#justice for blonde men

[ennawrite]

mfs be like “this is the ugliest man i’ve ever seen i’m glad the fmc dumped him for the shadow daddy” and it’s a (canonically) beautiful man with flowing golden hair and piercing emerald green eyes

[hooked-on-hightide]

has this been done yet

[romanvaloakadrbenz]

Bro, I understood half of what they said but geez I want someone to look at me like he does 😭😭 also Joost looks like such a baby 😂😂

[deathsweetblossoms]

Love was a family religion, passed down to her when she'd been too young to protect herself from belief.

[andypantsx3]

contents: general bakugou x princess reader; 1.1k, fem reader. lowkey dedicated to the loml @ofmermaidstories even tho there's e2l undertones.

thinking about being a princess forced into a political marriage. your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry.

already several of the more prominent families are forming factions; those with eligible sons are desperately trying to engineer opportunities for themselves, those without are amassing foot soldiers and weapons.

you cannot stand any of the pompous, greedy, egocentric princelings put forth by the noble families; men who care nothing for the country or its people, men with no thought for policy or justice—men who would gorge themselves on wine and women as the country crumbled at their feet.

even with a husband, there is no guarantee against a coup, not unless your husband is formidable enough to suppress one.

there is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne, one man with a head for strategy, a sense of duty, and a reputation strong enough to suppress the growing threat of political discord.

you find general bakugou katsuki in his quarters in the small hours of the morning, unable to sleep for your nerves.

"princess," he rasps, opening the door in nothing but his breeches. your face burns as you're confronted with the sight of a man's naked chest, miles of bare skin, golden in the glow of the torch lights.

"general," you say, resolutely raising your eyes to his face. there is no time to dance around the issue. "i need you to marry me."

bakugou's blonde hair is bed-rumpled, his manner sleep-soft, though his gaze is sharp. he watches you for a long moment before answering.

"'s an awful unromantic proposal," he says, an eyebrow raising.

despite his honorability, he's always had a way of grating on your nerves, and he knows it. you can't stop the reflexive scowl that paints your mouth, nor the irritability that seeps into your tone.

"i am being serious," you say, crossing your arms.

bakugou's eyes follow the movement. you are suddenly all too aware that you've marched through the castle halls in nothing but your night rail, too overcome with the thought of what must be done to pay the appropriate attention to your wardrobe.

"what, you lookin' to consummate it now?" he asks, gaze almost burning through the thin cotton of your shift.

your ears go hot. "can you stop being the most obnoxious man on earth for one moment."

bakugou leans an arm against his open door, bicep flexing with the movement. you try valiantly not to notice the way the shadows pool in the divots of his muscle, the way his trousers sit against the plane of his toned stomach.

"if you want me to say yes, you're gonna need to be a little nicer, princess," he says, mouth flicking into an awful little smirk.

"general—bakugou," you hiss. "do you want to watch the country you've spent years defending dissolve into nothing at the hands of these narcissistic, coddled fools?"

"rich words for a princess," bakugou says, his voice nearly a growl in the dim.

you are aware that you are sheltered as a royal. you are aware you are soft and naive. but you are educated, you are strong-willed, and you care. you may not be a son to your father, but you know you know have studied harder than any man on your father's court. you want to do your best for this country.

"do not mock me," you command.

bakugou's scarlet gaze trails over you, hot and liquid in the flickering torchlight.

"no? then what d'you want me to do to you?" he asks.

you fight down the furious flush of humiliation. "i want you," you repeat through gritted teeth, "to marry me."

bakugou's golden eyelashes dip as his gaze slides back over your crossed arms, then lower, all the way down to your bare toes. you feel horribly vulnerable under his scrutiny, even more knowing you are already at his mercy.

"you're serious," he rasps, eyes cutting back to yours.

"unfortunately," you grit out.

that draws another flicker of a smirk out of him. "and y'came running down here at midnight in your little nightdress because you were too scared you'd chicken out, is that it?"

that is absolutely it, and you hate that he knows it.

"will you marry me or not?" you demand, even your nose feeling hot now. "i don't know what my nightdress has to do with the question!"

"your nightdress is gonna have a lot to do with it if i say yes, angel," bakugou says.

you hate him. maybe it's better to just let the country fall to ruin, let some jumped up coalition of families amass power and overwhelm bakugou and his soldiers. with any luck maybe they will stab him.

you'll have to come up with another plan.

"fine," you hiss, turning on your heel. "message received."

but a hot hand closes on your arm before you can take another step, yanking you back to him. you stumble, barely catching yourself before bashing your nose into his chest.

"you know what you're asking for?" bakugou demands, leaning in to look into your face. "you know this wouldn't be easy."

"i know," you say begrudgingly. "but you are the country's best option—my best option. none of the men put forth are acceptable."

"don't like pretty boys, princess?" bakugou asks.

"you're plenty pretty," you bite out before you can think. horror overwhelms you when bakugou's smirk grows wider, a sharp white knife in the dark.

"think i'm pretty huh?" he says, his tone gloating.

"i think that you are awful and maybe i'd rather take my chances with a coup," you growl, trying to pry your arm from his grip.

but bakugou's hold tightens for a moment, and he leans down, close enough that his breath ghosts over the collar of your night rail.

"then if you're sure this is what you want, princess, you can have it," bakugou says. his thumb smoothes over the skin of your arm for just a moment, soft and feather light before he lets you go.

you step out of his reach, skin tingling, face flaming. there's no reason to delay, then. "fine, we're agreed. i'll see you in the morning. we'll announce it then."

you spin on your heel, bakugou's grunt of acceptance following you as turn back down the hall.

"see you in the morning, angel," he drawls, suddenly all agreement.

he may be the general between the two of you, but you know when it's time for a strategic retreat. you ignore his response and flee—your ears burning all the way to your chambers.

[turtletaubwrites]

Same Time

Thank you, anon for this delicious request! I hope you enjoy it! 🔥

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader x Zoro

Word Count: 1123

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your boyfriends are always arguing, but sometimes you're the one that wins the fight. Tonight the battle is for who gets to go first.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Arguing, Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (be safe out there), Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, Creampie, Come Eating, Hair-Pulling, Biting, Spanking (barely), Polyamory, Established Relationship, Pet Names, Shameless Smut

A/N: This request was so 🥵🥵 I hope I did it justice!

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

Your boyfriends were always competing.

Who could take down the most enemies? Who could hunt down the biggest beast for dinner?

Who could make you come the most times in one night? 

Their bickering could be cute or frustrating depending on the day, but you quickly learned that there was no way to stop them. Luckily, certain battles ended with you as the winner.

I should have brought a book with me.

“I’m first tonight, cook. You went first last time.”

“You’re too rough when you start, moss head. Our princess deserves more attention before you hammer away at her.”

You sat up a little straighter at the kitchen counter as their argument leaned closer to what you’d been looking forward to all day. 

“Nah, she loves it when I ruin that pussy, don’t you,” Zoro teased, pulling you off of your stool to press you up against the counter. “Bet you want me to take you right now, huh?”

“Let me make her come on my tongue first,” Sanji demanded, tugging at your wrist, stopping as Zoro refused to let you move. “Since you’re too lazy to care for her.”

Their feud continued on for long enough that Zoro’s arms loosened their grip, so you pulled away to walk toward the door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?”

“Where ya going?”

Rounding on them, you couldn’t help the hint of sharpness in your voice at all the time wasted. 

“I’m tired. You’ve spent so much time arguing about who gets to do what first that I’m not into it anymore.”

The guilt on both of their faces was almost cute, although Zoro looked like he was itching to stay mad. 

“So, I’m gonna go get myself off and pass out, unless you two can agree on something in the next thirty seconds.”

Your cook and your swordsman had another rapid fire argument while you tapped your wrist until they practically yelled their decision.

“Same time!”

“What?”

“Come here,” Zoro growled, as they both moved toward you, the dark looks in their eyes making you shiver. 

Finally.

There was nothing like having these two men touching your skin at once. All that annoyance was forgotten as strong hands and warm lips took control.

Sanji made you moan when his fingers twisted into your hair, cradling your head as his lips found yours. Zoro’s rough hands trailed down your back, gripping into your hips before pulling your pants off, leaving you bare. He left a gentle kiss on your ass cheek followed by a hard smack that made you yelp into Sanji’s mouth.

The blonde pulled back with that look, almost a snarl as he shot cold eyes at Zoro. He caught your glare before he spoke, and kissed your cheek as he helped you out of your shirt. 

“Bet you’re already drenched for me,” Zoro teased. You cried out his name as the silky hardness of his cock rubbed along your ass.

Sanji guided you, setting your hands along the edge as he went to his knees between you and the counter. The eye not hidden by his hair filled with a heat that parted your lips. 

“Same time,” he breathed against your thigh, not speaking to you. 

“Same time,” Zoro agreed, rubbing his tip along your folds before lining himself up behind you. 

“Oh gods,” you moaned softly as Sanji’s mouth found your clit, that tongue starting to play right as Zoro slammed into you. 

“So fucking wet,” Zoro laughed, fingers digging into your hips as he found his brutal pace.

Strangled moans and screams left your throat, and you clung to the edge of the counter as you fell apart, already so close.

The heavy thrusts of that thick cock inside you along with that wicked tongue on your clit was unreal, overwhelming, fucking incredible. 

“Gods, this pussy is fucking tight,” Zoro hissed, between sucking and biting at your neck. “Gonna fill you up so good.”

Your knees were going weak, but Zoro kept his grip, while Sanji wrapped his arms around your legs, shoving his face even closer. His tongue explored further, licking along your folds. Zoro moaned in your ear as Sanji’s tongue tasted along your entrance, as if wanting to join that thick cock in fucking you. 

Sanji left a deep hum of pleased laughter against you, the vibrations making your eyes roll back. Zoro’s thrusts staggered, his breath hot against your ear.

“You’re fucking filthy,” he growled, somehow slamming into you harder. “We’re gonna fuck so much come into you tonight, you won’t be able to walk. You want that?”

He tore a scream from your throat in answer as his movements became frantic. 

“You taste like heaven, mon coeur. Do you like my tongue on your clit?”

The loss of his tongue where you needed it brought your eyes down to his, that mischievous glee doing you in. 

“Fuck, Sanji. Please…”

“Anything for you, my love.”

Sanji wrapped his lips around that sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked, just as Zoro bit down on your neck hard. 

Your mind went fucking blank. All the sensations, all the pleasure poured through your body. Zoro groaned with your flesh still in his teeth as you milked his cock. You felt him twitching inside you, throbbing, spilling hot ropes of come, filling you up. Sanji moaned around your pulsing clit, still sucking until you were about to go insane from the overstimulation. 

Their strong hands held you up as you thrashed, your throat gone raw with screams. 

Sanji finally released your clit as Zoro slowed, making the swordsman moan again as he licked along your entrance, definitely licking that sensitive cock as it pulled out of you.

“Oh, fuck. San–”

Instead of helping you collapse, Zoro fisted his hand into your hair, holding you around the waist with his free hand while he shoved his tongue down your throat, interrupting your cries. 

Your eyes were rolling white as Sanji moved beneath you. That sinful tongue ate at you like you were a bowl of something sweet, eating up that mixture of pleasure you and Zoro had created. 

Tears streamed from your eyes, but your boys didn’t stop until Sanji had licked up every drop of come, kissing your thighs. Zoro helped you lie on the ground, your head in his lap while you watched Sanji strip. 

“So,” Zoro teased, tracing his rough fingers over the marks on your neck, “Which do you think is better?”

“Huh?”

Words were still distant, especially as Sanji leaned closer, rubbing his hands along your thighs. 

“Do you prefer to have the brutal assault, or the tender affection first, princess?”

An insatiable smile touched your lips as you moved your gaze between them. 

“Same time, please.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: What do you think? I think both is good 🥰

tags: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Jealous Baldwin IV x reader

♧ Mine Only - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon, I hope this is what you had in mind. As per your request, he is not wearing a mask in this one! I hope you like it. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figgures. Enjoy!

P.S: Sorry that it's a little short, I just thought that it wrapped up nicely as this 😊 Also this has a desctiption of y/n

TW: Leprosy

Baldwin the fourth was never an overly jealous man.

Envy was one of the most deadly sins, and he stuck by that ideology with many things. But when it came to his queen? His jealousy was nothing short of violent passion.

Nothing enraged him more than seeing other men stare at his beloved y/n as if she was some object. Whether it be knights or royal officials themselves, his feelings on the issue remained consistent.

Baldwin knew of his wife's shining, yet modest, beauty and never wanted to hide it, forcing her to cover herself with a veil like some husbands would. He allowed her beauty to be seen by the world, but that did not mean that the prying eyes of others never enraged him.

-------------------

It was a warm summer evening. The sun was low in the sky when Balian of Ibelin came to meet with the king for a second time.

Baldwin was reclined on a soft couch alongside his wife, who sat next to him with her head on his shoulder. The two were enjoying the sun set over the kingdom on the royal balcony and were not predicting company at the time, so Balian’s arrival was unexpected.

“Your majesties” he greeted in a low voice. Until this point, Balian had never been formally acquainted with the queen of Jerusalem, but he had heard through the not so subtle whispers of other knights that she was extremely beautiful.

He noticed first the absence of the king's mask. Instead, bandages covered the middle section of his face, leaving only his eyes, forehead and mouth exposed. This was a shock to him, his appearance was nowhere near as awful as he had expected. He had also not expected the absence of the king's veil to reveal blonde curls that framed his face nicely. For a moment he caught himself wondering about what he would look like without the disease. When his eyes shifted from the king to the young queen, he was taken aback greatly.

He had heard the rumors but they did her no justice. She was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. She had long wavy dark hair, smooth caramel tan skin, and wore white robes that constrasted against her hair. He couldn't help but let his eyes linger on her a little longer than they probably should have.

Balian was brought back to reality by Baldwin clearing his throat in a passive way. “What brings you here at this time Balian?” the king asked, a hint of malice in his usally calm voice.

“Oh, um. I was hoping to seek your advice on a few things” he stumbled over his words before glancing over at y/n then back to the king. An obvious scowl formed on Baldwin’s face, “very well”. He replied coldly, no longer attempting to hide the malice in his voice.

He kissed his wife on the cheek gently before standing to follow Bailan inside. Once her husband was out of sight, y/n sat back and grinned. She adored it when he was jealous.

Bailan’s gaze was just the same as every other man that looked at her, minus the poor attempt at a seductive smirk, like most knights tried. Unlike theirs, Baldwin’s gaze was one of love and adoration. Nothing in the world compared to the way he looked at her.

She wished that he knew how deeply she felt about this but no matter how many times she told him that no man could make her feel as special as he did, he still felt anger rise in his chest whenever another man even so much as glanced in her direction. He just couldn't help it. And she loved it. It made her feel protected.

She already felt protected around Baldwin, but just knowing that he was willing to stand against another for so much as looking at her, despite his declining health, made her happy.

Y/n took a sip of her wine and sighed contently, staring into the distance. It was not long before the king returned.

The expression of contempt on his face melted away as soon as he saw her. She chuckled as he sat down. “Someones jealous,” she taunted, running a hand through his hair. Baldwin smiled at her remark. “Yes yes, I know. I just don’t appreciate prying eyes on my beautiful queen” he put his head back and stared lovingly into her eyes. 

Y/n continued to stroke her husband's hair as he told her what he and Bailan had discussed inside.

“Did you tell him off for looking at me?” y/n chuckled, half joking. “In fact I did,” Baldwin replied with a smirk. The young queen grinned and rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You do not have to do such things my love, my heart is yours and nobody else's” she poked his chest with her index finger.

“I know, I just want to make sure others know that also” he said, taking her hand in his. “All I said was that ‘I don't appreciate people looking at my wife like she is something to be touched’ that is all my love. I did not hurt the man”.

Y/n shook her head with a smile. “Lets just say, I would not be opposed to you doing so” she smirked slightly, putting her head up just enough to look at him.

Baldwin raised his eyebrows at that. “Well I can assure you that if it was not for my health, I would do so” he said softly. “That is all I need to know” y/n kissed his cheek as she said that, returning to her original position, resting against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist and placed his head ontop of hers.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Running so fast to your inbox!!!!!!

Smut list 2, number 28

And him!

Salivating!!!!!

Daddy's Sweetheart

PAIRING || Husband!Lloyd Hansen x Bimbo!Wife!Fem!Reader x Mobster!Steve Rogers

WORDCOUNT || ~ 700 words

SUMMARY || You've been married to one of the most feared men in the entirety of the United States. As soon as he met you - his kind, soft-spoken wife - he knew he had to have you, and when you allowed him to use you whenever he pleased, he couldn't be happier.

RATING || Mature (M)

TAGS || Established relationship. Bimbo!Reader. Soft!Lloyd.

SMUT || Daddy kink. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Dirty talk. Referenced unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. Jen, as soon as I saw you requesting Lloyd, I immediately got excited! This is my first time writing about him, so I hope I have done him justice - I also can't wait to write more for him in the future! This isn't proofread; any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍

EVENTS @anyfandomaubingo || Mobster!Steve Rogers @lloydssluts LHWC '24 || "You know what I love about you?"

Photo: Source || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Lloyd Hansen || Summer of Drabbles

"You know what I will never understand, Hansen? You have such a pretty thing walking around here, clad in dresses that barely cover anything, yet you're still one of the grumpiest men I've ever known. Maybe you just need to fuck her real good for once, and you're suddenly a whole new man."

Lloyd listens to the man across from him - the famous mobster Steve Rogers, right-hand man to mob boss James "Bucky" Banes - with a relaxed expression, not in the least fazed about how he talked about you—his wife.

"Is that so?" Lloyd asks nonchalantly, swishing the glass of whiskey back and forth a few times before making eye contact with the blond mobster.

"Well, why don't I do that right now while you watch? Let's see if my mood changes after I fuck her brains out until she can't think of anything else than me until she's begging me to stop after I've pumped her so full of my cum it'll be dripping down her thighs for days."

Lloyd's demeanor hasn't changed at all as the words leave his lips, while Steve is certainly interested. With one push of a button, Lloyd summons you to the office - a place you usually only visit when he needs to let out some steam by fucking you until you're nothing but a limp mess in his arms. Within less than a minute, you knock on the heavy wooden doors, a flurry of butterflies going wild in your stomach at your husband's voice.

"There she is! Can you come here for a moment, Sweetheart?" Lloyd says, love clear in his voice. Steve's face contorts at the apparent difference in behavior - he's not used to seeing the soft side of the man across from him. The warmth on your cheeks spreads as you walk into the office, your short, pink sundress fluttering around your hips as you walk in, giving a smile to Steve as you do.

"Hi, Mr. Rogers," you say in a soft tone before bending down to give your husband a gentle kiss on his lips. As you do, you're giving Steve a look at everything beneath your dress and the fact you're usually pantyless when your husband is home.

"C'mere, Sweetheart. Daddy needs you to do something for him, but only if you're a good girl for me, okay? Mr. Rogers has been saying some not-so-nice things about us, and I want to prove him wrong by fucking you right here on my desk. How does that sound?"

"Really?" you say softly, a small pout on your lips as you look at Lloyd, but he squeezes your hip reassuringly. It's okay. Once you give the go-ahead - your husband would never do anything without your consent, after all - he gets up, pushing you with your thighs against the desk, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you feel his erection pressing into the soft flesh of your stomach.

"You know what I love about you?" Lloyd asks, his soft gaze still focused on your curious one as his fingers glide over the skin of your cheek.

"That you're such an easy little girl, letting Daddy do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. No matter who's watching," the grumble of Lloyd's voice sends a shiver down your spine, only turning you on more as you squeeze your thighs together.

''Yes, Daddy, only for you," you whisper as you crane your neck to make eye contact, making Lloyd smile before he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, dominating kiss that has you melting in your spot as he does. Without pulling away, he helps you up on the desk as he steps between your legs, his erection now pressing against your bare pussy.

Steve's shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat as he tries to adjust himself at the sight in front of him, as he sees how willing you are for your husband.

"Let's give Mr. Rogers a show he'll never forget, okay?" Lloyd asks, and you nod as you shift to lie on your back, your head hanging off the other side of the desk, facing Steve. Lloyd quickly frees his achingly hard cock, smirking as he sees your hole clenching around nothing.

The first moment his tip lines up with your dripping hole, a soft whine leaves your lips, the moment feeling even more intense as you make direct eye contact with Steve. However, the next words out of Steve's mouth have you clenching too as a soft moan escapes your lips, while Lloyd grins.

"Take it like a good girl, and stop whining."

[mcflymemes]

BARBIE (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!

i've never seen this kind of malfunction.

am i being too technical?

if you ask me, you're responsible for this, too.

to be honest, when i found out the patriarchy wasn't just about horses, i lost interest.

i just gave you a choice so you could feel like you're in control!

how will i get back?

this happened once before.

i just don't want to leave!

you'll be such a hero to them!

i feel appreciated but not ogled.

i hate it when people think. i'm so bored.

the faster i figure this out, the faster we get home.

i'm not pretty anymore!

humans have only one ending. ideas live forever.

you're so beautiful.

how come you're so amazing!

i worked very hard, so... i deserve it!

you're the voice of a generation.

this makes me emotional, and i'm expressing it.

i got us both ice creams!

i think you have that the wrong way around.

how much of that did you see?

let's get you up on your feet.

you should heal up in no time.

this night is just perfect!

please call my mother.

i thought i might stay over tonight.

does the label "long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend" mean nothing to her?

i'm great at doing stuff.

it is literally impossible to be a woman.

we always have to be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.

never forget that the system is rigged.

find a way to acknowledge that, but also always be grateful.

it's too hard!

i'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself in knots so that people will like us.

i was arrested for tax evasion.

i smell like basement.

what are you doing here?

did you bring your rollerblades?

i literally go nowhere without them!

do you guys ever think about dying?

i'll play the guitar at you.

yeah, i'm... confused about that.

it's like i've been in a dream where i was really invested in the zack snyder cut of "justice league."

can i talk to a doctor?

i need a clicky pen.

somebody get security.

i've never seen the godfather.

every night is a boy's night.

i just don't know who i am without you.

i only exist within the warmth of your gaze.

i'm just a little blond guy who can't do flips.

you guys aren't doing patriarchy very well.

men hate women and women hate women. it's the one thing we can all agree on.

you don't have your license.

you can be brainwashed, or you can be ugly. there's nothing in between.

she's not dying, she's just having an existential crisis.

i'm sensing some kind of ententre here... and it appears to be double.

who am i to burst their bubble?

you use your imagination!

you can ask me any question you want.

[fairy-writes]

Would it be too much to ask for a William James Moriarty x Holmes sister reader? Like she's a travelling archaeologist/anthropologist who's a genius in the field and has found many artifacts and lost cities and can be a bit of an eccentric looney like her older brother Sherly but she's also incredibly kind to those in need and often donates her treasures to the less fortunate and even helps Sherly from time to time which is how he meets her and is impressed by her smarts and sarcastic wits. Also, a bit of a parkour junky likes to wear mens clothes tailored for her measurements and often wears her hair in loose buns or ponytails and loves riding horseback much to Mycroft's displeasure🤭

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Mildly sexist behavior from Mycroft? It is the 1800s after all.

Notes: So this was super fun to write! 

Fun fact! I took an archaeology class for my associate’s degree in criminal justice and highly recommend taking one to anyone in college! 

I actually took several anthropology classes (intro to anthro, bio anthro, and archaeology). I even considered switching my major to anthropology at some point! (I switched it to English lol)

PART TWO HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

Otis whinnies, and you reach forward from your place in the saddle to pat his neck.

“Easy, Otie, almost there.” You whisper to him and gently nudge him to turn down the familiar road of Baker Street. You could spot your brother’s flat from where you were at, an unfamiliar carriage parked in front. You frown briefly and then shrug. Sherlock could have whoever he liked over. 

But… he did promise to take you out on the town in celebration of your latest discovery. Did he forget?

No… He wasn’t the type to forget something like that. You had been exchanging letters for weeks about your coming home. 

A tall man was at the front of the carriage, tending to the horses. He had spiked black hair and a glove on one hand. He looks at you with skeptical eyes as you draw near and dismount your horse. The Cleveland Bay snorts, ruffling your hair as you smooth your hand up his snout and between his eyes. Then, you promptly tied his reins to the post outside 221B Baker Street and went up to the front door. 

The door knocker was more worn than you last remembered, with the shiny brass turning a glimmering gold color from all the hands touching it. You rap the door once, twice, then a third time, and wait, stuffing your hands in your trouser pockets. 

A young man opens the door, sandy blond hair combed neatly and brown eyes alight with curiosity. A grin breaks your face, and you step forward into his arms as he realizes just who is at the door.

“My dear John!” You shriek, and he chuckles, lifting you off your feet and spinning once in a circle before setting you down. 

“I thought you weren’t due back for another two weeks!” He replies excitedly, and you laugh gleefully. 

“We finished early! Anyhow, how’s Mary? Sherlock said you two were expecting!” You say and slap his shoulder good-naturedly. He ducks his head, a pink flush on his cheeks as he nods.

“She’s home at the mo. But yes, we’re expecting. The midwife thinks it’ll be a girl based on how she’s carrying.” He said, and before you could say any more, there was a noise at the top of the stairs. 

You turn, and your grin widens even more until your cheeks hurt. 

“Sherly!” You crow, and he bounds down the stairs to sweep you up in a bear hug. His boisterous laugh made your heart sing, and you buried your nose in his hair. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey. He must have been on a case. He squeezes you tight and sets you down. 

“I thought you were coming back in two weeks!” He exclaims, and you roll your eyes,

“So John said, I told you we finished early!” You tease, and it is then that you notice that there is someone else in the flat. 

He was tall, probably around your brother’s height. He had blond hair and deep scarlet eyes that studied you with interest. He was dressed in a brown suit with a crimson tie. A lord. That much is obvious.

Sherlock notices that you notice his friend and gestures to the man at the top of the stairs. 

“This is Liam! A mathematics professor at Durham University and a friend of mine who helps me on my cases.” He says proudly as “Liam” descends the stairs and approaches you. 

You stick out a hand and introduce yourself. His hand is smooth like you expected, as opposed to your calloused one. You had bandages littering your fingertips from blisters from shovels and tools. 

“William James Moriarty. I’ve heard stories about you.” His British lilt is proper and endearing. You feel your heart flutter and your ears burn. But you smile warmly nonetheless and give his hand a firm shake.

“As much as I’d like to say the same, Sherly has yet to tell me about you in his letters.” You direct the last sentence to your older brother in the same teasing tone as before. 

Sherlock rolls his eyes and punches your shoulder lightly while William watches on in amusement. 

“I got distracted!” Sherlock complains, and you break out into giggles. 

“I would love to hear some stories if you’re up to it.” William cut in gently before you, and Sherlock could start bickering. You brighten. A chance to tell stories of your work and not have someone get bored? It sounded like heaven!

That was how you got to where you were at the current moment. 

You were seated next to Sherlock at the Moriarty dining table, regaling them with a story of the most current dig you had been on.

“—and Egypt was absolutely smashing! It was so beautiful!” You say, waving your hands excitedly as you describe the tomb that had been uncovered. It had taken weeks to uncover everything, almost months. But oh so worth it. 

“Might I ask what you did with all the artifacts you found?” William inquires, and you hum as you sip at your wine. 

“Donated it all back to the locals. It’s the least I can do. Plenty of archaeologists steal their finds and bring them back to England to show in museums. I try and do the opposite.” You say and were pleased to see William nod in approval. 

At least someone shared your sentiment. 

You got a letter to your very old and very dusty flat a week after your return to England, summoning you to your eldest brother’s estate. You had been dusting and cleaning your furniture when the postman knocked on your door. You frown, brushing your pants on the seat of your trousers, and answer the door. 

The letter was short. 

Dearest sister, 

I have received news of your return to Egypt. I would like to have your company at the family estate for dinner to discuss business and your adventures. 

With best regards, 

Mycroft Holmes

A summons to the Holmes family estate that your oldest brother had inherited after your parents retired to the country. You look at the ceiling and groan, eliciting a funny look from the postman. 

This was going to be fun.

As soon as Otis realizes where you are, he tosses his head and tries to turn around. You tug the reins so he faces the right direction and nudge him into a walk down the road.

“Otie, I don’t want to do this either. But I’d rather not have Mikey send special forces after us or something.” You say to Otis, and when you reach the stables, Mycroft’s hired stable hand takes your beloved horse’s reins. “Take good care of him!” You nearly reprimand the stable hand who agrees and welcomes you back with ease. 

The maids welcome you in excitedly when you rap on the massive double doors, and you are ushered upstairs into the dining room. 

Mycroft was seated at the head of the table, where your father would be if he were here, and he stood to greet you. He offers a handshake, but you simply smile warmly and hug him tightly. He may have grated on your nerves, but he was still your brother. Mycroft stiffens and pats your shoulders awkwardly when you step back.

“As awkward as always, I see Mikey.” You said and took a seat at the table next to him like you did when you were kids. He clears his throat and calls for the kitchen staff to bring in the food. 

It wasn’t much, considering there were only two of you. But it was as extravagant as Mycroft always demanded it to be. 

“Would you like to change into dinner attire before we eat, sister dearest?” Mycroft says suddenly, just as you are about to dig into the delicious roast prepared by the staff of the household. You put your fork down and scowl.

“Don’t start with this, Mikey. You know I hate dresses.” You snap, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the issue. 

At least… he doesn’t until you are done with your meal and in his study, talking about your travels to Egypt. 

You down the rest of your whiskey and set the glass whiskey tumbler on the table between you two. 

“More whiskey?” He offers, and you shake your head.

“I want to be able to ride home after this.” You say and hold in a yawn. The excellent food combined with the fireplace blazing with a crackling fire is lulling you to sleep. 

Suddenly, Mycroft stands and walks in front of the fire, setting his own glass down on the mantle and turning to face you. 

“Might we talk some business?” He inquires, and immediately, your mood sours. 

So this was his end goal? Get you sleepy and drunk so you couldn’t ride home and were subject to his pleadings?

“I don’t want to hear it, Mikey.” You say and stand, holding onto the back of the wingback chair for a moment as the dizziness sets in. 

He scowls, 

“You are of perfect age. The season is just starting. You could still join in and find a potential suitor!” He tries, and you scrub at your face.

“I already told you I wasn’t interested in courting! I’m interested in—”

“Your work, I know. But what happens when the digs dry up and there’s nothing else for you to do? What will you do when you get too old for this?!” He snaps, and you whirl, steadying yourself with the chair as your anger flares. 

“It won’t dry up! There are thousands of years of history still to be discovered! Hundreds of thousands of cities and archaeological finds!” Your voice rises to a shout, and you hear distant footsteps as maids scurry away from you and your brother’s anger. 

This goes on for several minutes until Mycroft a bomb on you. 

“Mother and Father have decided. If you don’t find someone to court, they will no longer fund your excavations, and you’ll be stuck here with me.” 

You freeze, hands wound tightly in your hair, and argument dying on your tongue. 

“B—But that would mean—” Mycroft cuts you off gently and approaches, putting his hands on your shoulders. 

“You’d be stuck here until you find a husband—no more digs. No more artifacts. Not until you do as they and I ask.” Tears well up in your eyes, and you shrug off his hands violently and flee. 

Your boots pound against the hardwood floors, and you run outside where it has started pouring rain. Instantly, your clothes are soaked as you make it to the stables, dress Otis in his saddle and bridle, and swiftly mount his back. He tears out of the stables at a thundering gallop, and the stable hand barely dives out of the way to save himself from being trampled. 

Otis’s hooves dash against the cobblestone roads. You cling to his reins and hunch over his back as tears stream down your face and sobs wrack your body. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Taking away your funding? 

No one wanted to fund a woman on an archaeological dig! 

Much less one as young as yourself! 

You were screwed! Doomed to live as a housewife because that was society’s and your parent’s expectations of you!

Otis eventually comes to a halt, and you dismount, collapsing onto a bench, breathing hard as rain pours down your body. Your shirt sticks to your skin, and your trousers swim in water as you sit in a puddle on the bench. But you can’t bring it in you to care. 

A carriage rumbles to a stop before you, and you look up as the door opens. 

“Might I interest you in some shelter?” Comes a proper and endearing accent that you recognize. 

“William?” You sniffle, and he smiles, extending a hand. 

“If you’ll let him, Fred will handle your horse. How about you step inside the carriage, and we’ll take you back to the Moriarty estate.” He says over the rain. A young man with a blue scarf wrapped around his head gets off the front of the carriage and approaches. You hiccup and nod, handing Otis’s reins to the young man and accepting William’s hand into the carriage. He sheds his overcoat and offers it. 

It’s warm and heavy as you wrap it around your shoulders and sit down. Your boots squelch against the floor, and William knocks twice against the carriage's wall, and it starts moving once again. 

The Morairty estate is even grander than you remember, looming over you as the carriage stops by the front doors. You nearly slip in your haste to get inside and are taken up the stairs to one of the many bedrooms. 

“Draw a bath and get warm. I’ll have some clothes brought by. We can have a talk after you’ve collected yourself.” William says gently, and you nod, taking off his overcoat so he can have it back. He excuses himself, and you are left alone in the suite. 

The bath is nice and hot, and you let out a sigh as you shed your clothes into a pile on the floor and sink into the warm water. Your tears are drying, but your emotions are still raging like a rabid dog inside you.

How could they? 

Didn’t your family know archaeology was your passion? Your dream?! Of course, they did! You never shut up about it when you were but a little girl learning to play the piano! You babbled on and on about fossils and artifacts in between lessons until you were blue in the face!

It wasn’t long until you were done in the bath and dried off. As William had promised, some clothes were left on the bed. A button-down that looked like it might fit you, a pair of trousers that might be a bit too long, and a pair of undergarments. You tugged on the underwear and then the trousers, having to cuff them at the bottom so you didn’t trip. The shirt fit better than you thought so you pinned your hair out of your face and left the bedroom and down the hall. Hadn’t there been a sitting room just down the stairs? 

William was inside, stoking a fire with a poker, his back to you. He stood and turned when you rapped lightly on the entryway. His lips curled in a welcoming smile, and he gestured for you to take a seat. 

“Would you like some tea? I had Louis put the kettle on.” He said, and you nodded, sitting on the couch beside the fire.

“Thank you. For the clothes and… everything else.” You mumble, and he shakes his head,

“Don’t mention it. Sherlock mentioned you hated dresses.” He says and pours you a cup of tea.

It’s delicious. It warms you from the tips of your ears to the ends of your bare toes. You scuff them on the plush carpet as William sits across from you. His scarlet eyes are illuminated like glittering rubies in the oranges and yellows of the fire. They’re alive like a torch resides inside. 

“Now, might I ask why you were out in the rain?” William asks as soon as you’ve settled into your spot. You bite your lip and wonder if you can trust him with your problems. 

Sherlock trusted him well enough… 

Perhaps…

“I got into an argument with Mycroft. He said my parents will cut off my funding for excavations if I don’t find a proper husband.” You blurt, and he hums as he takes a sip from his cup. 

“I assume they’ve been funding your past archaeological escapades?” He says, and you nod.

“Correct. But that is going to change unless I get married.” You grumble, and he cocks his head to the side, setting his cup down on the tea table next to him and seemingly mulling something over. 

“This may be a bit forward, but I have a proposal. A business proposal, if you will.” He starts, and you narrow your eyes. A business proposal? You set your own cup down and cross one leg over the other. 

“Go on…” You say hesitantly, and he clasps his hands together as if working out a problem in his head. Sherlock did say he was a mathematics professor.

“I could marry you.” You inhale sharply and proceed to choke on your saliva. William half gets out of his chair to come to your aid when you finally get your coughing under control. 

“Why?!” You demand, and he shrugs, 

“I’ve done some research into you. You are spearheading the way in new archaeological techniques. You donate your finds back to the locals in need. And frankly, I find you fascinating. If we go ahead with this, you’ll have access to my brother Albert’s influence as well as the Moriarty name and fortune.” He says, and you sit back, stunned. 

“I could continue my work?” You say skeptically, and he nods. 

“Indeed. There’s no reason to stop you. I might ask for a lecture or two from you at Durham University. But that’s it. So…” He extends a hand for you to shake. “Have we reached an accord?”

You are speechless as possibilities run rampant through your brain. You’d be free from your parent’s influence as well as pleasing them. Though pleasing them was the last thing on your mind. Yes, you’d be married. But like William said… it was more of a business proposal…

You reach forward and shake his hand. His smile widens marginally as you speak,

“I accept your proposal.”

[ennawrite]

he’s the reason why we need more blonde mmc’s.

[15-lizards]

Do you guys think that as time passes Robb’s story gets turned into a folk tale…a cautionary story for children…a story rooted in truth but the real details are lost. A boy king marches south looking for justice for his good father but gets betrayed by the people he trusted too much…he gets turned into a beast, half boy and half wolf, forgetting who he is and living among the forest. The riverlanders say that you can hear the wolf king howl when you’ve been lied to, and that he scavenges the woods, pouncing on liars and betrayers. And his mother, so mad with grief, stalks riverbanks at nights, her face torn to bloody ribbons, attacking similar victims, but preferring the ones with blonde hair. Little children hear scary tales of Lady Stoneheart and the Wolf King and are too frightened to ever tell a lie. Men sit in taverns, singing sad drinking songs about a mother and child draped in tragedy. Girls sit about with their needlework, sighing at the true love the Wolf King died for, his fair queen who he put above all others, even himself. Robb Stark is betrayed, and this is true. But time twists the truth. Truth fades into story fades into legend. And he is forgotten, nothing more than a symbol in an old tale.

[romanvaloakadrbenz]

Alright guys, Joost posted these like 40 minutes ago on his IG with the caption "Are you trusting the process yet?". And the answer is yes sir, we are patiently trusting the process of your creative imagination. This album is going to go so hard and I can't wait (I sadly have to 😭💙)

[oopsdevil]

COD + AUs

which alternative universe they would fit in (f!reader)

SIMON GHOST RILEY + APOCALYPSE!AU

(full fic here)

in another lifetime, the worldwide zombie apocalypse saved simon's life. with no one to fight for, simon felt like himself for the first time. a world where hiding his face is the last of everyone else's worries, a world where he gets to be violent for a good reason against those flesh eating things, a world where he gets to live without needing anyone. that until he met you. if anyone told him he would end up surviving the streets of manchester with a girl half his height and a backpack bigger than her, whose first words to him where "what's with the skull?", he would have laughed. but here he is, watching you go crazy at an old, dark clothing store, forgetting for a second that the world around you is dying. simon didn't care before, but now reminds himself the reason he wants to keep going, is you.

SIMON GHOST RILEY + TATTOO ARTIST!AU

in another lifetime, simon gets to combine his favorite things and make a living out of it; pain, art and ink. gotta admit, it was intimidating meeting him for the first time. 6'2, quiet, blonde, heavy accent, covered in tattoos and attached to his black surgical mask. surprisingly, he is a very patient tattoo artist. the fact that he understands the significance behind your tattoo, or that you need breaks, or that he offers you water many times, makes you go back to him for more ink. you remember the first time he took his mask off, with a couple scars around his face and a killing smirk, simon asked you out on the best date he could think of; hanging around his station while he tattoos strangers. or how you call it now, years after that first date, saturday afternoon.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + COLLEGE!AU

in another lifetime, kyle persuaded his talent in history knowledge. top of his class and with intact kindness (even after meeting very pretentious and competitive classmates), kyle offers his help to the girl in the library who doesn't seem to understand what the hell her book's about. you both knew, the second you locked eyes. not gonna lie, he makes your college experience better just by existing. yes, you stay up all night studying and fail to answer his calls. but he knows you, and he is outside your dorm at 3 a.m with the best pizza on campus. and yes, he will wait outside class when you take your final exam. and yes, he always knew he wanted to marry you, but waits until you get your degree to propose.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + PRIVATE DETECTIVE!AU

in another lifetime, the sense of justice got to kyle in a cold, cheap apartment in the city, and working at night. he got really confused when a girl with kind eyes like yours approached him for his services. used to working with cheating men and sketchy women, kyle begged for you to drop whatever weird problem your boss got himself into, is really not you business, but he respects your contribution to the employees your boss is basically robbing. he really didn't expect to get so attached to a case, even less to a client. but there you are, sleeping on his bed after many nights protecting you, after you didn't drop it. you couldn't, and it made him fall in love with you even harder. he felt his heart go soft and his stiff shoulders drop when you grabbed his arm in your sleep. kyle always protected himself, but after finding you, he has new priorities. he also never considered himself impulsive, but look at him now, living in a new warm city with his lifesavings in a backpack and your hand in his.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + SOULMATES!AU

in another lifetime, johnny checks the mark in everybody's wrist, hoping one will match his. his is rather particular, and earned his nickname since childhood, a small but obvious mark shaped as a soap. turning 30 (and hiding it with humor) soaps heart breaks a little more when he realizes he hasn't shared the first thirty years of his life with his soulmate, the one who at this point, john doubts even exists. he takes a walk around the streets of glasgow to clear his head, and walks into a coffee shop. he reaches for his cup in the multitude, and hears from the barista something he heard his entire life "your mark looks like a soap! how funny". his stomach dropped when a girl next to him goes "yeah, i know". it took him a second, but he looked. and yeah, he burned his hand with his coffee when he introduced himself, and got embarrassed when the entire staff realized a couple of soulmates met at their shop, but johnny's coffee never tasted better knowing that was his last birthday alone.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + BOXER!AU

in another lifetime, a cocky boxer winked your way in the middle of his fight, and your face got red like the blood in his gloves. your friends warned you, what can an amateur boxer with a mohawk offer to you? surprisingly, a lot. when he's with you, he isn't the soap mactavish, just johnny. johnny, who looks handsome even with a black eye when he asks you out for breakfast. johnny, who is bulking and eats like an animal on your first date, but god, he is so charming. your johnny, who runs every morning and comes back with a hot coffee for you, and accepts the fact that sometimes you can't watch his fights. johnny, who thought fighting was all he was good for, but gained so much peace when he met you. with ups and downs, he is convinced that having a reason to fight for is the reason he won the championship.

KÖNIG + BODYGUARD!AU

in another lifetime, you yelped when you woke up to a 6'4 man in your kitchen, wearing a suit and a intimidating black hood. he is not surprised by the reaction. being the bodyguard for a girl who saw too much is not his ideal job, but you became so much more. so brave and witty. he is obsessed with the way you aren't scared of him in the slightest. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but it became his whole life. no longer a job, but his reason. the nicknames that slipped out when the situation became to much for you, and the time he saw a suspicious face and had a hand on your hip the rest of the night. but you falling asleep in his shoulder after a storm was it for him, he had to tell you he loved you. but könig's heart breaks when his contract is over and you are officially safe. after a long, heavy fight about your "relationship", könig confesses he can't sleep now that he is not around you, that he needs to make sure you are safe, forever. and fuck, the kiss he gave you. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but met the other half his cold heart never knew he needed.

KÖNIG + GROUP THERAPY!AU

in another lifetime, könig healed in so many ways. its hard to take this much time off work at mid thirties for any human, but imagine for a soldier. the only condition favor his superior asked was "please, go to therapy". very skeptical, könig tried a place where the attention wasn't always on him, group therapy. talking isn't his favorite, but he met amazing people, and yeah, he wasn't in the best place to meet the love of his life, but how can you not look at that beautiful girl who picks up her marine dad from therapy? after very hard months talking about things he swore to never think about again, you were there for him the entire time. könig healed in so many ways. könig cried for the first time in decades when he left you, thinking he is too broken for you. könig asked for forgiveness for the first time in decades when he got you back. könig giggled for the first time in decades when your dad caught you two making out in your porch (and boy, did your dad make him run home). könig went back to his job about a year later, and became the best soldier he ever was. the talk of the base is now how the colonel keeps recommending therapy to everyone.

JOHN PRICE + LAWYER FIRM!AU

in another lifetime, john price is a fucking asshole. or so everyone thinks. you have never felt this nervous about a job interview, and by that cold look mr. price gave you, you were sure he would hire another secretary. but maybe his eyes are just like that, because why else would you be taking the bus at 7 a.m in these clothes? you hear it all over the building, mr. price can be difficult, serious, boring. but they never danced to head over heels by tears for tears in his office while barefoot. they never ate chinese food totally sleep deprived while going over a case over and over. john never grabbed their hand while walking the busy streets of london in that suit he looks way too good in. john's reputation really changed through the years. "he went soft when he met his sweetheart at work". he laughs, no one who ever saw him in a courtroom would call him soft.

JOHN PRICE + ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU

in another lifetime... john is difficult. you get it. he is an important man, a business man. a man who has no time to meet women, specially a wife. everything in his life is a transaction, including his business partner's sister. you two got married at a small ceremony and he didn't even kiss you. it took him 5 months to sleep in the same bed as you, and thats when it all started. that night john made sure you knew he didn't hate you, he was trying to give you space. but you don't want space, you want to peel all those layers and really get to know him. now you know why he is the big man, one of a kind. who knew a man so brilliant and cold could be so... him. john. protective, faithful, touch-starved, sweet-tooth, the smiths enthusiast, twin girls dad, belly laugher john.

[wingedhallows]

women shouldn't curse; sirius black

pairing: marauders (sirius black; platonic - flirty) x reader | 1k words prompt: "women shouldn't curse" "get fucked" authors note: hi, i hope u like this :)

navigation

The smoke filled your lungs, a satisfied sigh sounded from your lips. James extended his hand and demanded the bottle in your hand without a word.

You gave it to him and leant your back on the railing of the balcony. The night air caressed your cheek, a shiver made its way down your spine.

“Who was the red head you buttered up earlier?” James asked, Sirius had to chuckle. It was no secret that the young Gryffindor was adored by many, men or women.

He didn’t take up on many offers though. Sirius blew some smoke from his own cigarette and gave James a smirk. “Morrigan.” He answered. Remus had to roll his eyes, taking another sip from his drink.

“She’s been at it since last year.” Remus added, leaning back against the wall.

Lily made her way to the four of you, Marlene right behind her. You held your pack of cigarettes for the blonde girl, who took one with a small smile on her lips.

“You got another one?” She asked, her hands fumbling with Sirius’ lighter. You hummed, of course she would take notice of your newest tattoo.

“Sirius made it.” You answered. “I tatted him as well.” Marlene chuckled and took a closer look.

“God, if I had the guts to be like you.” She spoke with a smirk on her lips.

Sirius and you were very much alike, long hair, piercings, tattoos and the nonchalant demeanor. James liked to label the two of you as long lost twins. 

James, Remus and Sirius were immersed in a conversation about their next big prank, Lily and Marlene had a lot to say about their plans for the summer break, occasionally asking you questions about potential places you could visit, places to check out and what else you should be doing while you all were still so young.

You didn’t pay much attention, the day was long and your social battery was slowly but surely running out. 

“Hi there.” A boy who had placed himself next to you with a beer in hand caught your attention.

He was short, about the same height as Peter. His red hair covered his eyebrows and slightly brushed over his eyes, his teeth sat crooked in his mouth and his stained Beatles shirt didn’t do him much justice either.

“Hello.” You answered, desperate to have this conversation end right now. He didn’t think the same apparently, because he kept talking.

“It’s rare to see Slytherins attend Gryffindor parties, let alone a dashing one as you.” The compliment was fine, it wasn’t something to sweep you off your feet but it was okay. You weren’t smitten though, not even in the slightest.

“I’ve seen you around the common room the past few years and thought to myself that I’d like to take my chance with you.” Your eyebrows lifted the tiniest bit as you registered another failed attempt of flirting.

You didn’t look at him, you were turned to your friends, a clear sign for a normal person but apparently not for this guy.

“My name is Barnaby, I’m a year under you.” He said, his hand suddenly on your elbow. You let your arm fall and decided to end this as fast as possible. This was getting ridiculous.

“Listen Barnaby, I’m not really-”Hello there, who’s that?” Sirius was by your side, his hand swiftly taking his lighter out of your hand to light his next cigarette.

“Hi, my name’s Barnaby.” He tried, his eyes glowing with hatred. He didn’t like Sirius butting in on his god awful attempt of flirting with you, you thanked Sirius internally.

“We were actually talking-”Remus wants to know when the deadline for herbology is.” Sirius interrupted the tosspot. You smirked at Sirius who brushed his hand through his dark locks, his piercings glistening in the dim light.

“The fucking project’s not due till friday.” You answered, blowing some smoke for good measure. Barnaby decided to butt in again.

“Women shouldn’t curse.”

He said, loud and clear. You blinked once, twice. Sirius eyebrows raised as he looked the slime ball up and down.

“What?” Sirius asked, as his eyes narrowed and he took another drag from his cigarette.

“Women shouldn’t use such crass language, it’s unbecoming.” He tried with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sirius took a step forward, to which Barnaby took a step back, immediately intimidated.

“What a bullshit statement is that?” The tosspot took a swig from his beer and looked at you once more before he spoke.

“It’s unbecoming, it’s a shame to hear such language from a woman this pretty.” Sirius was furious by now, his jaw tightened and eyebrows raised in a daring manner.

“You know what’s unbecoming? A bloody idiot like you, looking like this, thinking you could even have a chance with a woman like Y/N. Wake up dude, not a single woman on this planet would dare lay a finger on a cunt like you.”

Barnaby was baffled, his mouth slightly open. You sprung into action and put your hand on Sirius’ shoulder. He took a step back and gave you a curt nod.

“Barnaby, dearest, I don’t think that you should ever speak your opinions on what women should or shouldn’t say. It’s unbecoming to be hit on by a boy who looks like he hasn’t showered once in his lifetime. I’m honestly insulted that you think this could’ve worked, like please get out of my face.”

You turned around, ready to leave this idiot behind with Sirius in hand.Before he walked away, you turned around again. Sirius' hand was warm in yours as you once again faced the bloody git.

“Ah, one more thing. Get fucked.”

Barnaby turned around and left you both behind with fast steps. Sirius squeezed your hand with a chuckle.

“Well done, dove. I’m proud.”

You had to chuckle as you threw your long done cigarette off the balcony.

[slvt4conniee]

Put Your Hand Around My Throat, Please. • Aot

characters: armin, mikasa, hange, eren, and levi.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Armin

you and armin are currently making out on his bed. his hand roaming up the sides of your body, getting a good feel of it.

your arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss connection you guys have. his hand slipping by your neck, made you let out a breathy moan.

you removed yourself from the kiss, placing your forehead against his. both of you breathing heavy, trying to find air to share.

“put your hand around my throat.” you said, looking at him with doe eyes.

he gulped, eyes slightly widening at the statement. “pardon?”

“put your hand around my throat, please,” you said again, sounding more desperate.

he looked at you, slowly placing his hands around your throat just like you asked. “like this?”

“squeeze it please.”

and he obeyed, adding pressure little by little making you moan. he pulled you in for another make out session, and we all know where that led up too.

Mikasa

you and mikasa were just going at it. underwear off, bras off, y’all were just ready. she kissed you, while rubbing your clit, swallowing your sounds.

she detached herself, going towards your neck, her lips nipping at your skin leaving purple marks that are hella visible. though her lips were there, your throat felt empty.

“mikasa put your hand around my throat, please,” you begged.

and her hands are already there, gripping on the sides of it making you whimper. she pulled you closer to her face, while as her fingers were going inside of your mouth and you coated it with your saliva as she went back to playing with your clit again.

she went back to kissing you, tongue overlapping with yours, as she pulled away to hear those pretty sounds you make.

“so sensitive princess.”

Hange

hange knows you so well you don’t even have to ask her to do shit for you.

you were at a party, dressed up in a silky blonde dress that stopped at your thighs and revealed the crease of your boobs.

a group of men tried talking to you, but hange was next to you. they didn’t say anything, they didn’t want to say anything. all they could do was smirk.

“what’s your number?” one of the guys asked, walking close to you forgetting that hange was next to you.

you were standing still, looking at that man dead in the face hoping hange would say something. they usually does the talking but all of a sudden they didn’t.

the men just kept asking questions that made you uncomfortable and hange, pulled you in for a nasty kiss right in-front of them.

they already knew how much you liked being choked, so you really didn’t have to say anything. they wrapped their hands around your exposed neck, kissing you even deeply. their eyes making eye contact with the men that were standing infront of you.

they let go of you. you looked away from hanges gaze. their hands still wrapped around your throat.

“her number is this pussy i fuck, dot eight eight eight.”

Eren

You were sitting on his lap having a regular make out sess like you always do when you go to his house.

the kiss was getting heated and you felt something spring up in between your legs. his colored patched pajama pants not doing him any justice.

he tried to shift you off of him but you enjoyed the feeling of his dick pressing against your cunt. you began to grind against him. his dick hitting the outside of your clothed pussy in the right spots.

“that feels so fucking good,” he groaned, his head back on the couches pillow.

he was grinding up against you, holding onto the arm of the couch. both of your mouths were slightly open, your head thrown back nothing for it to lay on.

“eren, put your hand around my throat please.” you gasped, feeling his balls rub against your entrance.

eren put his slim fingers around your throat, squeezing at a pleasant tension you like. you moaned feeling your stomach shoot up with signals you were soon to orgasm.

“you’re such a slutty bitch, you know that right?”

Levi

you and levi don’t have make out sessions often. he feels as though he’s not a good kisser and he gets embarrassed after kissing you for a while.

his lips were latched onto yours, going at a slow passionate pace. after every kiss was followed after a sound, a breath, an echo.

his was hovering over you, shirtless. while you guys were kissing, you were tracing your finger on his chest. sneakily thrusting upwards to close the space between you two.

he saw the hints and came down on you, grinding on you lightly, feeling the shape of his dick on your pussy. he broke apart the kiss, now kissing down your chest.

“levi,” you whispered. “put your hands around my throat,”

levi stopped kissing your chest, his eyes looking up towards you. his jet black hair covering his forehead wrinkles as he did so.

“absolutely not.” he said, going back to kissing your body.

“please! levi please, i need your hands around my th–“

his hands were around your throat to shut you up. his grip made your eyes roll, the feeling of his warm hand around your neck plus the tight tension did it for you.

“shut up with that begging shit. you know i hate it when you beg.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

~not proof-read~