#title prompt requests are still open!

[paimonial-rage]

simple - alhaitham

synopsis: in which kaveh says you’re normal. alhaitham disagrees

ship: alhaitham x reader

notes: mistakenly written for a title prompt before realizing it was asked for a specific character

You’re the simplest person he knows. So incredibly simple, predictable, uncomplicated—sometimes he wonders how you manage to live such a life.

Personally, Alhaitham considers his life simple as well. He wakes up at the same time everyday, completes his work easily, leaves at the usual scheduled time on the hour, makes dinner, and goes to sleep. That is his life day in and out with the occasional change. But you’re not simple the same way he is. Your life isn’t as scheduled. And yet you are still simple.

Truly and irrevocably simple.

You dislike it when he calls you such. But can you blame him? You daily nag him about eating better, and yet everyday he sees you looking guiltily with a bag of greasy food from the Grand Bazaar. You struggle to make decisions and will often ask him for help, yet when he gives you his response, you’ll always choose the opposite option of his suggestion. He finds himself having to scold you everyday for mumbling under your breath while doing paperwork.

When he mentioned his thoughts to Kaveh, the architect grumbled that his observations were not indicative of the makings of a simple person. He said that you were just normal. Every human being had habits like that. But Kaveh was wrong.

You’re not normal. You’re simple.

If you weren’t simple, why else do you have such a disturbingly loud sneeze despite being so manners obsessed? Why else do you purchase so many notebooks despite knowing you’re not going to use a single one? Why else do you lose your pricey pens at the same rate Kaveh loses mora?

You’re simple.

You’re simple to him.

And he can’t stop thinking about it.

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[astrxq]

cregan stark x wife!reader — prompt list 1.19 from my autumn party!

words: 3.1k

notes: ahhh first time writing "smut"… not sure how i did but let me know! requested

The soft morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of Winterfell's lord's chambers, casting a warm glow on the sleeping forms nestled beneath the furs. For once, the ever-vigilant Cregan Stark slumbered peacefully, his usually tense features relaxed in repose. You stirred beside him, your eyes fluttering open to take in the rare sight of your husband still abed at this hour.

A smile tugged at your lips as you remembered his return the previous evening. Cregan had been gone for nearly a fortnight, leading a hunting party deep into the Wolfswood. When he'd finally ridden through Winterfell's gates, you'd barely contained your relief and joy at seeing him safe and whole. Now, as you gazed upon his sleeping face, the worry that had gnawed at you during his absence melted away.

Cregan's arm was draped heavily across your waist, holding you close even in sleep. You shifted slightly, pressing yourself more firmly against his broad chest, relishing the warmth of his body after so many cold nights alone. As if sensing your movement, Cregan's grip tightened reflexively, drawing you even nearer.

You couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between this tender moment and the stern, unyielding man the rest of the world saw. The Lord of Winterfell, the Wolf of the North – titles that spoke of duty and strength, but revealed nothing of the gentle heart that beat beneath that gruff exterior. A heart you'd slowly come to know over the course of your marriage.

It hadn't been an easy path. When you'd first arrived at Winterfell as Cregan's bride, you'd found him distant and taciturn. The weight of his responsibilities seemed to leave little room for warmth or affection. But you were no shrinking violet, and you'd been determined to forge a true partnership with your new husband.

Memories of those early days flitted through your mind as you nestled against Cregan. The awkward silences at meals, the stilted conversations as you tried to find common ground. But there had been moments of connection too – a shared laugh over some courtly mishap, the quiet pride in his eyes when you'd handled a delicate diplomatic situation with grace.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the ice had begun to thaw between you. You'd discovered Cregan's dry wit, hidden beneath layers of Northern stoicism. He'd come to appreciate your quick mind and steady presence at his side. Trust had grown, tentative at first, then stronger with each passing moon.

And now, after moons of patience and perseverance, you found yourself here – wrapped in the arms of a man who had become more than just your lord husband. Cregan Stark had become your partner, your confidant, and yes, your love.

You nuzzled your face against his chest, inhaling deeply. The scent of pine and leather clung to him still, mingled with something uniquely Cregan that never failed to make your heart quicken. Your movement must have finally roused him, for you felt his chest rumble with a low groan as he began to stir.

"Good morrow, my lord," you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice. "The sun is high in the sky. Have the fearsome Lord of Winterfell's habits grown lax in his old age?"

Cregan's eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep. He regarded you for a long moment before a ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Watch who you're calling old, wife," he grumbled, but there was no heat in his words. His hand, calloused from years of wielding sword and bow, came up to cup your cheek. "The hunt was long, and the furs are warm. Can you blame a man for savoring a moment's peace?"

You leaned into his touch, your own hand coming to rest over his. "Never, my love. You've more than earned your rest." Your tone grew more serious as you added, "I've missed you, Cregan. These past days have been... long."

Something softened in Cregan's gaze at your words. He knew well the toll his absences took on you, just as you understood the duties that often called him away. It was a delicate balance you both strove to maintain – the needs of the North weighed against the needs of your own hearts.

"As have I, my dear," Cregan admitted, his voice rough with more than just sleep. "Each night in that cursed forest, I found myself longing for the warmth of our bed... and the even sweeter warmth of your embrace."

Such open declarations of feeling were still rare from your taciturn husband, and you treasured each one. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you surged forward, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that spoke volumes of your own longing.

Cregan responded immediately, one hand tangling in your hair as the other pulled you flush against him. The kiss deepened, months of practice allowing you to fit together perfectly. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but grin.

"I fear I've grown quite spoiled, my lord," you said, affecting a dramatic tone. "A mere fortnight without you, and I've become positively needy. Whatever shall we do about this dreadful affliction?"

A low chuckle rumbled through Cregan's chest. "Is that so?" he asked, one eyebrow quirking upwards. "And what would my lady suggest as a cure for this... neediness?"

You pretended to consider the question, tapping your chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Well, I suppose there are ways for a husband to please his wife."

"Is that an order from my lady wife?" Cregan's voice had dropped to a husky whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

"It is," you declared imperiously, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the breathless quality of your own voice. "Your lord wife demands attentio–"

Your words were cut off as Cregan's lips claimed yours once more. This kiss was deeper, hungrier, filled with all the longing of your time apart. His hands roamed your body, relearning curves and planes he knew as well as his own. You melted into his touch, your own fingers tracing the strong lines of his back and shoulders.

When you parted again, both panting slightly, you saw a familiar heat kindling in Cregan's grey eyes. "I believe," he growled, "that I have been remiss in my husbandly duties. Allow me to make amends, my lady."

Cregan's lips moved to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking every inch they could reach, his hand sneaking past the soft material of your sleep gown to explore the warmth of your skin beneath. A gasp escaped your lips as his mouth found the sensitive curve just beneath your ear, the sensation sending delightful shivers coursing through your body. You tilted your head back, allowing him more access, every gentle caress igniting a longing that had been stifled for far too long.

"Cregan," you breathed, your voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. "The day awaits us. We have responsibilities–"

His kisses trailed lower, warm and demanding, brushing against the soft fabric of your gown. "Let the day wait," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "This is our moment. I’ve missed you, and I intend to make every second count."

You couldn't suppress the way your heart raced, his touch igniting a fire within you that only he could kindle. His fingers traced shaped on your waist as he hungrily licked a pack down to your chest. 

He groaned once he made contact with the clothing that separated him from your breasts, as if annoyed by it, he moved his hands to move the straps of the gown down, revealing what he'd been waiting for for so long. The cool air of the room brushed against your skin, heightening your awareness of his every touch.

“By the gods,” he breathed, his voice laced with reverence as he gazed at you. The look in his eyes made your cheeks flush, a mix of shyness and desire. It was a rare thing to see Cregan Stark so openly captivated, and the sight fueled a boldness within you.

“Do you like what you see, my lord?” you teased, your voice low and playful, though the way your heart raced betrayed the calm you tried to project.

Cregan’s gaze darkened with a mix of hunger and admiration. “More than you can imagine,” he replied, his fingers gliding over your skin, exploring every curve with a deliberate slowness that made you ache for more.

“Cregan…” The name slipped from your lips like a prayer, and you could see the way it affected him – his breath catching, his hands freezing in place. It was a heady power to know that you had such an effect on him.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your collarbone, sending a delightful shiver racing down your spine. “Every moment without you has been torture,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin. “I swore to myself that I wouldn’t return to you empty-handed… that I’d come back bearing gifts worthy of my lady wife.”

You lifted your chin slightly, meeting his intense gaze. “And what gift do you bring me, my lord?” You smiled, a playful glint sparking in your eyes, hoping to tease him further.

“Let me show you,” he replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 

His hands moved the cloth down your body, seeing his hungry eyes as if he was admiring every detail. Finally, the gown left your body, his hands tightening on your hips. He pulled, then, making you move down the bed so you were laid completely.

Eyes locking with yours, he grazed his body back, until his chin hit your thigh, he laid a soft kiss there, then another and another, each one trailing higher, awakening every nerve beneath his lips. 

You gasped, a tremor running through you at the unexpected sensation. Cregan’s warm breath danced across your skin, teasing and tantalizing, and you felt as if he was drawing out all the longing that had been buried deep within you during his absence.

“Every part of you deserves to be worshiped,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he continued his slow ascent. Your body responded instinctively, arching toward him, seeking more of his touch, more of the heat radiating from him.

His hands explored the delicate curves of your thighs, fingers brushing against the soft skin, sending delightful shivers through your body. “You’re exquisite,” he breathed, his gaze never wavering from yours, filled with a mix of admiration and hunger that made your heart race faster.

His hair had gone messy, from the sleeping and the kissing. You moved your hand to gently move it out of his face as he kissed your thighs, hands still holding onto your hips. At the feeling of your hand in his hair, he hitched up your knee, your leg now resting on his shoulder.

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks, the intimacy of the moment electrifying. Cregan looked up at you from his place between your thighs, his eyes alight with mischief and desire, as if he relished every second spent worshiping you. The way he gazed at you made your heart flutter, igniting a yearning that had been building like a wildfire in your chest.

“Cregan…” you breathed, the sound barely above a whisper, an invitation and a plea all at once.

He didn’t respond with words; instead, he pressed his lips to the soft skin of your thigh, his warm breath sending tingling sensations coursing through you. You gripped the furs beneath you, fighting the urge to arch your back as he continued his tantalizing path, leaving a trail of kisses that made you dizzy with anticipation.

The world outside the chamber faded away, the responsibilities and duties of Winterfell slipping from your mind as you surrendered to the moment. Cregan’s hands were firm and confident, his thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your hips as he inched closer to your center, teasing you with his slow, deliberate movements.

“Do you know how long I dreamed of this?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, the warmth of his breath against your skin causing you to shiver in response. “Each night in the forest, all I could think about was coming back to you.”

You could feel your pulse quicken at his words, the raw honesty behind them igniting a fire deep within you. “I wished for you every day, husband,” you confessed, your voice trembling with longing. “Every moment apart felt like an eternity.”

You tightened your hold on his hair when he reached your heat, the soft kiss placed on you made you shiver in pleasure, a sigh leaving your lips. Then, a slow lick of a stripe, he hummed as he tasted you.

The sensation rippled through you, sending a wave of heat pooling low in your belly. Cregan's mouth was warm and inviting, and as he savored your essence, you felt an exquisite blend of vulnerability and power in this intimate act. Every flick of his tongue ignited your senses, drawing forth soft gasps and shudders from your lips that filled the otherwise quiet chamber. You couldn't help but wonder how one man could wield such mastery over your body, and the thought alone sent a thrill of delight coursing through you.

“Cregan,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, the name tasting sweet on your tongue as you surrendered to the blissful sensations he was drawing from you. He paused for a brief moment, looking up at you, those grey eyes smoldering with heat and intent, and you could see the raw need etched in the lines of his face.

“Let me hear you,” he urged, his voice low and gravelly, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “Please.”

You nodded, emboldened by the warmth in his gaze, as his mouth resumed its heavenly ministrations. He teased you with lingering kisses, his warm breath contrasting deliciously against the coolness of the room, drawing you ever closer to the edge.

The world outside faded entirely, leaving only the warmth of the furs beneath you, the heady scent of pine, leather, and Cregan’s unique musk swirling around you. Every soft brush of his lips and each firm flick of his tongue was perfectly attuned to your body, as if he had learned your every secret through those long nights apart. He knew how to coax the sensations from you, his skilled movements igniting a fire that blazed brighter with every passing second.

“Please, don’t stop,” you gasped, your voice filled with urgency as you felt the building pressure within you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to unravel at any moment. “I–”

He took your words as a challenge, redoubling his efforts. Instinctively, his hand moved up to hold yours, fingers linked together as he used the other hand to pull you closer to his mouth. Cregan’s lips moved with fervor, the sounds of your pleasure spilling from your lips mixing with the soft sighs of his own desire. He consumed you, wholly and completely, until all you could focus on was the heat building between your legs and the way his hands gripped you possessively.

“More, Cregan,” you whimpered, your body arching instinctively toward him, seeking more of the ecstasy he was so expertly delivering. It was as if he was the sun, and you were drawn into his orbit, helplessly caught in the warmth of his desire.

“Your wish is my command,” he murmured against your skin, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core. He shifted his focus, his movements becoming more deliberate and focused as he traced delicate circles, pushing you higher and higher toward the precipice of bliss.

With each tantalizing stroke, you could feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable. Your fingers clenched in his hair, urging him on, and Cregan obliged with a growl of delight that sent a rush of pleasure coursing through you.

“I need you,” you breathed, the words escaping before you could think better of them. You knew it was true; your body craved him, and the aching longing that had been stifled during his absence ignited into an all-consuming desire.

He lifted his head momentarily, the flush on his cheeks matching yours as he gazed at you, an intensity burning in his eyes. “You have me,” he promised, his voice low and thick with desire. “You will always have me.” And then he returned to his feast, working you higher, his focus unwavering.

With each teasing caress and each gentle suckle, you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, the world outside fading further as you surrendered completely to the sensations he was igniting within you. The exquisite pressure tightened and tightened until it finally burst, sending you spiraling over the edge into a world of blinding pleasure.

You cried out his name, the sound reverberating in the chamber as wave after wave of bliss washed over you. It was a moment of pure euphoria, your body trembling as you rode the heights of pleasure, feeling as if you could float away on the sheer intensity of it all.

Cregan held you close, his hands steady against your hips as he guided you through the peaks and valleys of your climax, whispering sweet nothings that only deepened your connection. He worshiped you even in the throes of your release, kissing away your cries as he drew you back down gently, his warmth wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

As the tremors of pleasure subsided, you gazed down at him, breathless and glowing, the room still echoing with the remnants of your bliss. Cregan's face radiated a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness, his lips curled into a smirk that made your heart flutter.

Afterwards, catching your breaths, you lay tangled together, a sheen of sweat cooling on your skin as you basked in the afterglow.

"I should go hunting more often," Cregan mused, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder, "if this is the welcome I can expect upon my return."

You swatted his chest playfully. "Don't you dare," you warned. "Or I shall be forced to accompany you on every expedition, propriety be damned."

Cregan's laugh was full and rich, a sound that never failed to warm your heart. "Now there's a terrifying thought. The great lords of the North, cowering before the fierce Lady Stark as she stalks through the Wolfswood."

You propped yourself up on one elbow, fixing him with a mock glare. "And why shouldn't they cower? I've tamed the fiercest wolf of all, have I not?"

Something shifted in Cregan's expression then, the mirth fading into something deeper, more intense. He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness. "Aye," he said softly. "That you have, my love. That you have."

You settled back against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. The rest of the world could wait, you decided. For now, this moment was yours alone – you and Cregan, wrapped in the cocoon of your shared love, savoring a peace that had been long in the making.

[writing-wh0re]

AAAAH, I just saw you posting your prompts and your requests are open. I don’t know if you write them together or individually, but if you can (or if you can’t but you can write for one of them), could you do Fred and George with a Smutty prompt #3?

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley

Word Count: 6,167 - I had so much fun writing this

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Slight Choking Kink, Slight Slapping Kink (if you squint), Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spanking Kink. Slight cum kink. Use of pet names.

Basically its a very kinky smut and there's actually plot - look at me go.

A/n: Sorry I have been inactive, life am I right? But I'm getting a desk setup completed so I will be more fequent! I hope. I apologise for this being long, but I truly had so much fun writing this request. My love for the twins is reigniting. I will be fixing up my taglist as well / making a library blog for posts. I have written this smut differently to how I have in the past, let me know if you'd like a part 2!

Merry Christmas x

| | | |

Hogwarts was quiet the closer it got to Christmas, snow was gently falling and the gusts of wind were freezing. Most students went home for Christmas but this year was different for you. Your parents had decided to take a trip to get away from the wizarding world for a few months with no real timeline of coming back, it was something that shocked you but also didn’t surprise you. 

Fred and George had decided to not rush home right away, debating on whether or not to ask you to join them at the Weasley house for Christmas, not really sure of what your relationship was, if it was anything other than lust and desire. 

“You can’t sit alone in the common room for weeks, it’s Christmas.” George grumbled slouching down on the couch beside you.

“I’ll be fine, honestly, I have so many books I can read.” You gestured to the pile of books on the table that you had acquired from the library. “You two should head home, I’m almost certain your mum has made your favourite foods.” 

Fred smiles at the mention of his mum and her tradition of making something for everyone to enjoy. 

“You can come with us, we have a spare room and I’m sure mum would be overjoyed to finally meet our best friend.” 

Best friend

Although not untrue the word still seemed to pang your heart with disappointment. An on and off hook up to them doesn’t mean the same thing it does to you and that was something you were coming to terms with. 

Fred and George sensed the hesitation on you after Fred had dropped the best friend title, it was something they were yet to discuss with you, were you just best friends who fooled around? Or were you also wanting something more that you could all figure out together over time. 

“I don’t want to impose, you’ll have such a full house, isn’t Bill in the guest room this year?” 

George smirks, you do listen to every word they say. 

“What Freddie is saying is there will be a spare bed somewhere, we have two in our room and the couch downstairs, I’m sure something can be sorted.” 

“Mum already thinks you’re coming so hurry up and pack your things.” 

Your mouth falls open at Fred’s revelation, your eyes flick to George who smirks. 

“Go on, we leave in fifteen minutes.”

“I feel like there wasn’t much of a choice in this matter.” 

The twins chuckle as you pack your things up and run up to your dorm, searching your room for a bag to pack things into you. 

You quickly rush out of your dorm, running into the twins as you look up at them. Their eyes wander your face, a blush creeping up your neck. 

You look down at the floor, before George places his hand under your chin.

“Everything okay baby?”

Baby. 

You weren't quite sure how a simple nickname could make your stomach flip and your body tingle, but it did, especially coming for George and Fred. 

“Uh, um.” Your mind is foggy, unsure what you were originally rushing for. The twins smirk, sharing a quick look before your face lights up, having remembered what you wanted to ask. 

“How long are we gone for?”

“We will be coming back the week before term starts.”

“But we can come back earlier if you’d like.” 

“So three weeks?”

The twins nod as you spin and walk back into your dorm, them following behind you. You walk back and forth from your closet to your bed, where the twins have decided to lounge while you pack. Finding outfits is easy, finding lingerie works out to be a little harder under the gaze of the men on your bed. 

You quickly open your dresser draw, looking over the various colours of lace and matching sets. Quickly you grab a hand full and shove it into your bag, closing your dresser and zipping the bag closed. 

“Darling, you dropped something.” George whispers, moving past you and bending down to pick up your dark red G-string, blush creeps up your face, your stomach filling with butterflies as George passes the material to Fred who simply places it in your bag and rezips it. 

Your mind continues to rush, a million thoughts racing through your brain as the twins share a smirk before grabbing your bag from the bed. 

“C’mon love.” Fred holds your bag as he walks out of your dorm, George follows closely behind his eyes looking you up and down, sending a swift wink your way before holding his hand out, an invitation to take his. Which you do, almost embarrassingly fast. 

George squeezes your hand and pulls you along with him to follow Fred. 

| | | | 

After a few days at the Weasley home, you started to feel settled and a part of the family. Harry had joined the household on the same day as you, making you feel not so alone in the imposing feeling. No one was surprised to see you, they were excited to have another friend along for the celebration. Molly had made you feel so at home, hugging you when you first arrived, a feeling of warmth and comfort washing over you within her embrace. 

Over the past few days, Molly had shown you how to bake a few of her signature recipes, she had even gone as far as asking what your favourite food was, setting herself a goal of creating it for you come Christmas Eve. 

Being one day out from Christmas, Molly didn’t want to be disturbed in the kitchen, she needed her space and stated that everyone should go outside to play a friendly game of Quidditch, she emphasised the word ‘friendly’ mainly at the twins. 

So you sat on your broom beside Harry, waiting for everyone who was playing to fly into the air. 

“Have you played before?” Harry asks curiously, not knowing much about you, himself being two years younger. 

“Yeah, but I'm definitely not a pro.” You laugh as Harry smiles, looking out at the Weasley family. 

“I think they’re going to kick our ass.” 

“Oh without a doubt.” 

You and Harry share a smile, your eyes wandering to the golden ball, clearly not the shiny golden snitch but definitely close. The quaffle and bludgers fly through the air with a woosh sound, everyone going into game mode. You and Harry nod at each other, both taking the role of seekers before rushing into the air in search of the ‘snitch’. 

Within a matter of seconds the twins are behind you, chasing after you. You fly past the duo, diving down behind Harry who seems to have his eye on the golden ball. You quickly look over your shoulder, the twins hot on your ass. You notice the golden ball dancing between the twins. A smirk dances across your lips as you fly up higher just outside of the quidditch pitch, pulling up on your broom as the twins fly past you. They stop and look back at you as you flash them your bare tits. Both of them go wide eyed as you hold the golden ball between your hands, pulling your sweater back down. 

“Later losers” 

You turn your broom around, wiggling your ass as you dive down to the grass. 

“We won!” You scream, Ginny, Bill and Ron rush down to you, pulling you into a hug and cheering for your team as the rest of the players come to the ground. 

You make brief eye contact with the twins, a darkness in their eyes but clapping for your victory nonetheless. 

“Lunch is ready! C’mon darlings before the storm comes.” Molly gestures for everyone to come inside as you opt to help clean the game up, the twins staying behind with you. 

You bend down to pick up the spare brooms, your ass brushing against George’s crotch, your eyes locking onto Fred and sending him a wink. 

Fred stands in front of you, shielding you from the view of the house, George holding your hips, pulling you against his chest. Fred caresses your cheek, his head shaking. 

“Do that one more time and we’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 

Your breathing hitches, your eyes never leaving Fred as he hooks one finger into the collar of your sweater, looking down at your bare tits. George slips one hand up into your sweater, groping your boob as you whimper, a shiver runs over your body at his cold finger tips. The fear of getting caught creeps up, a slight wetness running to your core. Fred tilts your head to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly. 

The twins smirk pulling away from you like nothing happened and begin grabbing the game equipment. 

They walk towards the home, not once turning back to look at you. Thunder rumbles through the sky as you quickly rush inside, not wanting to be left out in the oncoming storm. 

“There you are sweet girl, would you prefer peach or lemon tea?” Molly asks sweetly, smiling at you before worry washes over her. Molly places her hands on your cheeks and a slight frown on her face. 

“Y/n, honey you look flushed, are you okay?”

You heart hammers in your chest, those fucking twins. 

“I’m okay Molly, the wind just gets to me sometimes.” You smile, reassuring her as she pulls you into a warm embrace. You make eye contact with the twins, smug smirks on their face. 

“You tell me if you need anything, now, lemon or peach?” 

You nod at Molly, deciding on lemon tea before squeezing in between Fred and George at the table, conveniently the only spot left. You spin the pasta around the fork, thankful for a warm meal. Your body tenses slightly, feeling both Fred and George place a hand on your thighs. Both of them grab and squeeze the flesh, involuntarily rocking your hips at their touch. You quickly catch yourself, continuing to eat while the twins trace shapes and grip your skin. 

| | | | 

Not much continued to happen yesterday and today had mainly been taken up by Ginny and Molly asking for help with wrapping gifts, a cheeky idea coming into your mind as you pocketed a bit of red ribbon. 

Tonight was the big Christmas Eve feast, Mr Weasley had finished work early and everyone was told, multiple times, that dinner would be served at 7pm, not a minute over. Molly hadn’t made lunch today, wanting everyone to wait with anticipation for her multitude of amazing dishes, a favourite created for everyone in the home, including yourself and Harry. You had simply asked for baked honey carrots, which judging by the smell of honey filling the home, Molly had delivered. 

“Thank you girls, go get comfy while I finish up dinner.” Molly smiled, kissing Ginny’s head before ushering us away from the table so she could set it accordingly. 

“I’m going for a quick shower.” Ginny states rushing up the stairs in front of you. You duck into the twins room, looking over George’s messy bed and Fred’s mattress on the floor, thankful that you could share a room with them but lucky enough to score Fred’s bed. 

“Mum loves you.” I jump slightly at George's words not noticing him behind me. I smile, falling backwards on Fred’s bed. 

“I love her, she feels like home when she hugs you.” I whisper as George hums in agreement. 

Fred walks into the room, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist. I sit up slightly, resting on my elbows, my eyes shamelessly dragging over his toned body. 

“My eyes are here baby.” 

That fucking nickname.

“Oh I’m well aware.” I whisper, looking over at George quickly. “Remind me, do you look like that?” 

George smirks, pulling his shirt over his head, his body just as toned as Fred’s. 

I bite my lip, looking between the two shirtless twins. 

“Noted.” 

Fred locks the door behind him, resting against it. George stands from his bed, nodding at his brother before pulling me closer to the edge by my ankles.

“We’re sick of this game love.” 

“We know you want us.”

“Fuck, we want you.”

“That shit you pulled during the game.”

“Dangerous.”

“Slutty.”

“Showing off what’s ours to the whole family.” 

My breath hitches at their words, looking up at both of them towering over me on the bed. 

“I’m yours?”

The twins smirk, George leans down, his thumb brushing against my lip. 

“Should we remind you?”

“It’s been a long time, baby.”

“We forget what you feel like.”

“Sound like.” 

They emphasise their words by groping at your body. Your body tingles, wetness pooling between your thighs. 

Fred feels your pocket, pulling out the red ribbon with a smile. George smirks, tilting his head at me. 

“Are you our Christmas gift?” 

You open and close your mouth, simply nodding as they chuckle. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.”

“Yes.” You whisper, watching their every move. 

George smiles, leaning down and pulling you up from the bed, your chest against his, your back against Fred’s. 

“How lucky are we Freddie.” 

“Extremely.” Fred whispers, his hands gripping your ass. 

George leans down to your lips, his lips hovering over mine, your breath mixing as my eyes flick from his to his lips. 

“Please.” You whimper. 

George closes the distance between you, your lips moulding against each other. Fred kisses along your neck and shoulder, sucking on your weak spot as you moan into George’s mouth, allowing for his tongue to twirl with yours. 

“Be quiet baby.” George whispers as Fred captures your lips, his kiss just as soft as George, savouring every swipe of your tongue against each other. George’s hands slip under your sweater, a groan falling from his lips at your lack of bra, twisting your nipples. 

“Fuck daddy.” You whisper, both of the twins stopping briefly, as George grabs your hair pulling your face to him. 

“Say that again.”

“Daddy.” You whimper, your lips pouting, Fred moans, his hands spanking your ass.

“We’re going to ruin you.” 

Before anything more can happen you hear Molly shout up the stairs, letting you know dinner is served. 

“Fuck.” The three of you say in unison, the boys pull away from your body. Fred rushes around the room for clothing as George puts his sweater back on. 

George smirks at you, tapping your ass and nodding towards your hair. 

“Might want to fix that baby.”

“Don’t want everyone to know you’re our little slut.” Fred winks, both of them slipping out of the room, their footsteps bouncing down the stairs. 

Your fingers brush against your lips, a slight tingle against the flesh from their kisses. A smirk forming on your face, thankful for the last few minutes, a step in the direction you crave. 

After you fix your hair,you quickly bounce down the stairs, thankful you're not the last one as Harry and Ron rush in behind you.  

“Sit, sit dear.” Molly gestures to the space across from the twins, next to Ginny and Harry. You quickly sit as Molly places the last dish on the table. The house smells amazing, a mix of spices and hints of firewood from the stove. 

“Merry Christmas, I love all of you.” Molly smiles, kissing Arthur. “Including you two.” Molly gestures to Harry and yourself as you knock his shoulder, smiling at him. “Please, eat.” 

No one waits for Molly to say it twice, everyone serving themselves. George serves you a pile of honey carrots and Fred places a few roasted potatoes on your plate before continuing to serve themselves. A soft smile falls on your lips, the simple domestic gesture filling your heart, maybe this could work. 

Everyone is quiet while enjoying Molly’s food, the sound of knives and forks clicking together. You catch Molly’s eye as she enjoys watching her family sharing dinner together, only having this occur a few times within the year. Molly catches your eye and winks at you, scrunching her nose and smiling at you before taking a sip out of her wine glass. You smile back at Molly, a warmth washing over you at the small interaction. Your eyes flick to the twins in front of you, both of them almost finished with their meal. A cheeky thought pops into your mind as you shuffle on your seat slightly, dragging your foot up George’s leg. His eyes lock onto yours, he nudges Fred inconspicuously to get his attention before sitting back in his chair, his legs spreading wider as his older brother looks down at the chair quickly. You press your foot into George’s crotch softly noticing his body tense as Fred shakes his head, grabbing his cup and tipping the liquid into his mouth. You drop your foot from George and move it to Fred, not wanting him to feel left out. Fred grabs his napkin, wiping his mouth as he looks over at George and nods. A wordless conversation shared between the two as George smirks. 

“So Y/n and Harry, what subjects are you looking forward to most next year?” Molly asks, butterflies flip in your stomach, feeling like Molly caught you. You quickly drop your foot from Fred causing him to chuckle slightly, George takes a sip from his glass hiding his smirk at your reaction. 

“Defence against the dark arts, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.” Harry states, causing a small chuckle to fill the air. 

“And Y/n?” Molly smiles. 

“Potions, I’m excited to create a few remedies for different conditions but also to help these two-” You quickly gesture to Fred and George who go wide eyed, you know Molly and Arthur don’t know about their ‘jokes’ yet but why not keep them on their toes. “With passing the subject. You know they don’t stir their cauldrons, they just expect it to work when you throw things into it.” 

Molly and Arthur chuckle, a smug smirk on your face at the panic you just gave the twins. 

“Oh that explains why their grades for positions are so high, we have you to thank.” Arthur chuckles as you nod, smiling at him. Little does he know, you have them to thank for your grades. 

You pick up your glass, taking a sip of the cinnamon eggnog, freshly made as Molly questions her kids about what they’re most looking forward to. You only half listen, your mind occupied by the pair of redheads in front of you, your mind filled with ideas on what you want to do to them and them to you. Thankfully for such a great break. 

| | | | 

The night flew by, Molly handed out one gift to her kids, including yourself and Harry. Molly stated it was something to wear for Christmas day breakfast and to not fuss over opening one present early. She asked everyone to open them at the sametime, to which you did and found yourself with a handmade sweater with your first initial on the front, everyone had one. You held the fabric close to yourself, knowing you would hold onto this for the rest of your life. 

Fred and George hadn’t spoken to you since dinner, opting to hangout with their brothers and Harry while you and Ginny gossiped on the couch. Ginny was confiding in you about her crush on Harry and how Dean had been sending her letters since he left for break. You hadn’t noticed when the room dwindled down to just yourself, Ginny and Harry. Upon noticing and remembering what Ginny had said, you excused yourself, leaving the two of them alone which caused Ginny’s cheeks to heat with a rosy blush. 

You quickly went up the staircase, noticing how much quieter the house was the further you climbed. You slip into the twins room, hearing soft snores, noticing Fred’s asleep on the spare mattress on the floor. You look to George’s bed and see it's empty. You can hear the faint running of water, a small idea popping into your head. You walk over to the bathroom, your hand resting on the handle, hoping to god it’s George. You contemplate this gamble for a few seconds, bouncing on your heels slightly before the devil on your shoulder simply says ‘fuck it’ and you turn the handle to the bathroom. 

“Hey, knock-” George pulls the shower curtain across, cutting himself off when he sees you leaning against the now closed bathroom door. A smirk forms on his face as pulls the shower curtain open a little for you, simply waiting. The steam flows outside of the curtain, the mirror foggy and walls wet. You quickly slip out of your clothes, untying your hair and letting it fall. A shiver runs over your body in the damp air and you hurry into the shower, wanting the warm water to cascade over your body. 

George has his head tipped under the shower, leaving his body open to your eyes. You drink in his figure, his toned chest and arms, his semi hard cock and strong legs. The water streams down his skin, small sprinkles covering your body. Wetness slips past your folds, your heart beat picking up, this almost feels wrong without his counterpart. But you know they will talk and you know Fred will be jealous. 

George faces you, dragging his hand down his face to wipe away the water, his eyes linger on your body, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 

“What’s Freddie going to say?” 

The mention of his name has butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“Why don’t you tell him and find out.” 

George smirks at your response, stepping closer to you and pushing you against the side shower wall, the cold tiles resting against your skin as a hiss leaves your lips.

“You’re a cock hungry whore, aren’t you baby?”

Your lips part at his words, simply nodding and leaning up to capture his lips. George pulls away from you tutting as he holds your chin between his fingers. 

“You answer daddy when he asks a question.” 

“Only for you daddy.” 

George chuckles, tilting your face up to his. Small droplets of water fall from his hair and onto your skin. 

“Liar.” He whispers, licking along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth and pulling the flesh. “You’re a slut for Freddie, and fuck it makes me hard, but tonight you’re mine.” 

You nod your head, a whispered ‘Yes Daddy’ slipping from your lips, your eyes staring into his. His lips lock with yours, his wet hand moving from your chin and tangling in your hair, pulling on the strands. A moan falls into your kiss, your tongues swirling against each other, his free hand holding your hip, pulling your dry body against his. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet baby.” George whispers, his lips kissing down your neck, tongue tracing a line to your boobs. You softly whimper as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the hardened bud. He pulls from your breast with a pop, alternating to the other side, your fingers tracing through his hair, pulling when he bites your nipple. The warm shower water sprinkling your body, the steam filling your lungs as your gasp.

“You’re so beautiful and these tits.” George whispers, grabbing your boobs in his large hands and jiggling the flesh. He sucks on the skin of your cleavage, leaving a red and purple hickey on each one, definitely something to rile up Fred. 

George presses against you, your boobs slip against his wet chest. His lips brush against your ear as you feel his hard cock against you skin. 

“This is all for you.” 

Your moan in response, causing George to place a hand over your mouth. Tutting at you as he shakes his head. He drags his fingertips up and down your thighs, softly tapping against your folds before slipping one finger past. He sucks in a breath at your wetness, pressing his fingers against your clit and looking into your eyes. 

“You’re so good for me, so wet and warm.” 

You nod against his hand that’s still pressed against your lips. His finger starts to swirl around your clit in small circles. Your eyes roll back, a moan vibrating against his hand. 

“I’ve missed this pussy baby.” 

He picks up the pace of his finger on your clit, your legs tense at the feeling of pleasure flowing through you at his actions. George pulls his finger from your clit, placing the digit against his tongue and rubbing it side to side, before his lips encase it. 

“So sweet.” 

If he wasn’t covering your mouth, it would be open in shock. 

“Please.” You beg, whispering against his hand, it is barely audible, he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t feel your lips move against his skin. 

“Are you begging for me to fuck you against the wall baby?”

His words cause more wetness to flow between your legs. He moves his hand from your lips allowing for you to answer. 

“Please daddy, I’ve missed your cock.” 

George smirks, placing his hand under your right knee and lifting your leg up, his other hand resting under your left arm. 

“I bet you’d say the same fucking thing to Freddie.” 

It’s your time to smirk at his words, nodding softly before you reach down and wrap your hand around his hard cock, tip red and beading with precum. 

“I would, because I’m a whore for you and a slut for him.” You whisper, slowly pumping your hand up and down his dick. George bites his lip, looking down at your hand. You place his cock against your folds, the tip brushes your wet clit causing him to hiss at the contact. You guide him lower to your entrance, angling your hips to allow for him to slide into your velvet walls. 

Both of you sigh in unison at the contact. George keeps his hips still, his lips capturing yours, savouring in the feeling of your walls around his cock. You rock your hips up slightly, a silent beg for movement as he smiles against your lips, pulling his cock from your pussy before plunging deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he finds his rhythm, his cock slips in and out of you, your wetness growing the deeper he thrusts inside of you. His lips are resting against your ear, his low whispered moans and groans echoing in your head. 

“So tight and wet for me.”

“Such a good girl for daddy.” 

Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy has your pussy tightening around him, his praise sending tingles through your body. 

The water of the shower continues to run, it ever so slightly sprinkling you both with droplets. The steam continues to fill the room, the water pressure dropping from being on for so long. 

“Touch your clit for me baby, I’m close and want you to cum first.” 

You slip your hand between your bodies, a moan falling from your lips as you circle your clit, the wetness causing it to slip against your finger. You add another, two now circling your clit and fast to help you reach your high. 

“Look at you, such a whore.” 

You whimper at his words, your pussy tightening causing George to hiss, tilting his head back, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he continues to rock in and out of you. 

“D-don’t stop.” 

Your legs tense, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and George’s lips fall to your neck, kissing the skin and whispering for you to cum. 

“Cover my cock baby.”

Your heart beat picks up, your breath hitching and your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your legs tingle and untense; George’s cock continues to slide in and out of you, his pace picking up as he moans in your ear. His mouth falls to your shoulder and bits skin to muffle his moan as his cum spurts, warmth pooling inside of you. 

George pulls away from you, watching his cock pull in and out, covered in a mix of cum. He gently places your leg down, slipping out of your pussy with a hiss. 

“C’mere.” George whispers, pulling you to his chest and kissing your hair. He spins you around, softly placing the warm running water against your cold back, his fingers tracing in your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead, his hands now holding your hips. 

“Let’s get you ready for bed.” 

| | | | 

You wake up in the morning, a dull ache in your legs from last night. The memory of last night floods your mind, you lift your shirt looking at your boobs beautifully covered in hickeys. 

“I hear you had fun last night.” 

You look over at Fred leaning against the doorway. Your face fills with blush, your eyes quickly flicking to George’s bed as you hear Fred chuckle. 

“George is out with everyone else, mum insisted they hand deliver Christmas cards to the neighbours.” Fred states, closing the door and moving closer to the bed. “And I insisted on letting you rest because you were up late last night and had to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.” 

“Freddie.”

“Nuh-uh, what’s my name baby girl.” 

Your stomach fills with butterflies, watching the eldest twin sit on the bed beside you, his fingers caressing your face. 

“Daddy.”

Fred nods, his hand tilting your chin up, before settling around your throat. Bending down to your lips and whispering against them. 

“That’s better, I bet you called George daddy and I bet you fucking loved it.” 

“I did.” 

You want Fred to be rough, you want him to compete against his brother, you want to be filled with his cum. 

“I hear you’re a slut for me, is that correct?” 

His hand tightens around your throat before releasing softly, dragging his hand down your body and resting it on your boob. 

“Yes daddy, whatever you want me to be.” 

Fred smirks, chuckling at your response. 

“So submissive for me, you wanted to make me jealous didn't you baby?”

He grips your breast, pinching your nipple and dragging his hand down your body, cupping your pussy through your thin pyjama pants.

“You want me to fuck you better than George.”

“Please.” You whimper, your hips rocking up against his hand. 

Fred slaps your pussy through your pants as your hips stop. 

“He was right, you’re a slut for me.” 

You simply nod in response. Fred leans down, his lips ghosting yours. 

“Get on your knees and show me what you want.” 

Within a second he’s pulled away for you, leaning back on the bed and resting against his elbows. You scramble off the bed, falling to your knees in front of him, the wooden floor hard and cold. 

You loop your fingers into Fred’s pants, tugging them down his body along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting against his lower stomach. Your mind floods with comparison to George, the thickness and length comparable, a vein running from the base to the tip. You run your tongue along the vein, flattening your tongue against the head of his cock before slipping it past your lips. 

“Fuck.” Fred moans, falling back on the bed, his hands dragging down his face. 

You wrap your hand around the base of his dick, meeting your lips half way, your tongue flicking side to side around his cock. Fred’s fingers lace in your hair, assisting you with bobbing your head up and down, his hips thrusting into your throat. Your eyes water, a few gags filling the air and drool leaking from your mouth. 

“Such a messy baby.” 

Your eyes roll back, moaning around his cock. 

“You didn’t- fuck- suck George’s dick, did you baby.” You shake your head, popping his cock from your lips. 

“Just for you daddy.”

“Mm, just what I wanted to hear.” Fred grabs your face between his hands, kissing your lips sloppily, his tongue rubbing against yours. Your lips are puffy and glistening with spit, his teeth pull at your bottom lip pulling away from you. 

“On the bed baby, ass up for daddy.”

Within an instant you’re standing in front of him, stripping your clothes. Fred stops you before you can lay across the bed, noticing the hickies covering your boobs. 

“Cocky fucker.” Fred groans, spanking your ass in encouragement to get on the bed. 

You lay with your ass in the air, feeling Fred kiss down your back. He reaches your ass, spanking the plump skin, soothing it with a soft kiss to your cheek. His teeth graze the skin, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your ass. You squeak as he spanks you, his cock dragging up and down your slit, bumping against your clit, your moans filling the air. 

“No one’s home baby, be loud for me.” 

Fred slides deep inside of you, the angle allows for him to brush against your g-spot a moan pulling from your throat. 

“Fuck, I should just stay inside of you, that would drive you crazy, wouldn’t it baby?” 

“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” 

“Mm, what would George say?”

“Fuck, please, fuck me.” 

You push your hips back against his cock, a low groan falling from his lips. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock baby.” Fred encourages, your hips rock back and forth on his cock, wiggling them against him. You pull forward just far enough to leave the tip inside of you before pushing back allowing for him to slip deep inside of you. This causes Fred to grip your hips, starting his own rhythm and thrusting in and out of you. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it baby?”

You nod against the comforter, your hands gripping the material. 

Fred spanks your ass, his fingers looping your hair around his palm and pulling you up. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes daddy, wanted you to fuck me.” 

“Wanted me to fuck you better than George.” 

You moan at his words, his pace picking up. Both of your moans and heavy breathing fill the air, his grip still tight on your hair. Fred uses his grip to pull you up against his chest, his arm wrapping across your boobs as he bounces you on his cock. 

His lips fall to your ear, using his free hand to rub your clit. 

“Fuck, Freddie.”

Fred chuckles against your ear, his warm breath fanning your neck.

“Scream my name louder baby, I want George to hear.” He pinches your clit, your body jumping in response before he rubs fast circles around the bundle of nerves. You rest your head against his shoulder, lips parted with moans pouring from them. Your pussy tightens around his cock as his dick twitches. 

“You can cum for me baby, I’ve got you.” 

Fred’s grip on your body tightens, his hips rocking into you faster. 

“Daddy, so good.”

He kisses the side of your head, his pace picking up on your clit. He feels you clamp around his cock and your body tense. Your toes curl and your body shivers, cumming around Fred.

“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Fred whispers, the sound of your wetness filling the air as he continues to pound into you. He pushes your torso back onto the bed, holding your ass in his hands and chasing his high. Fred curses and you feel his load shoot inside of you, a few more thrusts and Fred gingerly pulls out of you. 

“Look at you baby.” He whispers, softly caressing your skin. 

You gently roll over onto your back, attempting to catch your breath as Fred rushes around for clothing before disappearing. You hear the front door to the Weasley’s home open close and a chatter fill the air. You heart rate picks up slightly, your body aching and mind blissed out to cover yourself. 

Fred reappears in the bedroom with a warm towel between his hands. Within a moment later George is sliding through the door. His eyes darkening when they land on you, legs spread and pussy dripping with his brother's cum. The twins share a look as Fred throws the towel to George who stalks over to you. 

“Such a pretty baby, our little cum slut.” George whispers, his eyes fixated on your pussy. A gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of George slipping his fingers inside of you. George pulls his fingers from you, a mix of cum sticking to his flesh. You grab George’s wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth, dragging your tongue up his fingers, sucking the mix of cum, your moan vibrating around his fingers. Your eyes lock with the younger twin, a smile present on both of their faces. 

“We’re so lucky Freddie.”

| | | |

Let me know if you'd like a part 2 with both of them.

[grandline-fics]

Dream A Little Dream

DESCRIPTION: They hear you say their name in your sleep

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Law, Sabo | Killer, Smoker

WORDS: 1,295

A/N: After the wedding nightmare request I thought I'd do something quick and fluffy. Might do this one again with other characters. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

Law knows it’s wrong to have feelings like these. He knows he shouldn’t let himself fall deeper and deeper in his attraction and yearning to be with you. For now he’s managed to restrain himself from confessing or making any sort of move with you. You’re a member of his crew, someone he depends on completely and he’s your Captain. Of course you would look at him the way you do, you’re looking to him as the commander of the ship and your unwavering trust in him is because of his title and talk so easily with him because of a solid foundation of friendship. Nothing more. He can’t allow himself to hope there’s more to it. It can only ever be Captain and subordinate.

Still though when he’s finished his work for the day and does his routine survey of the Polar Tang, ensuring all crew tasks are completed, that everything is maintained and the ship is running smoothly he can’t help but leave your station to last. Just to allow himself an extra moment of time with you, to talk as you both relax from your duties is something he can’t give up. This is fine though, he tells himself, it’s a tiny indulgence that won’t go any further. He finds you as you’re leaving the engine room, having finished extensive maintenance checks and calibrations. You both talk as you walk towards the communal area, Law can’t help but notice your movements and responses are a little slower than usual.

Before he can ask if you’re okay, Penguin’s voice calls for him from the control room. With a small smile you lightly nudge him in the direction of your friend’s voice. “Duty calls, Captain.” You tell him while forcing yourself to hold back the yawn rising in your chest. As much as you’d love to keep talking with him, you know you can’t command all of his attention. “I’ll be in here when you’re done.” Law can only nod once and watch you walk into the communal room while he has to see to Penguin’s problem. 

By the time he’s finished and returns to the room he finds you curled up on one of the sofa, arm tucked under your head and sleeping deeply. Now that he has the time, he can see how exhausted you look. Your body needs the rest and as much as he’d like to just let you sleep, he can’t in good conscience let you continue to sleep in the position you’ve found yourself in. You’ll wake stiff and sore and feeling no benefit to the sleep you’re body eagerly sought. His fingers flex and he’s about to conjure a Room to transport you to your bed when he stops. 

Taking a breath, Law leans down and easily gathers your sleeping body into his arms. He stills when you shift and he fears for a moment that you’ve woken but instead you seem to nestle into the warmth of his arms and chest, unconsciously your hand curls around his shirt. Law allows himself a small smile and walks carefully to your sleeping quarters. 

He lays you gently on your bed and pulls the covers over you as you relax against the mattress and incoherently mumble. Law shakes his head with a small huff of amusement, for a moment he doesn’t believe anything of what you’re saying is an actual language, just noises. That is until he’s almost at the door and you speak again and this time there’s no denying what you say while unconscious. “You’re the best, Law…so happy…with you…”

Law freezes and whips his head around to observe you, watching for any sign that you’re messing with him or pretending to be asleep but no, you’re fast asleep and dreaming about him. As he quickly recovers from his shock and wipes the momentary lovesick expression off of his face Law leaves to let you rest and finally allows himself the time to consider that maybe he should hope there’s more to your relationship with him. 

SABO

“Dragon’s just going to tell you to go to your quarters and sleep.” Sabo teased as you staggered mid-step towards the meeting room. You righted yourself and threw your colleague a withering look. While he looked rested and practically glowing with his usual bright smile, you looked awful. You’d both been out on individual missions and Sabo was lucky to get back earlier and got a good night’s sleep whereas you’d completed your mission and the journey back had been a rough one, leaving you no chance to get any sleep. Now you had to attend a full Revolutionary meeting. You told yourself you could sleep after you’d reported to your commander. 

“Seriously, you look like you’re about to fall over any second.” Sabo continued, while he was concerned he knew it was pointless to order you to put yourself first. You would just get more stubborn and force yourself to stay away the rest of the day just to prove a point. “If you do fall asleep in the meeting, please don’t do it in Dragon’s lap.” You managed a tired laugh only to stop and let out a long yawn to the point your eyes watered and body swayed slightly. You hadn’t even realised Sabo’s hands were on your shoulders to steady you until after you blinked. “Yeah you’re definitely going straight to bed.”

With your mind and body so exhausted, you didn’t have the normal capabilities and reflexes to react, in a blink Sabo had you effortless thrown over his shoulder and he was already striding down the corridor by the time you caught up with what was happening. “Sabo put me down!”

“This just proves my point you need rest.” Sabo laughed as you feebly hit his back. “Look you’re only letting your reputation suffer. Just sleep and then you can properly kick my ass okay?” You glared tiredly at the ground, ignoring all of the stares you were getting from the other Revolutionaries that were walking to the meeting you were also meant to be attending. Out of pure pettiness you managed to reach up and smack the top hat off of Sabo’s head. However with his own sharp reflexes he caught it with ease.

By the time Sabo reached your quarters he realised you’d stopped trying to break out of his hold and when he adjusted you into his arms to lay you down in your bed he saw that you were fast asleep. He smiled to see you already looked more like yourself now that you’d allowed your body to sleep after having stayed awake this long. “Sleep well, beautiful.” 

“Sabo…” your voice broke from your lips in a hazy murmur and Sabo tilted his head at you. He hadn’t expected you so innocently saying his name in your sleep would make his heart skip a beat but it did. His lips quirked into a smile only for it to drop slightly when your face scrunched into one of annoyance. “Sabo’s prettier…” 

Sabo blinked and relaxed, for a moment you had him worried that you didn’t feel the same as him. He left you to sleep and grinned happily as he made his way to the meeting he was definitely late for, the sound of your sleepy voice echoing in his head. You did catch him off guard by your silly misconception that he was in any way better looking than you but that was you all over. Of course even in your sleep you would manage to be stubborn and disagree with anything he said. Still now he had a new topic to debate with you over, but that could wait until you were awake and more alert. 

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld

[celestiamour]

May I request a flirty Edmund x flustered fem reader? Like the reader is trying to tend to his wounds after a battle or something but Edmund keeps distracting her by trying to show off and making teasing comments? And could it be a non-established relationship?

umm, I know you said requests were open (and you have the right to write what you want anyways) but if you don't want to do this then feel free to ignore this :))

anyways thank you! have a great day<3

ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ edmund flirting while you tend to his wounds┊0.7k words

setting: unspecified narnian age contains: descriptions blood/injury & mentions of battle, ed is a cheesy menace, medical inaccuracies probably

➤ author's note: i made it a bit shorter than planned, but i hope it’s still okay and that you’ll enjoy!!

“oh, god, edmund!” your concerned voice was a bit louder than it was supposed to be upon the sight of one of your beloved kings being brought into the medical tent, prompting you to quickly apologize to everyone in there before rushing to his side. the battle was already over and victory had been named for your kingdom of narnia, so several soldiers injured from the aftermath were being brought to you for recovery (thankfully, there weren’t so many that the youngest queen needed to go running around healing them with her elixir). “i was really hoping not to see any royalty today…”

he seemed a bit paler than usual from blood loss, but he weakly smiled at you rushing to his side, “edmund, huh? whatever happened to you insisting on calling me by my title?”

“is that really what you’re focusing on?” you immediately started removing his armor and cutting away at the fabric of his sleeve that obscured the damage for examination. it looked like an arrowhead got lodged in his arm and the wooden shaft got broken off at some point, needing to be removed in order for you to progress. “stay still and count to ten.”

“i don’t need to count to ten when the ten is right in front of— fuck!!” he almost bit his tongue in the middle of his compliment when you took the opportunity to take out the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, swiftly tossing it on a tray then applying pressure and working your magic as you were trained to.

“stop being so cheeky and let me get you cleaned up!” you huffed, trying to focus on your work instead of his flirtatious advances. it was no secret to anyone with eyes and ears that edmund fancied you and has been trying to woo you for quite some time now, but it seems that the only thing preventing you from being officially courted by him was your own denial of your feelings. even if the royal family made it clear that they would marry for love rather than status, you would still deny with everything in you that he always manages to make you falter without fail.

“a-at least if i die, the last sight i see will be the most beautiful girl in existence by my side,” he joked before hissing at the stinging sensation of you cleaning his wound. it was nowhere near the worst pain he felt or the closest he’s ever been to death, but he thought it would be funny to exaggerate the agony to get you to pay more attention to him as if it wasn’t already all on him.

“don’t say that! it’s not even bad enough to be that much of a bother, just remember to wash the wound with alcohol and change the bandages every day.”

“so i guess that means i’ll be seeing you every day since none of my servants are professionals like you are? i’m a king, you know, so it would only be expected to have the best of the best look after me!”

“… fine, i guess i’ll see you around this time for the next week for so until you’re fully healed…” his stupid smile made you get all hot and you turned around so that he couldn’t see your face for your reaction, but the very action told him everything that he needed to know.

“so do you think you could also help me up then walk be back to the palace to announce our victory and our relationship?”

“you hurt your arm, not your legs, so you don’t need my help to go back! also, we aren’t even a couple yet, there’s nothing to announce!”

“not a couple yet? so you admit that we will be someday?”

“oh, you’re insufferable!”

his cheeks ached a bit from all the smiles and laughter, able to ignore the pain like it was a mere paper cut thanks to the amusement teasing you has brought him. the day you’ll be his and he’ll be yours (although he always was yours) is close, he could feel it— and he’ll gladly milk this minor injury as much as he can if it means bringing that moment closer to him by spending more time with you.

[cloudzoro]

Boss | Smoker ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: smut (minors dni)

pairings: smoker x fem reader

wc: 1.4k (short and sweet)

cw: fem!reader, relationship between boss and subordinate, office sex, dialogue heavy

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

this was actually requested as part of my prompt event !

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your boss, Smoker, had sounded irate when he had called you to his office via transponder snail. A mission clearly hadn't gone his way, and you wondered why he would need your assistance. You were a marine captain; you had initially joined the Marines to make some money for your low-income family back home and naturally just worked your way up the ladder.

You were in the middle of a horrible date when Smoker called you in, so you considered it a blessing in disguise. Your heels click on the floors of the marine base as you approach the doors of Smoker's office. When you push the doors open, Smoker is sitting in his chair with his feet kicked up on the desk, jacket completely removed, leaving him shirtless. It's wholly inappropriate to ogle at your boss, but the smirk on his face tells you that he doesn't really mind.

“The fuck are you wearing?” he asks, eyes raking over your body.

“I was on a date”, you say, and the cocky smirk immediately falls from his face. “The guy was a loser, though, so I'm glad you called me in”, you add, feeling more at ease when his scowl relaxes slightly. There's a beat of awkward silence before you speak up again.

“Why did you call me, Vice Admiral Smoker Sir?” you ask. Smoker clicks his tongue at the added titles.

“How many times have I told you, Captain? You either call me Smoker or Sir. Pick one and stick to it,” He instructs. You nod obediently, muttering a ‘yes Sir’. Smoker pushes his chair back slightly, planting both heavy boots on the ground, and gestures for you to sit on the edge of the desk. “Mission didn't go well today. There were a lot of shitheads who couldn't follow basic instructions. They let a target get away, and the blame for their fuck up fell back on me,” he grumbles, gently placing his warm palm on your thigh. “I need my most trusted subordinate to make it all go away.”

“Yes, Sir” He leans back in his chair as you launch forward, taking the cigars from his mouth and placing them in the ashtray on the desk. You watch him exhale the last of the smoke as you strip down. This relationship started several months ago, and though it's so wrong to fuck your boss, it feels so good. Once you're down to your underwear, you lean in to aggressively kiss him. He shamelessly moans as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. One of his hands comes up to grip the back of your head, and the other grabs the back of your thigh to pull you onto his lap.

You break the kiss, only to trail your lips down his neck. His shameless grunting as he bucks his hips up against yours has you uncomfortably wet. He's not subtle about his affections for you, and you know deep down you have genuine feelings for him, but he's your boss and a Vice Admiral. That's why you spend useless time going on dates you don't want to be on in hopes something will click and the thoughts of your muscular, sexy, caring boss will go away. Nothing has worked; you're still helplessly infatuated with him, and when he touches you, you only fall deeper.

“Please, Sir, I need you”, you whine as he slips a finger beneath the crotch of your panties, pressing his knuckle into your wetness.

“Yeah? You want me?” he asks, gripping the fabric and tearing it from your body, leaving you completely naked. “Well, if you want me so bad, come and get me,” he says, leaning back but keeping a hand firmly on your hip to steady you. You reach down to the button of his trousers. You momentarily stop yourself, realising that, as much as he may say so, he'll never be yours the way you want him to be. You shake off your thoughts and continue unbuttoning your boss's trousers.

Smoker, ever the perceptive man, notices your hesitation and grabs your arm, making you look up at him.

“What's wrong, y/n?” the use of your name instead of a title throws you, and you're not sure what to say next. You think that now, stark naked in your boss's office, isn't the right time for a confession, but Smoker knows you well enough to tell when you're lying.

“I want you, Sir. As more than whatever this is. I have feelings for you but we're coworkers, and technically speaking, you're my boss, so I know nothing can happen between us. This is so wrong.”

“So unprofessional”, he cuts off your confession. His tone is teasing, and there's a big smile on his face. His sarcastic comment shuts you up, and he rolls his eyes.

“Y/N, are you a grown-ass woman?”

“Yes, Sir”

“Do you want me as a life partner, not just as a Vice Admiral?”

“Yes, Sir”

“Please use my name and not my title when we're speaking about this”

“Sorry, sir- I mean Smoker.”

“Good. Do you want me to plant your cute little ass on my desk and fuck your brains out?”

“Fuck yes”

The grin that splits across his face as he lifts you and places you carefully at the edge of his desk is reflected on your face. Smoker is right; you're a grown ass woman who can make your own decisions.

“That's my pretty girl,” he says as he pulls his cock free from his trousers. He slides it between your folds, coating it in your juices. He's teasing you, pressing the head of his cock to your hole, then pulling away. You arch your back, trying to follow him.

“Please, Smoker, just fuck me. I need your cock” He leans down to kiss you, and it feels completely different from anything you've felt when he's kissed you before. There's a real spark behind it. He slowly pushes his cock inside you, cooing at you as you adjust to the sheer size of his cock. When you're all ready, he starts trusting, pulling his hips back and heavily snapping them back into you. You're sure you'd be sent halfway across the desk if Smoker didn't have such an iron grip on you.

“How could you ever think you couldn't have me when you're clearly made just for me? Don't you feel that, sweet girl? Feel how perfectly we fit together?”

You're overwhelmed by how quickly everything has happened. Minutes ago, you were agonising over not being able to have Smoker, and now he's fucking your brains out and confessing he reciprocates. You're close to the edge, sensitivity heightened by emotions and how your boyfriend talks to you.

“I promise you. After I make you cum on my cock, I'll get you dressed and take you home so I can fuck you nice and properly in an actual bed. And I suppose we can talk about our relationship too,” he grunts out, struggling to talk while your pussy clenches around him.

A well-aimed heavy thrust sends you over the edge, and you pull Smoker into a passionate teeth-clashing kiss. He soaks in all of your moans, considering them a confirmation of his promises. When he pulls away, pulling his still-hard cock out of you, you whine and go to protest that he hasn't cum yet, to which he grabs your chin and tilts your head up towards him. He quickly pecks your lips before assuring you he'll be taken care of when you get home. He helps you redress, tucks himself back into his trousers and grabs his bag to walk home with you. When he gets to the door, he stops, turning to push you up against the wooden slats.

“Listen to me, Y/N. Don't listen to what anyone else has to say. We're both grown ass adults. All that matters is what I think and what you think. I think I like you, and I wanna take you home. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it, teasingly tapping your chin as if pondering his question. He scoffs at your behaviour, rolling his eyes before breaking into a soft smile, giving away that he finds you amusing.

“I think I'd like that,” you say, grabbing his hand and letting him pull you out the door.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48

taglist is always open!

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[bad268]

I remember you said you’d be so down if clingy Kimi became a series so here’s another “clingy” kimi request.

Kimi antonelli w a short reader. (She’s not short she’s just average size but he’s not convinced).

He’s picking her up any chance he gets to, he’s kissing her forehead and treating her like a stuffed animal. His behavior is prominent during f2 when Kimi gets a DNF coz something went wrong w the car. When he gets to the garage, he rushes to look for reader and when he finds her he’s picking her up and making a beeline to drivers room for a cuddle and reassurance.

"Average" (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Short-ish! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe (can be read as a stand-alone)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I didn't make being short a plot, but it's there lol)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1053

Summary: Kimi needed some reassurance after that race (and you're never leaving his side).

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Immediately after the race, it was like you could not get a second to yourself. It was normal to you, but for some reason, this race brought out a whole different level of cling out of Kimi. 

This DNF was not something he needed when he was in the title fight. However, it was only the sprint race! He would be starting on the front row for the feature race. Still, it was not fun to have to retire when your breaks start smoking in any situation.

You knew as soon as you saw that Kimi’s car was smoking that you were not going to have any personal space for the foreseeable future. It was not something that happened a lot, but when it did, you had no objections. 

He made his way out of the car after parking up in the garage, so the mechanics could get started on it and hopefully, fix the brakes before the feature race. Immediately after his helmet and balaclava were off, he was searching for you. You were not standing in your normal spot in the back of the garage, so he had to do a little bit of searching.

It did not take too long as he found you standing with Toto and Susie at the pit wall. He walked straight up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he listened to a couple of his team talk about the plan for tomorrow. Eventually, you could feel him getting restless just standing there, listening to all of the things that went wrong and what he would need to be aware of tomorrow. You subtly gave a look to Antoine, and he immediately caught on, letting you two go. That’s when Kimi turned his attention to Toto and Susie. 

“I’ll do better tomorrow, I swear,” Kimi sighed as he looked at them and fidgeted with his (and your) hands. 

“That’s not necessary, Kimi,” Toto said immediately, “It’s not your fault. It’ll be fixed for tomorrow, and we’ll get to see your real potential then.”

“Thank you,” He smiled as he turned to you. “I think now’s a good time to head out, right?”

You nodded, knowing what was next. He placed his arms on the back of your thighs, and he prompted you to jump into his arms. The team was used to it at this point, having been witnesses to this earlier in the season, but you had long since cared about their thoughts of it. You would do anything to make Kimi feel better, and if being as close to you as physically possible made that happen, you would not stand in his way.

He carried you back to his driver’s room. It was a ritual at this point. He would retire the car, pick you up, and then you two would hide away in his driver’s room and watch a show or movie until the race was over. 

He set you down on the couch before going off to take a shower and change while you took out your laptop. It was always the same movie that cheered him up, so you queued it up while you moved to grab a water and snack.

Of course, Kimi. being the taller mf he is, put all of your favorite snacks on the top shelf. And sure, you could get a chair and grab them yourself, but you heard the shower turn off. It would take longer to find a chair, grab the food, get down, and put the chair away than it would to just wait for Kimi to grab them for you.

It did not take long for him to come out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He was also holding a Prema hoodie, but you knew he would give it to you. You just stood by the shelves of snacks, pouting and waiting for Kimi to notice you. He set the hoodie on the couch before he saw where you were standing.

“Are you too short to reach?” He chuckled lightly as he slowly walked over to you, easily grabbing the snacks from over your head.

“I’m not short,” You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he grabbed the snacks. “I’m average. You’re just tall.”

“Pff, ‘average’,” he tsked as he shook his head, “Whatever helps you get by.” He then turned to wrapping one arm under your arms to lift you up and carry you to the couch. He set you down, helping put the hoodie over your head. Then, he went to grab all of the snacks to put them on the coffee table. Kimi laid down behind you and pulled you down to lay on his chest. “Is this okay?”

“If it makes you feel better, it’s perfect,” You whispered as you placed a small kiss on his jaw before resting your head on his chest and carding your fingers through his hair. “You know tomorrow will be better right?”

“Yeah,” He sighed as he fidgeted with the hem of your (his) hoodie. “It just sucks when the head of your future team is watching you retire the car and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“You may not be able to do anything about it now, but what you told the team will help them solve the problem for the feature. You’re on the front row tomorrow, and everyone knows that P2 has the best line into turn 1. It’s better the car retired for the sprint race.”

“You’re right, when are you not?” He laughed as he planted a kiss on your forehead before leaning forward to press play on the movie. “Seems like you always know what to say in these kinds of things.”

“I just know you, and what makes you feel better,” You chuckled with him. “Plus, deep down, you know that it wasn’t your fault. And you know that tomorrow will be better. I’ll be there for your prerace ritual, so no bad luck for the feature race.”

“You’re not leaving my side ever again,” He teased as he held you tighter against his body. “At least, during a race weekend. I’ll carry you around if I have to.”

“You already do, so it wouldn’t be any different.”

~~~

Part 3 ->

Series masterlist

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[hoshinasblade]

Can I hear your thoughts on calling Soshiro the wrong name? Like when I first got into the kn8 fandom, I could never get Soshiro's name right. It's always "Seishiro" as in Nagi Seishiro from Blue Lock 💔. I wonder what his reaction would be to hear his partner calling him a diff guy's name 🤔

this ask has the potential to cause so much mayhem anon, thank you for sending through

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader content warnings: none, just a bit suggestive at the end, established relationship this is super short, but hopefully you like it! my ask is open again for requests but be warned that replies will be delayed. it takes time for me to write, and if i dont immediately vibe with the prompt, that makes it harder for me. i will always reply though because there is not a lot of hoshina stuff around here and i value people's ideas. thank you guys for understanding!

being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend has a lot of perks.

first of all, you had never felt safer anywhere you go when he is accompanying you - it's not that you treat him as your personal body guard, but he cannot help to act like one, always on the lookout to protect you. more than everything, nothing beats knowing the simple fact that you are dating an ultra-handsome killing machine who treats you like a princess.

the thing is, being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend also has some downside.

the worst of all is because the vice-captain is famous, it cannot be helped that women and a few men are all over him, competing for a crumb of his attention.

your smile disappeared when you saw another video from the social media influencer you mentioned to hoshina last week. it was a short edited footage of the vice-captain's brief interview after the most recent kaiju attack - his hair wet from perspiration, his long fingers trying to brush his bangs away from his eyes. how hoshina can still look ravishing after killing kaijus is a mystery for you as well - no one should be allowed to be that hot, you thought. "hoshina, date me," the caption reads in an annoying cursive font. you were going to scroll away when you noticed your own boyfriend's personal account among the few thousands who liked the clip - the icon of his profile is at the top of the list. you closed the app, formulating a plan to exact a cruel vengeance against hoshina.

the chance came that same night when hoshina dropped by your apartment for dinner. the entire week is for saving the country, hoshina would tell you, but weekends are always dedicated to movie marathons and cuddling until one of you falls asleep.

"what's the theme for tonight? any preferences?" hoshina asked, pressing buttons in the remote control as he goes over the directory of tv series and chick flicks. "i'm thinking something scary."

"you know if you are looking for a reason to snuggle with me, you can literally just say that, soichiro." there was no change in your tone as you delivered the line, biting the insides of your cheek so you won't burst out laughing. keeping a straight face was not that difficult because hoshina seemed to ignore you.

"the conjuring, then." hoshina sat beside you in the couch after choosing a title, his right arm going around your waist as he leans into you.

you rested your head on his shoulder a bit and inhaled lightly the scent of his shirt. "you smell nice, soichiro."

hoshina's arm dropped faster than you would have expected, and when you glanced at him, you wondered if you had taken this game a bit too far.

"right, what did i do this time?" hoshina did not bothering the show playing in the television, the opening credits rolling in the screen.

"what do you mean?" your words were hurried because you feel you were going to explode in giggles. it is absolutely funny how the most skilled close-quarters combatant of the defense force can react so strongly to being called a different name.

"come on, you calling me by my brother's name is infuriating enough already. you doing it again is just hurting my feelings now. you're never mean without a reason. what is this about?" hoshina's face is earnest now and admittedly, you felt a tiny tinge of guilt.

you sighed. "i don't know, maybe your fans wouldn't be calling you the wrong name. you should date them instead." it came out of your mouth too bitter, but you could not take your statement back. trust has never been an issue between you and hoshina in the years you were together, but you don't suppose it is wholly your fault when you get affected by little things like this.

"if i wanted to, i would," hoshina answered calmly. "but obviously, i don't. because here i am, proposing we watch something scary so you could snuggle with me."

you chuckled and that finally eased the tension. "i'm sorry. i did not mean to ruin our night," you confessed. "i swear to pretend i'm scared of the ghost in the movie so i can cuddle closer to you."

hoshina's eyes carry a certain sparkle whenever he smiles. he leaned on you again then grabbing your hand, linked your fingers together.

"hey, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you, you know that, right? and i'll always try to do better by you," he said before kissing you.

you and your boyfriend never finished the movie but at least by the end of the night, hoshina had made sure you call him by no one else's name by making you moan his.

[kannouo]

Bennett Dupe

fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers & dateables x gn!reader warnings: none summary: the brothers and dateables with an extremely unlucky mc. prompt by @snoogeewoogee: as a contrast to super lucky MC, an MC who’s super UNLUCKY like Mammon refuses to take them gambling- like on their first day of R.A.D, when they come through the portal and they just immediately face plant 😭 (Could this include the brothers and the dateables if that’s ok? If it’s easier for you you can only just do the brothers!! Sorry if my request isn’t clear it’s my first time trying it-) A/N: your request was perfectly clear, don't worry about it! and i included all of the characters you asked for. forgive me for the title. also, i literally just looked up "bad luck superstitions" and tried to incorporate some into these hcs, so if some things seem random thats why lol.

LUCIFER

• From the moment you first stumbled through the portal to the Devildom and landed face-first on the solid ground, nearly breaking your nose in the process, Lucifer knew you were going to be a headache.

• At first, he thought you were just clumsy. You'd bang your knee on the dinner table almost every time you stood up, tripped over yourself more times than he could count, and managed to break several vases and plates within the first month of your stay that you had to replace.

• He quickly noticed that it wasn't just carelessness, however. No — bad omens and misfortune seemed to follow you everywhere you went.

• As strangely excited you appeared to be when a magpie flew into your room through an open window, Lucifer couldn't help but be suspicious when as soon as he shooed the bird out of the house, it was immediately followed by some of the heaviest rain he's seen in years despite the forecast having predicted clear skies.

• Lucifer learned very quickly that you essentially required a bodyguard to protect you from... yourself.

• All windows are shut, locked and covered during a lightning storm, and you are to stay within his sight at all times just in case. He or one of his brothers are to escort you to and from RAD as well as between classes to prevent you from accidentally walking out in the middle of a brawl between two demons. He scours the halls and every classroom you've been in after every school day because you somehow always leave something behind. He baby-proofs most sharp edges and corners in the house because you just keep hitting your head against them.

• But despite the grey hairs you give him, he finds you've clumsily made yourself at home in his heart anyways.

• Life has truly dealt you a bad hand — but you still carry on, and with so much enthusiasm. Perhaps it's how upbeat you are, even when you come home soaking wet as it suddenly started raining the moment you stepped one foot out of RAD. Perhaps it's how willing you are to offer your help, and even when it blows up in your face as it so often does, you don't give in until you're able to complete what you set out to do.

• You've helped him and his family an indescribable amount, all while it seemed like fate itself was working against you. He respects and — dare I say — admires you for it.

• He tries to sprinkle in some good omens throughout your day-to-day life. Even if they go unnoticed, he hopes they will help, even if it just means you won't end up getting hit by a stray baseball that day. Ouch.

"MC," you jump as you hear Lucifer's voice sound from behind you. You spin around, almost tripping over yourself as you do so and having to steady yourself against the wall. "Uh— yeah?" He just stares at you for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he lets out a sigh and walks closer, pulling a folder out from his jacket. Your eyes widen as you recognise it — that's where your Seductive Speechcraft work went! You take it from his hands and excitedly hop towards him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, which he simply accepts. "Thank you! Ah, I can't believe you found it!" "Yes, well, be more careful in the future." He warns as you back away again. You nod and give him a smile, but he doesn't seem particularly convinced. Then he looks down. "...Your shoes are untied, by the way." Oh.

MAMMON

• Not only did you almost trip multiple times and step in every possible puddle on your way to the House of Lamentation with him, but you also managed to get your clothes stuck in the gate leading into the front lawn, causing your RAD uniform to rip.

• Geez human, did you open an umbrella indoors before you came here or somethi— Did you just hit yourself in the face with the front door? How did you do that?

• You're so unlucky it actually astounds him for a moment, and then that astonishment quickly morphs into annoyance. He's meant to be responsible for your safety while you're here, which was enough of an inconvenience, but now it looks like you have the entire world out to get you. How is he supposed to keep you safe from yourself?

• As a result of you constantly getting hurt, put in harm's way or losing important items, Mammon gets in trouble with Lucifer a lot at the beginning. Lucifer isn't buying his excuses that you're just "really, really unlucky," so he ends up being subjected to multiple of his older brother's lectures within the first couple weeks of your arrival.

• As a result of this... he kind of resents you at first. You being here only serves to make his life harder. Don't worry though, this doesn't last long.

• Hearing a series of bangs and shouts coming from the kitchen that sounded suspiciously like you, he rolls his eyes and makes his way over with a scowl on his face. Standing in the doorway, he could see the absolute mess you'd made. Ingredients knocked over and spilling all over the counters and floor, the burnt countertop, and the damp cloth hastily put over the top of the frying pan, suggesting it'd caught on fire.

• "The hell happened?"

• "I was... I was trying to cook a meal for you," you explain sheepishly. "You've been looking after me since I first came here, and I wanted to thank you, but... well..."

• "...Really? Aw... Uh... hey, it's okay, just clean this up, alright? Actually— no. Don't touch anythin'. I'll just do it for ya."

• After that incident, he starts to realise just how hard you try. Yes, your bad luck streak causes issues for him too, but it never fully clicked in his mind just how out of your control it was. He switches from being annoyed by you to feeling really sorry for you in an instant.

• Instead of treating it like a chore, he now willingly stays by your side almost 24/7. Unless he's going gambling. He took you to a casino with him once and nearly lost his entire life savings in record time. Lesson learned.

• Mammon will also look into good omens that are supposed to boost luck. He usually uses them for himself, but he can only take so much of seeing you somehow bruise or scrape your knees every single time you go outside.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's genius! Dont'cha think so too, human? I'll be rich— practically drownin' in grimm!" "Uh, Mammon—" "—Of course that dumb stick-in-the-mud Lucifer 'forbade' me from doin' it, but whatever, I'll prove him wrong!" "—Mammon?" You tap his shoulder to get his attention and he finally stops, turning his head to look at you. "I, uh... My wallet's gone." He blinks at you and then glances around. The streets of the Devildom get fairly busy every evening, and the crowd is a perfect cover for a pickpocket. Mammon of all people would know. "...Dammit."

LEVIATHAN

• He first notices when you two were executing that plan to force Mammon into a pact with you.

• You managed to get the information out of Lucifer, sure, after it seemed like every demon in RAD was going the opposite direction as you all at once, causing you to get lost a couple times before you found your classroom again. But when the both of you met up in the kitchen to find Mammon's precious credit card... you just kept dropping the damn thing.

• He knows the ice it's stuck in is slippery, but at least hold it for a few seconds! And how the hell did you manage to jam your finger in the freezer door?!

• The human's cursed LOLOLOL. He has enough misfortune in his daily life already, especially these days when it seems like all the most promising anime get cancelled or abandoned after the first season. He won't go anywhere near you at first.

• However, when you're one of the only people to show genuine interest in his rants about various tv shows, anime and manga, he starts to feel bad for avoiding you. I mean, it's not like you're trying to have so much go wrong in your daily life...

• He slowly warms up to you and even invites you into his room to play games and watch anime with him! Though, he kind of had to learn his lesson the hard way after the first time he had you watch you an unfinished show, because the moment you started getting really into it, its cancellation was announced the next day. At least you had him to share the pain with.

• Levi tries his absolute best to show you the ropes when he plays video games with you, but even if you know the controls like the back of your hand, you just cannot win. Not even if you're teamed up with him.

• You accidentally caused him to lose his minecraft bedwars win streak once and you're still not entirely sure he's over it.

• Don't get me wrong, he really enjoys hanging out with you. Even if the controller he gave you keeps somehow running out of battery even though it was fine a moment ago, even if he's unable to finish any co-op game with you because you just cannot get past the first stage, and even if you once gave him the fright of his life by accidentally breaking the glass to Henry 2.0's tank...

• You're still his Henry, his player 2. He'll deal with all of the fallout of your bad luck if it means he gets to spend more time with you.

"Left! Left! MC, you're going the wrong way!" "I'm pressing left! It's not working!" You argue, and Levi quickly grabs the controller from you. He fiddles with it a bit, then huffs. "It's broken," he whines. "Hooow?! I give you a charger so it won't die on us again, and it breaks instead?" He flops down onto his back, covering his face with his hands. Before you can apologise, he peeks at you through his fingers and speaks up again. "I— uh— just to be clear, it's not your fault, normie. I mean, you didn't do anything, so... W—whatever, it's not a big deal. I'll just buy a new controller, and... you can... watch me play for now, I guess."

SATAN

• I mean, you would have to be pretty extraordinarily unlucky to be the one human picked to come to literal hell.

• When he first saw you stumble out of the portal and unceremoniously faceplant on the ground, he couldn't help but laugh. He quickly hid it behind his hand and his brothers quietly scolded him, but even Asmo's slaps to his shoulder didn't stop him from finding your misfortune very amusing at first.

• Before he forms much of a connection to you, he essentially uses your unlucky nature as a form of entertainment.

• He feels bad looking back on it — but come on, watching someone trip, fall directly into a puddle and then somehow drop their DDD down a drain is pretty funny in a messed up kind of way. It was like everything in your daily life was orchestrated to go wrong in the most comically elaborate ways.

• Sometimes he handed you random fragile items from around the house to observe how long it'd take for you to break it. It pissed off Lucifer, which only encouraged him to do it more.

• Eventually, he came to the same realisation the others did. After observing how your luck affected you for a while, he noticed just how much of a victim to your own misfortune you are, and started to feel very bad for you.

• He treats you much better now and no longer treats your luck as a source of comedy, but that doesn't mean he can't still find joy in it. Like when black cats just happen to cross your path almost every time you go outside. A "bad omen"? Maybe for you.

• You have to question his decision making skills when he declared you a part of the Anti-Lucifer League with him and Belphie. He insisted over and over again that it was fine, that they both want to include you in their plots. And as sweet as that is, you can't help but notice how miserably all of their schemes fail if you even happen to be close by.

• Lucifer doesn't even have to do anything. Your participation guarantees his safety. Any curses they try to use backfire on them. When they try to slip something disgusting into his food or drinks, the plate or cup always somehow gets mixed up with their own. If they're planning some kind of stealth mission, they always, always get caught, because Lucifer or one of the other brothers just happen to be in the right place at exactly the right time to catch them.

• As absolutely infuriating this is to Satan, he just grins and bears it, because he loves you and would feel terrible about excluding you now.

• He'll absolutely go looking for rare spells or enchanted objects meant to act as good luck charms and gift them to you.

Satan stares into space, his face red from both embarrassment and seething rage. You remain a cautious distance away from the net he managed to get caught in, prepared for him to turn into his demon form at any moment, but he doesn't. He just sits there, stuck in his own trap. You cringe. "...Maybe I really shouldn't participate next time." Satan looks down at you and you can see the fury in his eyes that he tries to quell with a deep breath and a forced smile. "No, it's alright. We want you here," he says, and it's the same line you heard the last time his prank against Lucifer backfired on him too. "Get me down now." Despite the fact he's trying his hardest to stay calm for your sake... you get the feeling he can't do so for much longer. You nod and advance, hoping you'll be able to get him down without making the situation even worse.

ASMODEUS

• Gasp! Oh, dear, are you alright?! Your beautiful face—!! Satan, stop laughing!

• He might have scolded the fourth-born for laughing at you, but to be honest, he was biting his tongue to keep from giggling as well. He didn't mean anything by it, it was just so comical the way you fell out of the portal. He'd never seen such a terrible landing.

• Makes a joke about how you should be careful not to break any mirrors around the House of Lamentation — it's seven years of bad luck, you know — but it isn't a joke anymore when the first time you set foot in his room, you accidentally break one of his prized full-length mirrors. An angry Asmodeus is a force to be reckoned with.

• He was pissed at first, yes, but when you apologise later on, he sighs and tells you it isn't your fault. It was just a silly little mistake. But you're not allowed inside of his room again, sorry.

• As he gets to know you better, he soon comes to the conclusion (entirely on his own) that all of these dilemmas will surely be solved with a little bit of Asmo in your life!

• He thinks of himself as a good luck charm and will try to cling right to your side whenever he can. It doesn't necessarily work, you still end up accidentally breaking most things you touch and tripping over nothing, but Asmo being with you 24/7 just means that you have another pair of eyes looking out for you. So even if it doesn't have the effect he thinks it does, it's still a huge help.

• He clashes with Mammon even more as a result of this, however, which is not so good.

• "MC don't need ya constantly hoverin' around them! They already got me — I'm the one supposed to be lookin' out for them!" "Well you clearly haven't been doing a very good job! You should've seen the bruises on their legs—" "Uh, guys? My shoe is stuck in this mud..."

• Asmo also doesn't appreciate how most of his... "quality time" with you tends to get interrupted before it even begins. One day he's going to absolutely lose it at whoever next barges into his room while he's trying to get it on with you.

• He's the perfect person to go to whenever your clothes somehow get ruined. No matter if they rip or just have a stain that won't come out, he'll either fix it or give you a brand-new outfit.

"How did your uniform get ruined again already? Didn't I just fix it for you the other day?" Asmo asks as he holds the ripped fabric up in front of him. You look down at your feet bashfully. "Sorry..." Asmo clicks his tongue and gives you a smile. "Don't apologise, honey," he pats your cheek affectionately and you tilt your head back up to face him. "I'll sew it right up again. I'll even add a cute pattern. That'll encourage you to be a little more careful next time, right? ♡"

BEELZEBUB

• He was too distracted by his hunger to notice how you fell down the moment you stepped out of the portal at first. He only realised when everyone else stirred up a commotion about it, otherwise he would have made an effort to catch you.

• Similarly to the lucky!MC headcanons, Beel likely won't piece all of the unfortunate events that seem to surround you together. He notices that you always come home soaking wet, he notices that you always seem to forget to bring something to RAD with you, and he notices that whenever you sit at the dining table, everyone becomes strangely prone to dropping and spilling their salt. But he separates these moments in his head and doesn't realise they're all connected.

• Again, it will have to be pointed out to him. After that, he'll put it all together and become doubly protective of you.

• He's pretty good at pointing out and putting a stop to unlucky situations before they even happen.

• "Watch out, your shoes are untied again." "Those stairs look slippery, take my hand." "Your jacket is stuck in the gate — don't move, I'll get it for you."

• Of course, your unluckiness effects him too, but he isn't really bothered by it. He's so unbothered that you aren't even sure he realises you're the reason why you both keep getting served the wrong dishes whenever you go out to eat together.

• Also, this man is a tank. He'll just catch you whenever you're about to slip, but he won't ever fall down himself. Not even fate can cause Beelzebub to topple over.

• Also, due to his protective nature, he tends to act as a literal meat shield. Any stray rocks that would have hit you now just pelt him on the arm and somehow get broken in half. Any cyclists who would have crashed into you are forced to an abrupt stop as Beel stands in front of you. You're even protected from sudden spells of rain because he'll hover beside you and cover your head with his huge jacket.

• Gets really sad on your behalf whenever you drop your ice cream cone. He even tries to offer you his sometimes, which you can never bring yourself to accept because you know how hungry he is.

"Oops," you hear him utter as he swiftly catches you in his arms before you can fall to the ground. He picks you up and places you back down on your feet like a doll. "Are you okay?" "Uh..." A little stunned from the sudden adrenaline rush of almost falling flat on your face, you take a moment to respond. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you." He shakes his head. "It's fine," he says and roughly pats your head. "I'll walk you home. It just started raining a couple minutes ago, even though Lucifer said there wouldn't be any... Weird." "...Yeah, weird."

BELPHEGOR

• He could probably hear you trip up and down the stairs to the attic multiple times as you made your way to and fro pre-lesson 16.

• Back then, he either didn't care or found it annoying. Now, it's a mix of concerning and amusing.

• He was never a believer in superstitions, but he has to wonder, did you do something that pissed off fate itself? Did you commit an act that's supposed to be bad luck, like walking under a ladder or something? Were you born on the 13th?

• Belphie has to admit that, sometimes, your misfortune presents itself in hilarious ways. He snickers whenever you seemingly trip over nothing and makes fun of you when you somehow forget to bring your backpack to RAD. But the danger your luck lands you in is far less amusing.

• If he's awake enough by the time you return home from RAD, the first thing he does is ask if you got hurt. Whether it was by taking a particularly nasty fall or by being in the wrong place at the wrong time and getting involved in a dispute between demons, he doesn't care. He just wants to know, otherwise he'll be unable to stop worrying over it.

• As much as he loves using you as a pillow, all nearby alarm clocks need to be put away or they'll, for some reason, malfunction and keep going off every 5-10 minutes. It drives him insane.

• Also, about having you in the Anti-Lucifer League... he really does like having you at their group meetings, but he's been trying to convince Satan to let you go for a while now. He knows you mean well, but, I mean... literally nothing is getting done.

• It's the Anti-Lucifer League and they haven't managed to pull off a single Anti-Lucifer scheme in a year. He doesn't want to exclude you entirely, but maybe just... reserve the really good prank ideas for days when you're already busy?

• It's not like he brings that up often though. It makes Satan mad and Belphie would also feel just as guilty about bringing it up to you.

• If your bad luck happens to cause you nightmares, Belphie is the best person to go to. He can influence people's dreams, so as long as you agree to cuddle with him, he'll be there to make sure you dream of nice things.

"Uuuugh..." You blink your eyes open to the sound of a relentlessly beeping alarm clock and Belphie's frustrated groan from where he lay on your chest. Tired and disoriented, you've barely had any time to remember what day it is and where you are when you see Belphie's tail wrap around the offending alarm clock and pick it up. Then... CRASH. You watch as the alarm clock barrels towards the closed window and breaks right through the glass. Then, silence. Sweet, sweet silence, but... "Lucifer's gonna kill you." "At least there won't be any malfunctioning alarm clocks when I die," Belphie huffed and buries his face back into your chest. You're unsure how he can even breathe like that. "Go back to sleep."

DIAVOLO

• Very startled when you fall flat on your face through the portal.

• Did he somehow summon you incorrectly, or in a bad position? No? You just... happened to collapse like that? Oh.

• After making sure that initial fall didn't do any serious damage, he, like Lucifer, assumed you were just a clumsy person. Because of this, he asked Mammon to keep an extra-close eye on you — something he knew you were going to need but didn't yet realise just how vital it would become.

• He was very glad he gave that order when he was informed of an incident in which you nearly walked out right in the middle of a brawl between two students at RAD. If Mammon hadn't been there to pull you back in the nick of time, your head probably would've been taken right off your shoulders. He enforces an even stricter no-violence policy in RAD after that.

• Of course, demons are demons and even if they have respect for their King, a rule against fights isn't going to stop them from breaking out. So the best he can do is try and aid the brothers in keeping an eye out for you. Mostly with the help of Barbatos.

• Despite taking your safety very seriously, it might not seem like he does considering his amusement at many of the unfortunate situations you seem to land yourself and the people around you in. Even if your bad luck ends up impacting him, he's more likely to find the inconvenience funny rather than frustrating.

• You have accidentally planted a curse on yourself more than a couple times during an enchantments and spells class that Diavolo has had to help in removing. Because of your tendency to do this — and the strange phenomenon of the spells that are afflicting you being somehow too strong to be removed by the brothers — he altered your schedule to make it so you don't attend classes where transformation spells or potions are involved.

• It's probably for the best, to be frank. If you did attend those classes you'd somehow end up as a block of cheese before long.

• Diavolo is another one who will look into good-luck charms and omens to help you with. He actually probably knows a few, he just never had to use them until now, and they work splendidly.

You blankly stare up at the skies of the Devildom as if to glare at whatever being decided it should start pouring with rain the moment you set foot out of RAD's main building. You sigh, pulling your jacket over your head as you prepare to make a run for it, when you suddenly hear a voice behind you. "How strange," Diavolo booms, and you can't help but jump a little. He holds his hand out into the rain as if to test it, even though it's visibly teeming it down. "It was clear skies just a moment ago. I assume you don't have an umbrella?" "...No. Do you?" "No, I seem to have left mine behind as well. I suppose we'll both have to hurry, then." He smiles, and you get the feeling he's enjoying this far more than you.

BARBATOS

• "The second human exchange student is going to make quite an entrance. It's best you be prepared for it, Young Master."

• I mean, he did try to warn him. Vaguely. Kind of.

• He's stated himself that he doesn't use his powers of future-sight constantly because it would make life boring. So although he does sometimes predict your misfortune before it happens and takes steps to prevent it, he can't always be there in time to stop unlucky situations in advance. Still, he's good at noticing and pointing things out himself without the use of his powers.

• Somehow manages to be very graceful about it. Like, you'll just be walking alongside him and in one swift movement he catches a stray pebble headed your way in his palm, tosses it to the side and encourages you to keep on walking. It's like, weirdly attractive?

• Other than that, he keeps a close eye on you, but you won't even know most of the time. He's literally one with the shadows.

• You'll be walking around the Devildom, blissfully unaware, when suddenly some random hell-beast ends up charging at you down the street. Before you can even react, Barbatos just... appears and seems to immediately have the creature tamed. His glare frightens even the most terrifying of predators.

• He'll then turn his head to look back at you, smile, and tell you to continue on your way. Yes, he was following you the whole time. No, he will not tell you that. To your knowledge, he simply knew it was going to happen thanks to his ability of foresight, and teleported to your location right in the nick of time.

• Barbatos has literally no concerns about your luck affecting him because it just won't happen. Fate can try as hard as it can, the impeccable butler will not be caught off-guard or inconvenienced in his duties.

• He does have a specific fear about letting you around him while he's in the kitchen cooking or baking, however. You're generally barred from that area while he's there.

• You're still somehow safer company than Solomon, however.

• Is one of the best people to go to if you sustain an injury as a result of a bad fall or anything else, really. He's also usually the first person to show up when that happens, considering he shadows you for most of the day. If a demon is behind you getting hurt, he'll reassure you that the offender will be dealt with appropriately, but you don't actually know what that means and you're not sure if you want to.

"And then he—" You cut yourself off with a frightened yelp as a strong hand suddenly pulls you backwards, away from the road as a speeding car whizzes by your vision. Disoriented, it takes you a moment to realise you nearly got hit, and you watch in shock as the car continues barrelling down the road until it's out of sight. "Are you quite alright?" Barbatos asks and snaps you out of your frightened daze. Suddenly your legs feel weak, and your hands are visibly trembling from the adrenaline. "I did not mean to grab you so harshly. My apologies." "No, it... it's fine, you saved my life there..." Your voice shakes. "I, um..." He extends his arm as an offer for you to lean on him, and you gladly take it, needing the support. "...I'd... like to go back home now, I think..."

SIMEON

• Very, very concerned for your well-being. He wasn't there when you were first summoned, but he was told of the incident where you face-planted right after stepping through the portal and has also been witness to a few other unlucky incidents of yours.

• Once insisted on re-tying your shoelaces himself because they kept getting undone, only for you to trip over thin air a few seconds later, at which point he concluded the shoes weren't the problem.

• While he's still an angel, he's quick to give you a blessing. I imagine, even if it won't necessarily increase your luck, it helps protect you from specific dangers — like coming into contact with certain curses or attacks by lesser demons.

• As a human, he obviously can't bless you anymore, and he instead turns to Solomon in the hopes he can apply some sort of protection magic onto you. That, and he still has Luke's blessing to rely on — the young angel had insisted on giving you a blessing as well after he'd seen Simeon do it — that might not be quite as strong as his used to be, but is still potent enough to manage lighter threats.

• You once accidentally spilled an ink pot onto a page of a new story he was writing and he nearly cried. Don't worry, he forgave you right away when he saw just how guilty you felt, but the pain...

• Next to Barbatos, Simeon is also a very good person to come to if you get hurt. He may scold you a little, but he's damn good at pampering.

• If you really sell it, you can even convince him to "kiss you better", or just lay your head down on his lap as he strokes your hair. Even if he knows you're playing it up for his attention, he thinks it's endearing enough to go along with your antics anyway.

• Absolutely holds your hand like a chaperone whenever you two go out together. It's nice, but you getting lost is a genuine concern, so you also understand the reason behind why he does it. The last time he looked away from you for two seconds you got suddenly dragged into a crowd and he lost you for what may have been the most terrifying 5 minutes of his long, long life.

• He also likes to think holding onto you will help him catch you if you start to trip, when 9 times out of 10 it just means that when you go down, he's coming with you.

"I thought it was your knee that's hurting." "Mhm." "So, how exactly is me stroking your head going to help?" Simeon asks, a soft chuckle on his lips. Despite his questions, he's already lovingly threading his fingers through your hair anyway, which tells you he doesn't really mind. "Emotional support." "Mmmhm. Alright then."

SOLOMON

• Solomon... isn't going to be of much help.

• He finds your misfortune funny and, as your teacher, would much prefer you learn how to cast luck-enhancing enchantments yourself than do it for you. So, he doesn't really do anything to help with your bad luck. At least, that's what you think.

• In actuality, he absolutely does help, but he goes about it in a similar (but even more discreet) way than Barbatos. Not only does he shadow you and follow you around whenever he has the chance, but thanks to his prowess in magic, he doesn't even need to step in to save you. He'll have some kind of spell at the ready that will do it for him.

• Of course, sometimes it's more obvious than not when he's helping you. Like when you nearly fell face-first into the very edge of a table and suddenly started floating, you could probably come to the conclusion that it was Solomon's doing all on your own. But when it comes to subtler things, like a pebble under your foot suddenly disappearing or moving away on its own or a pencil you couldn't find re-appearing on your desk, you're unlikely to even notice.

• That being said, he does still find the unfortunate scenarios you land yourself in somewhat entertaining. He especially finds it funny when you're always somehow the one to get caught in Thirteen's traps meant for him.

• "Ahaha! Good thing you opened the door before me, huh?" He laughs as you rub your aching head where the bucket collapsed on you.

• "Solomon, I'm fucking soaked."

• Also, sometimes he'll just walk up to you, give you a bunch of ingredients and a vial and tell you to make a potion. It'll be a very simple potion and he'll give you basic instructions throughout, and you may be confused as to why he does this at first until you realise that no matter how perfectly you seem to follow the recipe, the potions always turn out wrong.

• By some miracle (reverse-miracle?), the concoctions you make always have an undesired finish or effect. Sometimes it's because your horrific luck caused something else to get in by accident, other times it's completely unexplainable. It's some kind of fascinating phenomenon to him and he will continue to experiment with just how extraordinarily unlucky you can get.

"Are you two alright?" You turn your head at the sound of a voice behind you. Satan does the same, but you can see the rage he's biting back become much greater at the sight of Solomon's face. The sorcerer looks up at the two of you, both caught in nets. "How did you manage to do this?" "He got caught, and when I tried to cut him out..." You fiddle with your sleeve, a little embarrassed. "...The back-up trap activated." "Get us out." Satan demands with a hiss, and Solomon meets him with a smile. "Alright. As long as there's no back-up, back-up trap."

[giveafike]

One where Jude and his girlfriend/wife go for a swim and she‘s scared? Thanks!

TLDR: Wife!reader x JudeBellingham on holidays, but he doesn't know about your fears.

Word count + info: 2.3k! Blurb! Tiny bit of Spanish incorporated, some dialogue too : )

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Mention of Thalassophobia + a panic attack, if that is a trigger, proceed w caution!! Otherwise, nothing more : ).

Azzie Notes ✚: HI!! First ever Jude ask here! I'm sorry it took me a while to get around to this req, anon! I hope I did it justice for you, I was struggling with writer's block for this prompt for some time, thinking how to flesh it out.

Also, I made a twitter ( @azziegivesafike !!) Feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

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Waves - J.B.

The sun hung high and lazily over the quiet Mediterranean countryside, casting long shadows on the rolling hills of olive trees and wildflowers. You and Jude had stolen away from the world, far from the roars and pressures, to a little coastal town where time felt like it had slowed down and life felt more gentle. Jude’s off-season was sacred, a time for just the two of you, to reconnect without the distractions of football, press, and the ever-present hum of expectations. No obligations. No noise. Just love.

It wasn’t out of character for Jude to plan some sort of surprise during your time together. Sometimes it was a romantic dinner; other times, it was a helicopter ride over a city. But this time, he had gone a step further, maybe even a step in the wrong direction.

You walked hand in hand down to the dock, the scent of saltwater thick in the air. Jude was rambling on, his voice bright with excitement. He had planned a surprise: a yacht, just for you two, to spend the day on the open sea. His voice lilted with that familiar Birmingham cadence, thick and warm like the breeze that carried your laughter.

“I’m tellin’ ya,” he said, his eyes glimmering as he spoke. “Pre-season training camp’s gonna be intense, but I’m already buzzin’ for it. New lads seem sound, and we’ve got a proper chance at the title this year.” His hand squeezed yours as you neared the marina, the glint of the water stretching endlessly ahead. “But none of that matters now. Today, it’s just you and me.”

You smiled at him weakly, though your heart had already started its familiar, uneasy thud in your chest. The yacht, sleek and pristine, bobbed gently on the water. All you could see was the endless expanse of ocean beyond, that shimmering surface stretching far beyond the horizon.

You had been trying to get better, to be better, to manage your fear. But this was a step far out of your comfort zone. You're not really sure what or when your fear of water had really sunk into you but all you could remember was that prickly, hot, sickly feeling when you stood near a deep pool or saw videos of massive waves engulfing everything around it. The anxiety is all too familiar, the numbness in your body taking over each time.

With Jude, you’d started dipping your feet into pools, sometimes even wading up to your hips, standing at the shallow end of Jude’s villa pool in Spain. But that had taken everything, deep breaths, quiet pep talks, and the promise that you were safe. It made you feel awful seeing Jude splash around, wide-smiled and unafraid, while you sat by, fearing you might accidentally fall into the pool if you dangled too far in. You felt as though you might even hold him back in that sense. You had convinced yourself that in this bubble with Jude and his quiet and still pool, you were secure and okay.

But here, staring at the open sea, none of that safety was present. Still, Jude’s excitement was infectious, his beaming smile too bright to dim with your fears, his big brown eyes shining. You bit your lip, your fingers twitching in his as your pulse began to race.

Jude caught up in his excitement had barely noticed. He was a great husband, always attentive but his excitement overcame was overcoming all his senses and thoughts.

“Just wait ‘til we’re out there,” he said as you boarded the yacht, the sun catching the sea in dazzling shards of light. “You’ll love it. The water’s clear, you can see the coral and fish. It’s so perfect. No one or nothing around, just us.”

You stepped aboard, the fabric of your sundress flowing in the salty breeze, trying to focus on his voice, his plans for the afternoon, his talk of peace and quiet. But as the boat moved further from the dock, the tether to the land slipped further from view, replaced by the endless, glassy water that stretched on all sides. The small town grew minuscule in the distance as if it was swallowed entirely by the rippling waves.

The boat stopped near a small private swimming spot, the crystal-clear water below revealing hints of vibrant coral and fish darting below the surface. You could see Jude’s eyes light up as he gazed down at the water, his joy palpable. He blabbered on about all sorts of fish he could see, how quick they were, how clear the water was; all of it wasted on your deaf ears as you tried to slow your breathing for the umpteenth time. You could barely nod along, but your heart now thundered in your chest, trying desperately to ground yourself in the conversation.

“Uh-huh, and what’s the coral like? Pretty?” you forced out, voice thin and tight.

Jude grinned, already pulling off his shirt, his skin gleaming in the sunlight. “Yeah, proper beautiful down there. You’ve gotta come in with me, babe. You’ll love it.” He gestured to the water as he stood on the edge of the boat, his excitement undiminished. “Look how clear it is!”

You gently rose and glanced down at the water, the clarity revealing the depths below, a whole world of coral, fish, and sand. Your breath caught.

How far down does it go? What’s lurking beyond what you can see?

The distance between you and the ocean floor felt infinite as you stood a few steps from the edge, a chasm of the unknown. You tried to distract yourself, to hold onto the sound of Jude’s voice.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you called back, your voice small, like it might shatter if you pushed too hard. “I’m good on the boat.”

But Jude had already dived in, his sleek form cutting through the water, disappearing for a moment before resurfacing with a joyful whoop. He tread water effortlessly, his laughter echoing across the calm sea. “Babe, you’ve gotta feel this, it’s like bathwater! Perfect day for a swim!”

Your stomach churned as you watched him, so comfortable in a place that made you feel so small. The water cradled him, bright and blue and endless, while you stood on the deck, now tiptoeing towards the edge, gripping the railing like it was your last anchor to safety. Your knuckles were white and your hands clammy as you peered down. The gentle sway of the boat beneath your feet seemed to pull you toward the water, a slow, inevitable tug that made your head spin. It was almost as though it was mocking you, the waves teasing you, the fish swimming in hypnotic patterns to try to pull you to them, the gentle waves hitting the boat as a threat; it was far too much stimulation.

Your thoughts became your enemies. That clear water, once serene, now felt like a mouth, gaping wide, ready to swallow you whole.

It’s so deep. The ground’s gone. You’re so far from land.

You tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on the warmth of the sun, the distant cry of a seagull. But the waves inside your head began to build, crashing over your mind in relentless surges.

Your pulse skyrocketed, your heart pounding like a drum inside your chest, each beat louder, more frantic. Your breath quickened, short, gasping. The air around you thinned, each inhale shallower than the last. You felt that bundle of knots twisting painfully, feeling sickly and disgusting inside, the feeling of sweat prickling against your skin, tears burning your eyes. The sounds around you went mute as your ears rung loud; you knew full well what was coming.

The boat, once a place of peace, now felt like it was moving beneath you, rocking harder, tipping you toward the water. Your grip on the railing tightened, your knuckles bone white, but the world blurred as though the sun itself had turned against you. It was too bright. The horizon was too far. Everything spun as if the boat was dissolving into the sea.

“Jude...” The word barely left your throat, choking on the tightness that had coiled around your chest. When you moved, your legs gave way, useless, wobbling like they no longer belonged to you.

You’re going to fall if you stay standing here. You’re going to drown.

Panic seized you.

It crashed into you like a tidal wave, slamming you against the rail, knocking the breath from your lungs. You staggered, your knees giving out, collapsing onto the deck, falling onto the small step rather than off the boat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air that wouldn’t come, the world shrinking to nothing but the wild, frantic roar inside your own head. The sensation was like drowning, without ever touching the water. You crawled and wobbled to the sunbed, digging your nails as you landed your hands on it. Your limbs were heavy and useless like they were trapped under an invisible current, the weight of it pulling you under.

Your cries felt muffled, swallowed by the sea of your mind. The world spun violently. Your vision blurred, darkening at the edges as your throat burned, air refusing to fill your lungs. The boat swayed, or maybe it was just you, thrown again and again against an invisible tide, your body curling in on itself. Your hair stuck to your face, tangled, distorting your vision as if the water had already risen up to surround you. You could feel it, cold, wet, suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Your limbs felt like dead weight, too heavy to move, too weak to fight.

You were drowning. Drowning on dry land.

The harder you fought to breathe, the more your chest constricted, the pressure unbearable, your vision narrowing to nothing but the dark tunnel in front of you. You couldn’t see. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe. The sound of your own gasps filled your ears, and the world dissolved into nothing but the relentless, terrifying roar of the panic gripping you.

Jude’s laughter stopped, his voice barely piercing through.

“Babe?”

His voice felt so distant, a muffled echo in the chaos of your mind. You barely registered the splash of water as he pulled himself back onto the boat, the pounding of his footsteps as he rushed toward you.

“Hey, hey, love, I’m here. I’m right here.”

His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with the warmth you desperately needed. His voice, once carefree, was now a steady anchor in the storm thrashing through you. He wiped away the tears you hadn’t even realised were falling, his thumb brushing your skin with gentle strokes.

“Shh, it’s okay, cariño. You’re okay. Breathe with me, yeah? Just breathe.” His forehead pressed gently against yours, grounding you, bringing you back to something real.

Your lungs ached, your chest still tight, but you fought to follow his words.

Breathe. Just breathe.

You struggled to match the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. His chest rose and fell against yours, a steady, calming presence. Slowly, painfully, your breath began to slow, the sobs leaving your mouth, the grip around your lungs loosening little by little.

“Eso es, my love,” he murmured, his lips brushing soft kisses across your forehead, through your hair. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.” His hands stayed steady on your face, never leaving, his voice a constant, unwavering presence, pulling you back from the edge. He swept your hair back, away from your face, rubbing circles on your back.

“I-I didn’t know that you were scared of- well I-,” he whispered, the guilt heavy in his voice. “I wish I had known. I should’ve known. God, I would never put you through something like this,” His voice cracked, and he hugged her tightly, pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her like a shield. “I didn’t see it. I really didn't know. I’m so sorry, cariño. I should’ve seen it.”

She let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling, but the worst of the panic had ebbed, her head resting against his shoulder, safe in the circle of his arms. She could feel the regret and sadness in every breath he took, his chest rising and falling with the weight of it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I never knew how...” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to ruin it for you, you were so excited, Jude.”

“You could never ruin anything for me,” he said softly, his lips brushing her temple. “Never. If I’d known, I would’ve never brought you out here, love. I’m such an idiot.” He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her tighter. “I should’ve realised. I was too caught up in everything…”

For a long moment, they stayed like that, her breathing finally steady, the calm returning as she clung to him, his solid, comforting presence pulling her back to herself. He kept whispering soft reassurances, holding her close until the panic had all but faded, replaced with the warmth of his embrace.

After a while, Jude pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and spoke softly. “I’m taking us back to land. Somewhere small, quiet, just us. Somewhere with your feet on solid ground, yeah?”

She nodded, breaking a small smile while tears still clung to her lashes, but she felt safe. “Somewhere dry would be nice.”

He smiled, kissing her one last time before getting up. “No more surprises, I promise. There's a little village close by, waiting for just the two of us.”

As the yacht turned back toward land, the pier coming into view in the distance, she knew that with Jude by her side, she could face anything.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Do It For Daddy

Title: Do It For Daddy

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Prompts: Jake Jensen + Female Reader + Daddy kink + “I told you, you would eventually start begging.” + Smut, requested by @bridgetina

Summary: Jake tries something new, showing you a different side of himself.

Warnings: CMNF (clothed male, naked female), Daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names for Reader (pretty girl, sweet girl), squirting, forced orgasms, goatee burn, p-in-v unprotected sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, aftercare, Jake being Jake

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Sweet Treats Event 2024 Masterlist

My Masterlist

Your clothing, long stripped off by Jake, lays in a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed. With your hands clutching the sheets below you, you start to whine. He’s nowhere near finished with you, though. You arch your back, inhale deeply, and mewl loudly as Jake’s nimble digits and quick tongue work you through your third orgasm of the night.

While your body trembles as you come down, Jake pulls off your puffy clit and licks his lips. Removing his fingers, he makes a show of tasting the slick coating of his fingers. Using the remaining wetness, he strokes his girthy cut cock as it hangs out of his jeans, which have been pushed down below his ass. His goatee is noticeably shiny with your arousal, and you can smell it in the air.

Jake’s voice breaks through the fog of your afterglow. “Don’t get too comfortable; Daddy’s not done with you yet,” he breathes, diving to suction his lips around your sensitive nub. His fingers collect moisture from your leaking slit and dip inside your tight heat.

Your hands migrate from the sheets to Jake’s blonde-frosted tips. Opening his smokey blue eyes, you watch as he squints to focus on your face. Why he insists on taking off his glasses during sex is still a mystery to you. Doesn’t he want to see you? When you tug at his hair, he gets the hint and moves up your body while his fingers continue their assault on your core. 

He hovers over your face, his swollen lips just a millimeter away, the unmistakable smell of yourself on his breath. Licking across your lips, he teases, then devours your whimpers in a passionate kiss. His tongue tangles with yours like two bodies dancing the tango; his fingers curl upward inside of you to massage your inner bundle of nerves.

He knows your body like no other, so he isn’t surprised when your breathing quickens. He anticipates you moaning into the kiss, pulling away so he can hear your sweet noises fully. His leaky red tip drips on your hip as your legs wrap around him. Your heels digging into Jake’s ass only spurs him on more to bring you over the edge.

“Yes! You’re right there, baby. Just let go and cum for me. That’s it, pretty girl. Do it for Daddy,” he coaxes, his whispered words the last thing you hear before the dam breaks.

Your walls clamp down around his digits; he groans and works you through your fourth release. The squelch of his fingers inside you as he continues to massage your g-spot fills the room for a moment. Jake thinks you’ve had enough for now and sits back on his haunches watching you in blissful euphoria.

With one hand on his hard length, the other is free to draw lazy designs across your hip and stomach. Within a few minutes, his hand dips lower and lower until he gently cups your mound. Dragging two fingers between your lower lips elicits a strangled moan from you. You sputter a couple of words that he can barely hear.

“What was that, my sweet girl?” He leans in closer, his hardness bumping into your swollen pussy lips.

You can’t help but hiss when his balls rub against the sensitive skin left behind by goatee burn. “Please, Daddy. Can’t take anymore,” you plead.

A shit-eating grin spreads across his face; clearly, he is happy with himself. “I told you, you would eventually start begging,” he purrs, tilting his head. “But I think you can take more.” He reaches for the lube on the bed, pouring a generous amount into his hand. Coating his cock in the sticky substance, he lines up with your entrance and pushes in slowly to allow you to get used to his intrusion.

Canting his hips, he slides out until just the tip remains, then thrusts in fully. He groans deeply and doesn’t waste any time fucking into you. Holding your hips in an iron grip, he pistons into you. Taking you apart from the inside out, he revels in the vision of your eyes rolling back in your head as your climax nears.

Jake’s hand moves from your hip to your clit as his thumb rubs the engorged button. The mixture of clitoral and vaginal stimulation has you speaking in tongues before long. When you hit your peak, you feel like you’ve never been higher. Stars explode behind your eyelids, and you can’t stop the sounds from escaping your mouth. When you try to cover your mouth, Jake tsks at you, and you know he wants to hear you, so you oblige him.

He fucks you, long and deep, hitting the right spot over and over until you gush down his cock and balls. As your wetness soaks the front of his jeans and the hem of his shirt, Jake grunts as he continues to pound into you. 

Soon enough, his hips stutter and he pushes in fully as his pulsing cock paints your walls in thick, milky ropes. He lets out a few expletives and tips his head back, tilting his head from side to side. Dipping his chin down, he catches his breath until he softens and slips free from your sore snatch. He watches as his jizz leaks from your thoroughly-used hole, then leans forward to rest the side of his face on your stomach. 

Your hands find their way into his sweat-soaked hair while you both come down from your highs. Once he can move his legs again, Jake stands and waddles to the bathroom, pants around his ankles. You hear him turn on the faucet for the bathtub. When he returns, pants worn correctly this time, he grabs his glasses from the nightstand. Turning to you, he picks you up and brings you to the tub, even though you halfheartedly protest.

You’re surrounded by lavender-scented bubbles, and Jake is eerily quiet while washing your neck and back. It’s only when you reach for his hand that he speaks. 

“So, hypothetically speaking, if you were to give this particular sexual experience a grade from one to ten—one, being the worst ever, and ten, being ‘dear God, please can we do that again’, what would you give it?”

You turn to look at him, sloshing the bath water a bit. You put a wet hand against his cheek and smiled lovingly before slapping him on the forehead. “Are you serious, dweeb? You made me squirt, and you must ask if I liked it?” Your eyebrows couldn’t possibly raise any higher on your forehead.

The gears turn in his head as he nods quickly. “Well, I ask because that was the hottest thing I have ever done in my entire life, and if there is even a hint of something that you didn’t like, I will change it immediately. I want to make sure that I’m doing it right.”

You grab him by the chin and bring him in for a kiss, then you pull back to look into his eyes. You think about starting this huge monologue on why he shouldn’t focus on ‘getting it right’, but instead paying attention to the experience itself. But your brain has been well and truly fucked out, and words are hard. So, instead, you settle on keeping it short, sweet, and to the point. “11 out of 10; would recommend,” you giggle, splashing water on him.

His face lights up, and a pink hue dusts his cheeks. You sense his confidence level rising with that little ego boost. Thinking of when he first brought up this scenario and how he stuttered and fought to get the words out is a pleasant memory. Your sweet nerdy boy is finally giving into his kinky side, and all you can do is daydream about the next dirty thought that comes to his mind.

A/N: This is the first time I have written Jake Jensen and boy, did I enjoy this manboy. I was nervous about the Daddy kink. I just didn’t think Jake would be a “calls himself Daddy” type. But, uh, I was wrong haha.

[weemssapphic]

Hi there :)

I was wondering if you would be open to writing a Larissa x Reader fic where reader is dealing with vaginismus? I don't ever see it discussed.

The details can be up to you.

Thanks!

hello! i don't want to say i'm back but like... half, maybe 🥺 tbf I know who sent this request, it's been a while since we've talked about this but thank you!!! so much!!!

for anyone who is unfamiliar with vaginismus, it's a condition where the vaginal walls contract involuntarily when anything (a dildo, a penis, a tampon, a finger, medical instrument... etc...) is inserted into the vagina. this makes the vaginal canal very narrow and can cause significant pain and anxiety. i highly recommend doing more reading if you haven't heard of it.

s.e.x.

Larissa Weems x virgin!reader

words: ~5k | ao3 link in title

content/warnings: pwp/smut (minors dni pls), virgin!reader, vaginismus, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

“Mmh… is this alright?” Larissa mumbles against your lips as her fingers toy with the button of your trousers, her other hand buried in your hair as she hovers over you in the center of her king-sized bed. 

You hum in affirmation, her breath hot against your lips as her tongue brushes against your own, drawing a deep moan from your chest. “You can take them off,” you murmur breathlessly, and Larissa smiles into the kiss as she swiftly undoes the button and drags the zipper down, her hand slipping into the open trousers and cupping your pussy. Her fingers press against the wet spot at the center of your underwear and her smile turns into a smirk.

“So wet,” she coos, the word sounding absolutely sinful as it drips from her lips and brings a fresh wave of arousal to your core, your underwear now absolutely soaked. Your head tips back against the pillows and you let out an involuntary whimper, your cheeks slowly but surely turning a lovely shade of pink at the embarrassment of being so deeply and utterly turned on simply from making out with Larissa.

The two of you have been seeing each other for a few weeks now and, while you’ve finally managed to wrap your head around the fact that she does, in fact, like you back, you still find yourself growing shy around the shapeshifter, your attraction to her somehow growing by the day. At first you’d been nervous to tell Larissa that you’ve never had sex before - but, as with all things, she took it in stride, assuring you that it didn’t matter to her and she’d let you set the pace. On the drive back to her apartment after dinner tonight, her hand on your thigh had prompted you to mention you think you’re ready, which prompted a heated makeout session against the back of Larissa’s front door that ended up leading straight to her bed.

Larissa’s fingers press down a little harder against your cunt, rubbing back and forth, before she retracts her hand from inside of your trousers and reaches for the waistband, giving it a gentle tug. You move your hips and help her to pull them down, kicking them off into a heap at the foot of the bed. 

Her hand lands on your lower belly, her pinky toying with the hem of your shirt as her lips leave yours and begin to trail along your jaw instead. Your skin feels like it could go up in flames at the slightest touch as Larissa’s hand slips beneath the fabric of your shirt and behind your back, fingers digging into your flesh as she holds you close and presses her torso against yours. 

Your back arches of its volition, your body burning with a need to get even closer to her, your fingers twisting in her updo as you let out an involuntary moan into her mouth. “Fuck, Riss…” you mumble as she gives your own hair a little tug, before she shifts slightly above you, straddling you and pinning you to the bed as her hand leaves your hair and falls to your hip. She soothes her palm up your torso, pushing your shirt up until her fingertips hit the underwire of your bra - she breaks the kiss and her gaze meets yours, and you’re certain you’ve never looked this aroused before in your life, and you nod as you realize that she’s silently asking for permission to take your shirt off.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as Larissa tugs your shirt over your head and tosses it carelessly aside, her eyes darkening as they roam your (almost) bare torso - it’s more of you than she’s ever seen, and she seems to be drinking it in intensely for a moment, before dropping her head to your chest and peppering open-mouthed kisses to the tops of your breasts that peek out from your bra, her hands soothing over your hips. 

Her lips feel heavenly on your tits but it’s not enough, and you reach behind your back as you arch off the bed to fumble with the clasp of your bra, which you quickly rid yourself of. Larissa looks up at you through her lashes, her lips curling into a pleased smile as she kisses her way to your right nipple, maintaining eye contact with you as she wraps her lips around the small pink bud.

It hardens almost instantly beneath her tongue, coaxing a moan from her throat that shoots straight to your core and makes you shiver in delight as your eyes fall shut. You can feel her fingertips start to toy with the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips without thinking, silently encouraging Larissa to pull it down. You feel her pause, her tongue stilling against your nipple, so you mumble out a “please, Larissa…” that motivates her to continue, tugging your underwear as far down your legs as she can without releasing your nipple from between her lips - you reach down and bend your legs to tug them off the rest of the way.

Opening your eyes, you realize that Larissa is still very much clothed, and it makes you blush profusely, feeling slightly exposed even in the dim light of the lamp in the corner of the room. “Your turn,” you whisper hoarsely, tracing your fingertips over a crease in the sleeve of Larissa’s dress.

She hums and releases your nipple with a pop, sitting up and making quick work of her dress and stockings before straddling you again, now only in her bra and underwear. “That better, darling?” she purrs, a smirk playing on her lips as she reaches behind herself to undo the clasp of her bra. You nod absentmindedly, barely registering Larissa’s chuckle as your eyes are glued to her chest. She allows the burgundy cups to fall from her breasts, exposing pale, supple skin, her nipples slowly and visibly hardening against the slight chill in the bedroom.

You cannot help the way your gaze traces her body - her defined collarbones and strong, freckled shoulders, a contrast to the softness of her breasts and the slight swell of her stomach where it disappears into lacy underwear, plush thighs that bracket your own naked body. You swallow thickly even as your mouth goes dry, your mind racing to compute how you ended up with this goddess straddling you.

“You’re staring,” Larissa whispers, her voice gentler than before as it pulls you out of your reverie - your gaze snaps up to her face to see her looking down at you affectionately, her smirk having softened slightly.

“S-sorry, continue,” you mumble, feeling your face and chest grow hot - it makes Larissa chuckle, which only makes you blush more. “You’re beautiful,” you blurt out, and that makes Larissa blush, her smile turning shy for only a moment.

“Not quite as beautiful as you,” she counters as she leans back down, the smirk returning to her face and her blush fading rapidly - you’re about to protest when she sucks your pulse point between her lips and flicks her tongue across it, and it draws a moan from your throat as your mind goes blank.

As Larissa settles on top of you, one of her hands buries itself in your hair and the other finds your hip, her thumb caressing your hip bone before slowly traveling lower. You think you hear her mumble something like “so soft” as she moans breathily against your neck, but you’re too distracted by the way your skin feels like it’s on fire beneath her touch and the way her fingernails scratching at your scalp send a noticeable shiver down your spine - one that seems to spur Larissa on as she smiles against your skin and grazes her teeth over the bruise she’s just created, her fingers finding the patch of curls between your legs.

It brings a fresh wave of heat to your core, some of your arousal trickling out of you in anticipation, and you ease your hands in her hair, unsure of what else to do with them aside from fist at the sheets. Apparently this was the right move - as you give Larissa’s hair a tug, she moans and gives yours a tug in return. You can feel her smile against your skin, clearly enjoying herself as she marks your neck in hues of red and purple, and the thought of her enjoying herself just by pleasing you turns you on even more as you buck your hips impatiently, your clit throbbing with need.

A soft chuckle vibrates against the underside of your jaw and then Larissa’s fingers have found your clit and pressed down lightly, and the touch alone is nearly enough to make stars explode behind your eyes. “Fuck,” you moan breathily, and it makes Larissa chuckle again and raise her head to watch you as you tilt your own head backwards, your eyes scrunched shut. 

A smirk tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips as her fingertips slide lower, dipping into the arousal gathered between your folds - and, fuck, does it feel heavenly, your breath catching in your throat as her lips find your neck again and kiss a slow, sensual trail up to your ear, matching the pace of her fingers exploring your cunt. Your hands slide from her hair to her shoulders, thumbs gently and absentmindedly caressing her collarbones in a subconscious effort to ground yourself and keep yourself from floating away.

As Larissa’s fingers circle your entrance, teasing the dripping hole, your stomach sinks a little. There’s one thing you haven’t mentioned to Larissa yet - it didn’t seem necessary when you weren’t having sex and now that you suddenly are, you’re not quite sure how to say it without ruining the mood. 

When you’d first broached the subject of masturbation with your friends, you quickly realized you were a bit different - whereas your peers shared recommendations for vibrators or, later, mentioned casually how big their boyfriends were, you could barely fit the tip of your own finger inside of yourself. When you did manage to push past it and go a bit deeper, it stung like hell, and no amount of lube or curling your finger against your supposed sweet spot made it any more pleasurable.

But maybe it’s different when it’s someone else, you think. Maybe it’s different when it’s Larissa; gorgeous, sexy, patient Larissa - because you’re more turned on than you ever have been, you’re absolutely drenched, and Larissa is being so sweet and so gentle. So, maybe, it won’t hurt if she does it. 

It does. 

You can tell as she slips the tip of her finger into your entrance that she’s not going to get very far, and your grip on her shoulders tightens just as much as your vaginal walls do, your stomach slowly but surely tying itself into a knot. 

“Breathe, darling,” Larissa coos. “Relax for me…” She thinks you’re just nervous, she doesn’t realize yet that it doesn’t feel good at all, and you don’t know how to tell her without ruining the mood so you bite your lip. 

“Is this alright?” Larissa’s voice is breathy with desire as she sinks her finger slowly into you, and you cling desperately to the hope that, the farther she gets, it will start to feel nice - you hope it will start to feel the way all your friends have described it to you, that the pain will give way to pleasure.

It doesn’t. 

It feels just the same as when you do it - like she’s scraping at your walls, like putting a tampon in dry, even though you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Your walls are clenching around Larissa’s finger, though it’s not sexy, it’s painful, but how do you say something when she’s clearly enjoying herself? And what if she reacts the way most of your friends have done, with incredulous disbelief? What if she wants to stop entirely?

You’re so lost in your own mind that you don’t realize Larissa’s finger has stilled inside of you, no longer sinking further into you. She’s pulled back to watch your face again, your lack of verbal response to her question coupled with your fingernails digging painfully into her shoulder having quickly signaled to her that something isn’t quite right. The look on your face confirms it, your eyes screwed shut and your brow furrowed but not quite in bliss, and Larissa uses her free hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and trace her fingertips along your cheekbone. 

“Darling? Are you alright?” 

Your eyes snap open and your stomach sinks further at the look of concern in the shapeshifter’s eyes, a pit forming at the idea of disappointing her. 

“Does this hurt?”

A beat. 

A moment where the world stands still and you feel your blood go cold as you struggle to articulate exactly what you’re feeling. 

You nod. 

“I’m going to pull out,” Larissa whispers instantly, her tone so soft and gentle that you can feel a film of tears forming over your eyes. You nod again and Larissa pulls her finger out of you as slowly as she can. The relief when your cunt is empty again is palpable, your grip on Larissa’s shoulders instantly loosening, and you watch in amazement, briefly distracted, as she sucks her finger between her lips to lick it clean as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, suppressing a little hum before adjusting her body against yours and cupping your cheek.

She rests her chin on your chest and looks up at you with big, sparkling blue eyes, eyes that shine with concern and affection in equal measure, her gaze so sincere that you have to look away for a moment and take a deep, steadying breath, bringing your hands to the back of Larissa’s neck to play with the stray blonde wisps at the base of her skull.

“S-sorry,” you mumble, your face suddenly feeling hot as a blush rises to your cheeks - you find yourself blinking rapidly to keep your tears at bay. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Larissa says softly, her thumb stroking back and forth across your cheekbone as her brow creases. “What happened?”

“I-it just doesn’t feel g-good, I guess…” you mumble, taking another deep breath as you think for a moment how you’d like to word what you have to say. Larissa can tell you’re thinking hard and she waits patiently - you can feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest against your body, her thumb on your cheekbone and her other hand resting on your shoulder, rubbing tenderly at your skin. “It… just kind of hurts… penetration, I mean… I have vaginismus, so I’ve never even really been able to use tampons or anything, either…”

Understanding floods Larissa’s features at your mention of vaginismus and she nods gently against your chest, waiting for you to continue - you don’t, you don’t really know what else to say.

“Does it hurt when you touch yourself, too?” she asks curiously, breaking the silence that, at least for you, has become somewhat uncomfortable.

“Yeah… I’ve never understood why people like it so much, or how it’s supposed to feel good.”

Larissa smiles softly at that. “Well, what feels good to you?”

You feel the heat of your darkening blush as you, once again, grapple for the right words, vulnerability flooding your veins as you lay yourself bare for Larissa. “A-anything on the outside, I guess… like touching my clit…”

As you speak, Larissa starts to slide the hand that was on your cheek down your body, fingertips lightly caressing the side of your breast, the dip of your waist, the curve of your hip, until they’ve reached your venus mound. “Does this feel good?” she husks, her fingertips grazing over your clit in a circle, just as before, her gaze staying trained on your face.

The gasp you let out as your hands slide back into Larissa’s updo tells her all she needs to know - a smirk tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips as you give her hair a pull, and she applies a bit more pressure to your clit, watching as your eyes fall shut and your head lolls back against the pillow, your back arching off the bed. 

“Will you tell me if you want to stop?” she asks softly, her voice an octave lower than before.

“Y-yes - I-I mean, I d-don’t wanna stop,” you murmur, a wave of pleasure washing over you as her fingers slide between your folds again. This time, they only ghost over your entrance, enough to gather your arousal on her fingertips and smear it across your clit as she starts to massage the bundle of nerves. 

Her lips find your sternum and she lets out a deep hum that vibrates against your skin as she kisses her way down the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. It’s not until her free hand comes to rest on your thigh that you open your eyes and look down at Larissa, the sight of the blonde between your legs drawing a moan from your chest.

“Spread your legs a bit for me,” she purrs, smirking when you immediately do as you’re told. “Good girl.”

Your stomach flips and you grind your hips a little harder against Larissa’s fingers, the coil behind your navel beginning to tighten as she praises you. 

“Tell me if this doesn’t feel good,” she whispers, pressing her lips to your inner thigh and gently nipping and sucking at the soft flesh, her hooded eyes never leaving your own. She removes her fingers from your clit and the whine that escapes your throat at the loss makes you blush - you don’t have time to be embarrassed, however, as her fingers are replaced with her lips wrapping around your clit. 

Larissa’s eyelids flutter shut, a deep, guttural moan vibrating against your cunt as she starts to suck your clit - the feeling is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Your hands curl into fists in her hair, your body tensing, and Larissa wraps her arms securely around your thighs, her own hands rubbing your skin in a soothing manner.

“Relax, darling, I’ve got you,” she coos breathlessly, before licking a path up your slit, exploring your folds with her tongue. It dips into your entrance only the tiniest bit, then finds its way back to your clit to stimulate the throbbing bud with little kitten licks. The deep breath you take comes back out as a moan, and you try to do as you’re told and let Larissa pleasure you without getting in your head about it. 

It’s hard at first but you slowly start to relax, your trust in Larissa growing with every flick of her tongue as your mind empties itself of doubt - there’s not a trace of pain, only overwhelming, earth-shattering pleasure, and what little embarrassment was left inside of you has long since evaporated into thin air as your orgasm looms ever closer.

Larissa can tell you’re getting close by the way your thighs are beginning to shake in her hold, your hips bucking wantonly against her face as you become a little bolder, trying to take control and fuck yourself on her tongue. She can’t help but smile a bit, moaning a little louder than before for your benefit and enjoying the way it has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“F-fffuck, Riss, th-think ‘m g-gonna cum…” you moan, unaware of how you’re subconsciously pushing Larissa’s head down and how your thighs are threatening to snap shut around her ears. You cum with another flick of Larissa’s tongue, your jaw falling slack to let out a moan that sounds so pornographic that you can’t quite believe it’s come out of your own mouth.

You feel like you’re floating, and it feels so good that you don’t realize that one of Larissa’s arms has left your thigh until she moans as well and you look down to see Larissa writhing against the bed - one hand clearly stuck in her underwear as she masturbates to the sound, the feeling, the sight of you coming undone on her tongue.

Blown pupils meet your own beneath mascara-coated lashes, Larissa looking hungrily up at you from between your legs, her lips still wrapped around your clit, and you can feel her smirk grow against your cunt as she bucks her own hips against her hand. Her gaze never wavers, though her eyelashes do flutter a bit as she works herself to the edge - her fingernails dig almost painfully into your thigh and her breathing becomes slow and shallow as her body begins to tremble.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you moan - with Larissa now cumming all over her own fingers, the need to touch her has become overwhelming, and you tug insistently at her hair, relaxing your thighs so that they’re no longer flush against Larissa’s ears. She releases your clit and pulls her hand out of her underwear, pushing herself up on all fours and crawling up your body until she’s resting beside you. She goes to cup your cheek and you turn your head, taking her fingers into your mouth. 

Larissa’s pupils dilate further as she watches you suck her arousal off her fingers, your cheeks hollowing out and your eyes fluttering shut as your tongue teases the seam of her fingers - she tastes so fucking good that you can’t help but moan, your cunt clenching and your hands seeking out Larissa’s waist to pull her closer, one hand sliding down her hip and tugging at her thigh to encourage her to hook it over your own. 

You release her fingers with a pop and open your eyes to find Larissa swallowing thickly, her lips parting and her tongue darting out to wet them - her gaze has fallen to your own lips and it gives you the encouragement you need to kiss her.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” you mumble against her lips, drawing a moan from her chest as she deepens the kiss. She licks into your mouth, full of enthusiasm and need, her hands tangling in your hair and her nails gently raking along your scalp.

Taking the lead, Larissa starts to rock her hips - her underwear is soaked and it makes your skin prickle with heat where her cunt rubs against your thigh. Your hand slides up to her hip, just feeling it roll sensually beneath your palm for a moment, before you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and give it a tug. Larissa helps you, moving her hips and placing her hand atop yours as you slide it down as far as it’ll go - she breaks the kiss as she kicks it off the rest of the way, then cups your cheek and crashes her lips against yours once more.

“Touch me,” Larissa sighs as she deepens the kiss, grinding her clit against your thigh, spreading her slick across your skin - you don’t need to be told twice, twisting in her arms to get just enough distance between the two of you so that you can trail your fingertips down her stomach. 

Touching Larissa feels like a heavenly privilege - her abdomen rippling beneath your touch, the soft patch of curls on her venus mound, her hands sliding into your hair, long fingers twisting and holding you in place as her soft, velvety tongue brushes against your own. You slip your hand between her legs, swiping two fingers up her slit - they glide effortlessly towards her clit with how aroused she is, her slick silky against your fingertips as you trace a circle around her clit and revel in the way Larissa’s hips twitch at the contact, the way her breath hitches against your lips.

Your other hand slides up Larissa’s waist, tracing the underside of her breast before cupping it and giving it a gentle squeeze - Larissa arches into your touch with a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan, her lips curling into a smile against yours.

“F-ffeels g-good,” she murmurs. “K-keep going…” 

You take your time circling her clit and exploring her folds, and it’s making your own arousal reach new heights as you feel how Larissa responds to your touch. Every time your fingers trace around her entrance Larissa’s hips buck harder against your hand - your breath is shallow with anticipation as you decide to slip one finger inside of her, and then you stop breathing entirely for a moment as you feel Larissa’s walls, warm and wet and unbelievably soft, clench around you.

“Fuck…” you breathe out, pulling away from the kiss for just a moment to regain your breath. Larissa’s breathing is just as ragged as your own and, as you meet her gaze, you see just how desperately turned on she is. “C-can I add another finger?” you stutter out, and it makes Larissa chuckle a little as she nods and rocks her hips.

You add a second finger and her walls clench again - it’s a bit of a tighter fit and it has your own walls clenching in tandem with hers as you sink your fingers as deep inside of her as you can, watching her face carefully for any sign of pain, or any sign you’re doing something wrong. You’re only met with pleasure and bliss, however, Larissa’s lips parting as her head tips back a bit and her eyelashes flutter as she fights to keep her eyes on yours.

You might not enjoy penetration but it’s clear Larissa does - her hips grind in time with each pump of your fingers, her grip in your hair tightening as her body tenses and arches with each ministration. You’ve added your thumb to the mix, lightly massaging her swollen clit as your other hand fondles her chest, pinching and pulling at her nipple and squeezing the soft, supple flesh. 

Larissa’s moans pick up in volume as you pick up your pace, a string of soft, breathy ‘ah, ah, ah’s falling from her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and her brow creases as her cunt clenches particularly hard around your fingers, and you can feel by the way her thighs have begun to tremble that she’s close. You’re unable to kiss her properly as her jaw keeps falling a little slack, so you press your lips to her neck and start to suck and nibble at her pulse point, hoping to tip her over the edge.

“Mmmh… c-can you add another?” 

Larissa’s mumbled words confuse you for a moment and you’re about to hum in question against her neck when understanding floods your system - you push in a third finger with your next thrust, feeling Larissa stretch around you, and her moans go from soft and breathy to deep and guttural as her hips stutter.

It only takes a few more pumps of your fingers to send her over the edge, her hands tugging painfully at your hair as her arousal coats your fingers, the knot behind her navel snapping and sending her into orbit. You can feel her chest heave beneath your hand as she arches her back, her head lolling back against the pillow and offering you better access to her neck as her hips lose their rhythm entirely and her entire body tenses beneath you. 

You continue to fuck her through her high, until her body starts to relax and sink into the mattress, her cunt now merely twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Your hand leaves her breast to thread itself into her hair and your thumb stills against her clit as you stop pumping your fingers. Her own hands loosen their grip in your hair, just resting against your head as she holds you in place to take deep, steadying breaths. 

“Is it okay if I pull out?” you whisper between soft, lazy kisses to Larissa’s neck, and you wait for her nod before you gently remove your fingers from her cunt. Larissa’s hand searches blindly for your wrist, lifting it gingerly, and you raise your head to watch as she wraps her lips around your fingers and sucks, humming softly. 

She looks so goddamn ethereal, her face flushed, her forehead slicked with sweat that her little platinum curls are sticking to, her brow fully relaxed, only a shadow of a crease visible. When she opens her eyes to meet your gaze, she releases your fingers from between her lips and smiles, pushing herself up slightly on the bed and wrapping her arms around you to pull you on top of her. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” she whispers, her voice slightly hoarse, and you bite your lip as you curl into her. 

“Really good,” you mumble. “I should be asking you that…”

Larissa chuckles. “So ask me.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” she repeats, her voice teasing - but the sparkle in her eyes as she looks down at you confirms her words, and it makes you blush. 

Larissa’s fingertips dance along your spine for a bit - it grounds you, making you feel safer and more loved than you ever have in your life. Her lips pepper tender kisses to every inch of skin that she can reach, and her legs intertwine themselves with yours in an effort to hold you close.

“You know, darling, penetration isn’t everything,” she whispers after a while. “There are so many things we can do that don’t involve penetration at all…” Larissa’s tone is suggestive and a fresh wave of arousal pools in your core at her words, all sorts of sinful ideas running through your mind.

“Yeah?” you croak out, your voice betraying your growing desire. “Why don’t you show me then?”

You look up just in time to catch the widening of Larissa’s pupils as she smirks down at you, and her hand starts to make its way down your hip, giving your thigh a tug. “I just might…”

x

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A/N: I'm always here (even if I'm not posting) to talk about vaginismus and anything else of that nature 🤍 much love and thank you for reading 🤍

[pomrania]

Smaugust: "glow"

For Smaugust I am drawing cats as dragons. If you want me to draw your cat as a dragon, reblog this post with a photo of your cat, as well as the cat's name included in the body of the post. Read below the cut for full details; it's the same as in previous years.

This particular post is accepting requests so long as it's still 22 August 2024 somewhere in the world. If it's no longer that date, check my blog to see if there's a current post.

One request per person per day, and only one cat per request. It is acceptable, and even encouraged, to make a request for every day of Smaugust.

Cats will be dragonified in accordance with the theme for the day, given in the post's title. I'm using the prompts from @pencilcat's list, although not necessarily in the given order.

Non-cats are allowed so long as you provide reasons why the animal in question is actually totally a cat.

Check the date given at the top of the post, to see if requests are open for it. Unless it's literally impossible, I'll be drawing and then posting every valid request I've received; however, sometimes that gets done once requests are closed for a post. So just because I reblog this post and add art to it, that doesn't necessarily mean it's okay to make your own request (doesn't necessarily mean that it's not okay, either).

One thing that's changed from last year: there won't be a post for every day in August. I'll be deciding each day whether I feel up to making a new post (and thus taking requests) at the moment, or if I need to work on the requests I still have, or take a rest. Since I can't guarantee that requests will be open for any given day, if you know ahead of time that you're not going to be available on certain days but you'd still like to see your cat drawn as a dragon, get in touch with me ahead of time, because I'd hate for anyone to have to miss out.

The deadline for requests on a particular post is "when it's no longer that day anywhere in the world". This is because I hate fiddling with time zones. If you're in the Americas, this means anywhere from a couple to a bunch of hours past midnight, depending on where you live; in Europe, it's longer than that; for the rest of the world, listen I don't actually know where the international date line is (if that's what it's called) and I don't care enough to look it up. In practice, the deadline is "whenever I get online the next day", unless I'm sufficiently annoyed or particular that I'll actually check the date stamps.

I'd prefer for you to only give me one picture per request that you want drawn as a dragon, because then I don't have to choose. However, it's perfectly okay to include extra photos if you just want to show off your cat; I'd just ask that if there's more than two of them, that you put them under a cut so they won't take up too much room on anyone's dash.

[grandline-fics]

Could I request something with Law please? I'm not sure if you do NSFW stuff or not, but if you do could it maybe be something about after a one night stand, reader finds out her eggo is preggo and how law reacts?

If you don't do NSFW that's totally fine too! Maybe something about Law having a crush on femme reader who joins the crew, but they don't know she's a devil fruit user until a battle and they see her in action? She has a logia type that allows her to control water and become water.

DESCRIPTION: You find out you’re pregnant after a one-night stand

WARNINGS:  Mentions of pregnancy, suggestive descriptions but nothing explicit, some angst

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,121

A/N: Sorry you had to wait so long for this and I hope you like what I managed to come up with for the pregnancy prompt

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

Law knew a distraction would jeopardise the plan he’d formed. He knew letting himself have his attention be diverted from the goal at hand was stupid. He was the personification of logic and yet he still found himself looking across the room at the sound of your laughter. He knows better, he should know better. Now was not the time to be drawn in like some lovesick child. Still he can’t help himself. He can’t help how he feels about you, or how he keeps thinking about  the way his hands twitch, wanting to feel you again. He’d told himself one lapse of judgement was enough, as amazing as it had been. As he lifted his drink to his mouth, he couldn’t help but compare the taste to the memory of you. You were far more intoxicating, dizzying, and delicious than any alcohol that passed his lips. 

When you tucked your hair behind your ear as you talked with one of the crew, the action exposing your neck that he knew was sensitive. His dark eyes flickered to your fingers, lightly cradling your drink and something new came to his mind. Throughout the night he had yet to see you take a single drink from your cup. If he hadn’t been failing miserably to ignore you he wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Suddenly his mind switched to that of the focused doctor and watched you for a reason that wasn’t because of his feelings he was in denial about.

Any time you lifted the cup to your lips as though you were about to take a drink, you would lower it to continue the conversation you were having. It happened far too much to be a coincidence. Law knew you well enough to know nothing would interrupt you from drinking if it was what you wanted. There was only one reason why you would do this. Without thinking he rose suddenly and crossed the room, whatever Penguin was about to say to you died on his tongue at the appearance of your Captain who was looking far too intense. You looked over your shoulder and kept your expression impassive, your gaze only dropping when his hand gripped your upper arm. “We need to talk.” he told you sharply, leaving no chance for you to answer before he was all but pulling you out of the bar and leaving the rest of the crew behind to enjoy the rest of their night. 

“So what’s wrong Captain?” you asked calmly, pulling free from his grip and ignoring how his eye twitched at the title. The last time you’d called him by his name was the night you’d spent together and after agreeing it was best being left as a one time thing, you reverted back to only addressing him as your Captain in order to make things simpler. When Law didn’t immediately answer your question you turned to face him fully. “You sounded urgent in the bar. So is there an issue or isn’t there?”

“Are you pregnant?” The question was soft and yet it hit you hard, the implication of the reality you’d been trying not to think about was said aloud. It had been only a couple of weeks since you and Law slept together but you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of being pregnant until Penguin handed you your drink in the bar. Law, ever observant seemed to notice almost instantly just from your behaviour in one evening and you could curse him for that skill. Why couldn’t you have had just a little more time to come to terms with it on your own first and then tell him yourself? “I honestly don’t know.” Was the only answer you could manage out.  

He could have used his Devil Fruit then and there to find out for sure but instead the two of you walked back to the sub and he found a pregnancy test in the medical supplies for you to take. Perhaps it was to give you both more time in tense, ignorant bliss, the strange limbo of it still being only a possibility and not a certainty. You sat beside him, staring at a medical chart on the far wall, anything to avoid looking at the test, your stomach, or Law. 

“If it is positive-” his voice began slowly and you let out a small hollow scoff that interrupted him.

“Probably worked out well we’d docked on an island. Don’t have to worry about any more traveling.”

“You’d leave?” Law asked tightly. 

“You’d want me…us to stay?” You asked finally looking at him, confused about why he seemed so pained about you going. “You didn’t want a relationship because it was too much of a distraction which I understand and respect. A baby would take you from your goals even more than just being with me would. I wouldn’t stay only for you to resent my presence or the baby’s. If there is one.” You explained before rubbing your neck. This was such a mess and all your fault, you knew pursuing Law would be a bad idea. With him being your Captain and knowing he was focussed solely on his own ambition it was going to end badly but you just had to go and let your emotions get the better of you. 

Law reached forward and lifted the test into his hand, staring at the tiny little mark that felt like a huge weight in his hands, the tiny mark that signified the new life he was responsible for. The Surgeon of Death had created a life. He’d never considered it before, or rather he’d never allowed himself to think about something like this. Having a family was a cruel and dangerous daydream to indulge in after losing his own and Cora. It was painful to think about repairing some of that trauma and yet here he was now faced with that reality. Could he allow himself to have something good again? Yes there would be risks but if it was with you, wasn’t it worth it?

He glanced at you to see your eyes had locked into the result on the pregnancy test. You were completely frozen, as though frightened to make a noise or any movement out of fear of disturbing him. Suddenly you jumped when his hand settled over yours that had been resting on your lap, the action causing his fingers to graze against your stomach. Just holding your hand was enough to make him feel more grounded, more settled from the previous yearning he’d had when you were apart. Law took a breath, lifting his head to meet your stare. You could both do this. “Please stay.”