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missqhughes · 4 months ago

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MORE THAN FRIENDS | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem! reader

-> contains: angst (resolved), kissing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual acts, fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: all the alcohol has wore off, and y/n finds herself naked in her best friends bed. things take a turn for the worst when luke starts to hint regret towards what they did the night before; but what does that mean for their friendship?

-> part 2 to get comfortable! i’m sorry i can’t just write pure angst i’ll make myself too sad. but dw it’s gonna be so juicy. also if ur missing someone goooooood fucking luck reading this w dry eyes 🫥alsoloveitasmuchasidothankyouhappyreadingggg!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

the all too well known pounding headache was the first thing y/n woke up to; oh, and also being completely naked in luke’s bed.

her eyes made their best attempt to adjust to the sunlight that poured into his bedroom. she turned over to her side, and there was luke sleeping peacefully, the blanket dangerously low on his waist, revealing hickies littered all over his v-line and stomach.

with a heavy breath, she checks down her own body; chest abused with hickies, trailing all the way down to her inner thighs. a quick look over to her backside reveals a red, unmistakable hand mark on her ass.

there was no denying that she had sex with luke last night.

y/n feels the bed shifting, a groan coming from the boy next to her.

“oh, you’re already up,”

his voice is horse, a combination of his drowsy state and losing it the night before. y/n turns around to face him, lifting up the comforter to cover her chest, any attempt to conceal her bare body to his now sober eyes.

“yeah, i just woke up literally a minute ago,” she says, a small smile to accompany. his eyes scan over her body, taking in all of it, eyes fluttering in an almost of a surprise of what he had done with it.

“do you… do you remember anything of what we did last night?”

y/n started to recount everything of the night before, how she felt with he was thrusting deep into her, his teeth sinking into her skin. how he looked with his head thrown back when she was on her knees in front of him. how he kissed up and down her back, not daring to let go.

“yeah… yeah i do.” she said, mouth twitching into a smile, anything to cure the tension. luke said nothing.

and there it was.

silence.

silen-

“i think you should go.” his words were a lot colder and harsher than he intended, but he sat up, refusing eye contact with her.

“you know to like… shower and eat and whatnot.”

nice save, she thought.

“no yeah, you’re right, i’m gonna change then be out of here,” she said, collecting her scattered clothing all over the floor. y/n changed into her short pink dress from the night before, ready for the walk-to-the-uber of shame that was ready to greet her.

while she changed, luke also got himself into a pair of boxers. y/n glanced over to him for a second, the image of him in his boxers, tired eyes and his body left with evidence of sex on it being burned into her brain.

“i’ll see you later yeah?” y/n said, opening the door and expecting luke’s usual response of “always,”

he purse his lips before responding, “bye.”

his words weren’t cold, or harsh, but disconnected.

disconnected from her.

y/n looked back at him, and he was already facing away. she wanted to say something, but didn’t let herself. instead she turned around and left.

——————————————————————————

it had been days since luke had spoken to y/n.

a million and one thoughts were racing in her head, each causing more anxiety than the last. they would come up at random times, like a jumpscare any time she let her thoughts travel to luke.

cooking dinner,

did he think it was bad?

studying,

did he regret what they did?

laying in bed, at approximately 3:46am,

did she ruin their friendship?

enough was enough. she needed answers, and she needed them now.

she knew he had practice this day, so in about 20 minutes, y/n found herself stomping into the yost ice arena, on the prowl to find luke. practice had just ended, and she shoved past the other guys and ignored the looks of confusion they gave her each other.

she ripped open the locker room door to a surpised luke, jersey off, but still in gear. his mouth opened, but y/n wasn’t going to let him get the opportunity to speak before her.

“where the hell do you get off on not speaking to me? huh? is it because we fucked? is that it?”

y/n pointed her finger at him accusingly, her face contorted into a look of disgust, but also sadness, and confusion. she was on the guard, but deep down scared shitless of what he was going to say.

luke sighed heavily, facing away from her and shuffling with the things in his section, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

y/n scoffed, “bullshit and you know it. what is it? tell me the truth luke warren. so what, we fucked okay? is that really the only reason you don’t speak to me of all people for days?”

he still had his back away from her, but his with his head dipped down, arms on his side. “it was a mistake. we shouldn’t have done it.”

she felt tears welling up in her eyes, cheeks flushed hot with anger and embarrassment.

“i’m so glad you think that luke,” she paused, making the best effort she could to control the shakyness in her voice, or how her throat burned in an attempt to get the words out. “if this is how you’re going to act after what happened, don’t speak to me now, or ever.”

it stung like hell to say, but she meant it. having enough with the situation, not being able to bear how much it hurt for him to be in her presence, she turned around and walked to the exit.

she didn’t look back. not like last time. but luke did. his body faced her as she slammed the door shut, only catching the last bit of her clothing and hair, her scent lingering where she was standing. his eyes were tinted red from tears, breath caught in his throat from regret with what he said, and even worse, what he didn’t say.

——————————————————————————

weeks had passed since they last spoke.

y/n was a mess. she refused to go out, turning her nose up at even the thought of drinking. her body ached when her mind wandered to luke; what he was doing, how he was doing, if he was thinking of her.

it hurt like hell.

and there she sat, curled up in the shower, recounting the memories her and luke shared. how they were always the first to wish happy birthday to each other. sharing their first middle school class together. sitting by the firepit, talking for hours at the lake house. crying in each others arms when they both got accepted to their shared dream school. graduation. a picture her parents took of them hugging outside their freshman year dorm building. how they held each other when no one else would understand, how they would still laugh their asses off even when no one would understand the joke but them.

oh, how he understood her. how fiercely they cared for one another, how he was always there, how she loved him, how it was always him. if it was one person she could choose, over and over again, it was luke.

but he was gone. just like that.

y/n had been in there for so long her fingers were wrinkled, and the water had turned a numbing coolness. she forced herself to get out, thanking to god that none of her roommates were home, knowing how pissed they’d be about her water usage.

she changed into sweatpants first, then begrudgingly putting on one of luke’s sweatshirts, a dark blue crewneck that read “michigan hockey” across it. y/n knew it would hurt to wear it, but she wanted any bit of luke left she could have.

about 10 minutes had passed, y/n was combing through her slightly damp hair, when she heard a knock at the door.

she went up to answer it, thinking one of her roommates was back and had just forgotten their key.

instead, y/n was met with a clearly unwell luke. his eyes were dark from lack of sleep, lips resting in a frown, all resting on a somber face to top it all off.

she felt like she was hallucinating. that she was in a dream, that her body was going to twitch and bring her back down to earth, back to reality. back to sitting down combing her hair, luke nowhere in sight.

they said nothing but everything at the same time. their expressions exactly matched, but still not quite knowing what the other was thinking.

“luke,” she breathed out, his name in the air barely above a whisper. y/n’s eyes fluttered, the emotions coming in like they never did before.

“can i come in, please?” his voice cracked, his expression pleading her to come in more than his words did.

she nodded, moving out of the way so he could step in. she sat over to walk on the couch, adding a pillow to her lap, hoping luke wasn’t able to see her body shaking and riddled with anxiety at his presence. but also comfort, and hope.

“why are you here luke?” y/n asked, demanding to know why he randomly showed up, after weeks of silence between them.

he ran his hands through his curls, biting his lip harshly before delivering his answer, “i need to be honest, i needed to tell the truth to you.”

“i thought you did that when we talked in the locker room,” she hissed, “all of that sounded pretty truthful to me.”

she didn’t want to rude, but how could he say that after practically punching her in the gut that day?

“no, you don’t understand,” he kneeled down to her level, unable to control the shaky hands that he brought up to hold his head in.

“then help me understand luke,” y/n voice was much softer this time, chest throbbing with pain seeing luke in more distress than she has ever seen him in.

“i was scared,” he said in a short breath, teardrops painting his cheeks, “i was scared after what we did because i thought it meant nothing to you, that we were just drunk. that you would tell me that you regret what we did, but i didn’t. not once.”

her gaze bounced between his hazel eyes, shocked at the news he was telling her. his face didn’t relax once, as he continued his truth, “i’m so in love with you y/n. i’m so scared you don’t feel the same way. i care about you, i need you, i feel so fucking…so fucking lost when you’re not there. nothing has felt the same.”

“i should’ve told you the truth, and i’m sorry.” his voice cracked again, and now luke was in full on sobs.

y/n could say nothing yet, still in shock, now again feeling like she was hallucinating. she opened her arms, and luke sat down on the couch with her and came crashing in.

he buried his face in the crook of her neck, arms tightly wrapped around her, terrified that if he let go she would be gone again. he cried into her, taking in her scent, her warm skin, her gentle touch, all of which he missed dearly.

“i love you, luke. i love you, i should’ve said it sooner,” y/n felt the pain that had accumulated for weeks begin to disappear in minutes with luke, the only ailment to her sickness. he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers with closed eyes.

“we both should’ve said it sooner, i’m so sorry y/n. i cant let you go. not now, not ever,” he held her tighter than ever, shifting his head to plant a soft kiss on her forhead.

she cupped his face in her hands, seeing him look at her with so much love made her stomach flutter.

“you have me luke, always.”

that’s when he kissed her. it was night and day between the first time their lips met. the first was new, lustful, wavering in its stability. this time, it was familiar, warm and feeling like they both could go on like this forever. their lips moved in perfect harmony, y/n crawling atop luke’s lap to bring herself as close to him as she possibly could.

they just barely pulled away, desperately needing to catch their breaths.

“now you’re never getting rid of me lu,” she giggled,

“wouldn’t even dream of it,” luke said, laying her down on the couch in her fit of giggles, peppering sweet kisses all over her face.

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

#luke hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #umich boys #luke hughes fanfic #nhl #luke hughes x you

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helenofsparta2 · 6 months ago

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Percy, Nico, and Jason should have fallen into Tartarus together, while Annabeth should have remained with the rest of the Seven in House of Hades. Please hear me out.

For one, this way Tartarus would have been much more intimidating. At least in my opinion, it has pretty much lost this aspect, especially after Sun and Star. Tartarus is the prison of the titans, a place so scary and so dangerous, that only the best of the best can make it through. Homer described it as being as far beneath Hades as heaven is above earth. Overcoming it should be the ultimate challenge.

Yes, Annabeth is smart, incredibly so, but, I feel like, because Rick wanted her to be useful in Tartarus, he used a lot of cheap tricks in her POVs to get her and Percy over obstacles, which seem a bit too simple to really work against beings like Nyx. This took the heaviness away from them being down there and felt at times even anticlimactic. Don’t get me wrong, again, because I know this is a sensitive subject, Annabeth is smart, has a strong resolve and is great at hand to hand combat, but that’s it. And, in my opinion, that should not be enough to overcome Tartarus. If it would have taken a child of each of the big three working together to only barely make it out, it would have definitely reinforced that status, and also the gods’ belief that such children can become too powerful.

Secondly, Percy not letting go of Nico’s hand, would have done wonders for the development of their relationship and for each character’s individual arc.

Imagine, Nico dangling from the edge, instead of Annabeth. Nico, who had only days prior pretended like he didn’t know Percy, who is so full of self-hatred, he thinks the entirety of camp half-blood hates him, who is already weakened by being imprisoned in the jar, and who is scared out of his mind by the idea of being alone in Tartarus again.

Imagine Nico staring up at Percy, clasping his hand, while Percy looks up at Annabeth, the love of his life, whom he had been separated from for months. Imagine Nico being convinced, that Percy is going to let Nico fall down to stay by her side.

But Percy refuses to let go.

He refuses to let go, even after Nico tells him he should do it, and decides instead to fall together with him into the worst place on earth, just so Nico doesn’t have to endure it alone again. It would have further reinforced Percy’s self-inflicted role as Nico’s protector which he already had in the original five books and his fatal flaw of loyalty. To Nico, it would have given him a worse inner conflict about having a crush on him, which could have been revolved while they were travelling together. The confession scene would have been much more impactful and healthier, if it would have come from Nico himself, and if he and Percy would have had a more in depth talk about it.

And if Jason would have flown after them in a moment of desperation, it would have reinforced the sense of loyalty and protectiveness that he had already shown when he had saved Piper at the grand canyon. The scene with Polybotes could have also taken place in Tartarus instead, and him and Percy working together, and putting all of their differences aside would have been a much more interesting dynamic than the stupid, out of character, rivalry bit they’ve got going on in Mark of Athena.

And, to be honest, just having Nico, Percy and Jason go all out, would probably be one of the coolest scenes in the entire Riordan verse.

All the while, Annabeth could have really cemented her role as a leader. I love her character, but to say that she has more leadership capabilities than Percy is laughable to me after reading the original five Percy Jackson books. These books are, after all, about Percy’s hero’s journey from an inexperienced kid to a smart, powerful and wise hero and the leader of camp half blood. Annabeth, in comparison, shows relatively little of that. (Obviously this makes sense, considering that the books are from Percy’s POV and revolve around him, but the complete switch-up to saying that Annabeth is the natural choice as leader of the seven just felt a bit out of the blue to me in Mark of Athena)

Her leading the rest, in a moment of such a tragedy and remaining strong would have really reinforced the strong resolve that she had already shown in holding the sky in titan’s curse and in remaining steadfast despite all the horrible things that happened to her with her father’s rejection and luke’s betrayal. Annabeth’s relationship to Piper, Leo, Hazel and Frank, which is painfully underdeveloped in the books, could have also been given some much needed attention. Like, I can’t remember a single scene where she and Hazel, or she and Leo really talk to one another, which is a shame, because they could have had really interesting dynamics with one another.

It also would have also been a powerful statement about Percy’s and Annabeth’s relationship, if they, while separated, still believed in each other and trusted that the other person would get the job done.

Without powerhouses like Jason and Percy on board of the Argo II, Hazel and Frank could have really shone as individual fighters. Hazel is probably the second, or third most powerful demigod in the entire franchise, but barely gets any attention, and for a guy, who is apparently so powerful his life had to be tied to a stick, Frank seems, outside of one or two scenes, also pretty underwhelming.

Without Jason, Piper’s and Leo’s friendship could have also gotten some more attention, and generally the reunion scene at the end of House of Hades could have been much more impactful with these character dynamics. I mean, Hazel, and Nico being reunited, Jason, leo and Piper, and Percy and Annabeth, and Percy, Hazel and Frank.

One of the biggest problems, I have with Heroes of Olympus is the extreme focus on romantic relationships. Having some couples be separated from each other like this, would have also solved this and given the only couple still together, Frank and Hazel, more room to develop.

#rick riordan #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo #house of hades #pjo #the seven pjo

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lushrue · 6 months ago

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hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader pt 4

really need to come up with a title for this series lol! comment if you want to be added to the taglist and send any title suggestions you have my way, i'm blanking! (also we're removing the "eventually" from the poly 141 tag tehe)

cw: allusions to sexual acts (nothing described)

it had started out as a coincidental thing. now, it was anything but.

the first time you’d run into the boys at the ice rink was purely by coincidence, before your friendship with them had even started. you’d stuck to your side of the ice and they’d stuck to theirs. that didn’t stop you from stealing glances at each other, their eyes following you when you spun in the air and your eyes darting around as they ran plays and practiced their passes. now, though, it was routine. you knew when they practiced, just the four of them, so you practiced those days too.

your outfit was a bit deliberate. it wasn’t like you didn’t know what you were doing when you put on that tight fitting sweater and your legwarmers in price’s signature blue. in some way, it felt like a mark of their claim on you. they’d certainly been hanging around you more since that night at the bar, but whatever they were doing felt more respectful than the usual “pissing a circle around what’s theirs” routine that you’d become accustomed to from men. and not only was it more polite, it was coming from all of them.

johnny was getting handsy with you. not in a way that crossed your boundaries, but in a way that you barely noticed it was happening. a hand on your thigh when he laughed at your jokes, an arm around your shoulders or back to gently guide you through a crowd. price (john, he’d told you to call him) leaned in closer when he talked to you, his body fully angled towards you as he hung on your every word. you had his full attention any time you opened your mouth, no matter how trivial the comment. not only that, but he would shush anyone else who tried to talk over you.

kyle opened up, confided in you. he would text you when he felt like he was having an off day, and in return, you’d share with him some encouragement or help to reframe the thoughts in his head. likewise, he was the first person you’d text when it felt like you were stuck in a rut with a skill or couldn’t work out some piece of choreography. and simon? well, he didn’t scowl as much when he was in your presence, and you took it as a win. he’d even offered you a cigarette one night before thinking better of it. “you don’ wan’ your lungs t’be black like mine, lovie.” johnny had told you later that that meant he liked you.

it made you feel like you were already theirs in some way, and they just hadn’t decided to let you in on that secret yet. you didn’t push back against it; there was something strangely comforting about the intimacy that you shared with them. you blended seamlessly into their group of four without the growing pains that came with expanding a social circle. you bantered, you chirped, and you took it as well as you dished it out. one of them, practically.

the sound of them entering the rink, heavy footsteps and simon’s gruff voice blending with johnny’s sharp brogue, snapped you out of your reverie. you finished lacing your skates and pulled the guards off, looking up to meet their gaze. kyle noticed you first, waving hello with that sweet smile on his face that you’d come to love. as your eyes scanned over the group, meeting each of their gazes in turn, you could’ve sworn you saw simon drop johnny’s hand. were they…? no, surely not. “skatin’ today, dove?” price’s voice echoed in the expanse of the empty rink. you smiled back at them, tying the last knot on your skate and standing from the bench. “yeah,” you responded, pulling your legwarmers up. you almost wanted him to notice. “got a competition coming up in a few weeks and i’m training a new routine.” price’s gaze followed your hands, smirking when he saw the color. the same royal blue as the tape on his stick and the mouthguard in his bag. cheeky thing.

as you step onto the ice, the four of them shuck their coats and hoodies, revealing sweatshirts and athletic wear. johnny and kyle always trained in compression shirts, the fabric clinging to the contours of each muscle. if you looked hard enough (and you did), you could see the outline of their pecs. they might as well have been shirtless for all you stared at them. price and simon opted for something more utilitarian, sweatshirts that would keep them warm and give them good range of motion. it didn’t stop you from watching the way their bodies twisted and stretched, craving those slivers of skin that would peek out when they practiced their shots.

god, you really were feral. shaking your head to regain your focus, you skate around in circles for a while, getting your bearings on the ice. it always required a little bit of adjustment for you. you had to settle into a groove, change your mindset so that you could train effectively. you give the boys one last wave as they step onto the ice before slipping your headphones on and drowning out the world.

when you skated, everything else fell away. it was just you and the scrape of your skates on the ice, and even that was dulled. it felt like floating, second nature to you. there was a grace to skating that rubber-soled shoes on pavement didn’t afford you. you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling for only a few minutes before locking in and concentrating. the routine, the competition, the pressure. you take a deep breath, pulling out your phone and changing the song. “thunderstruck” by AC/DC. not what you would’ve chosen for yourself, but your coach insisted on diversifying your display. you hit your starting pose, glancing past the four of them at the other end of the ice. the guitar thrums in your ears and you begin.

price wasn’t quite sure when he’d stopped barking orders and calling plays to run, but he had. all four of them stood on the other side of center ice, their laser focus on the puck broken by your performance. they couldn’t hear the song, but you enraptured them all the same. your movements sharp, precise. your balance was something they marvelled at. how were you able to spin that fast without falling? each jump had johnny and price’s eyes sparkling, simon holding his breath, and kyle counting your turns in the air. they shared a knowing glance when your back was turned to them. that’s our skater.

you wound up for a double axle, a jump you’d landed a thousand times before. you knew exactly how to shift your weight, when to push off the ice, how to position your legs for a smooth landing. as you gained momentum, skating backwards, you caught sight of them watching. their eyes were locked on you, watching your every move with interest and a pinch of something else. you could get lost in their eyes, you thought. each and every pair of them. johnny and price’s blues, simon’s and kyle’s browns. they were all so beautiful in their own way, so much depth to them. you feel your skates leave the ice before you’re prepared for it, muscle memory taking over to propel you upwards. you tense in surprise, which stops your leg from positioning the way it needs to to land properly. as a result, you fall, hip slamming onto the ice.

before you can even register the pain, all four of them are surrounding you, helping you up and dusting you off. your headphones have fallen off, letting you hear them fuss and fret over you. “y’alright, bonnie?” johnny asks, holding one of your shoulders. price is holding your hip, kyle is skating over to grab your headphones, and simon is watching from a healthy distance. it almost makes you laugh. they take harder hits on the ice every time they play, but the moment it’s you, it’s as if you were fine china. you brush the ice off your sweater, looking between all of them. “i’m fine, i swear. just got a little distracted, that’s all.” as if they could read your mind, emotion flickers across all of their faces in its own way. without you even saying it, they know the distraction was them. kyle looks almost guilty and price does too. johnny looks strangely smug, as if he’s proud of having been distracting to you. simon’s hands tighten almost imperceptibly around his biceps. “be more careful, lovie,” he grunts, the four of them skating back to their side of the ice.

you take a moment to recover from the thrill of being called “lovie” before slipping your headphones back on and starting the choreography over.

the boys had an away game this week. it felt odd to be sitting at home, nursing a glass of wine as you refreshed the score on the team’s webpage. you would much rather have been in the stands, cheering them on and feeling the energy of the crowd as they played. watching the timer tick down from the comfort of your couch felt…impersonal. it didn’t help when the website was roughly five minutes behind the actual game clock. you supposed you couldn’t be too upset, though. the poor intern that updated the site probably didn’t even know anyone was using it.

you go between watching some home improvement show on TV and refreshing the website. each time you did, you were met with their faces towards the bottom of the screen. player stat sheets, each one with a headshot of the boys looking determined or smug. price’s picture oozed confidence, the way a team captain should. his chin tilted up, his jaw set. it was attractive, you realized. simon was stony-faced in his picture, staring down the camera like it owed him money. you could barely see the scar on his chin, an accident from when he’d played hockey in his childhood if price was to be believed. johnny and kyle were all smug smiles, holding their sticks beside their faces.

the third period was rapidly ending, two minutes of play time remaining. your boys were down by one goal. your eyes flicked between the scoreboard and the pictures, finally settling on the latter. after that day on the ice with them, you’d had complicated feelings that you weren’t sure how to work out. they were good friends to you, great friends even. but that hadn’t stopped the butterflies in your stomach. your heart didn’t seem to want to cooperate with your head when it came to them. rationally, you knew that romantic feelings could wreck friendships. you’d seen it happen far too often and you never liked the ending. still, it was growing into something that was harder to ignore. the feeling screamed at you, thumped at your ribcage and demanded to be noticed. every time you were on the ice with them, every time you watched them play, you felt it clawing to get out.

to make matters worse, it was all four of them that had pulled your attention in. it couldn’t have just been one. just my luck, you think. they all scratched a different itch for you. price was that domineering, masculine presence that you loved. never let you open your own door, never let you pull out your own chair. a perfect gentleman in every sense of the word. simon was the dark and brooding type, the one that you always read about in those romance novels of yours. he was mysterious, keeping you at arm’s length and making you want to learn more. you wanted to see through him into his soul, pick it apart and see what it contained. johnny was funny, always cracking a joke or getting a dig in on one of them. he kept you upbeat, optimistic, lighthearted. you always found yourself with a smile on your face when he was around. kyle was gentle in nature. he was artistic, in touch with his feelings. he knew just what to say when you were feeling unmotivated, upset, frustrated.

and for all those reasons, and more, you were pretty sure you were starting to love them. it was creeping in slowly, but you weren’t sure you could stop its approach. it felt relentless, inevitable.

you refresh the website again to see the final score. 2-1, a loss for price’s team. you sigh, disappointed on their behalf. kyle had told you how much they were looking forward to this game, how they’d prepared for it. you figured it had to be a weighty loss. so, you did what any good friend would do; you pulled up your messages and texted johnny.

simon stomped into the locker room, head hung and shoulders slumped. he’d come so close to a goal in the third period. the game had almost been tied, and he’s pretty sure he would’ve felt better about the loss if it went into overtime. he sat down heavily on the bench, his head in his hands. he had the tendency to take losses personally. he always had, even when he was playing in the youth league. a losing score meant he hadn’t protected his team well enough. he could’ve hit harder, skated faster.

johnny’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it. he must’ve been sitting there a while, because soap was already out of his gear and showered. “happens t’everyone, si,” he said, taking a seat on the bench beside simon. “cannae beat yourself up over it. we all coulda done better.” simon huffed as johnny’s fingers dug into his tense muscles. he’d taken a couple of hard hits tonight and he could feel the ache settling in. “i know, johnny. i know.” he turned, rifling around in his bag for a bottle of ibuprofen. johnny somehow doubted that he knew, but he chose to let it go.

“where’s the captain and gaz?” simon asked, popping two pills in his mouth and downing them with water. johnny chuckled, wrapping an arm around simon’s shoulders. “still in the shower when i left ‘em. y’know how price gets after these games. kyle’s helpin’ ‘im work it out.” simon gave a grunt in reply, laying a hand on johnny’s thigh. “wish they’d hurry up,” he grumbled. “wanna get home and forget ‘bout this shitshow of a game.” johnny smirked, his fingers tugging at the sleeve of simon’s jersey. “we could kill some time,” he said teasingly, scooting impossibly closer to simon. “i know you need some stress relief too. my big, scary guard dog.”

simon’s eyes flicked up, taking in johnny’s smug little smile. most days, he wouldn’t give in, but it’d been a rough night. he deserved it. just as he leaned in, johnny’s phone vibrated on the bench, stopping his momentum. johnny gave him an apologetic look before reaching behind and grabbing his phone. his eyes lit up when your name popped up on the screen, your message displayed right below it. “tough loss. i know you all gave it everything you had though! i’m proud of you! <3”

he smiled, turning his phone around to show simon the message. simon read it slowly, taking in every word and letting out a little laugh when he saw the heart at the end. somehow, that praise from you made the pressure on his shoulders a little lighter. “call ‘er.” his voice was certain, resolute in its command. johnny chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled up your contact info. “you’re insatiable, ghost. gonna scare the lass off at this rate.” still, he pressed the call button, putting the phone on speaker.

two rings and you picked up, your voice coming through the tinny phone speakers. “hello? johnny?” “yeah, ‘m here, lass,” he said, looking up at simon as if to ask for permission to let you know he was here too. simon nodded, his eyes fixed on your contact photo. it was a cropped group photo of all five of you, your smile beaming at him through the phone screen. he swore he could feel the warmth of it from here. “simon’s here too. jus’ gettin’ ready to pack up our gear and head home,” johnny said, holding the speaker closer to their ears so that they could both hear you better.

“i’m sorry about the game,” you said, the memory of it coming back and sending a jolt of disappointment through both of them. johnny started to reply, but price and kyle came walking back into the locker room, looking the very picture of bliss. their skin flushed, water dripping from their hair. kyle looked particularly satisfied, wearing a few new marks on his neck to show how helpful he’d been to his captain. johnny couldn’t help but stare, lost in thought for a moment as he imagined just what they’d done behind that curtain. he’d heard the moans, but what he wouldn’t have given to watch.

“‘s alright, lovie,” simon grumbled, nudging johnny to remind him of who was on the phone. he’d had an agenda when he asked johnny to call you, and it wouldn’t do if everyone was distracted by each other. he glanced up to price, the two of them sharing a conversation beyond words. the raising of eyebrows, the curious cock of a head, and then a nod. simon cleared his throat, leaning a bit closer to the phone. “wanna grab a coffee with us when we get back tomorrow? got some things we wanna talk to you ‘bout.”

taglist: @cadotoast @jupiternighties @hxnneydew @kaoyamamegami @lolly145 @linaangel @bestbookfriends

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ravenslvt · 10 months ago

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why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.2) ☆

cw: smut! shower sex, pet names, porn with feelings, oral m receiving, rough sex, tension.

pt.1 link pt.3 link pt.4 link

“hellooo? earth to ami?” you wave your hand in front of your friend’s face. she was laser focused on her switch, music blasting in her headphones as she plays the new zelda game. she gives you one glance “yeah?” she says, pausing the game and taking off one headphone.

“i’m gonna shower. where do you keep the towels?”

“hallway closet. if not, ask rintarou” she puts her earphone back in, zoning back into her game. you sigh, walking out of her room and into the hall. she took her video games seriously. you open the cabinet, eyes squinting for a towel to use. oh great, of course the best ones were on the top row. you huff.

“what’cha doin?” a low voice rumbles from behind you. you keep yourself from practically jumping out of your skin. “jesus, rintarou. stop sneaking up on me like that!” you smack his arm playfully. he just smiles. he loved your reactions to him.

he was shirtless, skin glistening in fresh sweat. it was clear he just got done with a workout. your eyes wander down his chest.

“where’s ami?” he asks, his voice a little quieter than usual. your eyes draw back to his, raising your brows. “playing games in her room… why?” you cross your arms over your chest, looking up at the taller man. he just reaches over you to grab a towel you were looking for. he smelled like a mix of his cologne and sweat, it was dizzying.

“i wanted the pink one…” you pout as he hands you the white towel. he shrugs, taking it for himself. “i’ll take this one then.” he grabs you the pink towel you wanted, a smile growing on your face. “and what do you mean by that?” you hug the fluffy towel to your chest, your eyes raking over his handsome features.

it had been three days since you and him had your moment in the kitchen. the marks on both of you almost completley faded by now. the only thing left of that night was the lingering memory of his touch.

he grabs your hand, leading you into the big hallway bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. you carefully place the pink towel down on the spacious counter, but rintarou had other ideas.

“c’mere” he grabs you by the waist, slamming his mouth into yours, leaning you against the sink. the bathroom echoed with your small noises of enjoyment.

“always so loud” he reluctantly pulls away, making you pout. he quickly turns on the shower to cover your noise. in a flash, his mouth is back on yours. your hands go to his bare chest, pressing against his hard muscles. he smiled at this.

the hot steam of the shower slowly filled the room, reminding you of what you even came in here to do. his hands reach for your top, you help him peel it off over your head. your own nervous hands reach at his workout shorts, pushing them down his hips to leave him in his boxers. fuck, he was hard already.

“don’t wanna make a mess again, c’mon.” you clench at the memory of him fucking you on the counter downstairs just a few nights ago. once you’re both stripped completely, he makes sure your towels are close to the shower as he steps into the hot pouring water. your arms cover your chest when you follow him in, a bit self conscious. he holds your elbow to help you get under the sprinkling water.

the water poured over his head, his hair slicked to his face. you admired how good he looked with the droplets falling down his face to his neck to his chest, all the way down to his hard cock and the trimmed brown hair surrounding it.

he held your face in his hands, studying you. it made your face flush.

“you’re so pretty” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, dragging it down before letting it go.

“you’re prettier” you reply, looking up at him blissfully. he just chuckles.

“not a chance” he leans in for another kiss, this time a little more slow and heartfelt. it made your insides feel hot when his hands move down your body. you gasp softly as his hands palm your ass, bringing you closer to him. he slowly grinded his arousal into your thigh, making you whine. you just wanted him inside already.

he groans when you take his hard cock in your hand, gently rubbing your thumb up and down the slit before stroking him, making him hiss.

“can i? please rin.” you give him pleading eyes, begging to let you suck him off in the shower. he groans.

“i don’t wanna hurt your pretty knees, baby.” his large hands comfortably rub your hips. you just roll your eyes.

“i don’t care. just want it in my mouth.” you give him a peck on his lips, then his neck, then his chest. going all the way down to the base of his cock. you lower yourself on your knees, ignoring the sting of the hard floor against your sensitive skin.

you give his head small kitten licks, focusing on the tip where you know he was most sensitive. you slowly take him into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth before taking him almost all the way in. he was just so big! your eyes watered when he hit the back of your mouth, using your small hand to wrap around the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“fuckk.” the back of his head hits the shower wall with a small thump, but he was more caught up in the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off. his hands grip your hair, making you moan around him. he curses at the vibration of your throat around him. you notice, softly humming to keep the rumble around him.

he had to hold himself back from grabbing your face and fucking your mouth, not wanting to hurt you. his hips stuttered as your mouth moved up and down his shaft, trying to copy what you've seen in videos.

your free hand reached down, rubbing your clit. you couldn’t help it, the view of him losing himself in your mouth was just too much for you to handle. you’d imagined this so many times, the taste of him. everything. you hollow your cheeks, trying to get him as deep as you could without choking.

“s-stop or i’m g-gonna cum, fuck!” he practically whines, his eyes on you. you were so wet just from his sounds. you just take him deeper, ignoring the burning ache in your jaw. you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue, your fingers moving in rhythm on your clit.

it takes all of his willpower, but he pulls you off of him, groaning at the string of spit and precum dripping from your mouth. you frown. he just runs his hand through your wet hair, panting.

“i wanna finish with you, baby. i’ll let you taste me properly another time, yeah?” you nod as he pulls you back up on your feet, holding you so you don’t fall from your shakey knees.

he kisses you again. god, he could do this forever. his cock was still hard, red and raging from all the stimulation. it practically twitched at the thought of being inside you again when it brushes against your wet thigh.

he grabs your hips, slamming you against the cold shower wall with pure hunger on his mind. the sight of you touching yourself while sucking him off making him almost cum at the thought. he was utterly obsessed with you.

he starts to kiss down your jaw to your neck, starting to suck small marks into your skin.

“no marks!” you scold him. he just pouts, nuzzling his head into your neck. he understood why, but he just wished he could let everyone know you were his, though he’d never admit it.

he hesitently pulls back, hiking your leg to wrap around his hip. fuck. he couldn’t tell if you were more wet from the actual water from the shower or from his touch. it was mostly from him.

he lines himself up with your hole, his tip poking at your entrance. “you ready?” he asks, rubbing his cock between your folds, making you mewl.

“yes, please just put it- fuck!” you practically scream as he sinks himself into your needy pussy, holding back a loud groan himself. you felt even better than before. or maybe he just missed your cunt so much.

“shh. you’re almost louder than the shower…” he rasped out, holding onto your hips for dear life. he started moving, setting a mouth watering pace. the way his tip brushes your g spot with every deep thrust makes your head loll back onto the shower tile.

you couldn’t tell if it was the steam from the hot shower, or the way he was pounding into you that was making you so hazy. probably both.

you couldn’t control the little whimpers and moans coming from your mouth, thankful that the shower was loud enough to cover up your small sounds.

suddenly, there was a knock at the door and a call of your name.

“what is taking you so long?! i need to shower too girl!” ami yells from outside the door. your eyes widen, rintarou immediately covering his own mouth with his hand. he was still balls deep inside of you, trusts slowing down, but not stopping.

“s-sorry! just had to wait for the water to heat up!” you shout back, she just groans.

“whatever, i’ll just use the other shower.” you could hear her voice receding down the hall. you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“we really need to find better places to fuck.” he comments, his pace quickening again.

“you’re the one who- f-fuck- dragged me in here.” you pant, your tits bouncing at the way he fucked you against the cool tile.

“don’t act like you didn’t want this. pussys practically sucking me in.” he adds.

“fuck” he mumbles, looking down at where you two met. the way you could see the buldge of his cock through your belly everytime he entered you. he placed his hand over it.

he lowers his mouth to your tits, taking one in his mouth, gently biting and sucking, making you moan. he switches between them until he’s satisfied, making you squeeze around him.

“so fucking hot.” he growls, holding onto your leg to bring it higher so he can fuck you even deeper. he was close, his cock pulsing inside of you.

“m’ cuming!” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders for support, nails digging into his skin. you rut your hips to meet his own thrusts in absolute bliss, vision getting blurry with tears as you clench around him, his dick fitting so perfectly inside of you, making you feel so fucking good.

“right there with you, baby. w-where can i-“ he starts, his pace stuttering. his brows were furrowed in concentration.

“inside rinn, please please please!” you begged, locking your leg around his hip to bring him deeper. he moans, his hot seed filling you to the fucking brim. your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of his cock pumping cum inside of you.

he kisses you through your orgasms, swallowing all your moans along with his own. you pull away, dizzy with lust, panting heavily.

he pulls his cock out of you with a groan, the mixes of your release dripping down and washing away almost instantly in the water.

he kisses your cheek, soothing you. “let’s wash up, pretty girl.”

a/n: i’m so overwhelmed with all the support on this series!! i already have plans for the next part with a little more plot since this one was mostly smut! i do plan on basically every chapter having smut so don't worry y'all <3

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miyacults · 11 months ago

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red, blue and yellow lights.

( ft. satoru gojo. )

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does Suguru has it in him to ever deny you anything and make you behave? Satoru doesn’t have that much power over you. Yet. It’s the other way around entirely. Usually, you have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers… but this time isn’t usual at all.

> part 2.

wc: 4k (unedited im soreeey)

cw: fem reader (afab). only gojo action here but poly satosugu is super implied. +18, explicit content. smut. minors do not interact. slight age gap, reader is younger than both of them but not much and is not stated at all. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be careful!!! rough sex/rough satoru. manhandling. slight hints at dacryphilia. slight chocking. marking (one hickey). unprotected sex, p in v sex. little mention of blood. that should be all! enjoy <3

It was raining the first day it happened—sky practically crying at the sight of you three, already sinking down in the problems to come for such a reckless call. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest ones, so they know better and they pride themselves with this fact. They’re smarter than the rest, both devastatingly attractive, even more so than anyone could ever imagine and…simply superior. But the first time they didn’t knew better.

Or they didn’t care to.

The second time shouldn’t have occurred. They should’ve weighed into the idea of not stumbling upon the same rock again—but they did it nonetheless. How couldn’t they? When the rock herself got the touch of angels, the voice of the gods and a face made in heaven. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same.

And so the third and the fourth come, and suddenly they stop counting how many more times have they been opening the gates of hell for you three to freely wander—toying with the risk of losing it all, as sorcerers always do. Stumbling upon a path of no recovery, stranding themselves into a new kind of addiction capable of surpassing that of what power and glory and the god-like status they hold has been pumping their veins for a while now.

Satoru likes to share everything with Suguru. And Suguru likes to share everything with Satoru. Where one goes, the other follows. If Satoru likes it sweet, then Suguru deals with the bitterness, and if Suguru wants it that way, Satoru will pave it himself without a second thought. They’ve been complementing each other for so long, it was only natural for this to happen.

For you, to happen.

But even them have their own ways of becoming addicted to you.

“Please,” you’re saying—sobbing, actually, clenched teeth chirping, violent tremors ripping inside your chest, glimmering tears staining dainty features—and Satoru already feels the weight of guilt swallowing him whole. Tense lips press each other firmly in a straight line, azure eyes shutting together as lithe fingers ghost the overly sensitive skin of his neck. “Please, ‘Toru—”

“No.”

He needs you to shut up, fast.

The name—his name—is hanging dangerously at the tip of your tongue, too close to being spilled out loud, too close to make an even bigger mess than the one he’s already sitting himself on.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you’re murmuring now against his sealed lips, small cries leaving your mouth, basically straddling his lap as you desperately try to adjust yourself over the growing bulge in his pants—bare, tight little cunt fluttering at the small friction. “I’ll behave, please, just let me ride your cock for a little while, please.”

“Oh, sweets,” Satoru heaves an exasperated sigh through a low, nervous chuckle, hands running through snowy hair crystal clear gaze finally fixing on you. “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that? Suguru told me you were being a brat lately and I didn’t listen to him,”

He’s trying to play it off as best he can, sure, but this is adding up to his temper. His cock throbs painfully inside his trousers. He’s not even sure what time it is—maybe three, four in the morning? He doesn’t know. It’s quite hard to keep the track of time when you’re here to distract him of all the things he should be doing instead, when the blue cotton laced panties—the ones he gifted you like two weeks ago—that are supposed to be covering your greedy, insatiable pussy, are now stuffed in the pocket of his expensive, Tom Ford shirt.

It’s nearly impossible to focus when you’re rolling your hips, humping your needy clit and damping his pants with your juices, causing an unbearable explosion in his stomach, cock hard and full of precum you should be licking off of him.

You should be the one cleaning the mess, not him.

Satoru swallows dry, hands falling in a thump over the armchairs of the couch you’re both sitting at. It takes nearly all of his inhuman strength to keep them there, to not let them travel to the hem of your hiked up oversized shirt—Suguru’s shirt, if he recalls correctly—and place them over the heated flesh of your bare ass. It takes everything in him not to squeeze it, knead it, slap it until the skin is red and tender—an unique piece of art only he can make.

“Is that a yes?” You question eagerly, lashes fluttering and eyes sparkling in awe.

“No, baby.”

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does ever Suguru has it in him to deny you anything? How does he ever gets you to behave, to make you an obedient good girl? Suguru had you perfectly trained, bunch of rules memorized and practically burned into the tissues of your brain you could recite them in your sleep.

That didn’t stop Satoru from spoiling you rotten, so much it’s a difficult task to fuck the brat out of you every time you spend a few hours alone with him (as Suguru likes to say)—but even if baby gets whatever she asks for during her time with the white-haired man, when she is back with Suguru what Daddy says goes, instantly.

Because you’re just too perfect for them. The apple of their eyes, their pretty baby, perfection in all senses. It makes it easy for you to be awfully good, to sit prettily in Satoru’s lap all the time, spreading kisses all over his face as his enamoured sapphire eyes don’t leave yours—to sleep almost every night attached to Suguru’s chest as if he’s the incarnation of the oxygen you need to breathe.

But even with all of that—Satoru doesn’t have the same power over you, at least not yet. You have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers, manicured nails scratching him in what could be a tantrum. He’s incapable of dealing with you all alone, unable to resist your charms, he fails and falls for you hard. You make him sick, you push him off his highs with a mere, chaste kiss, you leave him hopeless to find a cure—pretty, colored sweets popping inside his mouth all tasting of you.

You’re the most powerful drug he has yet to fully taste, a completely new disease that infects his body, mind and soul, so corrosive it sets him on fire and turn his bones into ashes.

“But ‘T—,” you begin, and he has to cut you off immediately, preventing his name to touch your parted lips.

The name is the key—his name in your saccharine sweet tongue is what will lock him away in the gates of the hell you’ve helped create yourself.

“No,” he chastises now rather severely, unnaturally serious for someone like him, hoarse voice sticking at his dry throat. He glances at you firmly as he feels too sober to maintain his posture, hands still refusing to touch you and lips moving away from yours by an inch. “Did you forget how grounded you are, silly baby?” He scoffs, sardonic grin breaking his rather angelic features and turning him into something darker.

You frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,”

“You did,”

“I did not”

“Oh, but you are,” Satoru’s tone falls an octave, and suddenly you shiver. You’ve heard about it a couple of times in the past—Suguru has mentioned how, from time to time, those heavenly features of him darken, but to you, that sounds so out of character. ‘Toru is bubbly and jolly and he likes to teased and he even has sweets for dinner with you. To you, that can’t be fully true, right?

His tense muscles relax a little, just a little, as his gaze is dangerously fixed on you. Salty tears wither in your lashes and your cheeks, swollen lips now pouting at him for his harsh accusation and his cold tone. “‘Cause you’ve been naughty, baby, haven’t you?” He insists.

Something definitely shifts, but you notice it. It goes from his flaming eyes to the icy touch, to the calm breathing—previously heavy—, to the devious smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

And you think about what it has been.

Usually, Satoru would have fallen by now. Usually, he would have been already caging you between the couch and his body, pounding into you and brushing your cervix with the head of his thick cock, slapping at your ass, pinching your tits and biting your lips until they’re swollen and bruised. Usually, he would have been chanting about how good you feel, how insane you drive him, how weak he is to you.

Usually, by this time, things would’ve been getting to an end. Suguru would have entered the living room of the big house they both own, would have probably lifted you like a ragdoll out of Satoru’s lap and would have scolded you for your little tricks, for seeking such a lewd activity when you’ve been recovering from the flu, for coaxing the Strongest into your desires. Usually, Satoru would have been scolded too by his best friend, and you would have cried his name while being carried into the bed where you most definitely would have got lectured for your little shenanigans.

But this isn’t usual at all.

“N-No,” you murmur, bleary-eyed gaze blinking at Satoru.

“You sure?”

You don’t know. Are you? Are you really sure you haven’t been naughty? You shouldn’t be chided for anything by Satoru, right? Because Suguru’s been in a really good mood lately, he even peppered you with kisses before bed, tugged you in with his favorite blanket before laying by your side, and before that he made you dinner and watched an episode of the show you’re currently catching on with you while eating together.

“Are—,” you begin, and for some reason you stumble on your words, unsure about how to proceed. Being talked to like that by Satoru was so strange, he never chastised, about anything, ever. All of a sudden you don’t feel so bold anymore, you’re not quite certain you’ll get away with yours this time—and suddenly, Satoru’s touch doesn’t feel warm, his arms no longer being your favorite, cozy shelter, transforming into something icy, devious, darker. “A–Are you mad at me, babe?”

“Oh yeah, babe,” He repeats slowly, slender fingers finding your thighs, adjusting his grasp on you for the first time, hands pressing your skin with a little bit more of force than needed. “You call me babe a lot, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You blink at him, head lolling to the side briefly. Little mewl of surprise scaping your lips due to how strong he’s gripping your thighs—pads digging the flesh and all.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I do. Trust me, I do,”

“You want me to call you something else?”

He finds it amusing. The way your features crinkle in confusion, genuinely concerned for what he’s saying. It’s nice, he thinks, since he’s usually the one that’s dotting on you all the time—while you dot on your Daddy all the time.

“What is it that you call Suguru, sweetheart?” He asks almost conversationally, nose caressing your cheek delicately.

“Uh–huh,” you try to shift on his lap, backing a little from him, but Satoru catches you almost instantly—pushing your face against his torso forcefully. “He’s my Daddy,” you end up answering, voice a little muffled by his cashmere shirt.

And he yanks you up without notice, and you whine at the sudden movement.

“Mean” you scoff, the base of your hair being found by his ivory fingers. He catches the strands between them and tugs a little. “So mean!”

“Oh, I’m mean, I’m super mean,” he agrees with a devilish smile spreading from the tip of his lips to his full face. “But you know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And do you know what happens to spoiled, rude and ungrateful brats? They get punished by their daddies,”

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get a chance to as he lifts both of you up from the couch and pushes you over the marble counter of the kitchen, whole body against the cold, solid surface. The action alone knocks a little cry from your chest, glistening tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. And he coos at the sight, he mocks you, looks and talks to you in such a patronizing way you’re complaining about how he can’t scold you, that he’s not Suguru.

“You’re not my D—,”

“Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you,” he warns, azure eyes going completely dark as he hovers over you, steady hands ripping you off of Suguru’s shirt. “I’ll make sure you’re not able to sit straight for a month,”

This time, you’re the one that swallows dry.

And, oh, the way your heart pounds violently inside your rip cage. The way your cunt throbs at the mere image of Satoru stripping himself off his clothes and his dreamy blue eyes don’t move an inch from you, the way your tummy flutters and heat descends all over your now naked body in awe—eagerly expecting his touch, awaiting for him, wanting him to take his way and completely obliterate you.

It’s exciting to push the boundaries a little, test the limits of what’s known and jump into the void. It’s dangerous—with Satoru, it’s unbelievably deadly—, but it sends sparks through your veins. It makes your heart roll, makes you want him even more than before.

You sniff, remnants of tears drying your heated cheeks and little squeals still rumbling through your throat.

“Aw, made our sweet princess cry,” Satoru coos at you, freeing his cock out of his trousers—and it’s worth drooling for, in all honesty, with his rosy pink shade and his angry blushed tip, with his irregularly large violet-like veins adorning both sides, and specially with the dim precum that shines beautifully under the kitchen lights.

He gives it a few pumps, and you can’t help but make grabby hands at him—whiny pout morphing your lips as the sobs return, but this time far from covering up the pain, tears now cracking neediness.

“I want you,” you hiccup as he gets closer, grabbing his shoulders as he positions himself over you.

And you feel him, ghosting the tip of his throbbing cock at your little hole, cold digits caressing your breasts—thumbs rolling your nipples and stealing a soft moan from your lips that Satoru catches quickly with his mouth, merging the two of you in a harsh kiss.

“Mhm,” he’s saying and you yelp, teeth biting at your swell and it’s rough, salty, streaks of crimson with a taste of iron coating him. “Now you want me? But I don’t think you deserve it at all,”

“‘Toru—,”

One slap, straight to your thigh.

“That’s not my name, is it?”

You’ve never felt this kind of exciting fire with him before. It had never been so…primal, so needy, so desperate, entire body jolting in anticipation and tummy in knots out of anticipation. It makes your heart vibrate rapidly behind the ribs, mouth practically watering at the sight of him spiraling in such a state because of you.

“You’re not gonna say it?” He insists, tongue catching your nipple. It’s cold and it sends shivers down your spine, provoking delicious shrieks that resonate in his ears and make his blood run faster. He drives the tip of his cock from the entrance, collecting all your juices and directing it to your puffy clit, all to start circling around the bud—one, two, three, four and more times in a nonstop motion.

It’s has you on edge, really. Body trembling and mind going hazy—all the previous lazy dry humping finally getting to your nerves, pussy clenching the air and hot breath colliding viciously against the lanky man.

“Please,” you beg, quivering under his touch. “Please, ‘Toru, I need you,”

“Not my name, sweet thing,” he sighs in a disappointed tone and, for a moment, you think he actually sounds sorry to prolongue this. But you know he isn’t. Not even close, not even a little bit. “Use the right word and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum tonight,”

The word is there, truth be told, dancing curiously at the insides of your mouth, gagging you up and completely searing his whole name.

It’ll just take a little push to make it go out.

“I—I,”

“Say it,” his hand runs to your neck, fingers wrapping around it and mouth printing an obscure mark to your chin—sucking violently at the skin, a combination of gritted teeth and bloodied lips.

He doesn’t stop the movements of his cock on your clit for a second, and you know he’s starting to get too sensitive himself—cracked groans rumbling from his chest, sloppy hips rolling and nearly slipping inside of your cunt once and for all. Your blood rushes to your ears, eyes shutting close as a new sobs rip through parted lips and delicated nails scratch the skin of his broad shoulders. Heat builds in your belly and you know you’re close—so close to cumming around nothing, merely by the fast friction of his throbbing cock over your clit.

And he notices it at the same you do, so he pulls out and flips you over the marble counter before you can reflect on what he’s doing.

“N–No! Sator—,”

“How empty is that pretty little head of yours, uh?” Condescending. His voice his painfully condescending, and so is his touch, so are his hands smacking your ass as the side of your face hits the counter. “You’re not cumming until you say the word,”

It’s a simple word, four letters that you have to spill, wrap your skilled tongue around it and push it through your swollen lips and into his ears. That is all you have to do. So you do.

“Daddy!” You finally yelp, vocal chords shaking the word out like a quake. It’s pathetic, even, how five simple letters merge into cries, becoming an incoherent mess that all can do is say it repeatedly. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. The name buries deeply in his ears and finds a home in the roots of his heart, forcing an explosion of something he can’t quite describe onto his veins. It reduces him to ashes, it revolves everything in his mind and suddenly—suddenly he’s back in control, suddenly he’s not a wandering dog anymore begging go you, suddenly he doesn’t turn into pieces for you to pick up.

Still, you drive him insane. Still, he’s weak to you. But you’re no longer in control and that fuels him like nothing will ever do.

And all your babbling keeps you from catching on his moves until he’s already sinking in your cunt roughly. You sob at the intrusion, pain exploding in your stomach and ache consuming you by the burning stretch.

“S-So good, baby, my baby is so good,” is all he grunts out, pressing his forehead into the back of your head.

He fucks you raw, more than he has ever done before. He fucks you so hard your limbs go numb and the only thing that stays clearly in your mind is that he’s also your Daddy now. He thrusts his hips into yours intensely, so much he basically has you bouncing the marble, and you scream so much it wouldn’t be a surprise if Suguru runs out of the room to make sure no one is slaughtering you, their sweet little princess.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to let go, with body and cervix bruised by his hands and cock, cumming within minutes of hips thrusting into your tiny hole. And he fucks you full of his cum, too. Too many times for you to properly remember the exact number, too much that you feel it dripping from your cunt, all over your thighs and into the counter—marble stained with the sticky substance. And he doesn’t stop at that, either, not until your face, your breasts, your belly and both your holes are so full of his cum you’re close to drooling it, too.

.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀��⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.

“You left a whole damn hickey on her face, dude,” Suguru’s snickering and he sounds so grumpy as he checks out your sleeping figure curled around his torso, sulky eyes finding the ones of his best friend to recrminate not so silently. “I’m not even that sure is a hickey. That looks like a goddamn punch straight to the jaw,” He then glances down at Satoru, who leans against the wall of the living room, eyebrows raised and lips chopping mindlessly around a cigarette. “Did you punched my baby?”

“Shut up,” Satoru snorts, crystal eyes rolling in annoyance. “Aren’t ya seeing that smile on her face? She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to me. And she finally has some respect for me, so, we both win,”

“Pretty sure she had things to do early today,” Suguru mumbles, one hand holding the cigarette and the other mindlessly caressing your back above the shirt—Satoru’s shirt now—that covers your frame. “And in the afternoon, too. Guess we gotta let her sleep,”

“Agree,” Satoru walks to both of you, a shit eating grin flashing his features. “Let her rest and gain some energy. She’ll need it to give a warm morning to her favorite Daddy,”

And Suguru has something to say about that—because he’s sure his the favorite Daddy. But now Satoru thinks the same, too.

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just-some-random-blogger · 7 months ago

Text

Edge Of Ever After | 4

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, smut (piv, cunnilingus), mentions of pregnancy/fertility issues, sunshine x grump, enemies to lovers (to enemies ? HAHA), slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, horrible communication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: cross posted on ao3

I wake up with laboured breath, with a severe tightness in my stomach. I grunt and shift, realizing promptly Sandor's arm was squeezing me.

"Sandor," I groggily yelp, yanking his arm off me.

Thankfully, his arm gives and I manage to roll away. I catch my breath and whimper, making a disgruntled face at my husband.

In the name of the seven gods, the man was still asleep, as though he did not make an attempt on my life unwittingly. I huff and push myself up on my elbows, "Sandor."

I nudge him with my knee.

He sighs peacefully in his sleep.

I huff and brush his hair. I caress the side of his face which was free from burn marks and shake my head, "you vicious pup. How am I to sleep now?"

I turn to the window, seeing how the sun was barely shining and decide it was worth it to try and go back to sleep.

Alas, I could not and eventually just got out of bed. I decide to tidy up and change, giving us a headstart for the day.

I struggle to get myself ready, especially in doing the ties of my dress and styling my hair. After deciding I looked decent enough, I pondered what to do with the sopping wet clothes we had from the night before. I gather them from the floor, wrapping them in towels, as they were still dripping wet, and head downstairs.

When I reach the main room where we had eaten dinner, I gawk at how large it looks without it overflowing with people.

"Can I help ya?" a low and slightly annoyed voice asks.

I turn and make a soft sound of surprise at the sight of the hulking man before me. I smile at him, "good morn to you. Yes. If you could, that would be lovely."

He raises his thin brows as I shuffle with the clothes in my hands.

"If it is possible, I would like to have my clothes washed. They have gotten terribly-"

He grabs the clothes from me.

"-oh... wet from last night..."

He inspects the clothes pulling them apart one by one, the hanging them on his large arm.

"I- UH-" I freeze when he picks out my shift and small clothes. I begin to fidget but he doesn't bat an eye. He does raise his brows when he sees Sandor's clothes.

He holds it up then looks at me, "this yours, lil lady?"

"My husband's."

He measures the shirt against him, "he's almost as big as me."

I blink at his observation.

He huffs and tilts his head, "it's gonna cost ya. Work don't come for free."

I nod quickly, "and I can pay," I pull out some coin, "I would also like some food for us."

He takes the coin from me, "it's not gonna be ready til a lil later."

I nod again, "I understand. I can wait."

He stares at me for a moment. He tilts his head the other side, "what's your name then, lady?"

I tell him my name and then he laughs.

"Clegane? Like the Mountain?"

I am married to his brother, Sandor."

"Mmm," he walks off, "must be nice being Lord Clegane."

I step back as he exits through the front door. And as if on cue, Trysha comes in, "ooh, pleasant morning, dear lady. I see you've met my other son."

Oh. I smile at her.

"Did he give you a hard time? What did you need?"

"Some laundry services and break fast. I've already paid for it."

Trysha smiles, "well, don't you worry, milady. I'll go find Donnie and see to your laundry. Riley will cook you and your lord food first thing."

"Oh, thank you, Trysha," I smile back.

She nods at me, "it's my pleasure, milady."

I step forward and fidget with my fingers, "if I may, how many children do you have?"

She grins, "I have five sons, each as big as the other. The first is Wencel, then Donnie, Riley, Graham, and Ian."

"I see. And I assume their father was quite large as well."

"Aye," she wiggles her brows, "if you know what I mean."

My lips part yet I say nothing.

She giggles and shakes her head, "why, how improper of me to jest with a lady."

I chuckle nervously, feeling my face warm slightly.

"Ah," she sighs, "Riley is the spitting image of his da, from face to the frame. He gets his ruggedness from me though. My Hugh wouldn't hurt a fly... and that would be why he got killed."

I frown at his words, "my deepest sympathies for your loss."

She waves a hand, "it's been ages. It was a hard day but you learn to live with it." With that, she smiles and says she'll tell Riley to start making my food.

I walk towards the open door and hum at the sight of the muddy floor. I debate if I should get my boots dirty, but figure, it'll get dirty anyway once we leave, so might as well. Mud could be washed off.

I pick up my skirt and tread carefully out of the place. I wander towards the stables and remember that Riley mentioned our horses were moved somewhere else.

I spot a man by the beasts. I lock eyes with him and smile, "good morrow! Are you the stable keeper?"

He stares back at me, face contorting slowly.

As I walk closer, I realize just how large he is, appearing opposite, only because he was dwarfed by the horses around him. I then wonder if he was one of Trysha's other sons.

"Who's askin'?"

I manage to step on a drier patch of dirt and explain to him who I was. I tell him I was only concerned for the well-being of my steeds, since they got terribly wet in the storm last night.

"Ahhhh," he says with some form of realization, "you're the lady Riley spoke about."

I hum, "if the lady was one he saved from a gang of brutish men, then, indeed, tis I."

The pets one of the horses' snouts and tilts his head, wordlessly walking off after.

I furrow my brows and clutch my skirt tightly, "do you expect me to follow?"

The man stops and turns back to me when he realizes I don't.

"You answered none of my questions and did not even say where you are leading me off."

He raises a brow a me, "clearly, I'm leading you to your horses."

"Well, it was not clear to me because you did not say so," I shake my head, "I do not even know your name. Why would I follow you?"

He purses his lips and crosses is arms, "and telling you my name will make a difference?"

"Of course."

He stares at me for a moment then chuckles dryly., "Graham."

"Brilliant," I smile at the confirmation of his identity, "lead the way, then, Graham."

Graham leads me off to a wood shed that had enough vacancy to house my two horses. They recognize me and chuff. I smile and offer each my attention and touch their faces.

"Hello, hello," a voice calls from the side.

A man walks towards Graham. He is red in the face and sweaty as he carries a large log on one shoulder.

"Hello there. Good morn," I offer in between combing my horse's mane with my fingers.

He drops the log on the ground. He huffs and tilts his head when he looks at Graham. Graham shrugs, then they both turn back to me.

"Need some help, lady?"

"Mmm?" I turn back to him, "no, I just wanted to check on my horses."

"Traveling with a bodyguard?"

"I'm travelling with my husband," I reply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I look between the two, and in this moment, realize they looked awfully similar, "you wouldn't happen to be named Wencel, would you?"

The man curls his lips up as the other laughs, "nay, lady! I'm Ian."

Graham slaps the man's arm in laughter.

Ian shoves him away, "I look nothing like that ugly shite."

"Who you calling ugly, orge?" a deep voice speaks above the sound of galloping hooves.

A man leading a donkey with a caravan walks towards us. He does not stop and eyes me as he walks past. He nods his head at me and I offer the same regard. I watch as he leads the horse to what was probably a back entrance to the inn.

"MY ASS IS PRETTIER THAN YOU!" Ian calls out.

"At least my ass is done with my morning chores."

Graham laughs harder.

If it was not painfully obvious before, it was now. These men were brothers, Trysha's sons. Though they were big burly men, the sight of them made me feel warm. They reminded me of my own brothers, how I used to be with them. It make me imagine what it would be like had they not died, and even how they would be once I had a son of my own.

I press my lips into a line and feel myself fel sick. I give my horses on last pet before going back inside the inn.

When I get back inside, I am faced with Riley, who perks up when he sees me.

"Oh, h-hello... I wanted you to know I've started cooking, but I didn't know what you wanted... so I was gonna ask."

"Oh," I bring myself to smile, "I'm alright with anything. I normally eat whatever my servants prepare, which is porridge, or eggs."

Riley hums, "alright. I'll be done soon. Take a seat."

I don't have an opportunity to ask if I could bring the food upstairs, so I merely just sit down and wait.

The moment I do, Graham and Ian walk in. They walk towards me and look at each other before turning back to me, "if our conversation offended you, we apologize," Graham says.

"Aye," Ian nods, "if you want to go back to the horses again-"

I shake my head, "no." I take in a breath, "I left because I was finished. My apologies for leaving without a word."

"Nay, it's alright," Ian waves his hands.

"Aye, aye," Graham nods.

"Out of the way," Riley says, shoving his brothers to the side. As the two shuffle away, Riley places a bunch of plates before me. Porridge, eggs, sausage, bread, jam, and fruit laid on a tray before me.

"Oh my, thank you-- this is a lot."

"Aye, seven fucking hells," Graham mutters, "can you finish all that?"

"I can help!" Ian blurts.

"Fuck off," Riley hisses.

"Actually," I shake my head, "my husband won't be awake until early afternoon, so please," I motion, "help yourselves."

Ian sits down across from me without much thought. He sighs as he eats the fruits, "fuck I haven't eaten yet."

"Lying bastard," Graham grabs the strawberry in his brothers fingers, "you ate my ham."

Just as Riley looks like he's about to tell his brothers off, I cut him off by offering him to eat with us.

Riley looks at me in shock for a moment. The next moment, he walks off and comes back with more food.

The next thing I know, all five brothers and their mother break their fast with me. Whatever unpleasant idea that tried to fester in my head was warded off by their familial bickering. It make my heart feel a little Les lonely to be in this moment with them, even though I was a merely spectator.

At some point, they ask my about myself and I tell them about Lucy, about my pups, about Sandor's strawberry garden.

"Aww, I'm glad to know your husband adores you," Trysha says.

One of the men grumbles.

Ian says through a mouthful, "if you ever comes to it, we can set you free."

I stare at him with confusion, "pardon?"

"Kill'im," Donnie says.

"Donnie!" their mother scolds, "that's not what he meant."

"That's exactly what he meant."

"Ian!" Trysha slaps her youngest on the arm.

"Aye," Wencel agrees.

"Wencel!" she scolds. She sighs where I chuckle. I shake my head, "I am flattered, but you needn't worry. My husband takes care of me."

Trysha nods, "and we can tell. My boys are just untrusting of men because of how I've been treated after their father died."

I offer her a solemn look and take her hand.

She waves me off and rubs my hand, "it's alright, milady."

Just then, I hear my name get called. I turn and see Sandor, frozen at the end of the staircase. I smile and wave at him.

I stand and walk up to him. I haul him to my seat and sit beside him. He looks at the faces around the table.

"Here," I push some porridge towards him, "it's still a bit warm."

"I'll go get you some more food, lady," Riley says, gathering some of the empty plates, standing up, and walking off.

"I'll go help," Wencel stands next, cleaning off what remained on the table.

"I have to finish chopping wood," Ian says.

Graham leaves without a word.

Donnie stares at Sandor. Sandor stares back at him.

Trysha smiles, placing a hand on my husband's shoulder. He turns to her as she says, "my sons and I were keeping your lady company, milord. She is a darling. I'm glad to know how much you care for her."

Sandor turns to me. I smile and shrug.

With that, Trysha stands and nudges Donnie. The man follows and he clears his throat. He nods before walking off with his mother.

Sandor glares at him until he disappears. He turns back to me, "by all the gods old and new. What the fuck was that, woman?"

I wave my arms, "I ate with the inn keeper and her sons."

He groans and leans towards me. He wraps his arms around me and I whimper when he bites my neck.

"I won't share you," he mutters against my skin, rather unprompted.

I am tickled by the feel of his beard and pull away, "Sandor-"

"Don't leave the room before I wake ever again."

"San-"

"I'm not playing," he straightens up, "this isn't a game, girl."

I press my lips into a line.

Riley comes back with some food for Sandor. The two of them stare hotly at the other before Riley walks of. The Hound huffs as he begins to eat everything he gets his paws.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting my armor on, what does it look like I'm doing?"

I walk up next to him as he puts on his top. I knit my brows and place my hands on his arms to stop him, "we cannot leave yet."

"And why the fuck not?" he snaps, "don't tell me you want to hang around those smelly oafs."

I raise my brows at him, "you're one to judge a smelly oaf."

Sandor stills.

I release his arms.

We stare at each other.

I blink as I look up at him.

"Damn."

I bite my lip and break into a giggle.

Sandor sighs and shakes his head.

I yelp when he bends down and grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder. I shriek, "Sandor! My belly! Your armor hurts!"

Sandor dumps me on the bed and shakes his head again, "dirty game for a dirty girl," he removes his armor, "this what you wanted? To rid me of all my clothes? To bathe with me?"

He chucks his armor onto the floor dramatically.

I cannot help my laugh. I get on my knees and crawl towards him, "I wasn't playing a dirty game, dirty boy."

Sandor groans and places his large hand beneath my jaw, the rest of his palm sprawls on my neck.

I giggle and hand my hands on his wrist, "I had our clothes washed. We couldn't possibly leave them."

He rolls his eyes.

I scoff in offence, "do not roll your eyes at me.*"

He tilts my head back; his fingers snake into the roots of my hair, "do not play games with me then."

"I'm not-" I push him off and get on my feet, "-playing games with you!"

I impose upon him. I cross my arms and look down at him from where I stood on the edge of the bed, "why can't you take me seriously?"

Sandor looks up at me. His lips part and his breath hitches.

I await his response but he gives me none. He gawks at me instead. I knit my brows deeper, "well? Suddenly you're at a loss for words."

He gulps. He strokes his beard, "you're right... I should take my clothes off..."

I pull my head back, "wh-" I cut myself off as I watch him undress.

Sandor rids himself of his shirt and drops it on the floor. He eyes me up and down, "now you."

I am at a loss for words. He wraps his arms around my legs and sinks his face into my side. I place my hands on his shoulders and watch him as he inhales deeply. I cannot help but chuckle, "Sandor."

He looks up at me. I raise my brows at him. He rubs his face on my clothes.

"And here you had yourself believing I was the bitch in heat."

Sandor perks at the thought then bursts into a belly laugh, deep and rich and lovely.

I give a gleeful giggle in response. It realize now that this was a rather rare occurrence. I caress the side of his face, the scarred side. His laughter does not cease. He does not flinch.

My breath hitches when he leans back into my stomach. He sighs, "can you blame me? You smell so good."

I bite my lip and comb my fingers though his hair, "you have to help me out of my dress if you want me naked."

Sandor pulls back and gawks, rather taken aback.

I jump down the bed. I look up at him, then turn around. He wastes no time in undoing my dress. He was a bit too hasty about it, which elicits a giggle from me.

I tut, "husband. Do I look like I'm running away anytime soon?"

Sandor pushes my hair aside and licks a stripe on my neck, causing me to whimper. He nips the area then peppers it with kisses, "you make me feel like a starved dog."

I gasp when he pulls my dress off, along with the rest of my clothing. He wraps his arms around me and continues to kiss my shoulder.

He breaks away only to rid himself of his pants. I turn to watch and bite my lip at the sight of his half-hardened member. He cups my cheeks then he kisses me. I wrap my arms around him, moaning when I feel him press against me.

We end up on the bed, with Sandor squishing me beneath him. I mewl and make room for him between my thighs.

Sandor kisses my neck. My breath catches when he bites me harder than normal.

"Puppy," I whine.

The Hound groans and pulls away from my neck to roughly kiss my lips. I yelp when I feel him grind his hips into mine.

"Stop calling me that, girl," he mutters under a hot breath. He pulls away to give me a grumpy look.

I feel my belly flip. I chew my lip, bat my lashes, then kiss his chin, "but you are my puppy."

Sandor nudges my face with his own and nips at my jaw, "you should know that pups don't listen to anything but themselves."

I give and airy chuckle. He slowly moves down on me.

" 'M hungry."

"W-we just ate."

He kisses down my belly, "like the taste of pretty squirrels."

I grip on the sheets when he pushes my thighs up.

My mouth makes noises before my brain can tell it to do otherwise. My belly tightens and my breath catches as he kisses my womanhood. I whimper when he laps my folds through labored breaths. He hooks his arms around my thighs and pulls them apart when I begin to squeeze his face a bit too much.

"Sandor," I whine, looking down at him. I tangle my fingers into his hair and pull at his roots. I let out an erratic sound, "w-w-- mmm-- fuck- wait-"

Sandor does not hear me, or more accurately, ignores me and sucks on my sensitive nub. He goes on by licking firm circles and strokes on my weeping cunny.

We had done this only a few times, and each time, it was a mind breaking. Perhaps a little too much so.

My back arches as I feel myself come close to the edge. I squeal, "Sandor! Wai-" my voice breaks into a moan when he prods his tongue into my entrance to lick up my wetness. The lapping only intensifies, and I tense up even more.

I throw my head back and close my eyes, "S-Sandor, please."

He huffs and hums against my flesh.

With a cry, I come on his tongue and grind my hips against him. I feel him chuckle which just pushes me more over edge. I can feel him drink up all the wetness that comes from my pleasure.

He only stops when my legs begin to twist and shake in overstimulation.

My husband licks and kisses my thighs. The scratch of his beard was somehow comforting against my skin. He emerges between my legs but keeps himself between them as he lies atop me.

I instinctively wrap my arms around him as I catch my breath.

The wetness on his beard keeps the tingle in my belly. He rests his face on my shoulder, "delicious."

I feel myself blush, "Sandor."

"What? You like it when I kiss you there," he says a matter-of-factly, "you finish so quick when I use my tongue."

I scowl, "... that's the point... I shouldn't be doing that."

He lifts his head and raises a brow, "who says?"

"... I saith. You apologize everytime you finish quickly, I-"

"Fucking hell, woman," he sighs and rests his head back down, "that's not the same. I can't peak 10 times. But you can, and I'd love to make you one day."

My heart drops, "t-that's too much."

Sandor kisses my breast, "mmm, I got you to peak 3 times in one night before... what's seven more?"

I gasp at the idea.

He rubs my side and chuckles, "all the gods, old and new, I jest, my lovely wife."

I sigh in relief.

"...although half-hearted. I'd love to make you spill all over my face a thousand times."

"Sandor!" I swat his arm.

He laughs and tightens his arm around me, "you're too innocent to know men kill for this. I'm lucky to have such a dutiful bride."

I brush his hair and shift beneath him into a slightly more comfortable position. He immediately takes this as a sign of discomfort and pushes himself off.

"No!"

"I know," he hushes, "I'm here, love," he rolls over and brings me along with him.

I yelp and adjust once I'm on top him. He chuckles and squeezes me against him before allowing me to laze on top him.

I feel his hardened length on my thigh and gasp at it, "Sandor-"

"Nevermind it. I'll fuck you soon enough."

I chew my lips. This was why I did not want to come so fast. I want him to be pleasured too. I take a breath and decide to straddle his lap. I'm still overstimulated, evident by my shivers. The way Sandor moans and grabs my hips makes me want to power through it though.

He hisses my name out and evens his breathing, "are you trying to test me?"

I mumble weakly, "you can... stay inside..."

He cusses loudly.

"... then I'll move when I'm ready."

He screws his eyes shut and roughly squeezes my thighs, "you want to kill me. You want to fucking kill me, don't you?"

I bite my lip, "n-no, honey... but you know..."

I push him into my pulsing core and make him howl. In slight panic of his loud noise, I cover his mouth. He stares at me, dumb with lust, and pants.

I pull my hands away. I release a breath, "Trysha's sons offered to kill you."

A sliver of sobriety overcomes him.

"If you were cruel... they said they'd help me get free."

The Hound growls and sits up. I whine when I feel him rock his hips slightly, "am I cruel?"

He rubs my sides and kisses me. I make a sound when I taste myself on his lips. He clutches my body tightly. He presses a kiss on my ear, "maybe I should make you come on my cock 4 times."

I moan, "n-no, that's- that's too much."

I whimper when he begins to thrust into me.

"Sandor-"

"We'll see about that."

Sandor pushes me back and lifts one of my legs. He then proceeds to fuck me to prove a point; it brings tears to my eyes, literally. It was a mix of pain and pleasure that grew less and less painful and more and more pleasurable.

When I feel myself get close again, the idea of coming more than this exhausts me. I dig my fingers into his shoulders and beg, "please, please, come inside me. Please finish in me. Please, please-"

"You want my seed so bad, do ya?"

I nod frantically.

"You want me to come, or do you want my come?"

"B-both-- fuck--"

We both peak a few thrusts later. My mind goes numb as heat ripples through me. My shaking body follows after and soon I'm thrashing for respite.

Sandor pushes my thighs up to my sides and rests atop me. He kisses my cheek and licks my sweat.

I call out his name.

He calls out mine.

He kisses my cheek again, "you take me so well."

My eyes water, but out of exhaustion, if anything, "clearly, not well enough, my lord."

Sandor holds his breath.

I feel myself grow a little too hot, "Sandor... I'm too hot. Can you roll off?'

He pushes himself up on his arm and looks down at me, "I didn't mean it like that."

I raise my brows at his response and shake my head, "I'm not upset, darling. I genuinely am," I shimmy away from him, "burning up."

Sandor watches as I pull away.

I whimper as I feel my womanhood throb as some slick trickles out of me. I rest on my side and cross my legs. Sandor looks at me, rolling on his back. He reaches out for my hand and rubs it.

My expression softens, "I'm not upset."

He doesn't respond.

I clutch his hand in both of mine.

"Do you know the rumors of House Inglewood?"

I knit my brows, "no. I do not divulge in gossip, Sandor."

"Didn't think you did, but I know for a fact your blabbermouth wench does."

"Sandor," I say sternly, "stop calling Lucy names."

He tilts his head, "funny. I meant Cressida."

I raise a brow at him, "no, you didn't."

"Mmm," he chuckles, "no, I didn't."

I roll my eyes at him.

He scoots closer and laughs, "well, rumor goes the lord and lady of the house were unhappily arranged and could not conceive an heir... until Lord Inglewood's cousin made a visit."

I make a face, "I don't follow."

"Lord Inglewood has yellow hair, his cousin, red. The boy that was born to Lady Inglewood was a fucking ginger."

I raise my brows. I cannot help but feel sympathy for the lady, knowing how most ladies are treated, "people assume Lady Inglewood had an affair with her husband's cousin because of her son's red hair? They're cousins. They both could have yellow or red haired children."

"His cousin is not his blood relative."

I purse my lips.

"They became cousins when Lord Inglewood's uncle married into a house with a widowed lady."

I make a face and shake my head, "how do you know this? Don't tell me you listened to the maids in the Keep speculate."

"Against my will. They yap about like they're on either sides of a field."

I chuckle the sigh, "I sense you didn't simply want to share this rumor with me."

Sandor brings my hand up to his face, "they think it a wives' tale, but I've heard my fair share of yapping to know it's true. Men can be barren."

I tilt my head at his response.

"What are you going to do if the reason why you can't have a child is me?"

My lips part.

He turns his gaze to my hand. He rubs my knuckles.

My breath catches in my throat. My voice is low, "I... I don't believe it is."

"That's not what I asked, pretty squirrel," he mutters. He turns to me, "would you take another man?"

I am baffled by his question.

"If I was the problem, would you find someone else to father your child?"

I rip my hand out of his and sit up. I wait for him to say something, to retract his accusatory remark, but he doesn't. "You think so little of me," my eyes water, "I thought we were past this?"

Sandor sits up and raises a hand, "recall once when you told me to take another woman. I'm only asking if you would want the same for yourself."

"YOU DID NOT WANT ME!" I blurt and jump off of bed, "I told you to find another because YOU DID NOT want me!"

The Hound looks at me, as though he was wounded. He whispers, "I have always wanted you."

I scoff and begin to dress myself, "I did not know that."

Tears stream down my face as I put on my clothes. I turn from him as he stands and walks up to me. I pull away when he reaches out. He calls out my name cautiously.

"Do not touch me, brute," I hiss as I tighten the ties on my dress with much effort. I feel like I'm suffocating as I secure my clothing.

"You said it yourself," he speaks, dejected, "people remember names, not blood... I will safeguard any child that you b-"

"SILENCE!" I snap and heave. I place my hands on my stomach. I pant through my tears. I feel ill. I feel sorely loathsome.

He stares at me. He looks scared. I feel like retching. In fact, I feel like my morning meal wishes to find its way out through my throat.

The Hound approaches me when my breathing gets too irregular.

I sharply pull away and grab his clothes, throwing it at him in anger. He catches it. I cry, "does my love and affection ring so untrue in your ears that you insult me in the most egregious of ways?"

He can no longer keep his gaze upon me. He looks away and puts on his trousers.

"Do you even truly care for me?"

His head turns. He walks over to me, but I pull away still. The Hound is hurt. His eyes water, "you're the only thing I care about... you know this. Everything else is fuck all."

"Then why would you wish me away?!" I whine, "why would you want me to give myself up to a man I do not love to sate my want for a child?" I cover my mouth as I feel bile rise up my throat.

He calls my name.

"I know you don't care for my sense of duty, but -" gag "- do not mangle my discernment for the sake of dissuading me."

"That's not what I'm doing," Sandor speaks pleadingly, "I only wanted to-"

I feel too sick to listen to him. In the heat of the moment, I find myself running towards the window and hurling out of it. I vomit so much it comes out of my nose. I stare at the disaster that descended on the ground below. I retch at the sight.

I feel him rush over to me. I feel him rub my back.

"Fucking hells. What-"

"I told you not to touch me!" I hiss under my breath and elbow him weakly.

I wipe my mouth as he reels back. I glare at him even though my tears were burning down my cheeks. He looks frantic.

"If you do not believe in my curse, if you do not believe in my journey, if you do not believe in my love, do not twist it into mine own disbelief," I grunt and walk off.

The Hound watches as I begin to pack our things.

"You're right. We should not waste time on frivolity. The sooner we finish this damned trip, the sooner this torment can end for the both of us." I look over my shoulder, "that is, if you still wish to safeguard a woman who may have to bear someone else's child," I scoff coldly.

He does not respond.

I turn and raise my hands questioningly.

"You-" his voice breaks, "-have me til the end, my lady."

I turn away and continue packing.

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stormblessed95 · 5 months ago

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Hey I have a genuine question for you as a jikook supporter, now that I watched the first eps of are you sure?

I love jikook and I've been a supporter for soo many years now. Never doubted their - for me - obvious romantic relationship.

No one seems to talk about it after watching the first eps of are you sure?, but what do you think about the very beginning of the show, where jikook talk about the fact that they haven't called each other during their solos? That fact really confuses me bc it would kinda invalidate our beliefs that they're in a romantic relationship?

Many many months ago, I some people were believing that they took a break from their relationship or smth. That never sounded plausible for me, until now tbh.

What do you think? Did you see someone talk about that part already? I'm really curious.

Hi! I'm 13 minutes into watching the episode right now. Lmao so I JUST watched the very beginning of the show. Are you talking about when they met up for dinner right after Jimin got there before JKs GMA performance the next day?

Jimin says "it's been a while since I last saw you."

Unless something comes up later about phone calls.... That's not what was said. I will come back to this though if a no phone calls comment comes up past the 13 min mark. Lol but...

Jikook were commenting "I miss you" on weverse to each other after meeting up together with all the members for dinner 2 days prior. And were talking about missing each other and asking Jimin to come over or vice versa on lives right after their trip. So clearly "awhile" for Jikook is not actually a long time. Lol plus during their solo schedules, which were not at the same time, we gotta remember. But they were booked solid and BUSY. They were both recording their albums, practicing choreo, and filming YEARS worth of content in just a few months. They just legitimately barely had time to sleep much less hang out. They were focusing on getting ready to leave and getting all their projects taken care of.

And yet, they still made time to travel together for 3 different weekends because spending that time together was clearly SO IMPORTANT to them

#jikook #kookmin #jungji #minkook #jikook are you sure #jikook travel show

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taleeater · 9 months ago

Text

Fragile Part 6

😈😈😈

(This chapter got too long- I had to cut it short,,,, :]]] Enjoy!)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, electrocution, graphic depictions of torture, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Today you were spending time with Donnie while he worked in front of his monitors. You liked it there much better than in his lab. He had a map of the city up with little marks indicating spots where the Foot had been spotted. But that wasn’t what he was working on right now.

No, you and Donnie were doing much more important things at the moment.

Like playing the new update in Stardew Valley.

“Fishing mods are cheating.”

You gawked at him in mock offense. “But you can’t pause in a multiplayer farm, there’s no time to play the fishing mini game!!”

“That’s why it’s more of a challenge!” He stuck his tongue out while he clicked his mouse rapidly to fight off a slime in the mines.

You pouted, adjusting the laptop in your lap. “I don’t need my cozy farming sim to be challenging…”

Donnie did not miss the cute grin that graced your face after, his heart fluttering in his chest.

These past few days you found yourself smiling more and more easily. Whether it was Mikey getting covered in flour while you baked cookies together, or Raph teaching you how to purl stitch, or Leo showing you how to wield a sword. You were enjoying spending more personal time with the turtles as you got to know them better.

Your toes curled where you were perched in the chair beside Donnie, glancing up at the map again. Your eyes always drawn to the blinking red dot marking the location of the lab you escaped only weeks before. The police had raided it and found it empty, which only increased your unease as to where Dr Stockman might be hiding. It already felt like a lifetime ago, that night when the turtles first found you.

You owed them your life.

“Hey (y/n), you almost ready for afternoon training?” Leo came over, snapping you out of your thoughts. Leo leaned against the back on Donnie’s chair, earning a dismissive swat from his younger brother.

“We’ll stop after we finish up this day, Leo.” Donnie said not even taking his eyes off the screen. You giggled and got back to fishing on the beach.

You were two hours into your training session with Leo.

“Okay, good. Now when you kick, focus on your balance. Stay firmly planted and your leg should have more power.” Leo coached you.

Master Splinter was supervising while sipping his tea. It had barely been 5 days since your mutant abilities had manifested. But you were already making astounding progress in unlocking its potential. Leonardo had played a big part in the process, being the one who had helped you work through your fears of using your mutant reflexes, so the abilities came more easily to you when training. He trained with you every day, while Master Splinter provided guidance. Everyone was doing their best to support you through all the changes.

Casey suddenly jogged in through the entrance of the lair.

“Guys! Just got word, the Foot are planning to rob a warehouse full of high tech weapons tonight. We gotta go intercept it.” He said waving around his cellphone.

“What? Where? Their communication frequency has been quiet since they moved those chemicals to the old Sacks building!” Donnie spun around in his chair to face Casey, you and Leo walking into the living room with Raph and Mikey close behind.

“Queens. Our contact in the Foot Clan leaked the info to us just half an hour ago.”

“Huh, that’s strange. That’s all the way on the other side of town. Aside from Sacks Tower, they’ve only really been active around the East Village and ChinaTown this past week. Maybe they changed their frequency again to throw us off track.” Donnie was quickly typing up info on his keyboard.

“Well, regardless, we better go check it out.” Leo sighed. He wanted to keep training with you, but it would have to wait.

“Heck yeah! I’m bringin’ the steak-out snacks. Who wants Doritos?” Mikey grabbed his ratty old Jansport backpack and started shoving cans of Orange Crush into it.

“(Y/n), you stay here and keep an eye on Donnie’s computer. The Foot might try to communicate about their raid tonight. Donnie’s program will intercept it. April will be here in about an hour, so just tell her if anything suspicious comes up.” Leo asked you.

“Right!” You said standing to attention and giving a military salute with a silly little grin on your face.

It made Leo’s heart melt in his chest and his expression turned soft.

“Just, stay safe, okay?” He patted you on the head then headed for the exit.

As the rest of the boys filed out of the lair, they each stopped by you. Mikey getting a high five, you quickly cleaned Donnie’s glasses for him, and Raph, always last, ducked down for a quick hug when his brothers weren’t looking. Casey rushed ahead of them.

Master Splinter waved goodbye to his sons next to you. Once the boys had left, he informed you he was going to go meditate, and to come find him if you needed anything.

About 45 minutes later, you were casually watching YouTube videos on Donnie’s computer when a flashing red light appeared on the screen. It was indicating that Donnie’s program was intercepting a message from the Foot’s closed communication server. A message popped up on the screen, and you gasped.

“We have captured the turtles. Continue with the plan.”

Then a video feed loaded up on the main screen.

Your blood ran cold.

It looked like the feed from a security camera, depicting Leo, Mikey, and Donnie all locked in glass cages, restrained with thin tubes of red connected to their arms. They looked weak, they looked bad.

“What….? No… No, not this… please no…!”

Where was Raphael? He was nowhere to be seen. How did they get captured so fast…? They had barely been gone an hour!

Your mind was racing. You recognized those machines. Dr Stockman used them to take blood samples from Bebop and Rocksteady. If that was the case, there was no time to lose.

You made up your mind.

You snuck past the dojo and muttered a quick apology to Master Splinter. You knew Master Splinter wouldn’t let you go, so you kept quiet. Then you grabbed the handheld GPS device Donnie left on his work table. You entered the location on the map where the message was sent from.

The old Sacks Tower.

Time to move.

April arrived at the lair much later than expected. She and Casey had just finished speaking to the commissioner about police activities being leaked to the Foot. When they entered the living room, they were confused to only see Master Splinter waiting for them. The old rat was pacing and anxiously stroking his beard.

“Splinter? Where’s (y/n)?” April asked, confused.

Splinter shook his head.

“You don’t know where they are?” April became concerned, walking further into the lair.

“It appears, that our greatest fears have been realized.” His expression deeply troubled. Before April could ask, she noticed what Splinter was looking at.

Playing in a loop on Donatello’s monitor was old CCTV footage from when the turtles had been captured 10 years ago by Shredder and Mr Sacks. April breathed a sigh of relief, immediately recognizing the scene.

“Splinter, the turtles are safe. I spoke to Leo on the phone only 10 minutes ago. They’re staking out a warehouse in Queens. This is old footage.”

Splinter’s eyes widened and looked back to the screen. His expression turned contemplative.

“If that is so, then perhaps Miss (y/n) has made the same mistake.” He spoke gravely.

April had a look of shock. She quickly pulled out her phone and speed dialed Leo’s number.

Leo thankfully answered quickly. “Hey April, anything new?”

“Leo, is (y/n) with you?”

Leo paused a long moment and sent a look over to his brothers, getting their attention. “No…. Aren’t they at the lair?” All of his brother's eyes were suddenly on him. Leo turned the phone on speaker.

“No!! They’re gone. And there’s a video playing on Donnie’s computer. It’s a recording of you Mikey and Donnie locked up at Sacks’ estate from over 10 years ago… I think this is what (y/n) saw before they left.”

“They left?” Leo felt his heart drop into his stomach. “To go where, Sacks’ estate?” His brothers immediately started packing up their stakeout equipment to leave.

“No I don’t think so, the sender’s location was tracked, it’s still on the screen. It says it was sent from Sack Tower in Times Square.”

Donnie came over and joined in the call, typing furiously at the keyboard on his wrist. “Sacks Tower. That’s where they were spotted smuggling those stolen chemicals into the other day…! From my notifications, it appears that the message was sent through an older Foot Clan communication frequency approximately 43 minutes ago.”

“Donnie, how long will it take (y/n) to get to Sacks Tower.”

“From my calculations, if (y/n) left the lair heading to the Sacks building about 40 minutes ago, going by subway, they should arrive in about uhhh, approximately 8 minutes.”

“And how long will it take us to get there.” Raph asked.

“From where we are now, if we manage to hitch a ride on the next nonstop train to Times Square…… about 1 and a half hours.”

“Shit!”

Raph cursed loudly and turned away frustrated, and Mikey put his hands on his head. Donnie was typing away at the keypad on his arm, trying to find any kind of faster route and muttering about how stupid he was for not making you a shellcell.

“We don’t have a minute to waste. Let’s move out.”

That’s all they needed to hear. Everyone sprung into action and booked it for the closest subway station manhole cover.

“April, we are headed to Sacks Tower as fast as we can. And get ahold of the police commissioner again. Whoever gave us the information to come to this warehouse tonight was intentionally planted with misinformation. There was no sign of the Foot at the warehouse. …..It was most likely a diversion.”

“Right. I’ll get back to you soon.”

Leo hung up the phone and jumped off the apartment building and dove down towards the street’s manhole cover.

Leo grit his teeth.

“Hold on (y/n).”

The halls of the building were eerily empty. This place made your skin crawl. The laboratory felt all too similar to the one you had been trapped in before. But this one had clearly been abandoned for a long time. Broken glass, graffiti, turned over chairs, scattered paper. But strangely the power was still on. You didn’t dare try to use the elevator in fear of giving away your position. But you were confused as to why you had yet to see any guards. This is where the message was sent from, the turtles had to be here, right?

You climbed the steps to another floor, but paused as you creaked open the door exiting the stairwell. This floor felt like a world apart from the previous ones. It was clean.

And the lights were on.

You kept low, and hyper vigilant. Steadying your breathing like Leo had taught you, you crept into the sterile white hallway. There were glass windows along the hall looking into different labs. One held chemistry equipment, another held big bulky medical equipment that clicked and beeped. Finally, the last room at the end of the hall, a room with no windows. You had a sinking feeling in your gut, but still you crept towards the door. Slowly and quietly you pulled open the heavy door, and revealed a large lit room with a high ceiling, and there you saw it.

“Guys….!”

There along the back wall were 4 glass boxes with 3 of the turtles strung up and being drained of blood. You had found them! Seeing no one else in the room, you rushed in.

“I’m going to get you out of here, just you wait!” You went to the first machine in front of Donnie and reached out to touch the screen-

Your hand passed right through.

“What…?” You tried to touch it again but there was nothing there.

The hologram distorted, and then the turtles disappeared. You gasped.

It was a trap.

You turned around to book it towards the exit, but the door was opening again. Bebop and Rocksteady squeezed through the small door one at a time, and blocked your exit. Then over an intercom you heard the familiar laugh that sent a shiver down your spine.

Stockman chuckled darkly. “Just how I planned it! Like catching a fly with honey. So predictable!”

You backed up slowly as Bebop and Rocksteady approached you.

“Did you miss us, little kitty?” Rocksteady sneered.

The intercom buzzed as Stockman spoke again. “Bebop, Rocksteady, keep them occupied until I arrive. I will be there momentarily. And let’s not have a repeat of last time, please!” There was a clicking sound and the intercom went quiet.

Bebop chuckled. “Hell yeah! It’s been so long since we last played! Let’s make the most of it.”

“That’s right! And we gotta pay you back for all the trouble you caused us! We missed you so much after you left. You wanna go first Beebs?”

“My man!” Bebop smiled at Rocksteady and clasped his hand, they both laughed.

You tried your best to steady your breathing like Leo taught you. Your hands were trembling. But you needed a way out. Bebop and Rocksteady were not fast, if you timed it right, maybe you can get past them to the door.

Bebop approached you. You stayed still and waited. Then when he got close enough, you ran right towards him, surprising Bebop. He reached out to grab you but you slid right between his legs, then jumped up behind him and tried to run past Rocksteady before he could react. He was still too close to you and managed to grab you from behind, but you were ready for him. Just like in training, you reached up and grabbed him around his neck, and taking a deep breath, you threw all your strength forward and down and managed to flip Rocksteady onto his back- stunning him. You quickly jumped over him and ran for the door, slamming into it fast and wretched the handle to pull it open.

Locked. (Warning for graphic depictions of torture ahead.)

“No…!” You felt a bruising grip close around your arm, and you were torn away from the door. “NO!!” You cried out as you were thrown hard onto the floor between the two oversized mutants.

“See? Now that’s your problem. You gotta go makin’ our job harder than it needs to be!” Bebop complained.

Rocksteady was picking himself back up, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. “Don’t let them get to ya Beebs, we’ll sort them out quick before Stockman gets here.” Bebop then reached into his pocket and pulled out an all too familiar black taser.

Rocksteady took the taser and chuckled. “Little kitty needs a check-up!”

You tried to get up and run, but Rocksteady stomped down hard on your left arm. There was a sickening snap and you screamed, writhing in pain. You were pinned.

“Tsk, tsk. You know what happens when kitty gets naughty!” The taser was flicked on, all you could do was close your eyes before a strong surge of electricity was shot into your ribcage and throughout your body. You convulsed as the shocks seized you, your shoulder getting dislocated from the spasms, then collapsed back on the floor.

“Just like good ol’ times!” Rocksteady passed the taser to Bebop.

Rocksteady laughed and removed his foot from your arm, then Bebop tased you in the ribs again. You yelped and rolled onto your stomach, tucking your very broken arm underneath you and tried to crawl away.

“Hey, where ya goin? We’re just getting STARTED!” Rocksteady punctuated his sentence by kicking you in the stomach hard enough to throw you across the room. You hit the ground and your body rolled another few feet until you stopped on your side and curled in on yourself, the air knocked out of your lungs.

Bebop took his time strolling over to you, and grabbed you by the hair to lift you up. You coughed and gasped for air, grabbing at his hand and tried to pry his fingers off of his grip.

“Think you can just up and leave whenever you want, do ya?” He growled in your ear, then dropped you down haphazardly to the floor. You were on your knees, buckled forward and holding your left shoulder, when suddenly Bebop’s foot stomped down on your right ankle and you heard a loud crunch.

You shrieked.

Exhausted and riddled with unbearable pain, you crippled to the floor. It took everything you had just to pull breath.

“Alright, I’m back! How is our lovely patient doing?” Came the cheerful sing-song voice of Dr Stockman entering the room through the locked door, Karai tailing behind him.

“Hey boss! Uhhh, we were just warming them up for ya! See? They can’t run away no more.” Bebop nudged your side with his foot, knocking you onto your side so Stockman could see the pain riddled on your face. You were barely conscious by this point.

“Excellent! Bring them to me.” Stockman ordered.

Bebop picked you up by your good arm and carried you over to where Dr Stockman was walking to in the back of the room. Karai stepped in Bebop’s way for a moment, taking in your beaten appearance, and back-handed your face hard for good measure, leaving a shiny bruise and angry red gash across your cheek. That woke you up a bit.

Just enough to retaliate.

You took a deep breath and tore your arm out of Bebop’s grasp and punched Karai in the stomach, hard enough to throw her into a large display screen next to where Stockman was standing. Stockman squawked in surprise. She rolled onto the floor, and pushed herself up onto her side. Spitting a bit of blood onto the ground and wiping away at her lip.

You tried to stand on your good leg but you were too weak and collapsed back to the floor. Bebop and Rocksteady grabbed you by each of your arms and brought you in front of Stockman.

He was looking at you in awe, and reached out tentatively to swipe at the blood on your cheek. He rushed over to his desk, jumping a bit in excitement. He put a drop of your blood onto a slide, and observed it under his microscope.

“Ha…! HA HA…! YES!!” Stockman shouted in excitement and did a little dance. Bebop and Rocksteady exchanged a confused look and Karai stood up and walked over to Stockman, eyeing you angrily and rolling her shoulder.

“What does this mean?” She questioned him.

“It means that the mutation was a SUCCESS!!! Those stupid turtles must have triggered it somehow. And now we can finally proceed with the plan!!!” He grabbed something off his desk and skipped over to the stairs leading up to the circular titanium base in the middle of the room. “Bring them here!!” He called over, waving his hand to Bebop and Rocksteady.

They dragged you over to Stockman, and were deposited on the round podium that sat under a large glass tube. Stockman started to pull down long rubber tubes from above, and attached large thick needles to the ends. You tried once again to crawl away with your good arm, as Bebop and Rocksteady retreated.

But Stockman approached you from behind. In a quick jab, he stabbed the two needled tubes deep into your back. You grunted and groaned in pain, but could do nothing, collapsing on the podium. Beaten, bruised, and bleeding.

When Dr Stockman was finished, he descended the stairs and rushed over to his computer, giggling excitedly he typed in a command and the glass tube descended over you until it clicked into place at the sturdy titanium base. Locking you inside.

“They’ll be placed in suspended animation. Once the tank is completely filled with the preservation fluid, they’ll become nothing more than a convenient blood bag, supplying an endless supply of mutagen for our mutant army.” Stockman rubbed his hands together evilly.

“And what about the turtles?” Karai asked.

“It is already too late for them to stop us. Even if they manage to get through your guards, they will be unable to free them from this tank. Once I start the filtration process, I will delete the programmed command to empty or release the containment cylinder. They won’t be able to free them without my help!” Stockman typed away quickly at his computer.

One of the tubes connected to your back began to pull blood from your body, leading up through a small opening in the top of the cylinder then down into a canister at the base. Then from the second tube, a white milky substance full of liquid nutrients began to filter through and down into your body. It did nothing to numb the pain you felt as you laid there in a state of half consciousness.

Suddenly, the loud banging of gunshots could be heard somewhere outside the door.

“We’re not ready yet! Hold them back!” Stockman ordered Bebop and Rocksteady, who positioned themselves between Stockman and the door.

The door suddenly blew wide open, and the four turtles rushed into the room, angry and weapons at the ready.

“Where’s (y/n).”

Part 7

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

#tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt imagines #tmnt fanfic #bayverse donatello #bayverse raphael #bayverse leonardo #bayverse michelangelo

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the-universal-sun · 30 days ago

Note

On what age range does Stan regress? And also what type of agree gear does be use? Just politely asking as a fren :3

Yes! Thank you friend for the ask! There’s going to be more coming this way because I’ll have entirely too much time on my hands in the next few days! So please enjoy this too!

Can you guys tell what book I apparently really like?

I don’t think there’s a solid age he regresses down to, like consistently, I think it’s around the 2-5 mark, unless something happens or he’s feeling extremely distressed, then he regresses down younger. Which, in that case, means he HAS to have someone take care of him. Which is probably going to be Ford, he’s the only one he can really trust to care for him in the way he needs when he feels that young.

As for gear, it depends.

If Fiddleford is his caregiver (and even though this would be in the early 80s we are going to be anachronistic. This is fiction we can take liberties) then he’s getting at least one pacifier. Fidds probably made it for Stan so he doesn’t mess up his teeth even more, and he probably made it to have a cute little nickname spelled out. I like to think Fidds uses food/southern nicknames for Stanley when regressed, so think something like “Pumpkin” or “Junebug”. He does have his “Poindexter” plush that he’s had since he was 19, but Fidds does win him a really big Duck plush when the fair comes to Gravity Falls. He has some sippy cups because he has a tendency to tilt the cup all the way up and pour his drink all down his face and clothes. He really only has some footie pajamas for when it gets to be winter up there. It’s not easy to come by someone who will custom make clothes in gravity falls, especially nothing like the kind of clothes Stan wants. So he mostly settles for some softer clothing with fun designs and patterns. Nothing vibrant that’ll hurt his eyes. Sweats and grandma sweaters mostly. Fidds makes sure he has a lot of paper and coloring books with as many crayons and markers as he wants. He loves to color and draw. He also has some blocks, a lite brite for when the lights needs to be off so his eyes can rest, play doh, and fighting robots to name a few. He has a few story books that Fidds will read to him. Fidds wants to spoil him, but he knows that he can’t buy Stan everything he wants to, so he does what he can (for now…)

If Ford is his caregiver (we’re doing Grunkle Ford for now) then he is going to do his best to spoil Stan with all he wants as much as possible. From buying stuff online (the internet is marvelous!) to making/inventing it. Ford’s got Stan enough pacifiers stashed around the ship and later shack to have a different one every day. He’s getting Stan sippy cups of all kinds of patterns and designs. it’s easier than cups for him if he’s got dentures since he likes to take those out. He’s got one bottle for the times he’s feeling extra small. He’s got some nice and warm footie pajamas for when they’re in the Arctic, and some lighter ones for more general use-sometimes his brother just needs a lazy day where he can wear what’s basically pajamas. Those kinds of footies are going to be the kind that are animal themed with the ears and tails-Ford thinks they’re so cute. He’s also got some nautical themes pajama sets for the summers spent in Gravity Falls. That’s not even accounting for all the soft handmade sweaters Stan’s got from Mabel that he wears-his favorite having dinos on it-and the soft pants and shorts he feels more comfortable wearing now that his secrets out in the open. I’ve already mentioned Poindexter, that’s a staple for any kind of regressed Stanley, and I mentioned in a few posts Shanklin 2, the stuffed Opposum Ford gets Stan after finding out he’s barely got any Little stuff. He will give Stan all the toys he had back in Jersey and all the toys he’s ever wanted. Legos, blocks, slinkies, playdoh, etch n sketches, fighting robots, hard to break tea sets, coloring books, fancy crayons (This is art, it deserves the best!), anything Stan looks twice at really. He goes a bit overboard, but he’s just trying to make up for all the years he’s missed out on. Also Goodnight Moon, can’t forget that book. That’s Stan’s favorite out of the multitude of books Ford reads to him.

Now if it’s just Stan regressing by himself? He only allows himself the bare minimum. He has Poindexter, an old onesie he allowed himself to buy a few years beforehand, and old and worn pacifier, some crayons, coloring books, blank paper, Ford’s old coat that he likes to wrap around himself when he misses him, a sippy cup, and Goodnight Moon. He feels guilty letting himself indulge. He feels ashamed to be acting like that, a child, to be needing his paci and sippy cup, even in the privacy of his own home, even though he can’t help it. So without anyone there to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t allow himself to indulge or to spoil himself like he is when he’s being taken care of.

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blackenedsnow · 2 months ago

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Love your writing so bad like I wanna rq this cause It's so fun seeing how you write for every dude even the postal movie dude he is my cutiepie i swear /real

How would the dudes react being showered with kisses by their s/o then realizing they are covered in lipstick marks? cause these boys need sum kisses

the dudes being showered in kisses by their s/o ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Postal (1) Dude x Reader, Postal (2) Dude x Reader, Postal (3) Dude x Reader, Postal (4) Dude x Reader, Postal (BD) Dude x Reader, Postal (Movie) Dude x Reader

NOTE: I had so much fun writing these, and I’m thrilled you enjoy my take on each Dude! Enjoy!!

P1 DUDE

It’s the first time in a long while that he actually stops to live in the moment.

As your kisses cover his face, he’s initially tense, unsure of how to respond.

He stands rigid, clearly unused to affection of any kind.

But as you press more kisses to his cheek, forehead, and nose, he can’t help but soften a little.

When he finally pulls back and realizes he’s covered in lipstick marks, he’s… dumbfounded.

He stares at himself in the mirror, almost as if he can’t believe someone would willingly mark him with so much love.

“You… really like me, huh?”

he mumbles, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

You can tell he’s trying to process the warmth, the affection, and the idea that someone cares this much about him.

P2 DUDE

He’s already smirking as you start covering his face in lipstick marks, raising an eyebrow as if to say, Oh, really?

But he lets you keep going, his grin only growing as he playfully rolls his eyes and leans into each kiss, clearly enjoying the attention.

When he finally pulls back and checks himself out in the mirror, he laughs, reaching up to touch one of the lipstick marks on his jaw.

“Well, look at me—real killer, aren’t I?”

he jokes, half-proud and half-amused at the evidence of your affection.

“Guess I’m just too damn irresistible, huh?”

he says, throwing an arm around you with a smirk.

But there’s a genuine warmth to him underneath the teasing, and he’ll find little ways to keep the affection going, maybe pulling you in for a surprise kiss or making playful remarks all day.

P3 DUDE

He laughs when you start showering him with kisses, clearly flustered but trying to play it off.

“Whoa there, sweetheart, didn’t know you were this eager!”

When he realizes he’s covered in lipstick marks, he’s totally stunned.

He blinks a few times, then looks at you with a huge grin.

“Oh, hell yeah. Look at me, covered in love.”

He’s definitely the type to wear it with pride.

He might even show off to random strangers, pointing to a lipstick mark on his neck.

“See that? That’s from my babe. Lucky, huh?”

P4 DUDE

He raises an eyebrow when you start showering him in kisses, giving a dry chuckle.

“What’s this? Trying to leave me lookin’ like a clown?”

But when he sees the lipstick marks, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

He looks at himself, then back at you, a small smile breaking through his usual deadpan expression.

“Alright, I admit it… you got me.”

He keeps grumbling about it, but you can tell he’s secretly pleased.

He doesn’t wipe a single mark off, and later, he catches his reflection and lets out a quiet, affectionate sigh.

“Guess even a guy like me can get lucky.”

He gives you a playful nudge, muttering something about how he’ll get you back for all the ‘paint,’ but his smile says otherwise.

BD DUDE

He’s half-asleep, eyes barely open, lying in bed when you start covering his face with kisses, one after the other.

At first, he doesn’t even register it, thinking maybe he’s dreaming.

But the more you kiss him, the more he starts to mumble and groan, shifting just enough to get a better feel of your touch.

His reaction is hazy at first, a mumbled,

“Mmph… ‘s nice…”

as he melts under the attention, a sleepy smile crossing his face.

As he slowly blinks awake, he touches his cheek and feels the smudge of lipstick, finally noticing all the marks.

When he realizes you’ve covered him in kisses, he raises an eyebrow with a lopsided smirk, rubbing his jaw like he’s trying to remember how he got so lucky.

“Hey,… how come you’re givin’ me all this,?”

he mutters, still half-asleep but looking at you with appreciation in his eyes.

He’ll go right back to lying there, patting the spot next to him, only half-caring about all the marks.

“C’mon, don’t stop… feels pretty damn nice.”

He doesn’t care if he ends up a mess of lipstick smudges and soft bites because all that matters to him is that you’re the one who put them there.

He even playfully pulls you in closer to keep the kisses going, mumbling how he totally doesn’t mind being your canvas if it means waking up to more mornings like this.

MOVIE DUDE

He’s surprised, his eyes going wide as he registers your kisses peppering every part of his face.

His first reaction is a surprised laugh, not used to being shown so much affection so freely.

The sweetness catches him off-guard in the best way.

When he finally pulls back, he looks at you with that boyish grin, touching his cheek and noticing all the lipstick marks you left behind.

He’s more amused than anything, his hands still holding your face as he shakes his head a little.

“Wow, I’m like... a work of art here. You sure you’re not just tryin’ to show me off?”

he teases, touching the marks on his cheeks and forehead with a growing grin.

He lightly traces the ones on his neck, feeling a warm rush but enjoying it.

“Not that I mind...hah”

He’s gentle, practically glowing with happiness as he pulls you close again.

He’s not embarrassed about walking around with all the marks on his face—if anything, he takes it as a proud badge of honor, evidence of how loved he feels.

#postal dude #postal #postal dude x reader #postal 1 #postal 2 #postal 3 #postal 4 #postal brain damaged #postal movie #x reader #ask #request #fanfic #headcanons

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ctheathy · 10 months ago

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hi omg would you be able to do a smut nine x reader hcs??? i love how u tend to make the reader dominant, i'd love if in these hcs nine is suchhh a sub but tries to deny it and act dominant when really he so isn't... by smut it can range from heavy making out/suggestive to full on smut idm, whatever u can think of :3 (if ur gonna do full on nsfw can nine eat out the reader pls pls (afab reader)) tysmmm !!!!

Nine NSFW Headcanons

Nine x Reader

Suggestive+NSFW Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: pfft- Nine would be making sounds that haven’t even been discovered by science yet

Nine/Reader [Romantic]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

These are smut headcanons, read at own risk. dom!Reader+sub!Nine • Partly !Female!Reader • 1/2 eating his darling out [Fem!reader] • Breast foreplay • Marking • Biting/nipping • Drooling/Salivating • 2/2 making out session [Gender-neutral!reader] • Gagging • You basically shove your tongue down his throat

- ½ Nine eating you out

I honestly just enjoy the idea that Nine is already quick to get hormonal and in the mood. But he gets in heat especially quick when you get a little too whiny and pouty. I just imagine you whimpering for one single time and his whole body would tense up, pressing his legs together and biting away at him bottom lip to the point it almost splits. Trying to keep himself from getting ...hard from something as simple as a subtle mewl. He is so weak towards you, your emotions and the way that you feel to the point any sense of self control can go out of the window. When you're showing signs of being turned on and when he can quite literally smell your arousal, he's gonna have to fight tooth and nail to not get aroused himself.

This is certainly not something that would have too much of an improbability of happening. As you see, the thing about Nine is that he can already be quite lustful in general due to his bottled up frustrations. Now add on several years of isolation from other creatures and you have a boy who hasn't satisfied his primal urges and inner desires for literal ages. But you can make all his anger, frustration and self-hatred turn into a desperate need and craving for you. You could enjoy taking away any sort of dignity and prideful nature that he has left when the intimacy gets to that point, before giving some of it back through your praise after the ordeal. You'd absolutely know him and his vulnerable spots good enough for you to really set him off, because at the end of the day, you'd always have him begging for more.

You could start off a bit simpler before allowing him to eat you out like that, but still feed into his uncontrollable horniness for you. You can begin with giving Nine the opportunity to touch your chest with his mouth, something despite with his shy embarrassment and hesitance, it being something he just couldn't say no to. You could just sit there and lean back all smugly, while Nine's on his paws and knees infront of you, shivering and head hanging down as he shakily reaches out to one of your breasts, fighting his dripping arousal from staring at your bare and exposed chest alone.

But that's a point of no return ...and to take it to the next level. After that heck of a fest Nine had with drooling all over your boobies, he'd definitely be more open and quick to agree to foreplay that includes him pleasing you in some manner, because ultimately, it really pleases him as well. Not only because your body shape and appearance triggers something inside of him, but because you trust him with your body. And that's how you two got to oral fixation, something Nine would want to think about it for a little while. I mean. HIS mouth?? DOWN there??? Though he would be lying if he wasn't intrigued by the idea. The way you excitedly spoke about it in detail got him excited too... And so, he would cave within under a week at max. Even with his denial, he would absolutely be the most eager in the ENTIRE world for that little taste of your bottom half and he would absolutely make sure that he wouldn’t let you down and leave you unsatisfied under any circumstance

And as soon as he gets one of the tips in his mouth, he could start to feel himself melt. It's just the softest and most squishy flesh he's ever felt in his life. His mouth would start watering the longer your breast is inside of him, and his saliva would slowly begin to seep all over your skin. He'd have his self-control at first, but it wouldn't take long before he'd needily start licking his drool over every inch of your chest as if trying to mark it. He'd be all over you and goes completely feral as soon as he feels your nipple hardening against his moist tongue, as he'd let out a soft moan while feeling that change in texture. Nine's tongue would just swirling around your chest, with his body shivering and trembling with every lick and swirl. He’d glance up at you with those pleading puppy-dog eyes for approval while you just look down at him with such a cheeky grin.

Nine would absolutely be reaching for your fluids like it’s a bottle of fresh water in the middle of the Sahara, he’s never wanted to try anything more in his whole life than he wants to have your sweet nectar right now. He would become so desperate and overstimulated that every second he’s away from it would seem like an eternity... and he'd just want the volcano to erupt in his mouth. If you could easily control yourself and just not let your climax happen. No matter if it's for the sake of teasing him or just having the self-control, this would only drive Nine further into going berserk. His entire existence would become centered around having that release in him one day, tasting you like you're the last meal on Mobius.

Nine would desperately try to keep his calm and pretend that he wouldn’t absolutely go crazy if he actually had a taste. He’d absolutely be in a huge need for more of you and it’d be such a spectacle. His face all red with him basically panting over you. And as soon as he'd even start, Nine wouldn’t be able to focus on any single thing at all. His senses would be completely overwhelmed from everything that’s going on because he’s not used to this kind of stuff at all. Even as he's the one eating you out, his own junk cannot help but keep pulsing as he continues doing it. He'd get a bit impatient and would really want more attention to be brought to his privates, so he might just start touching himself in the duration of the moment... which would definitely make him more vocal, even with his tongue in your folds. You could look down with amusement as he plays with himself, all while his needy moans begin echoing through the entrance of your body.

But Nine always seems to remain on high alert on what's happening to you physically. If you just so happened to let out any grunts or moaning noises, those sounds would go straight to in-between his legs. Any noise that indicates that you're enjoying yourself would definitely keep him going... Even if you're just breathing funnily, he'd get an adrenaline boost that motivates him to become more sensual with the movements of his tongue, getting more desperate to make sure to never fail you in this matter.

Though if you were the type to start squirming all over the place with his mouth still on you. Or if you were to rock your hips back and forth into his tongue, that's when he would just crumble and lose it. You'd just be using his tongue to make yourself feel good, something that turns him on so much more than he'd ever believe it would. His body would be going haywire and he would start gently biting and nipping on your most sensitive nerves to try and get even more of your juices, his tongue would be doing absolutely everything that it possibly could because he’s never been this aroused in his entire life. It would be a scenario that he will absolutely never get over and which he'd be utterly desperate to experience once again.

- Making out sessions

The thing about all of this that's the most exciting is just how absolutely convinced Nine is in his disliking towards being so vulnerable and in a submissive position, and yet he would be so incredibly needy for more. Even if there are moments where he doesn't enjoy being under your command, he would be begging you to continue, begging you to kiss him deeper, to go further than he's ever been, all for you. He must feel intimidated by how submissive he is around you, he must feel intimidated by how vulnerable you makes him feel, but he just can't stop, just can't stop wanting more of you and your sweet tongue.

The kisses that you give Nine is certainly something that manages to keep his on his toes. Though your pecks are as innocent and sloppy as it can be, every very time your mouth is on his, you manage to take control and shatter his mind little by little through the heat of the moment. You're always so teasing... pulling out and taking it back as soon as Nine is shown enjoying himself, keeping him so needy and so utterly horny for more while you feed him these little crumbs. As soon as you're slowly pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, you should purposely roll up your tongue as it's sliding down the back of his mouth. You'd have Nine gag at times with ease while his eyes keep rolling back with just how overstimulated he's getting. And with how teasing and playful you're being through the kiss, there's no way he'd be capable of keeping in his loud, pleading moans. He'd love the sensations so much but would feel so shameful for enjoying it as much as he does.

But at that point he would 100% be loudly begging for you. Crying out for more and more, for you to keep using your tongue on him because his brain is too overwhelmed with the intense pleasure he’s receiving to even really think about anything else other than how amazing it feels. I can picture him crying and sobbing, maybe even begging with you to take him to your room. He would become obsessed with that tongue of yours if you just kept it going for long enough.

He would have no choice in the matter, you would absolutely force him to look you right in the eyes as his vision blurred and his whole body trembled in a way he never thought possible. It would be so intense he'd think he was having a seizure. He would still find a way to keep trying to lock his eyes on yours to contain some sense of dominance, but his head would just be going back and forth, his tongue desperately reaching for yours whenever you pull back, needy to taste you again with his eyes rolling back and trying his absolute hardest to not explode. He couldn’t last much longer at that point, his body eager to betray him and his mouth and tongue would be yours further upon that point.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

The poor bastard would look like he’s being electrocuted, the moment he’d try to maintain eye contact he’d just go cross eyed. He’d be completely and utterly broken at this point. As soon as you release him and let go, he’d be a puddle on the ground with his mouth wide open and eyes rolled, just mumbling absolute nonsense while you gaze down at him. A lovestruck, heart-filled look in his eyes as soon as he manages to get back to Earth Mobius. I’d be genuinely surprised if he could even recognize his own name at that point because he’s just been reduced to a drooling puppy who wants to satisfy you.

Something you'll have to make sure he keeps doing with his bratty bottom energy

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #tails x reader #sonic the hedgehog #miles nine prower #sonic prime nine #tails nine #nine tails #nine the fox #nine x reader #sonic smut #nine sonic prime #nine smut #tails smut #sonic prime nine x reader #sonic prime x reader #nine x reader smut

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seastarblue · 23 days ago

Text

Writemas Day Four!

dayyyyy fourrrr baybeee!

the prompts for today!

the ones I chose were:

Aching

Setting in a tower

“The knife trembled in their hand”

The chill of raindrops

a tw or two: mentions of solitary confinement, mention of whipping

enjoy! <3

———

Blackfort’s solitary confinement tower was many stairwells illuminated by torchlight, a stark contrast to the rest of the city, which ran on runelights. The warden climbed up each flight, pausing only briefly as she peeped into the cells, holding one downtrodden prisoner each. Some glared at her, others ignored her, and still others slept their sorrows away.

When she reached the tenth story she was gasping for air, inhaling the scent of hay, sweat, and various other pungent odors. After a moment she shook off any lingering fatigue, as she did not need to be seen as weak by these criminals.

The warden made her way to a specific cell, this one marked with a single 10-2 at the top. She took a large keyring out of her pocket, and found the correct key. Placing the key into its lock, she turned it and stepped inside.

The chill from the rain outside greeted her, giving her slight relief from the tiring climb up here. Giddiness crept into her, but she forced it down. For now.

The cell was a smaller one, hay piled up in the corner acting as a bed, a small bucket on the opposite side. Against the back wall sat a half elf, her formerly long black hair now shorn close to her head, drawing more attention to her pointed ears. The prison uniform hung on her lank frame, and her legs were curled up against her. A chain wove its way from her ankle to a small hook at the center of the cell, and over this the warden stepped to greet the prisoner.

“10-2.”

No reply. The warden took another step.

“10-2. I am speaking to you. Answer.”

The half elf raised her head, pupils contracted so much that the warden could barely tell they were there. She stared at the warden, keeping quiet.

“Well?”

“…Good… evening?” she managed, voice cracking.

The warden kept her tone nonchalant. “No, it’s much past evening now.”

The prisoner licked her chapped lips and looked back down.

“You would have known that, had you not broken the rules last week.”

Silence from the prisoner.

“What did I just say?”

“Yes ma’am.” 10-2 did not make eye contact, and her voice was barely a whisper.

‘So dejected,’ the warden thought. That simply would not do. 10-2 had only been here for a few weeks, there was no way she’d learned her lesson after such a short time, especially considering the severity of her crime. The warden tsk-ed. Why anyone would ruin their life by pointing out some rules were… slightly bent by an organization as big as the Academy was beyond her. Either way, she had come to relive 10-2 of her solitary confinement.

The warden snapped out of her thoughts as 10-2 shifted slightly, causing the chain to rattle.

“Causing a ruckus, are we?” she chided, crouching down. A smile had crept onto her face, though it would make a normal person’s blood run cold.

It had that effect on 10-2. She immediately stiffened, and kept her eyes pinned to her wrapped feet. The warden’s smile deepened. If her prisoner wouldn’t entertain her a bit, then she’d make her.

The warden reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pocketknife, one she used in case of emergencies. Sometimes the prisoners forgot their places. 10-2 never did lash out at her, or any guards, but it was her tongue that got her trapped here. The warden honestly considered cutting it out, but she didn’t want to lose her job.

“Why don’t you pick that lock, 10-2?” she started, standing back up. “Since you’re already so keen on breaking and entering anyways.” A scoff escaped her as she tossed the knife. It landed right at 10-2’s feet with a clatter that made the half elf flinch. “Hurry up. If you’re not done in, say, ten minutes, you’ll be stuck here for another month.”

10-2 paled, even more than before, and the warden was ecstatic.

She loved her job.

~~~ The knife trembled in Li Hua’s hand. Both of them ached, badly, as did her ankle from the chain, her wrist from the effort it took to saw it, and her back from when they whipped her… a month ago? She didn’t know. But she was free, for the most part. She did not need to stay another minute in that solitary cell.

When the warden came, she tsk-ed again—‘the bitch wanted me to fail, I bet’—and called a guard to escort—or rather, drag—back to the common cells.

They placed—or rather, dumped—her onto a cot, where she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

———

Now the General Writing list! lemme know if you’d like on/off!

@bunnymermaidwrites @abiteofhoney @aalinaaaaaa @vesanal @cepheusgalaxy

@fifis-corner @urnumber1star @thebookishkiwi @sunflowerrosy @theink-stainedfolk

@threedaysgross @mundanemoongirl @satohqbanana @bamber344 @imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese

@ash-thedrawer @cc-writes-stuff @anothersummerofsleep @sharkblizzardblogs

@verdant-mainframe @kittrrrr @ruvastuon

and the host of this event, @agirlandherquill !

#writeblr #o(sea’s)#sea’s story 1 #writers on tumblr #writemas #osea: Li Hua

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cumulo-stratus · 1 year ago

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hi sweet max!

I’m here to drop in a request for Aaron x bau!reader, where reader’s just noticing all the little things Aaron does for them in their day to make it better and easier and how THOUGHTFUL HE IS, like maybe he buys their favourite drinks to stock the fridge on the jet and in the office, making sure that their keyboard at their desk is always charged bc he’s there so late at night and he knows they’d forget. maybe he picks them up in the mornings to make sure they get to work on time. Just him trying his hardest to help them out in teeny tiny ways that make a big difference? sorry if this is long or boring I can try something else but yeah! He’s just so cute and thoughtful. Also masc or gn reader is fine, whichever you prefer!! <3

The Little Things

Request- yes/no

Pairing- Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

Summary- you notice all the little things Aaron does for you everyday (could be read as romantic or platonic)

warnings- like one use of y/n, fear of flying, mentions of eating/not eating

A/N- Rooommmee!!!! Thank you for this absolutely lovely request, I hade SO much fun writing this, and I may have gotten a little bit carried away😅! But anyways he would SO do that- he's a gentleman fs!! Love u Rome 🫶🫶

wc- 2k

Despite the bright, morning light shining through the large rectangular windows, you still yawned for what must’ve been the fifth time in just as many minutes. In your defense the team had wrapped up a case pretty late the night before. Which meant by the time you were in bed and asleep, it was only a couple hours until your alarm went off to go back to work again the next morning.

Spencer had arrived around the same time as you—you both took public transit to work— so he pushed open one of the large glass doors marking the entrance of the BAU. Both you and Reid offered each other warm, but tired smiles as he let you go ahead of him, holding the door.

coincidentally, you both start making your way to the small kitchenette in the corner of the large bullpen. since you hadn’t had any coffee yet, you B-lined straight for the old, barely functioning coffee maker. Gideon had refused to get a new one when Garcia mentioned getting a keurig, stating that all the new ones these days were too fancy- a coffee maker did not need a screen. So that's how you ended up with a coffee pot with stains and knicks all over it from constant use. But what you noticed when you approached it wasn't the coffee maker itself. But what was sitting next to it.

your snoopy mug!

you couldn't help but break out into a grin at the sight of your favorite mug, it was white with an image of the little white dog, sitting on top of his little house in his signature aviator goggles, hat, and a red scarf. Except the bright red scarf trailed out behind him and morphed into the handle of the mug.

Reid noticed your excitement as he poured his own mug of coffee. The pot was about ¾ full, Hotch and Morgan having already got to it. “Nice mug” Reid commented with a smile as he stirred what must’ve been at least 2 tablespoons of sugar. You thought he was smiling because it was a cute mug—which it was—but Spencer was mostly smiling because he had noticed hotch watching from the window of his office.

Aarons face had one of his rare smiles that actually reached his eyes. He couldn’t help but blush as he watched you fawn over the mug to Reid. A couple minutes later, after Reid had left for his desk, you made eye contact with Aaron, smiling. Then, if he hadn’t gotten the point already, you took a sip of the hot coffee- which you had forgotten was still hot and scrunched your face in pain. It had burned your tongue, causing you to stick your tongue out in pain. Aaron laughed at the silent scene he watched unfold, but you didn't notice as you had already shook it off and walked to your desk.

Only minutes after you had settled into your desk, JJ stood on the raised walkway above the bullpen, calling for everyone to meet in the round table room. They had a case. You a bit reluctantly, heaved yourself up from your chair, the weight of sleep still wearing off. Derek chuckled, and gave your arm a playful shove. As you walked by Spencer's desk, Morgan mussed with his hair to get his attention, as he was so absorbed in his book that he hadn’t heard JJ announce the case.

“Come on pretty boy, we got a case-“ Morgan didn’t finish his sentence before you had sped ahead to catch up with Aaron as he made his way to the round table room. “Thanks for the cereal bar by the way, I forgot breakfast on the way out again.” You spoke casually, barely even making eye contact with him, as this was a normal occurrence. You often arrive at work to find a cereal bar, or pastry on your desk with a little note on it. They were usually Aaron reminding you how important it was to eat.

“you need to eat breakfast you know y/n, it’ll affect your abilities in cases if you're not careful you know” you just rolled your eyes at Aarons comment, he was often very protective in that way. Although it was a bit annoying sometimes, you mostly found it endearing. It showed that he cared.

Instead of responding to Aaron’s comment, you just took a bite of your cereal bar as you sat down. JJ started going over the case, 3 women in Wisconsin were missing and presumed dead after days of searching.

”wheels up” hotch called to the team, and everyone almost immediately dispersed to get themselves ready to leave.

—

As everyone filed onto the plane and took their seats, you followed Aaron, as you and he often bounced ideas of each other well. And for one other reason. but no one else, not even Emily, your best friend (only second to Aaron), knew about it except for you two.

You had a fear of flying, take off and landing in particular always freaked you out. You knew it wasn't a good phobia to have, considering how much flying you had to do for your job, but you couldn’t help it. That’s where Aaron came in, you would always sit next to him at the tables, and he would always offer you his hand under the table. He never said anything about it, and no one ever noticed. but every flight a minute or so before takeoff and landing he would rest his hand palm up on your thigh in a silent offering of comfort. and every flight for a minute or so after take off and landing he would keep your hand in his, letting you play with his fingers knowing it often helped you ground yourself and refocus.

That day he offered a small smile along with his hand when no one else was looking. Morgan and Reid were arguing, JJ was scolding them, Rossi was reading a book, and Emily was getting herself a cup of tea. You decided to get yourself something too, after take off of course when the plane was safely en route to wisconsin.

When you approached the tiny kitchenette of the jet the first thing that came to mind was something snarky, like cheetos. JJ always kept them stocked. But then you noticed your favorite as you scanned the small cupboard, cheddar pringle’s! They were cheesy, crunchy and salty- aka the perfect chip. You immediately grabbed them and tore off the lid, excited to eat the crunchy chips. You had only had coffee and a cereal bar to eat so far that day. Aaron watched you walk back to your seat with a contented smile on your face and a small bounce to your step.

When you arrived at your seat you didn't hesitate to plop down next to Aaron and take a big bite of chips. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit at your obsession with the salty snack and decided to comment, knowing he had put them there last case, noticing they didn't have any.

“oh, looks like you found your favorite, how nice-“ his smile was almost sly and you noticed. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots that he had restocked them, he often did. And they were often your favorites, your favorite energy drink in the fridge, your favorite protein bars in the cupboard, and your favorite snacks on the jet.

—

After a long day of profiling in Wisconsin, the team had ordered take out and decided to all sit together around the large table in the conference room that had been provided by the local police department.

You sat with Aaron to your left, and Derek to your right. THere were 2 trays of food in the middle and various smaller dishes surrounding it. Most of the team was still discussing the case as they served themselves from the various dishes.

You were the last person to serve yourself, as you had been too absorbed in a conversation with Aaron about where he got his many, very, nice suits. You had learned that Aaron Hotchner gets all of his suits tailored.

After lots of discussion, and some slightly subpar asian food, the team was ready to get back to work, it was only 9 o’clock, and they were all pretty much workaholics. So reid went back to his many colored markers and his geo-profile. For whatever reason, you hadn’t been able to sleep very well the night before, and due to that you were practically falling asleep standing up. You had moved from sitting into a standing position in order to keep yourself awake a little more.

It wasn't working. And Hotch noticed this. Aaron used his legs to push up and out of his office chair away from the table to where you were standing about a foot away. He tapped your shoulder to get your attention before speaking. Your head snapped towards him, surprised, as if you hadn’t even noticed him approaching in your trance-like state.

”y/n, you should go back to the hotel, you're no use if you're not clear headed. The team will benefit from you much more if you just get some rest and come tomorrow morning”. You almost immediately tried to protest leaving, but a stern look from Aaron put any protests to rest. Even when you really wanted to protest the idea of him driving you to the hotel, since in his words “you're in no condition to drive, I don't need an agent in a car crash and 3 dead women”. Eventually you had accepted it, as you were too tired to care by the time you and Aaron were on the road to the hotel.

Aaron left the radio on, playing quietly in the background so the silence wouldnt be awkward. But, number one, you were already half asleep by the time he started driving, and number two, the silence was never awkward with Aaron, you felt comfortable with him.

When you arrived at the hotel, hotch shook your shoulder lightly and you jumped awake saying, “Im awake! I'm here! I'm ready..” before trailing off and yawning. Hotch chuckled as he walked around the car to open your door for you, inviting you to step out in front of him. He walked with you to the elevator and pushed the button for you, always a gentleman.

When you finally got into your room after struggling with the key for a minute, you flopped face down on your bed with a groan as Aaron watched from the doorway. When he noticed the lamp on he immediately started crossing the room to turn it off, so you could sleep.

After the lamp was turned off, and Aaron was sure you were okay, and fast asleep, he left for his room in order to change his shirt as he had spilled soy sauce on it at dinner. After making his way to his room down the hall and fumbling with his own key, Aaron made it into his own room to pull out a new shirt. After the long process of taking off his tie and jacket, switching shirts, and putting his tie and jacket back on, he turned off the lamp on the desk near the door. Aaron shut the door behind him quietly so as to not disturb anyone at 10:00 at night.

At first he continued past your room, but then two steps later he changed his mind, turning on his heels back down the hall. He wanted to make sure you were alright one last time before he went back to the police precinct. He had made sure to get a copy of everyone’s room key when they checked in, in case of emergencies. And it wasn’t exactly an emergency, but if you didn't tell, Aaron wouldn't.

When the door clicked open quietly, light from the hallway bled into the dark room. In front of him lay your sound asleep body, still in its work clothes, passed out face down on the hotel bed. Aaron couldn't help but smile as he approached you, bending down to your level. When his face was level with yours he left a small kiss on your cheek, before retreating back into the well lit hallway and into the night.

The End

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