#was wondering who would be my new white boy of the month and then he came for me in a dream -- woooah woah hold on now
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tim roth coming in with the sneak attack
#was wondering who would be my new white boy of the month and then he came for me in a dream -- woooah woah hold on now#it was actually all thanks to beau my dear friend beau mwah#fantasizing abt drawing ted the bellhop but havent done it yet. and the night is still young sooo#🐺🪓.txt
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nanami kento, very serious looking guy working in the finance department, having a little crush for the new girl who just got hired by the creative team.
you didn’t even know him, not until the christmas dinner party at the office. you were fairly new, only been working there for four months. working for a big company had not always been your goal, but when you got offered the position freshly out of college you couldn’t say no. it was well paid, in the city center, and allowed you to put your degree to use - which was a big plus, since finding a good job lately seemed to be stressful for people with an art degree (or so you were told by basically everybody).
when you first saw him, your heart skipped a bit. he looked insanely good, with his white shirt hugging a toned chest and short blonde hair falling slightly on his forehead. he was talking with your creative project manager, big hands gesturing softly while speaking and a light smile on his face. it was the first time you ever laid eyes on this beautiful man, and as soon as you realized you were staring a bit too hard, he had already made eye contact. eyebrows slightly furrowed, his eyes met yours. before you even knew, you were walking up to him.
“hi” you said, breathily. you felt your hands sweat and damned yourself mentally for behaving like a girl seeing a cute boy for the first time. up close, you realized he must have been a little older. not too much but the confidence he exuded was clearly not the one of someone in his early twenties - nothing like a guy your age. your manager looked around, confused on why you were intruding in their conversation, and eventually asked “hi, y/n. did you need something?”
you blushed immediately, looking away from the beautiful man, realizing there was no good reason to justify your sudden intrusion. you just saw a good looking man and walked up to him as if nothing else was going on. “oh…” your mouth slightly open, your mind racing to find something appropriate to say.
“i think we have not been introduced yet.” his voice was deep and you felt it in your stomach, like music at a concert. your eyes darted up to the unknown man, nodding shyly. “right. my name is nanami kento, pleased to meet you.”
you felt your insides melt while shaking his big hand, mumbling your name and smiling softly. five seconds later, you pretended like someone was calling your name from somewhere where your other colleagues were and excused yourself, quickly leaving just like you did arriving.
watching you walk away, nanami let out a soft smile, hoping the man in front of him was not going to pay much mind to it. “oh, don’t worry about y/n. she’s young, and new. she’s still trying to find her way around here, you know?” your project manager laughed awkwardly, still wondering what was all that about. kento shrugged, watching you from afar. your cheeks were red and the grip on the glass you had in your hands looked incredibly stiff.
what neither you or your protect manager knew was that nanami kento did know who you were. he had noticed you, maybe on your first or second day, when you got lost and popped up in the finance department. your colorful sweater and laptop full of stickers looked very out of place and when one of his colleagues approached you, letting you know that maybe you had walked in the wrong office, you did turn another color from embarrassment and started profoundly apologize. he thought you were cute, and funny, but the more he got a glimpse of you in the hallways, the more he noticed you wherever he were.
the break room, the coffee shop in front of the office building, the elevator. he found you in every room, even if you didn’t even know he was there. it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, like looking at you from afar was something he had grown addicted to in such a short time.
he wouldn’t have called it a crush, but whenever he needed to print something he would carefully choose the printer on the same floor your office was on - hoping that, when walking by, your door would be open and that he could catch a glimpse of you. okay, maybe thinking back, there had been a few moments in which he felt very infatuated by the idea of you…
looking at you from across the room, while zoning out on the conversation he was in, and noticing how sometimes you would look back too, he told himself that yes, that was definitely a crush.
idk i love the dynamics of stoic boyfriend x artsy girlfriend. wtv??? i’m done .
#jjk x reader#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami kento x reader#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n
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—♡DOUMA X MALE READER WARNING: smut, non-con, cannibalism?, douma, reader having a huge chest, thoracic area called boobs/tits, daddy kink, face sitting, breeding kink, semi-public?, incest?, cliffhanger ending (only because I’m lazy), not proof read
A/N— okay I know I was gone for like 2 months but um— yeah
You were a member of his cult and your older sister got sick to the point she had to stay in bed instead of praying to your demon lord. For the past couple days you had been asking your lord to heal your sister. And at first DOUMA was uninterested or just ignored you but then he got a full look at you. (H/c) hair, beautiful bright (e/c) eyes, nice face, well shaped body, and lastly YOUR CHEST. Oh and how he was so in love.
“Oh look a new play thing. Just. For. Me~ and ONLY me~”
After that you notice changes. One, Douma would ONLY look at you if you in the room but the moment you leave his face becomes disinterested (even if he doesn’t have emotions he feels like his life just decrease by a life time). Two, you ALWAYS feel like you’re being watched no matter what you doing or where you are, there are always RAINBOW EYES watching. And three, when you go and pray to your lord you can notice the lust in his eyes like a predator eyeing their next meal.
“I can’t believe I haven’t noticed you sooner… I wonder if that man will let me keep you~ who know maybe I will quit bugging him~”
Knowing damn well that man can hear him
One time you went to douma and asked for his blessing so your sister could get better and by pure coincidence your sister gotten better and could move around better then before. You thanked douma for the blessing but even tho it was a complete coincidence douma wanted more than just a thanks. He gave you his blessing and healed your sister. He wants more and he will get want he wants whether you want it or not .
HaAh~ Oh you tastes Sooo~ good~ Your so good—Fuck! for daddy~
Grinding your hips into the pillow while Douma is thrusting in and out your ass. “Ahh~ you look like dog when you do that~” Douma said, moving his hand up your body and stopping at your chest. “W-wait~AH!” Slamming his cock back in he starts to grope your chest. “Hmm! What a— good boy you are, so good— for daddy” you start to feel yourself about to release and you try to warn your lord but all that came out was babbles. Douma seem to notice this and started to go even harder on you hearing your gummy walls take him in and out and all the noise you were making made him even more hard then white sticky cum came out your dick but that didn’t stop Douma in fact he decided to switch it up a lot bit.
He lifts you over his face, your legs are shaking then slams you down on his face. Taking his long slimy tongue starting with kitty licks, suddenly roughly gripping your thighs and full on eating your ass like there’s no tomorrow. When the door opens (you didn’t even notice at first) it reveals your sister. Your sister was in shock, she didn’t know you had a side like this. Hearing your moans and the licks your sister can feel a wet spot in her undergarment. While your sister was standing there Douma could smell her wetness and started to get upset.
“Why is she here.”
“She needs to leave can’t she see I’m playing with my plaything.”
“It’s her fault he’s in this situation”
“She shouldn’t be so selfish and get sick”
“You know what… It’s show time”
Taking out his tongue from your ass, he moves you to his lap. Picking you up with your legs wrapped around his waist Douma starts to walk to your sister. “You know it’s rude to stare” using one of his free hands and roughly grabbing your sister’s chin forcing her to look at his rainbow eyes. “W-what are you doing to my brother!” Yelled out your sister that was trying to force Douma’s hand off of her and trying to reach for you, when Douma grabs the hand that was reaching for you and pulling it off her body. Finally snapping out the trance you hear a bloody cuddling scream. Turning your head around to see your sister on the ground clutching her shoulder but before you can say anything you were placed on the ground on all fours in front of your sister.
“Why don’t we put a show on for your sister~ hmm dear~”
#douma x reader#douma x male reader#male reader#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x male reader#douma smut#upper moons#sub male reader#uke male reader#bottom male reader#male reader smut#smut#yandere x reader#yandere x male reader#yandere
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Cracked || Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Wife! Reader
Summary: No one ever said duty would hurt like this
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: Twincest targcest (Velaryoncest?), angst, spoilers if you haven't watched S2E2, for anti hating purposes is not explicitly stated but all characters are above 18.
Author's note: Won't you look at me, 7 months since my last HOTD fic! That scene with Jace tearing up definitely did something to me. My very first time writing for Jace, hopefully won't be the last!
Also a massive massive thank you and all my devotion to @moris-auri for beta reading this!
No one welcomes him when he lands in the Dragonmont.
The flapping of Vermax's leathery wings is amplified, booming throughout the massive cavern, swirls of steam rising from the cracks on the dark stone. The only ones to witness his arrival are the dragon keepers, but even they are distracted, their focus on the exhausted dragon and not his equally drained rider. When they stride past him, they don’t acknowledge him at all, almost as if he doesn’t exist. Jace wonders if he is a ghost, because only in death could someone feel the agony that seeps from his bones and still be standing.
He feels like a foreigner in this place.
Even though he has lived on Dragonstone half his life, he feels like a foreigner. The fortress is not theirs. He doubts it never truly has been. They are just keepers of these ancient walls and the history they carry within. Dragonstone is a relic that will stand on that island for a thousand years to come, as welcoming as a gush of Northern wind on bare skin. The only warmth comes from its very core, from those who habit it and who've made the great fortress a home.
But the home he left weeks prior is not the one he now returns to. The warmth has been snuffed and the hearth has been shattered.
He walks with his head held high and his back straight, gaze always ahead and chin lifted in a gesture of near arrogance. He walks like an heir, because he is. He is now his mother’s heir and he must play his part, even if all he wants to do is lay his head on her lap and weep like a boy of ten.
A moon ago he was just Jacaerys Velaryon. He was a son, a firstborn son, but with no more responsibility than studying and learning, mastering skills that would serve him purpose in 30 or 40 years. His greatest concerns were training Vermax properly, what desserts would be served after supper, and how to avoid falling into another of his siblings’ silly pranks. He had been betrothed long ago, but marriage itself was something distant, something that could wait out a few more years.
He was a brother of five with another sibling on the way; a sister. While most in the castle pined for a son, another boy, he secretly supported his mother’s longing for a little girl.
And now he is Jacaerys, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to his mother’s throne and crown. He is more Targaryen than Velaryon now. He is an envoy, a messenger, a warrior if needed be. He is a strategist and a politician. He is an asset and a threat; someone who has forged great alliances, but also has found strong enemies, their weapons aimed directly at the target behind his head, target painted there by his grandsire many a year before his birth. A wedding , hastily arranged, to strengthen their cause and their line of inheritance.
He is a brother to just four now, and the crib has been left empty.
Cregan Stark had been the one to break the news to him. Standing on a cramped lookout on the edge of the world, nothing but whiteness as far as the eye reached, Lord Stark had said that the Wall did more than keep savages and ice at bay. It held back death.
But death came nonetheless.
Jacaerys had managed to maintain his stance as a man and a Prince, receiving the news with unyielding stoicism, even when his knees felt weak and his body chilled, like ice had spread down his spine. But this ice was nothing like the one surrounding him, there on the edge of the North. This one burned, burned like dragonfire while stabbing him with a thousand knives, leaving him to bleed out while not allowing him to die. It stole the air from his lungs and the blood from his veins, and filled him with snow. His lungs couldn’t breathe, his heart couldn’t beat yet somehow he didn’t drop dead right there where he stood.
He recalls little of what occurred after, nothing more than brief, precise memories. Receiving Cregan’s condolences, and feeling the firm squeeze of the older man’s hand on his shoulder. Northerners parting silently to make way for him in the courtyard, where a restless Vermax awaited, his screeches rattling the windows of the nearby towers. Someone handing him a parcel, hastily wrapped, containing a sleek wolf pelt as a present for their Queen. The thunderstorm he traversed in the Riverlands, and the toll it took on Vermax to fly through it.
The painful tightening on his throat as he wondered if he had encountered a similar one, not far from home.
Servants and courtiers make way for him, as he approaches his mother’s chambers. They bow and curtsy, and offer words of courtesy, lamenting the loss of the young Prince. Some stare out of the corner of their eye as he passes, waiting to see if the new Prince of Dragonstone will crumble like sand before their very eyes. But he never betrays himself; not a tear brimming in his eyes, not a wobble of his lips. The occasional flaring of his nostrils is the single telltale of the sorrow that simmers just beneath his skin.
He hesitates briefly, pausing at the end of the vast hallway where the royal apartments are. Up the winding staircase, past the single set of double doors to the left, his mother awaits. No, not his mother, the Queen. She stopped being his mother the day the crown was placed atop her head, and the court of Dragonstone bent the knee before her. Grief and loss shaped her, morphing her into the leader and ruler she had been born to be. Jace can only admire her, and hope that he will be able to embrace his new role as effortlessly as she has done hers.
The double doors are pushed open by Ser Erryk. The Queen sits alone, gaze downcast and thoughts troubled, that much Jace can tell by the nervous fidgeting of her hands, twisting her rings almost compulsively. When her eyes rise to meet his, Jacerys sees in them a mirror of himself, the same exhaustion, the effort to push back and bury the wrenching misery, the bleeding wound left behind by their loss.
They are alone, just the two of them in that silent alcove. Jace could break down, weep like he hasn’t done in years and lay his head across her lap; let her slender, motherly fingers card through his hair as she assures him that all will be well in the end. But he can’t, he can’t because she’s more Queen than mother now and she’s grieving too, grieving deeper than he is and if she can keep it together then so can he, because he is her heir and he has to make her proud and be a man worthy of respect.
The Prince doesn’t cry; the heir doesn’t cry.
A man remains immovable and imperturbable.
He straightens his back, head held high and hands laced before him as he recounts his triumphs, the Houses he convinced to pledge for them and what each one has offered and asked them in return. This moment should have been his shining glory, with himself striding through the castle with pride and confidence, ready to announce to the council how he had secured the allegiance of the Vale and the North for their cause. He would bask in his wife’s admiration, drink the praises from her lips and show her he was ready to one day be a great King, with a great Queen by his side.
Instead it is just them two, hidden behind doors, picking up the pieces falling from their carefully built masks before they completely fall apart. He brings good news, great news, but they matter little and now taste like ash in his mouth, burning and bitter. His victories mean nothing to him because his little brother is dead, gone 60 years before his time, and they don’t even have a body to burn and Jacaerys feels it should have been him, because he is the eldest and he should have protected him better. He should have faced their rageful uncle and died instead, but he didn’t and now he stands there, moving and doing because if he stays still the grief will swallow him whole and bury him in a pit of sand.
And then his voice breaks, the facade cracks and they both stop pretending, because pretending hurts, like gripping a white hot rod with both hands and refusing to let go even if it’s hurting you.
Her embrace is warm; her arms feel like home. With his head tucked under her chin, his cheek pressed against her chest, he feels young again. He feels the sobs racking her body, the tears dampening her face and his hair, her fingers digging on the fabric of his cloak. They sway slightly, rocking from side to side like when he was a babe of just a few days old, fussy and restless, keeping the whole holdfast awake at night because he refused to settle anywhere but on his mother’s arms.
But now Jace suspects the motion is meant for her more than for him, to transport her to days past when she held her babes in her arms and they were safe under her wing and no one could harm them because she would sooner tear the world to pieces. Discreetly the places shift, now it's her forehead against his shoulder and his arms holding her steady. Jace feels the tears stinging his eyes and the lump blocking his throat, but he cannot break down because his mother is broken and someone must stand strong and whole and it has to be him.
Soon, too soon, his mother has dismissed him, sending him to his chambers to bathe and rest because they will have the funeral at sunset and they must not show weakness before the court. The cracks must be patched and hidden, no matter how deep they run. Not a single piece can fall out of place.
He drags his feet now; the weight on top of him has grown heavy. His posture slackens, his shoulders slump, the pretence is harder to hold. Sunset feels like a death sentence, because a funeral makes it real. It makes it true. Burning what they have because there is not even a body left behind to burn. That way he can no longer pretend that is not happening, that is all just a tale. And then, he will crack. No willpower will keep him whole because his brother, his little brother is dead and he has to face a future where Lucerys will not be a part of it.
He pushes his chamber door open with one shoulder, his mind blank of any thought; the encounter with his mother affected him deeper than he had anticipated, because even she is cracking and now is just him holding it together because he has to.
And then he sees her.
His wife sits before the hearth, so ethereal with the glow of the fire illuminating her face. Her head turns as soon as the door opens, and he immediately notices the red around her swollen eyes. At first he thinks she’s mourning, but she’s had her time to mourn and Jace knows she’s crying for him, crying because she feels the agony straining to break through his flesh. Just like they have felt each other’s every emotion for as long as they have lived, have anticipated each other’s words and read their thoughts. Connected by a bond that runs deeper than marriage, because they are of the same blood, come into the world together.
The last time he saw her before his departure, they had an ugly fight. Jacaerys had convinced their mother to keep her at Dragonstone rather than allow her to fly as an envoy, claiming they could not leave the fortress unguarded and with the larger dragons going in and out on their missions, they had to pile up their remaining strength. The Queen had agreed, and her word was final.
She could not argue with Her Grace, but she certainly made Jacaerys know how she felt about what she perceived as a betrayal and lack of trust in herself and her abilities. Jace pleaded with her to see reason, to see things from his perspective. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her, he would never dare to doubt her strength. But he didn’t trust the men she would encounter on her journey, nor did he want her to risk taking a long flight on her dragon and run into danger. She, always the hot headed one, had called him every name under the sun and refused to see him off, choosing instead to sulk in her chamber. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, to leave on bad terms with her, but he trusted they would talk it out upon his arrival. That all would be well and their problems would be solved.
He stands silently before her, and for the first time he feels small. So small and diminished, unwilling to look her in the eyes. His gaze is fixed on the floor because the tears are winning the battle and if they do he will crack open like a dragon egg, but no great beast will emerge, only his insecurities and his failures.
His lower lip wobbles, and he bites it so hard he leaves the imprint of his teeth. His nails dig deep in his palms in his attempt to steady their accusatory trembling. He breathes in and out, slow and steady, his eyes squeezed shut as he feels himself losing control. He cannot allow himself to lose it, not in front of her of all people, not when he is supposed to be her pride, not her embarrassment.
He hears the sharp drag of the chair as she stands, the thud of the heavy tome she had been reading being thrown rather carelessly over a table. Her steps are slow and calculated as she moves across the stone, approaching him cautiously like he is some wild beast ready to lash out. Like he is some fragile thing, so fragile that a gush of wind could break him apart.
Her hands are soft and warm as they cradle his face, gently coaxing him to look up, to meet her eyes. But he can’t, he fears he will see disappointment in them, he will see accusation, he will see her blame him for Luke’s death, for forcing her to remain back when it was their little brother who needed his protection the most.
For failing the family.
He succumbs in the end, brown eyes gingerly rising to meet her own, bracing himself for the worst. But he sees nothing of what he expected. He sees no anger, no resentment, no pity. Just worry and tenderness, and a desolation that matches his own.
The first tears he has been holding back since Winterfell finally escape the barrier of his willpower and roll down his cheeks. He attempts to blink them away but they cannot be stopped, nor does he have the strength to stop them no more. His wife brushes some away with her thumbs, and smoothes back his hair in a tender gesture
“Jace.”
That little world, the call of his own name coming from her lips is all that it needs for the dam inside him to burst. The violent sobs rack his body, tears blurring his vision and he chokes on them, while also feeling like he’s breathing for the first time since that raven arrived at the Wall. He tries to hide his face but she won’t let him, and tears shine in her eyes too and that only makes the crying worse, because his wife is suffering and he cannot console her because he’s also suffering.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
His legs weaken and his stance falters. The same apology falls from his mouth, the small words tumbling over each other and getting lost in the incessant weeping. His knees falter and he drops down; his forehead rests against her body and his hands are on her hips, fearing he will lose her if he lets go. He sobs onto her dress, not caring anymore about being the perfect Prince and heir, about being the man everyone will respect and be proud of.
His wife drops to her knees too and holds him close, allowing his head to lay against her shoulder. The scent of her body fills his nostrils, aroma of camellias and toasted sugar. It smells of happy memories and easier days, and it evokes a sense of safety in him, of tenderness, of the happiest days of his short life. His cry doesn’t stop, but it is not only for Lucerys now. It is for his mother, for his younger brothers, for himself and for all the losses to come. He cries for his twin, his wife, for now the fear of harm coming her way has increased tenfold, and the mere idea of her being cruelly ripped from his side tears a gash on his heart.
He cries until he’s sure there are no tears left to cry. Until the weight has been lifted from his chest and he is sure he can breathe again. They remain there for what feels like mere seconds and a lifetime at the same time, locked in each other’s embrace. Her fingers card through his hair and her lips press tender kisses to his temple; his arms wrapped around her, hands pressed against her back to keep her close, as close as he can to his own heart. He would gladly stay there forever, spend the rest of his days encased in her warmth and basking in her love. But the moment is broken all too soon when a servant knocks on the door to let them know that courtiers are already gathering in the outskirts of the castle for the funeral.
Jace lets himself be guided by the hand like an obedient child to sit before her vanity. She moves around him silently; unneeded words would only break the feeble spell of calmness surrounding them.
She takes care of everything for him. Wipes his face clean with a damp cloth, presses a cool spoon to his eyes so they will not appear swollen and bloodshot. He changes into a fresh tunic, and allows her to comb his hair and powder his face to disguise the redness of his cheeks and nose.
They stand together before the ornate mirror, both of them dressed in matching red and black. She helps him pin the cloak onto his tunic, fastening it to his right shoulder with a silver dragon brooch. Jace holds her gaze in their reflection, hoping to convey with gestures the emotions words fail to do. She understands; she always does.
He is rewarded with a kiss on the cheek, and while it does not manage to coax a smile out of him, it fills his veins with a pleasant tickling warmth, the same he felt after their first kiss and the one he hopes to feel until his last breath.
Her fingers run up his arms gently, tracing the embroiders and trimmings of the doublet. They come to rest on his shoulders and gently push them back, straightening his posture and puffing out his chest. The right index continues the ascent, tracing the curve of the neck and the still sharpening line of the jawline before settling under his chin, pushing upwards ever so slightly to lift his head. Urging him to hold himself with pride. To unapologetically show the world that he is cracked, but not broken.
She comes to stand before him at last, smoothing down nonexistent creases from his clothes until nothing but pure perfection remains. They hold each others’ gaze for a few moments, before she reaches up to steal from him a gentle kiss.
“All ready, My Prince.”
This time, he smiles.
#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jace velaryon x reader#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jace targaryen x reader#jace velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x twin#jace velaryon x twin#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd fic#hotd fanfic#prince jacaerys velaryon#prince jacaerys#prince jacaerys targaryen#marsie writes
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Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)
Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0
Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall
Link to Pt.1
PART THREE HERE!!!
_______________________________________
You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.
It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.
This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.
-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:
Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.
-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-
You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!
Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.
-----------
It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.
You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.
"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.
"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.
"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.
"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.
You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.
It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.
"Uncle says your ass is fat too."
You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-
The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.
Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.
"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.
"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.
"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.
"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”
Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.
Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.
"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.
You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.
"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!
You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.
You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.
“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.
“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.
“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”
And just like that it was quiet.
-8:30pm-
The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.
“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads
-9:00pm-
Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.
“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.
“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.
It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.
“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.
“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response
“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.
What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!
“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.
“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.
“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.
“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.
-11:08pm-
It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.
“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s your little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.
“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.
“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.
Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.
“I did say that.”
Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.
Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.
“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.
“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.
“Suku-“
“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.
“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.
“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.
“No.”
And with that you make the first move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.
Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.
___________________________________
Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!
Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13
#x reader#reader is black#sukuna x reader#unkuna#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk au#jjk headcanons#uncle sukuna#jjk x reader
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He's my clockwork appointed babysitter, not dad.
They failed, even they managed to beat all the cultist in time. The ritual was still completed. The leader was laughing like a maniac until Hood hit him hard with the butt of his gun, knocking the guy out cold finally. With held breaths, they watched how smoke rose from the ritual circle higher and higher until it started to form a black shadow with stars as eyes and too many teeth and limps. Batman was on his way with Constantine. Maybe they could at least contain whatever that was until they arrived.
"Who in the name of all good and holy dared to summon me?!" A static scratchy voice echoed in their ears.
No one dared to answer at first but of course Red I-fear-nothing Hood had to open his mouth earning him death glares from his siblings. "Aren't you like a demon? Why would you mention anything good and holy?"
That think was blinking at them and Tim did a double take when that think moved its many limps like it was rubbing the back of its neck.
"In the name of all bad and cursed then?" It sounded unsure still a booming echo like voice but unsure. They shared a look. Dick opened his mouth, ready to say something when suddenly a familiar voice shouted from behind them.
"Cut the crap kid! They are the Batsie and his birds belong to the good!"
They turned to see Constantine marching in with Batman right behind him. The man was throwing the but of his cigarette way as he went right up to that demon. Which apparently was not one because right as the Brite was up to it a puff of greenish some blocked their view for a moment before a white haired child stood where the demon had been seconds ago.
"The hell you doing out here kid. I told you to stay at home."
"You try resisting a summon when your all new to the fact that you can get summoned!"
"Your going to make my hair gray faster, you little chaos gremlin."
"Aw love you too!"
"Uh Constantine?" They had question of of them was that Constantine was apparently familiar with that child, demon, whatever.
"Right." The man lit another cigarette but before he could even take one drag of it he side eyed the child staring up at him before he flicked it to the side. "Bats my demon son, Danny the Bats."
"Demon son?"
"Actually I am-" They watched how Constantine covered the child's, Danny's, mouth with his hand shushing the boy.
"What did I tell you about interdimensional secrets? That's right, do not talk about them to just anyone. We are not repeating the Green Lantern incident."
Should they feel offended? It felt like they should. They weren't just anyone.
"Constantine." Batman gruffly warned, but the man held up one hand towards them. Batman was definitely offended that Green Lantern got to learn something he wasn't getting to know on Constantine's watch.
"One moment Batsie. I need to- did you gremlin just lick my hand?!"
The moment Constantine removed his hand the child stuck his tongue out at the JL Dark member and made a break for it to hide behind Batman.
"Get back here you little..."
"No! I am always stuck at home, and you promised me I would get to see the watchtower at last month!"
Batman blocked Constantine from getting to who was apparently the man's demon son. Staring at the man as the boy grinned in triumph.
"Mate get out of the way, this kid needs to get grounded again."
"For what?"
"Being a chaos gremlin that won't listen."
The rest of the batfam had only one burning question on their mind. "Which demon was willing enough to have a child with Constantine?"
Well, except for Tim who had caught the little tidbit of interdimensional secret and was wondering who Danny really was.
#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp x dc#crossover#dpxdc#john constantine#bruce wayne#batfam#Constantine is babysitting danny#danny is a chaos gremlin#clockwork needed a break from the kid#thats why he pushed him to Constantine#Constantines coverstory is that danny is his demon son#its easier to say and hopefully more believable#constantine doesnt realize the consequences of saying that when facing Batdad#batdad feels like Constantine should not raise a child.l#even if its a presumed demon child#tim ia the onlyone who suspects that danny isnt a demon#Hal is in on the secret#random late night thoughts#tim drake#dick grayson#jason todd
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serving up suds!
parings: patrick zweig x fem!reader / art donaldson x tashi duncan
word count: 3.9k
summary: you and the rest of the girls on the tennis team need to figure out a way to earn money for new uniforms. your boyfriend suggests the best idea.
contains: SMUT 18+ with lots of cute boyfriend patrick plot, fluff, only contains art and tashi as side characters (sorry), suggestive language between art and tashi, oral (m receiving), inaccurate numbers probs, if you think anything else should be added, please let me know!
note: wrote this simply because i love and miss pookie patrick zweig so enjoy… i planned to post i choose you but wanted to post this instead! also, not edited – will be doing so shortly.
You stood in front of Coach Williams, arms crossed and brows furrowed, your frustration barely masked. “We don’t even have proper uniforms,” you said, voice tight. “They just told us to wear red tank tops and the shortest white shorts we could find. It’s ridiculous. No one takes us seriously.”
It had been a minor irritation at first, something you could almost shrug off as a small injustice. But when you found out that the boys' team, including your boyfriend Patrick, had crisp, matching uniforms—with collars and the school logo stitched on the chest—your irritation curdled into anger. They looked like a team. They looked respectable. And you? You and the other five girls on the team looked like a mismatched afterthought.
A few of you had approached Coach Williams, hoping she’d understand, hoping she’d do something. You told her how embarrassing it was to stand on the court, mismatched and disheveled, while the boys walked by in their pristine gear. She’d just sighed and said the school didn’t have the funds. “Those boys raised the money themselves,” she added, almost proud. “If you girls want uniforms that badly, you’ll have to do the same.”
You groaned. Right, like it was that simple. You had done the math in your head—the cost would be at least a thousand dollars to get anything decent, something that would make you all look polished and cohesive. You wanted sharp collars, the school name embroidered in neat white stitching over your hearts, maybe even matching skirts. But there were only six of you, and $200 each was a lot to ask from college girls already juggling tuition, textbooks, meals, and a list of other expenses that never seemed to end.
The thought gnawed at you for days, and finally, you did something you never would’ve considered before. You went to Patrick. The two of you were sprawled out on the campus quad, the grass prickling your skin, the sun warm on your back. Patrick was fiddling with a Rubik's Cube he’d picked up from god knows where, twisting it clumsily, his focus entirely absorbed. You were trying to study, your math textbook open in front of you, but the thought of those damn uniforms kept distracting you. You sighed, louder than usual, trying to get his attention. He didn’t look up.
Another sigh, this one practically a groan. Patrick smirked, eyes still fixed on the colored squares in his hands. “Something on your mind?” he asked, voice teasing, as if he was enjoying your distress.
“Actually, yeah,” you said, sitting up and crossing your legs. “The girls’ tennis team needs uniforms.” He finally glanced up, confusion flickering in his eyes. “And I was wondering…” you trailed off, giving him a mischievous grin before reaching out to tickle his side. He jerked away, laughing, and caught your wrist. “...if you could, you know, maybe donate a little to help out.”
“You’re cute,” he said, kissing your cheek. “But I’m broke. Spent my allowance for the month already.”
Your head slumped against his chest, and you whined, letting the sound drag out, like a child who didn’t want to go to bed. “C’mon, Patrick. We need this.”
He chuckled, but you could sense his patience thinning. “Why don’t you do a fundraiser or something?” he suggested. “I don’t know, a bake sale?”
It was a simple idea, but it sparked something. You sat up straight, eyes bright with sudden inspiration. “A car wash!” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “We could do a car wash! Who wouldn’t want to donate to a group of girls in bikinis?”
Patrick’s smile faded. “Wait, I meant like selling cookies or something, not—”
But you were already on your feet, packing your things, a plan forming in your mind. Oh you’ll be selling cookies all right. “Thanks, babe! I’ll call you later,” you said, barely looking back as you headed off to find the other girls.
Patrick’s voice trailed after you, a mix of amusement and resignation. “Great. This is going to end well, I’m sure.” But you didn’t care. For the first time in days, you felt a thrill of hope. If it took a little shamelessness to raise the money, so be it. At least the girls’ team would finally have the chance to be seen.
You stood outside Art Donaldson’s dorm room, tapping your foot impatiently, half-wishing you didn’t have to do this. You were almost certain Tashi was hooking up with him. Everyone on the courts could sense the weird tension between them, the way they eyed each other during practice. It wasn’t admiration for his technique, that was for sure. Art was talented, sure, but he played like a baby deer—deft, but awkwardly loose, stumbling into his own brilliance.
Your knuckles rapped softly against the door, and when it finally creaked open, you caught sight of Art’s glassy eyes and his half-buttoned shirt. You had to stifle a laugh. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and not because he was taking a nap. “Uh, is Tashi around?” you asked, already guessing the answer. Art glanced over his shoulder, almost as if he was checking to see if she was still there.
“Yeah, but she’s busy,” he said, with a casual shrug that didn’t quite hide his irritation.
“I’m sure,” you replied, tilting your head with a knowing grin. You leaned past him, raising your voice. “Tashi, come out here! I’ve got an idea!” Art winced, his expression morphing into a tight-lipped smile, the kind you give when someone’s overstaying their welcome. “She’ll be out in a minute,” he muttered, stepping back to let you linger in the doorway.
You could hear the faint sounds of shuffling before Tashi appeared, her hair tousled and her expression caught somewhere between glee and annoyance. “What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
“Patrick gave me the best idea,” you said, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. She didn’t even try to hide her skepticism—those words didn’t belong in the same sentence, and she knew it.
“No, really,” you insisted, giving her a playful shove. “We should do a fundraiser!”
Tashi’s face softened slightly, but her arms remained crossed, a single brow arching. “A fundraiser?”
“Yes! Think about it—tight bikinis, soapy cars, a bunch of frat boys with too much cash to spare. We’d make bank!” You bounced on your toes, grinning—your excitement spilling out uncontrollably.
She scoffed, but you caught the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Maybe she was amused, or maybe it was just the sheer absurdity of the situation. “I’m not selling my body to a bunch of frat boys,” she said, shaking her head firmly.
“You’re literally in there with Art Donaldson,” you shot back, your shoulders slumping with exasperation.
Tashi’s eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “So, what’s that supposed to mean?”
You let out an awkward laugh, waving your hands. “Oh, nothing. Just making an observation.” You could see her jaw tense, but you pressed on, undeterred. “Anyway, I’m telling the other girls. We’re doing this, with or without you.” You winked, trying to keep things light, but Tashi’s expression was unreadable as she watched you turn and leave.
A week later, you found yourself in your dorm room, sorting through an array of colorful bikini tops. The whole plan felt like a gamble, but you were determined to make it work. You wanted it to be fun, at least, if you were going to be out there scrubbing cars for spare change. Patrick was sprawled on the edge of your bed, watching with a bemused expression. “You’re seriously going through with this?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
“You suggested it!” you argued, as you adjusted the lettering on a handmade sign with your glitter gel pens.
“I suggested you bake cookies and sell them on campus,” he corrected, waving his hand as if to swat away the absurdity of your plan. “This is not what I meant.”
“We’re just washing cars,” you said, shaking your head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And besides, it’s for a good cause.” You added a few more swirls and hearts to the sign, mockingly repeating his earlier words in a high-pitched voice before tossing a pink towel at him.
Patrick caught the towel and laughed, shaking his head. “You’re something else.”
Grabbing your keys and the finished signs, you turned to him, flashing a grin. “Walk me over there,” you said, already halfway out the door.
He groaned, dragging himself to his feet. “I better get a free car wash out of this,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. The two of you headed down the hall, and as you passed by, you could almost imagine the scene—the sun beating down, water glistening, and a line of cars full of guys willing to fork over their cash just to see a group of girls make a splash. Maybe it was shameless, but you were desperate, and desperate times called for bold, glittery, bikini-clad measures.
The sun was barely up, but the day was already heating up as you and a few of the girls set up the buckets of sudsy water, sponges bobbing in the foam, and wrangled with the nearest hose. Patrick stood nearby, scanning the growing crowd like a bouncer at a club, his eyes narrowing at any guy who dared stare a little too long when you bent over to dip your sponge. He was protective like that, and maybe just a bit possessive, but you couldn’t deny it felt good having someone in your corner, even if he looked ready to body check anyone who ogled you.
You were just about to yell something smart at him when Tashi strolled up, the sound of her flip-flops soft on the concrete, and every head turned as she made her entrance. She was all long, tanned legs, glistening in the sunlight, a tiny bikini peeking out from under her daisy dukes, and she moved with a sort of effortless grace that made you want to both envy and applaud her. You let out a sharp whistle, catcalling her as she approached, unable to resist. She rolled her eyes.
“Careful, those eyes are gonna get stuck back there one day,” you said with a small smile on your lips, and you could tell she was enjoying the attention.
“You look so hot!” you squealed, bouncing on your toes. Tashi flicked her hair over her shoulder, pretending to be exasperated, but she knew she was killing it, and so did everyone else.
Hours passed, the sun climbing higher, scorching the asphalt, and the music thumped from the speakers you’d set up, loud enough to echo down the block. You and the girls took turns yelling at passersby, daring them to get their cars washed, and you couldn’t believe how fast the line grew. It felt like every guy within a five mile radius had suddenly remembered he needed a wash, and they queued up, engines idling, windows down, some leaning out just to get a better look.
Your bodies were practically spilling out of your clothes, skin glistening, slick with soap and sweat. You pressed up against car windows, sponges swirling over the glass, your laughter and chatter floating above the music. “Thank you!” you sang out, flashing bright smiles as you took crumpled bills from hands reaching out of car windows, a parade of faces you didn’t even recognize. You skipped over to where Patrick was standing, collecting the money, and tossed the latest stack of bills into the box he was holding.
The pink, glittery box which you wrote ‘Stick something in me!’ on. It was heavier than you’d expected; you were actually making bank.
Before you could turn back to the cars, Patrick caught your wrist and pulled you close, his hand warm and firm. He cupped your cheeks between his fingers, smushing them slightly, and before you could even register the movement, he kissed you hard, right there in front of everyone. It wasn’t gentle, wasn’t soft. It was a claim, a brand, like he was marking his territory for all to see.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low, but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. He wanted to remind you.
You blushed, caught off guard, but then a grin spread across your face. “I’m yours,” you repeated, just as firmly, before pulling him down and planting another kiss on his lips, making sure the message was clear. As you pulled back, you saw a few guys in line avert their eyes, and you laughed to yourself, a mix of pride and relief swelling in your chest. You had Patrick, you had the girls, and if things kept going this well, you’d have those uniforms too.
"Six-fifty… seven-fifty," Patrick counted, his voice low and steady, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft pinks and purples. You were sprawled out across the lawn, grass tickling your bare arms, and you watched him with a warm, tired smile, the kind of smile you give when everything feels just right for once. It had been a long, sweaty day, but now the breeze was gentle, like a cool kiss against your skin, and you felt almost weightless. Your body thrumming with a sense of accomplishment.
“Okay, that’s great!” you said, grabbing his arm, a burst of giddy excitement surging through you. Around you, the girls broke into their own cheers, hugging and high-fiving each other, still buzzing from the success of the day.
“And $100 from me,” Patrick said, pulling out a crisp bill from his wallet and tossing it into the box with a casual flick. The girls swarmed him, shaking his shoulders and showering him with thank-yous, calling him sweet, generous, the best. Even Tashi, who’d been leaning coolly against Art, broke into a grin, and she nudged him with her elbow. Art, who’d been half-pretending not to care, rolled his eyes but couldn’t resist. With a reluctant sigh, he parted with another $100, mumbling under his breath as he handed it over.
“Fine,” he said, almost as if the word hurt, but he was grinning a little, too, when the girls shrieked and patted his back. Rich people, you thought, shaking your head with a smirk. They always made it seem like giving was a struggle when it barely scratched the surface of their wallets.
You took a breath, pushing yourself up to your feet and looking at the small circle of girls around you, their faces flushed and glowing under the dimming sky. "I just want to say… thank you," you started, your voice slightly hoarse from yelling all day but still earnest. "I know this wasn’t exactly easy, but we did it. And I’m really proud." You reached into your own wallet, pulling out a $50 bill, twirling it between your fingers, and held it up like a trophy. “Here’s to us. And new uniforms!”
The girls erupted, their cheers echoing across the lawn, loud and jubilant, as if they’d just won a championship. For a moment, it felt like they had. The line between a football team scoring a last minute touchdown and a group of college girls hustling for their dignity had blurred, and you all basked in the glow of it, even as the day faded into night.
Later, you stumbled back to your dorm, too exhausted to think but too exhilarated to sleep. You flopped down on your bed, sinking into the mattress, letting out a long, satisfied sigh. You barely had time to close your eyes before Patrick followed, landing on top of you with a playful thud, his chin digging uncomfortably into your stomach.
“Ow,” you laughed, swatting at his head as he tried to adjust, mumbling an absent apology. He shifted, then propped himself up, and you cradled his face in your hands, tilting it up so you could look into his eyes. They were the soft blue of summer berries, glinting with mischief and tenderness, and you felt a sudden rush of affection that made your chest ache a little.
“I have the best boyfriend in the world,” you said, the words coming out soft, almost like a secret you were finally ready to admit. Patrick’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, something he did so rarely it was almost a treat to see. He gave you a shy, crooked smile, and you could tell he was savoring the moment, letting it hang in the air between you.
Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, slow and careful, his mouth tasting faintly of your pomegranate chapstick. It was gentle at first, then firmer, like he was memorizing every bit of sweetness. When he pulled back, his eyes were still half-lidded, and his lips curved into a teasing smile.
“So, what’s the reward for being the best boyfriend?” he murmured, his gaze flicking over your face, taking in every detail as if he hadn’t already committed them to memory. His eyelashes fluttered, casting a silhouette across his cheeks, and you felt a shiver of warmth spread through you.
His reward for enduring the humid, sticky air all day, the sun beating down relentlessly on his already sunkissed skin, was right here, pressed against him. He had been patient, sitting there with the box of crumpled bills, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes darting protectively every time someone lingered a little too long on you. He deserved something for putting up with the heat, the endless chatter, and the occasional, awkward guy who looked like he wanted to challenge him just for standing there. And this was it. You, warm and pliant under his hands, your fingers tangled in his hair, lips brushing his, teasing, like you were savoring every second as much as he was.
You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head in mock contemplation. “Hmm, I guess I’ll have to think of something…” you said, running your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until your noses touched. “Maybe a little more of this,” you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke, letting the promise linger in the space.
You rolled over, his back sinking into the worn mattress. You let your lips graze his jaw, then drifted down to his neck. He shifted under your touch, laughter mingling with a nervous squirm as your breath tickled his skin. “You’re so good to me,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his earlobe. “So supportive,” another kiss at his temple. “And so, so handsome.” A faint smile broke across his face, eyes closed, lost in the moment.
You let your fingers glide over the cool, metallic buttons of his shorts, tracing each engraved design as if it were spelling out something only you knew. You helped him pull them off, giggling as you threw them across the room. Your hand dipped into the dark mouth of his boxers, rummaging past his trimmed bush of curls, until your fingers closed around the smooth, familiar shape.
His hard cock slid out, catching the light above, precum gleaming, almost tauntingly. You held it up to your mouth, breathing in the faint trace of scent that lingered, delicate but intoxicating.
You stared at it for a moment, feeling a slow, subtle warmth unfurl in your chest. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at your lips, like the beginning of a secret, and you could feel the tension building under your skin, pooling low in your stomach. Something about holding it in your hand made you feel powerful, like you were in control.
The head was your favorite color—deep, cherry red and glistening like a polished gem when you pulled back his foreskin slowly. You slid it between your lips, supple and sweet. Your tongue circled over his tip, feeling the tiny slit. His sap dissolving against your taste buds. You closed your eyes, savoring the taste.
His arousal melted on your tongue, sweet and syrupy. A thin string of saliva stretched between your lips and the tip when you pulled it away, snapping when you moved it too far. It was deliciously wrong, like sneaking a piece of forbidden fruit.
"You’re so sweet," you murmured, almost to yourself, but loud enough for Patrick to hear. He glanced up, his expression lustful and high.
“Wanna taste it?” you asked, slightly lolling your head to the side. The way you said it was innocent, almost playful, but there was a glint in your eyes, a subtle edge to the offer. You leaned up to him, grazing your tongue over his lips. He moaned at the contact. You grabbed his jaw, letting the glob mixed of your saliva and himself fall onto the heart of his tongue. He groaned, letting it slide down his throat. “I love you.” he whimpered, sloppily inhaling your lips.
You furrowed your brows, mocking the desperate look in his eyes. You watched him, a slow smile curling on your lips. You hadn’t realized how much you’d loved being in control. It reminded you that, for once, you weren’t following the rules, and that felt more delicious than anything you’d tasted in a long, long time.
You pumped your hand up and down his shaft, practically begging him to release all over your pretty face. “You wanna come for me?” you asked with a sweet, honey tone. “I’m so close,” he panted, fingers tangling between your strands of hair. “Fu– please,” he cried, mouth gaping open while hips desperately bucked toward you.
Taking him in your mouth again, you slapped his stiff cock against your tongue, the familiar sensation flooding your mouth as saliva pooled in your cheeks. His fluids mixed with spit, oozing down your lips and pooling on your chin. It felt disgusting, the wetness creeping along your skin, but deep down, every drop was a small victory for making him feel good.
With each stroke, you watched the fizzy mixture drip, the mess clinging to your hand and wrist as you pumped vigorously. You squeezed him in your palms, watching him sputter. Come painting across your face. You bit your lip, trying to steady your hand, hoping you milked him empty. His slit deflating a little more with every squeeze. You could see the droplets peeking through, mocking you.
He threw his head back, catching his breath. “Feel good?” you teased, sucking your fingers. You slid your body up his, his bare cock still hard, brushing against the skin of your thigh. His body jolting at the touch.
"Thank you for your help today, baby," you murmured, letting your lips brush gently against the tip of his nose, a soft, affectionate kiss.
“Anytime,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “And don’t hesitate to bring me any other problems you’ve got,” he added, only half-joking, clearly savoring the reward you’d just given him. “I’m always glad to help.”
You laughed, the sound light and warm, as you slipped off the bed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you teased, padding across the room toward the bathroom to shower. You glanced back at him once more, a smile still tugging at the corners of your mouth, “You coming?” you ask, disappearing into the bathroom.
He slid off the bed in a hurried, awkward motion, the springs letting out a sharp, staccato creak that echoed through the room. His feet barely touched the floor before he was shuffling off, making his way into the bathroom behind you.
#challengers#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#challengers fanfic#patrick zweig smut#tashi duncan#tashi duncan x reader
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Precious🩵
Summary: Reader gets separated from Daryl at the start and finds a farm with a wonderful family, she finds out she’s pregnant and one thing leads to another and a new group settles onto the farm
•Masterlist•
I waited for Daryl at our little house in the small town we grew up in, I had been gone to the city for the day when everything happened, I was able to find a car and drive back home praying that Daryl would be there waiting for me but I knew it would be a long shot, I waited for a few days until the food ran out and decided if I was ever going to find him again then I’ll have to go find him myself
So I pack up my bag with essentials, clothes, water, snacks that were left over and weapons for Daryl’s hunting collection, I drove for what felt like forever no signs of human life only blood and rotting corpses who some how took over the earth
I came to the interstate seeing the cars upon cars piled up blocking my way so I turned around hoping to find a back road to get around when I spotted a sign “Greene’s Farm” if the farm was still standing maybe it could have some food or more water, as I pulled up the drive way to a large white farm house people filtered out, it felt surreal to see people, live people
I got out of the car as the came down the stairs, it was an older man a girl around my age and a younger blonde, then what seemed to be an older couple and a younger boy
“How’d you find this place?” The man with the white hair asked
“I’ve been on the road looking for my husband, I got turned around in the road and saw your farm sign, I just need some rest” I say as I run my hand down my belly
When I went to the city when everything happened I found out I was pregnant and I was over the moon about finally starting a family with Daryl but now I’m scared, scared about delivery, this baby never meeting their wonderful father
The man noticed my movement and his harsher demeanor changed to one of pity
“Come dear we’ll get something set up for you”
They let me settle in the spare room after feeding me some eggs and fresh fruit, the house was cozy and they are lovely people but I can’t help that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling I always got when Daryl would be gone too long, he always soothed me even if he didn’t talk much he showed me comfort with actions of love and care
Whenever he scrounged up enough money he’d buy me little gifts, he got me a silver necklace with a bow on it which I never take off, I never got a wedding ring because I refused and said we should keep the money for the future and that I don’t need some diamond to show my love for him
“Knock knock” I look up to the doorway and see Maggie standing there with a wide smile
“Daddy wanted me to check on you, well both of you”
“Oh yes I think we’re okay, I only found out about two weeks ago”
“That’s when you first had symptoms?” She asked as she sat next to me on the bed
“Yeah, the nausea and a little bump”
“I’d say you’re about two months pregnant then, signs only show up later, does the father know?” I shock my head feeling my heart clench in pain
“I never got the chance, I don’t even know where he is but somehow in my heart I believe we will find our ways back to each other” she ran a comforting hand up my back and smiled
“You’ll find him sweetheart you never know what might happen!” She said before she left the room giving me space to finally rest
It’s been 2 months now on the farm and it was peaceful for some reason this farm has gone untouched from the world that’s filled with death, I haven’t stopped looking for Daryl, every other day I’d search farther and farther out but there was no sign, as I was walking back to the farm I saw two men and Otis running through the field, I got back to the house and Maggie told me of everything that was happening, Otis accidentally shot the boy who Hershel was working on now
I sat outside on the steps as the young boys father came out obviously in shock covered in blood, he sat next to me completely disheveled, I took a rag I had in my pocket and wiped some blood he smeared on his face
“Hershel is a good surgeon and a great man, your son is in good hands” my words seemed to calm him down and what he needed right now was a distraction it seems
“I remember when my wife found out she was pregnant with Carl, we were young but I was excited this little life was gonna be born, so how far along are you?”
“About 4 months now, I’m not sure if it’s a boy or girl, I got separated from the father when I found out but I’ve kept looking, I know he’s out there, he’s a stubborn man but god is he strong and pretty smart too”
“Yeah I know the type, got a man like that back in our group, we lost a little girl and he’s been looking for her day and night”
“Maggie should be back soon she must have found your group by now, it’ll be okay” almost as if she heard me I see her horse ride up the field with cars following, then I hear the rumble of a motorcycle and it brought back so many memories I had with Daryl, when he’d work on his bike I’d sit with him, when we’d go for a drive at night together, moments I kept dear to my heart, zoned out in nostalgic thought I didn’t notice the group coming to the steps
“Y/n?” The grumble to the voice that I fell in love with, I look up to see him standing there just as the day I last saw him still as handsome, I couldn’t stand up fast enough before I was pulled off the stairs and into his arms
“I can’t believe it’s you, I looked everywhere, I missed you so much Daryl” I cried into his shoulder as his group was most likely watching this moment unwind
“It’s me sunshine, I found ya” he pulled back and we just looked into each others eyes for some time before he looked me over stopping abruptly on my belly
He opened his mouth but he seemed to be at a lose for words
“It’s yours if that’s what you’re wondering?”
“My baby?” He asked placing his hands on either side of my bump
“Yeah our lil baby Dixon”
After everything settled down and people set up tents I decided to stay with Daryl since they were using my room for Carl, I was sitting across from him on my sleeping bag and he couldn’t take his eyes off my bump
“Do you want to feel?” He thought for a moment before he nodded, I lifted my ivory dress just above my belly feeling his warm hands caress my bare skin
“How did this happen?”
“Well remember that night you came back from the bar with Merle and I was wearing my pink sundress you love” realization dawned as a blush crossed his face
“Yeah that’s how it happened” I laugh missing how easily it is to embarrass him
“Where have you been?” I asked as we laid next to each other
“Found a camp outside of Atlanta with Merle, idiot went and got himself stuck on a roof don’t know where he is now, then we went to the CDC and that was a bust then that leads to now finally some sanity with ya”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get bite, the farms been secure so I haven’t had any troubles”
“And ya never have to with me ‘round”
It’s been 6 months and Daryl and I had a beautiful 1 month old baby girl, it was painful giving birth but with Daryl by my side it made it a bit easier, hopeful
She was a wonderful little thing, barely fussy, brown hair light blue eyes just like Daryl, and he was over the moon about her he praised me over and over for giving him such a gift he treasured
We were able to move into the house to make it more comfortable for the three of us, we named her Lily because Carl thought it suited her perfectly so we just went with it
I walked into the room seeing Daryl sat on the bed with her in his arms her little hands reaching to pull on his now grown out hair, I sat beside them curling up to Daryl’s side
“She loves you so much D”
“Not as much as I love her”
“You know I think she’s your favourite”
“Nah she loves us both sunshine, I love ya”
“I love you too Daryl, forever”
#twd fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#twd x reader#daryl dixon#twd fluff#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion smut#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl dixon twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixion x reader#daryl drabbles#twd#the walking dead series
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New Beginnings
Leon Kennedy X AFAB!Reader (Pictured Leon between Re2 &RE4R) Warnings: FLUFF, Slight Angst, Dad Leon, Summary: After being sent to training, he returns home to meet his new girl for the time.. This is based off this ERAs and requested by anon to extend it!
Leon,
I’m not sure if you will get this, mom wasn't sure if they would let you have these whilst you were in training but I wanted you to get the updates still. I went for my first scan today, they said everything looks good. I've been craving lots of cucumbers. Mom said she thinks I'll turn into one if I keep going. They also lied about morning sickness…it's all the damn time. The first trimester is almost over, I've sent you a photo of the scan and the bump
Stay safe.
Your love <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leon,
I’ve been missing you a lot recently, our little girl is kicking all the time. I think she gets it from you! Oh no, I revealed the gender…I can't believe we are having a little girl. Mom and Dad helped me set up a new nursery in a flat that I managed to get close to them. I’ve given you another photo of the bump and the latest scan. I think I've popped now...cravings are still cucumbers and morning sickness has subsided.
Stay safe,
Your love xx
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leon,
Not long to go now, the nursery is all setup. I chose an enchanted woodland theme. Lots of little creatures hiding around the room. Filled with greens and it just feels cosy I can't wait for you to see it. I think she's about ready to come out now, she's kicking like mad and dropped really low. I'm scared but I know that you have been brave all this time so I'll do it for us. I really hope you are okay…I miss you like crazy. Even though she feels like I have a part of you with me.
Stay safe
Love
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leon,
Wow, what a whirlwind, our little girl was born a couple of months ago. She's been a handful so it took me a while to write this letter…if they even give them to you! The delivery is rough but worth it. She has the cutest blond hair and blue eyes you wouldn't believe! I've picked my favourite pictures of the past few months…I know they'll be returned to me soon enough anyway.
See you soon
Love xx
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leon stared at the letters from where he spread them out on the little tray on the plane. His reflection is sharper and colder than when you last saw him. Guilt and nerves collided through his system like a drug, his stomach bubbling with anxiety as they announced the landing. Your handwriting hadn't changed over the years, always the same cursive font that was written in the margins of his textbooks. He smiled at the small doodles decorating the edges where he knew you were just thinking of what to say. It felt unreal like he was going to wake up to some sick dream the world decided to play on him. To take away this tiny lifeline of happiness he had left.
He wondered what would happen if he didn't return if he left you both untouched by the taint that he carried with him. The rucksack of nightmares he had seen in the past two years, the one he had to train his shoulders to carry. His hands were rough, his eyes piercing. Would you even be able to find the same soul that you fell in love with before?
And then there was his daughter, something born out of pure innocent love. A romance blossoming on the white picket fence fantasy he always dreamed of…only to now have a father who was unsure if he could provide that for any of you. If he could even step up to be the man she needed. The one she would run to when she needed help with boys or the kids bullying him. The few campmates he did get along with told him that he didn't miss the precious moments. That there was still time for him to form a loving bond between father and daughter. A small part of him inside hated the photos as they were evidence of everything he missed, all the small kicks and the cravings you experienced. Not being able to soothe you when it all got too much just like you did that night.
The attendant announced the plane landing, the runway coming into view masking his reflection. Leon folded all the letters again, having remembered every letter and word you imprinted on the page. The ink smudged on some of them. The pictures were tucked in the cheap wallet he bought when he was at the airport safe for when he needed them. His movements were calculated and careful, Leon's mind already aware of everyone around him as he moved. He helped the older lady next to him with her back, his arm held out to guide her off the plane. He watched the bittersweet reunion as her daughter found her. Their cries of happiness blend into the chaos with the other people around them, the further he gets away. Worry settled when he thinks about accidentally walking past you as he left the gate. His eyes scanned for any figure he remembered. The silhouette that visited him in his dreams was like an angel. Leon often swore he could still feel your phantom touch the next morning as his cheek always felt slightly warmer as he completed his early laps of the base. The warmth was always welcomed, however, instead of the coldness of Krauser's stare or his words as he corrected him again.
Then he saw it, the cursive writing of some paper sign in the corner of his eye. The bold letter was held by a woman who scanned her eyes over the crowd. His name and the fingers that grasped the sign were yours.
Leon took a moment, watching as people continued to move around him. Taking advantage of his hardened appearance to watch you. His eyes are not failing to notice the young girl on your hip. The now two-year-old waved at people as they passed, her hand grasping the charm on your necklace tightly. The photos didn't do her justice, she looked exactly like him. Her piercing blue eyes met his. They always said kids notice more than adults.
He watched the way her curious stare ran over him, trying to figure him out…almost like he was familiar to her. You had noticed she’d gone quiet. Turning your head to look at where the young girl had now rested it on your shoulder. He watched as you asked her what was wrong, shifting her in your arms slightly. Your hip jolts out to support her weight better. Leon's feet didn't move, they couldn't. Right, there was all he ever wanted. Did he deserve it? Was it actually his? The perfect dream, the one he saw every single night in that stupid bunk amongst the snores of his bunkmates.
His whole body froze as you looked at him, the whole world stopped. Your love washed over him like a tide crashing against rocks. It was fierce, strong and unstoppable. The current is already pulling him into your ocean of affection. His little girl began to cry as you passed her to your mum. Your feet are already pounding on the airport carpet as you bolt it to him. He didn't know what else to do but welcome you, like the hole in his heart was finally filled. The two years apart suddenly ended with a new beginning.
You collided into his chest with such force he stumbled. His own emotions leak out into the softness of your skin. Words failed him, they seemed to fail you as well as you held him in silence. Your smaller frame fits against his own with no change. However, you could feel the new muscles. His hardened grip is proof of his changes not that you cared about them. You would learn to love this new version just as you promised on that one night. Your promise was never forgotten when he left in that black car. Your heart is still soul-tied to him.
Leon's breath faltered when you pulled away, his biceps subconsciously pulling you in closer. Your eyes met his, your warm smile melting his tough gaze. “There he is,” you whispered. At your words, he crumbled, his frame shaking as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He tried to smile, to muster up the courage to say anything. Part of you regretted bringing your daughter now fearing he would be overwhelmed in meeting her in this state. Yet to his credit, he stood up straighter, a small smile filling his features. His hand cradled your face bringing you into a long-awaited kiss. He didn't need to speak. You knew exactly what he wanted to say. You could feel the love radiating from him, pouring it into the first kiss. His soul begging for redemption from situations you didn't know he had experienced. His hands were almost afraid to touch you, to swallow you in the darkness he had retreated himself into.
You heard her before you felt her, the small stumbling steps of your two-year-old as she collided with your legs almost taking you off your feet.
You watched Leon's eyebrows pinch in concern as he felt your body buckle, hands sprawled out on his chest to catch yourself. Your daughter's hands gripped at your legs, small tugs on your shirt as she whimpered to be picked up. Leon's demeanour changed when you did. His body regained the stiffness as he looked at her closely. Their eye contact was intense both trying to figure out what to make of each other. “Baby, This is daddy remember?” You prompted, eyes solely focused on the small girl. Leon was grateful for that, you couldn’t see his flinch at the word. The small girl nodded her hand outstretched to him.
That was the thing about children, always curious. No matter if they were reaching out towards unknown danger. You would have protected her if you thought it was dangerous. Part of him wanted to back away, careful not to let the innocent fingers touch his blood-stained skin afraid if they pulled away her tiny hands would be strained red. You knew otherwise, you always did. Allowed these hands to cradle your face, to hold you when he finally returned home. Her hand touched the stubble that coated his cheeks, the small strands of hair prickly against her tiny fingers. You watched him process the touch, his frame softening arms finally wrapping around the both of you.
“Daddy” The girl muttered, a small toothy grin growing on her features. Her small arms wrapped around his neck as he swung from you to him. She was so small against him, his large arms hiding her from the surrounding crowd. His other one holding you close. “Thank you…I’m sorry I wasn’t..” Leon finally spoke. You shook your head, “You were always here, How do you think she knows who you are?” You smiled. He was home, different, but home. Your parents picked up his bags as they followed you both home. He was too busy carrying his whole world in his arms anyway.
#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy imagine
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Our September & October recs ❤️
make lemonade by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@dot524: This author consistently posts stellar works but I often finish wanting more of that world. This one is nice and long — yay! I loved this meet-cute where Alex’s daughter Claudia has a lemonade stand and Henry is one of their favorite customers. This was a bit of an exploration of divorced dad (single dad) Alex. His mixed feelings about coparenting and starting a new relationship were nicely developed. Such a great warm fuzzy fic, with a nice bit of angst and character development mixed in to make things interesting. And I loved the kid character, Claudia!
falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This road trip AU is so fun, partly because of how soft our favorite boys are, but also just because of Alex's bright personality throughout the whole thing, and the faith and hope that's a critical part of the book!
we should get married by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@suseagull04: I had heard people talking about this green card marriage AU for months, and the hype was definitely warranted (as with all of this author's writing)! Little details from the book used in a new way, instant attraction, both of them being exactly what the other needs, exploration of other relationship dynamics within the book... this fic has so much depth in its 4 chapters, and it's fantastic!
Cleansing Downpour by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)
@na-dineee: It often seems like things between June and Nora were always easy, like they were just meant to be. But what if it wasn't that simple? Feeling stuck in life, June is caught between writing a book she’s starting to hate, and navigating her growing feelings for her best friend. A beautifully written story of change, friendship and love, and figuring out who you really are.
runaway now and forever more by tonystarked (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Aged Alex and Henry, a US Senator and an English Prince, have been pining for each other for what feels like forever. Could tonight, at a glamorous charity event, finally be the night they open up to one another? This beautifully heart-wrenching and incredibly poetic fic has been stuck in my head ever since I read it!
The Candy Tax by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely adorable! It's the perfect nostalgia trip for anyone who went trick or treating, and it incorporates some of the pop culture references from the book in the best ways that just add to what make this fic so cute!
Heart enough by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)
@suseagull04: What if Henry's the one who has to travel for the apology tour and instead of celebrating New Year's, they have a Halloween party? This fic adds so many layers and soft moments to the original, but still includes the heart and references we all love!
Halloween at Kensington by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This is the Arthur POV of Halloween when his kids are little I didn't know I needed until I read it- this is so adorable, and Henry and Phillip's characterization in it is perfect!
I was cold as a stone (but I found what I'm lookin' for) by @miharaikko (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Author Henry has retreated to a small, secluded cabin in the mountains, hoping it will spark some writing inspiration. That's where he meets Alex, the owner of the cabin... The mountain and campfire vibes are absolutely wonderful. It's such a fluffy and heartfelt one-shot – just as recommendable as the other fics in the Flufftober: A Red Umbrella Collection.
Red, White and Royal Switcheroo by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This body swap AU left me wondering how everything would have been different in the rest of the story- it's that good! It has the heart and content of the original, plus moments that are brand new- and watching the boys pretend to be each other is fantastic!
Oblivion by @milowren29 (book-verse)
@dot524: This story has been on my reading list for a while and wow, did it live up to expectations! Alex and Henry are kidnapped during their visit to the hospital, and they trauma-bond during their experience. But what will happen afterward? How will this change things between them? The action, angst, and longing in here is spot-on and the storytelling is so well-done.
Sounds of Someday by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)
@na-dineee: USA 1972, three weeks on a road trip on the 'road to nowhere' heading toward Texas: writer Henry and farm boy Alex. This fic is so layered and full of hurt and emotions. The ending completely knocked the wind out of me. An absolute masterpiece, please everyone, read it – it's phenomenally good in terms of language, storytelling, and capturing the spirit of the time !!
blizzards and broken boundaries by @gayhoediaz (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Age gap – I love this trope with Henry and Alex. Here, it’s a 20+ year difference: Alex is a student, Henry his professor. Alex makes the move, Henry is very amenable. The alternating POV is so cleverly done, the tags say PWP, but I definitely felt all the feelings. Absolutely delicious!
These violent delights by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Henry as a vampire hunter in this fic is such an intriguing concept and the backstory of it and the fic's conflict is so well done!
With magic soakin' my spine, can you read my mind? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Pining and magic and revelations abound in this fic that's written so well, it gave me chills. This fic is definitely a must-read if you want a canon divergent fic that has just a hint of magic!
to belong to a family (even beyond this world) by @read-and-write- (book-verse)
@suseagull04: The Mexican part of Alex's heritage absolutely shines through in this- and this is definitely a fic you want to read if you want Día de los Muertos fic and all the Arthur feels! I also love all the neurodiversity in this fic!
A Beautiful Reality by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Priest!Henry is back. The second part of The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To Is When I'm Alone With You is out!! And – surprise: He’s not a priest anymore. But it’s not that easy to shake off those deeply rooted beliefs and Catholic guilt. Luckily, Alex is so patient and totally in love.
The Brightest Star by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)
@dot524: Single dad Alex meets children’s book author Henry, and they connect immediately. The obstacle in this story is Alex’s sense of duty to his daughter, Bia. She’s quick and creative, and she’s brimming with opinions. I’m a bit picky about OC’s and kids in fics, but this one was so well done. It’s full of fun dialogue and well-realized feelings and angst. Definitely check it out!
A Love That Haunts the Land by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Once again, this author has blended Mexican culture and RWRB in a way that's so authentic- plus there's magic! This is one you won't want to miss!
check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️
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Lessons in Love
In which Satoru Gojo seems to fall for Megumi's new tutor.
MDNI
Summary: You look for a private student to tutor for some extra money and end up as the private tutor of Megumi Fushiguro, a high school student and the adoptive son of Satoru Gojo.
CW: Non-Sorcerer AU, not proofread, Satoru is a single parent, kind of bratty Megumi, mentions of death
Part 1
"Hello, is this Ms. Y/L/N?"
You put down the pen you were marking papers with. "Uh yeah, that's me. Who's speaking?"
The feminine voice waves through the phone, "I'm Yui, I saw your advertisement for private tutoring online. Are you still looking for students?"
Your attention is now fully on the call, the half-marked exam sheet almost forgotten, "Yes, yes, I am."
"Great," Yui replied, "Are you open to tutoring a 9th grader?"
"Yeah, any grade from 5 to 10 is okay."
"Alright then, could you give me some information on how you conduct uour sessions?"
"Alright so, I'm a teacher myself, so I am free any time after 5 PM. I can come by your house for two hours, thrice a week."
"That sounds perfect. When can you start?"
You glance at the calendar placed on your desk. "It's the start of the month today, I can come by your house at around 6 PM, if that's okay with you."
"Okay then, I'll text you the address. The student's name is Megumi Fushiguro. If the security stops you, just tell them you are his new tutor."
And that's how you end up in front of the 5-Star hotel. Your student lives at the penthouse of this hotel. If extravagance had a look, it would be this place. With long iron gates securing the entrance, the high technology security, and the almost shiny exterior make the place look like something straight out of a wealth-centric movie.
As you step into the penthouse, you are greeted with a kind looking woman, "You must be Ms. Y/L/N. Megumi sir is in his study room."
She leads you to the room and knocks at the door. "Come in," a voice grumbles from inside.
As you step in, you are greeted with a teenage boy with dark messy hair. He sits up straight on his chair when he spots you. He gestures at the chair next to him, asking you to sit. You have dealt with multiple brats in your teaching life, but something about him screams spoiled to a whole new level. Maybe it's the private school effect.
"Hi," you plaster a smile on your face, hoping it masks your insecurity, "I'm Y/N. You new tutor."
He gives you the slightest nod, "Megumi."
You sigh. This isn't going to be easy.
---
Two hours, 4 subjects, and the littlest conversation later, the tutoring session comes to an end.
"So we can end the session for today," you tell him, packing up your things, "Can I talk to your parent?"
"My parents are dead," he says bluntly, taking you by surprise. "You can talk to Gojo. He's... my guardian. He should be home by now." He gets up from his chair and leaves the study room, causing you to follow him subconsciously.
Soon, you find yourself in the lavish living room, a large chandelier hangs at the centre of the ceiling, beneath it is a long velvet couch, and on top of the couch is a man sitting.
Not just any man.
The most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on.
His white hair falls on his face- the same face that seems to carry the most charming smile known to mankind. His eyes... his blue eyes so bright even the Sun would be jealous. He gets up from the couch and approaches you, offering his hand.
You shake it almost hastily. Such pretty hands... wonder what it would feel like around your neck-
FOCUS.
"I'm Satoru Gojo," his smooth voice ripples through the air, breaking the silence.
"I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Megumi's new tutor."
His smile doesn't fade as he tilts his head sideways, "So I've heard. You'd spoken to my assistant earlier this morning, yes? Yui?"
"Oh," you say, remembering the previous conversation, "Yes, I had spoken to her."
"Great. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"That wouldn't be necessary-" Megumi begins, but shuts up immediately as Gojo flashes his dimpled smile at him.
"How about you go back to your room, Megumi?" Megumi rolls his eyes subtly and leaves you both alone.
"Please, have a seat, Ms. Y/L/N." He tells you, gesturing at the velvet couch. You oblige politely.
"So, Yui tells me you are a teacher?" He asks you.
"Yes," you inform him, "I teach at a middle school."
"Ah, I see. And you are capable of tutoring a high school student?"
"Yes, yes, I am. I've been teaching since I graduated college. It's been almost 4 years now."
He nods thoughtfully. "Megumi can be... difficult at times. He's a smart kid, and he took a few advanced classes. But now he's struggling to keep up."
You nod. "Yes, he's told me that."
"Good, good. So you'll be here thrice a week for a two hour session, am I right?"
"Right."
"And Megumi is your only student?"
"Right."
He gives you a cheeky smile. "Relax, this isn't an interrogation. I'm just making sure."
You hope with all your being that there's no blush crept on your face as you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, of course."
He checks the time before continuing. "It's late. Will you able to get back alone?"
"Yes, it won't be a problem, thanks for asking."
"Do you live far?"
"A little."
"Allow me to drop you off."
"What?! No! It's fine, really."
"I insist."
"You really don't have to, but thanks."
---
And that's how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Satoru Gojo's car.
A/N: This is the first time I'm sharing any of my writing online, and I know this isn't even that good. But I'm trying to get back into writing actively and I thought sharing it would motivate me further.
Divider by @saradika-graphics
#୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ Ro's Fics⋄ 𓍯#jjk x reader#jjk fandom#jjk drabbles#jjk fanfiction#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk smut#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk fluff#satoru x reader#satoru x y/n#satoru x you
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First gifts
Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
Sukuna-
He doesn't care for gifts, he doesn't even think they're necessary. Sat at the dining table messing around with your daughter's lips as you wiped the reminisce of milk off them. "Here" motioning towards his son, a fat limb from a turkey sat Infront of you. "What's this for?" Knowing that you couldn't eat all of that, nor your baby. "A gift, for him" a whole turkey leg for his son who couldn't even eat food yet?
"He can't eat food Ryo" sighing in defeat as you pushed it back. "So what does it want then?" Practically ordering you to tell him, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"Get him something he can wear Ryo." Motioning to the new clothes he needed since he grew so fast.
Nanami-
He makes it an effort to work overtime so that he could save up for the gift he wanted. Wanting to buy his daughter a crochet clothes.
Sat on the bed as you tried to burp your baby, seeing your husband walk in with a new hat which he recently brought made a smile appear on your face. "I wonder who that's for" smirking at him as he sat beside you, making the bed dip down a bit. "For my daughter" face peeking out from behind your arms as he put it on her, pushing it down so it didn't slip off. Handing you the small socks which could be out on later. Giggles heard from her mouth as she toyed with it, hands trying to rip it off her head, she always wanted to put something new in her mouth.
Geto-
Geto has been planning building blocks and blanket designs for a few months, you had always been craving physical touch during your pregnancy, always sleeping next to him as you had the blanket wrapped around your bodies.
Sitting next to his baby girl as she babbled on about something, toying with his robes and the blanket, I was starting to get on his nerves. "Do you want something to play with sweetheart?" Noticing the words coming out of her father's mouth but not knowing what he said she impulsively nodded. Taking out a few blocks with letters on one side and shapes on the other from the bag beside him. "Here" handing them towards her, already trying to stuff them in her mouth, before throwing it at him when she realized she couldn't. Sighing in response, nothing would ever satisfy such a spoiled girl. She must've gotten it from you.
Handing her the blanket which spelt her name and had different patterns on it, the main one being a patchwork. "How about this?" Eyes shining up as she saw it, her favourite characters underlining the bottom of it. Pointing to them. Trying to say the words 'papa' but nothing came out other than weird noises she made. "You like that?" It was clear that she liked it, already falling backwards onto the plush pillow.
Gojo-
He take such pride in himself, knowing he's the strongest and bragging about it every time his name is mentioned, so when he saw his beautiful baby boy for the first time, of course he had to give him something, your gift was the fact that you had a child now, that's what he said as he joked with you, till he saw your reaction, of course he was joking with you as he handed you your proper gift straight after. When it came to giving his son his first gift, he pulled out a plushie from his back, squeezing it in his face. White hair matching your son and him, matching dark blue uniform and a black blindfold, and probably bright blue eyes hidden underneath. You can guess who it is from the looks. "It's a plushie of me!" Seeing the disgust in your eyes as he displayed it, "In case he misses me whilst I'm away" trying to defend his actions as he placed it in the cot with him, fortunately he was sleeping or else he would've been crying from the mini Gojo.
Toji-
He hadn't planned a gift yet since he didn't think it was necessary. He was naturally warmer than everyone else, so whenever it was cold in the apartment you always snuggled up to him, laying on his warm body as you slept, glancing over at his baby, fully awake as she tried to twist and turn in the swaddle, noticing how cold it would be for a baby in here, he threw his clean zip up on him, he wanted to hold her and comfort her but was too scared that he'd crush her with his strength, opting for the safer version in his mind as he made sure it was tucked in.
#geto fluff#gojo fluff#sukuna fluff#nanami fluff#toji fluff#geto x reader#gojo x reader#sukuna x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#geto suguru#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro#sukuna ryomen#nanami kento#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk#𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊
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short n sweet
a/n- just pretend okay
~
liked by tchalamet, melissabarrera and 4,615,777 others
y/n please please please tonight!!
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tryinyn DONT TELL ME HES IN THE MUSIC VIDEO OMFGGGGGG
florencepugh spicy!!
tchalamet best set ever all because of you
snoozeyn when timothee is nominated for an oscar for this >>>
timsgf it's a music video he can't get nominated. and it's a shitty one at that, he was the best part
snoozeyn aren't you like 60?
wallowsyn WAIT WAIT WAIT
@chalametupdates just tweeted- Timothée and Y/n behind the scenes of Y/ns new music video!
@ynscurtains replied- BEST MV EVERRR
@timmysgf replied- I wonder how he feels about his girlfriend sexualizing herself for streams
@horroryn replied- HE'S NOT GONNA DATE YOU STFU
liked by tchalamet, sabrinacarpenter and 6,177,388 others
y/n please please please!!! enjoy the video, bitches. the actor in this one is super sexy
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rachelzegler that actor is really good!
y/n ik I'm so glad he auditioned
tchalamet superrrrrr sexy
y/n wow full of yourself much?
tchalamet I was talking about you 😔
pleaseyn timmy as a crazy ass criminal is just too awesome
goodgracesyn "men suck" and whole time she's dating timmy LMAOO she's so real
liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler and 3,387,827 others
y/n short 'n' sweet is all yours tonight
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tchalamet and you're all mine every night
mystyn I CLAIM COINCIDENCE ALREADY
ynsheadphones im so curious ab what the love songs ab timmy sound like
rachelzegler my favorite album ever
liked by y/n
timyn his comment 💀💀 so down bad
y/n just posted a story!
caption- damn maybe he should've released an album
liked by y/n, kidcudi and 6,716,773 others
tchalamet this beautiful girls album released today. bed chem is objectively my favorite, also juno.
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supergraphicyn juno omg he's a freak
shortyn LISTEN TO GOOD GRACES AND LEARNNNNNN
y/n who's the cute guy in the white jacket- oh wait he's sitting next to me rn nvm LOL
tchalamet liked
daylightyn bed chem.. lucky girl
tchalamet just posted a story!
caption- date night 😍😍
liked by haileybieber, tchalamet, madisonbeer and 5,717,888 others
y/n so.. what's everyone's favorite ?
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exesyn WHO MADE YOU WRITE DUMB AND POETIC
ynsdune BRO ITS SHAWN I SWEAR
tchalamet how does it feel to be this generations Shakespeare?
y/n liked
sabrinacarpenter I wish I made this wtf
y/n you've got it in you!!!
@companyyn just tweeted- WHOS THE CUTE BOY IN THE WHITE JACKET BITCH WHICH ONE
@beetleyn replied- also what fucking accent is she talking ab
@yn replied- idfk I needed a rhyme 🤷🏽♀️
@byeyn replied- HELLO!?!??! HEY GIRL
@infiniteyn replied- she's so fucking funny help
@laurieslaurence replied- he speaks french too so maybe that's what !!
@celebnews just tweeted- weeks after her new album released, Y/n L/n is seen happily with her boyfriend Timothée Chalamet. He was taking several pictures of her on a disposable camera. They stopped to say hi to fans and were apparently very kind and interactive.
@beliebyn replied- the way you started that scared the SHIT out of me omg never do that again celebnews
@comearoundyn replied- likely thing for them to do
@lovelyyn replied to @comearoundyn- what does your @ mean 😭😭😭😭
@modernyn replied- and we'll probably never see those pictures he took 💔💔
@mariasyn replied- ON TOP OF THE CHARTS AND LIVING HER BEST LIFE
liked by tchalamet, haileesteinfeld and 7,726,277 others
y/n to celebrate one month and all the love yall have given me, i wanted to release two other songs that i wrote after i finished the album. hope you enjoy!
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povyn BUSY WOMAN IS POP PERFECTION
paulsoneandonly oh goddd here we go, more shitty music 🙄
sweetyn I'm still not over coincidence girl WHO would do that to you
timsgf slim pickings is a crazy song to write when your bf is timothée
shortnyn can you shut the fuck up and get out of her comments for ONCE
liked by tchalamet
ynslipgloss I DIDNT WANT YOUR BITCH ASS ANYWAY🗣🗣 🎶
liked by y/n, florencepugh and 5,727,827 others
tchalamet my girl is on top of the world
comments on this post have been limited
y/n not us being goofy 🤣🤣
florencepugh my bestest friends !!
liked by rachelzegler, tchalamet and 4,817,132 others
y/n i am so grateful i could cry 💕💕✨️
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rachelzegler you deserve it all and more my lovely
tchalamet forever proud of you pretty girl
bearyn remember when she was excited over her getting 100k views on her video 🥺😭😭 and now she's getting MILLIONS
ynsucks all thanks to her boyfriend
fuxkyn is she serious w this shit, she uses timmy for likes???
amyyn he posts her all the time too, so now what?
liked by tchalamet and 7,276,277 others
y/n vmas 😳😳😳
comments on this post have been limited
tchalamet i love you w so much of my heart that none is left to protest
y/n are you shakespeare
tchalamet nah i just made it up right now
liked by tchalamet, yourfriend and 7,727,266 others
y/n if you think they're looking at you... they're looking at me. happy anniversary my love 🥰💕💕
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rachelzegler IM DEADDDDD
tchalamet happy anniversary my angel girl
timmysgf rude asl
laurieslaurence istg its the same person behind these accounts
timsgf what no
ynswaterbottle LMAOOOOOOOOO
lightupyn her old lyrics 🥺🥺😭😭
liked by y/n, zendaya and 8,277,265 others
tchalamet i ❤️ my talented girlfriend
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horroryn HE SAID FUCK ALL YOU HATERSSSS AHHH YALL MAD
y/n why not uponeth me?
tchalamet liked
bedchemyn BYEEEE
tomholland2013 we need a double date soon!
modernyn MY PARENTSS
y/n I love you my darling boy
*
#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet fanfiction#timothee chalamet imagine#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee imagine#timothee x reader#timothée chalamet#timothee chalamet au#timothee chalamet x you#timothee fanfic#timothée chalamet imagine#timmy chalamet#timothée chalamet x reader#timothée imagine#timothee chalamet social media au#sabrina carpenter#short n sweet
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I woke up this morning with a song in my heart and that song was reversed age gap maxiel with a lil scumbag Max in the bridge. I've had an ask in my inbox for months now about reversed aged gap maxiel and I thought this was the same vibe but sadly it isn't. Oh wells, this is what I wrote this morning. thank you @chaosinstigator for being an amazing cheerleader <3
1172 wrds. There is a part 2 apparently lol
Something something four-time world champion Max Verstappen looks across the garage at his new teammate, the 18yr old they dragged up from VCarb to replace Checo.
Daniel Ricciardo was a fast driver, he'd only spent a fraction of the year in F2 before he was called up. And even though the car wasn't good, he was. Which is what mattered.
Helmut had been puffing chest out in pride ever since Daniel proved him right.
Now the kid– because that's what he was, a kid– was talking to the old man, nodding periodically while Helmut spoke. Like a good boy.
They'd already met, had time to break the ice as teammates and Max could hardly ignore how his light brown eyes had shone with worship and awe. Or how Daniel’s voice had cracked when he promised to be a good challenge for Max this year. His lips pulled into an almost-but-not-quite-there cocky smirk over the brackets of his braces, and Max idly wondered what other ‘challenges’ Daniel would pose this year.
In the weeks since that, Max couldn’t help but notice Daniel. How could he not? He was cute, in a dorky way. He listened to loud music, loudly. Unlike Checo who kept his tunes to a reasonable volume for someone sharing a wall. Daniel was always giggling and joking around, trying to rile people up to play.
Max was already riled up in a different way.
What with Daniel’s continued teasing and jokes, walking around in tiny shorts and showing his new thigh tattoo to anyone with eyes. He was flexible too, contorting his scrawny body into yoga poses while they waited for engineering to start, doing handstands in the hallway. He was loud when he got massaged. Max could hear him talking through the thin wall and then his voice would hitch and he would groan when Jon apparently hit a particularly deep knot. It drove Max up the wall.
Max knocked twice before opening the door– his usual standard– then froze in the doorway. Daniel looked at him wide eyed, dressed only in his underwear and clearly about to get dressed in his tight white fireproofs. Max hadn’t ever seen him so underdressed, even with all of the random activities they’d been doing for marketing. He was scrawny yes, but still lithe with corded muscles. Dotted with freckles and sunspots. Max gripped the handle of the door when Daniel’s big eyes lost their surprise and settled into upturned curiosity. His heart shaped lips dropped open a little, enough for Max to see his tongue pressing against his braces. Max wanted to smear his come in the brackets.
“Max?” Daniel’s voice pitched upwards.
Max mentally stepped away from the visuals of him debauching this kid. “Your music.” He got out.
“Oh jeepers, my bad. Sorry!” Daniel rushed to the table to lower the volume on his speakers. Max watched his ass in his tight briefs. How his thighs bunched as he moved, thick with dark wiry hair.
“Lovely, thank you Daniel.” Max smiled and Daniel’s face darkened with a pleased flush and he bit his lip. Max forced himself to close the door and go back to his own room.
— - —
They were changing after a gokart race for marketing, Daniel sat shirtless on the bench. Max looked over to see him already watching him. After spending the last twenty minutes with Daniel practically sat in his lap while Max gripped his tiny waist, Max would appreciate it if he got dressed already.
“I can hear your brain from here.” Max teased and Daniel’s lips pulled into an unconscious smile even as he looked away.
“Sorry I just– you don’t like me, do you?” Daniel blurted and Max froze.
“What?”
“It’s just– you didn’t–I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have like said that.” Daniel shook his head and stood. Max watched him tuck his long sweaty curls behind his ear.
“Why would you think that?” Max was confused as to why Daniel would assume that he hated him, and wondered what made him think that way. As far as Max was concerned, he hadn’t treated him any differently than anyone else. Unless Daniel was expecting special treatment? If anything, Daniel was getting special treatment. Max wasn’t going out of his way to be a dick to him, he wouldn’t do that to his young teammate.
“Uhm, I– everyone says you were nicer to Checo, warmer. I-I don’t think you’ve been bad– you’ve been great. But I’m not Checo and I dunno if you like resent me for replacing him.”
“Checo was my teammate for five years, I am not going to, of course, automatically treat you like him.” Max pointed out, “and you shouldn’t listen to the media, they are talking out of their asses most of the time.”
Daniel blushed and ducked his head, chastised.
“Was that it?” Max asked kindly. He would rather get this all out in the open now.
“I'm sorry.” Daniel apologized, his upturned eyes looked glassy as if he was holding back tears. “I just want us to be friends I guess.” He shrugged.
“You don’t have to be friends with your teammate.”
“I know but.. You were friends with all of yours. Like Carlos.”
Max scoffed, he hadn’t been friends with Carlos when they were teammates– they fucked out their frustrations.
Daniel’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a small o. Max shrugged and tugged his shirt over his head. He repacked his bag and tugged on a cap, turning to see Daniel squirming where he stood, a deep blush on his cheeks. And oh. Well this was interesting.
Max crossed the room and stood over him, using the few centimeters he had on Daniel to his advantage. Daniel’s head tipped up trustingly and Max cupped his smooth chin in his big hand. Daniel let out a breathy exhale that had Max’s blood surging.
Max leaned in closely, so close their noses touched. Daniel’s breath hitched. It would be so easy to take. To give in and do what he wanted to Daniel, clearly what Daniel wanted him to do to him. It would be so easy to ruin him entirely. Too easy.
“You have no idea what you’re asking.” Max whispered against pink lips. Daniel whined in response.
“I– please. I can take it”
“Have you ever?” Max wanted to know, needed to know just how corrupt his little jailbait was. Daniel’s eyes widened and Max bit back his groan. Fuck.
“W-with girls.” Daniel admitted in a whisper, he grabbed at Max’s arm as if he were afraid that his admission would make him less desirable. As if Max hadn’t already been fantasising about fucking him seven ways to Sunday every fucking weekend. His cock stirred at the thought of being the first in the undoubtable tight clench of Daniel’s untried hole. Of being the first to have him writhing and screaming at the discovery of his prostate.
Would he beg? Max quirked a smirk at the thought, Daniel was already begging right now.
#ending it here because work is being a buzzkill lol#but i anticipate that max doesn't take too long to take what daniel's offering. i don't think he should wait#maxiel#max/daniel#my fic#reversed age gap au#is that a good enough tag?
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Roy’s first month of managing Richmond, he still wakes up at 4 a.m. every morning.
There’s no reason for it; work doesn’t start until 8 and he doesn't need to do extra training sessions with Jamie any more. But his body can’t break the habit, so he lies in bed and stares at the ceiling.
4 a.m. is when night is over but morning has not quite begun, when the world is quiet and distant and there is room for thoughts which would otherwise be unthought and feelings which would otherwise be unfelt.
-
4 a.m. is Jamie flinging open his front door with a big grin and a stupid head torch, saying, “Morning coach!” and bounding off with such enthusiasm that Roy has to scramble to keep up with him.
-
4 a.m. is the team finally calling it a night after celebrating a tough win, Isaac and Colin with an exhausted Sam between them, Jan Maas giggling, and Dani coming tearing out of the club yelling “Back to the hoteeeeeeeeeel!” and everyone running joyfully after him. Everyone except Jamie, who is leaning against the wall of the club and watching Roy with a hint of a smile.
“Fucking what?” Roy growls.
“You’re doing good. At this manager thing, I mean. The boys like it when you come celebrate with us.”
-
4 a.m. is sunrise over Richmond Park, the trees swaying in the breeze, deer leaping away in the distance, a blanket of silence muffling London’s ever-present hum of traffic. It is Jamie’s contentment as he runs, the way he springs forward to meet every step, with the rays of the rising sun painting streaks of red and gold through his hair.
-
4 a.m. is the time the team bus breaks down and strands them in a field in the middle of nowhere, and most of the lads are asleep in their seats but Roy finds Jamie sitting a little distance away on a grassy bank, looking up at the sky.
“Proper good view of the stars here, innit?”
Roy cranes his neck to take in the view of bright white points splashed across the darkness. He hums and lowers himself to sit next to Jamie.
“That one’s Rigel.” Jamie points. “And over there, that’s Betelgeuse. About to go supernova and everything. It’s gonna explode and take out everything around it, but after that, it’ll leave behind a cloud of dust n shit which’ll make new stars. Mental, right?”
Roy glances at him sideways. “How d’you know all this shit?”
Jamie shrugs one shoulder. “Me mum used to take me to the observatory as a kid. Said it was good for my cultural development. But I think I just liked the view.”
Jamie is staring up at the stars, but Roy is looking at Jamie’s face, soft, open, and full of wonder.
-
4 a.m. is a stupid time to be doing this. Roy stands in front of Jamie’s door and hesitates before knocking. Who the fuck shows up out of the blue at someone’s house at this hour? But he’d woken up early again and the world had seemed grating, like something important was missing, and almost against his will his feet had carried him here.
He knocks and, much quicker than he expects, the hallway light flicks on and footsteps thump down the stairs. Jamie opens the door fully dressed and wide awake, and beams.
“Morning coach! You want a cup of coffee?”
Roy blinks. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here at this ridiculous time?”
Jamie's forehead wrinkles. "I'm sure you've got a good reason."
“I couldn’t sleep. Can’t sleep, I mean. I still wake up at 4 a.m. every morning."
Jamie nods. “Yeah. Me too.”
"I -" Roy squirms, hating feeling so visible. "I miss this."
Jamie looks up at him, surprised.
"I miss you."
Jamie blushes, then fidgets with his sleeves. "You see me every day."
"It's not the same though. I miss starting my day with you."
"Oh." Jamie's cheeks are blotched with pink. "We could go for a run together? Do some training?'
It's tempting. Roy could say yes, and they could jog around the park, and it could be like it was before. A little piece of familiarity in a season of changes.
But that's not what Roy is here for.
"I don't want to train," he says, and Jamie's face falls.
He steps closer, right up to the doorway, a mere few inches between them. He reaches out, stopping himself just before his hand lands on Jamie's chest.
He looks up, meets Jamie's eye, makes sure he knows what Roy is offering. His hand meets Jamie's chest, solid and warm. "I want something else."
"Oh." Jamie scarcely moves, has to remind himself to breathe by the looks of it, and then one of those soft, beautiful 4 a.m. smiles spreads across his face and he steps back to open the door. "Then I guess you'd better come in."
#a time of day that's arse o clock in the morning is something that can actually be so personal#roy x jamie#royjamie#roy kent#jamie tartt#ted lasso#my writing
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Private Dances [3]
Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •
A/N: A massive thank you to the amazing @midgardian-witch for being so wonderful and proofreading this nonsense AND for hyping me up AND saving my ass with switching tenses (why am I like this?) Another huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚
Warnings: overuse of italics, sub!Blue, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), swearing, oral (f! receiving), Blue being a little shit, please let me know if I've missed a warning.
There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has named Lion.
Word Count: 3329
A Great View of the Hall
This was going to be a problem.
Scratch that.
More than a problem.
You stare at the half open garment bag hanging on the back of your door as if your glare could fix a hole in time and space.
Blue held stupidly lavish events every three months or so, a big excuse to close the club to all save those who were ready to pay big bucks. And boy, were there a lot of clients willing to throw their cash around.
Shows, and food, and gambling, and drinks, and everything dialed up to fucking eleven.
All the staff’s outfits were new, usually fitting some theme that Blue had chosen on a whim, and none of the dancers ever got to see what they were going to be wearing until it was literally time to get dressed. Not that that was a problem. That was normal. Routine. The same as always.
The problem was your outfit. Your dress. It was fucking blue.
There was only one unspoken rule every time he threw these fucking events, and that was that the main stars: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, were the only ones in blue. Not you.
Gorski must have given you the wrong dress. There must have been some kind of mistake. You shake your head, trying to shake yourself free of the vice like grip of anxiety that was taking hold of your heart.
Simple fix. Simple.
You grab the garment bag, zip it back up and leave your small room to find the Madam. She was, unsurprisingly, busy. Helping others fix their costumes, all a dark purple, directing others into position on the floor or stage behind the scenes. The doors had already opened for the ‘exclusive’ guest, the party ramping up into full swing.
She tuts when she sees you, “What are you doing? You’re not ready?”
“I was given the wrong dress.” You swallow, seeing some of your fellow back up dancers out of the corner of your eye in their wine purple corsets and short frilly shirts.
Gorski frowns at you, unimpressed. “Not another one.” She mutters under her breath, almost too quiet for you to hear. “Let me see.”
You hold the bag out to her and she tuts again, not even bothering to open it. “Here,” she flips white paper card tied around the hanger's neck, ‘Lion’. “This one’s yours.”
“No, it’s-”
“Mr Jones oversaw your clothing. I am not having any more arguments about outfits today.” She says, her voice clipped. She only ever used ‘Mr Jones’ when she was stressed and pissed. She turns to raise her voice curtly to another dancer before looking back at you. “Any other problems?”
Despite the pause she gave you it was clear she would only accept one answer.
You manage to bite your tongue and shake your head.
“Good.” She dismisses you with a wave of her hand, waiting until you are nearly out of the backstage rooms for her to call after you, “and hurry up!”
.
The dress is long, almost trailing on the floor, with a slit on the left side that ends just before the fullest part of your hip. There is an ornate chain holding both sides together at your upper thigh, a tiny golden lion dangles from the chain, it’s just enough to keep the dress from exposing you while you walk. Which is a small blessing as there is no way you can wear any underwear without it being on show.
You growl deep in your throat, your mind replaying snippets of your last encounter with Blue. His arms around your waist as he practically sobs into your stomach.
This must be some kind of twisted punishment, a way to put you on show in front of everyone. It wasn’t like you could outwardly disobey him in front of clients and his goons, there was no way you would be able to wrap your fingers around his throat, squeeze, and make him crumble.
You check your makeup in the small mirror and adjust the dress. It’s a bright, royal blue, with a plunging neckline and small over the shoulder straps. The material is soft, comfortable even. And you hate it. Hate that part of you likes it. Hate that he picked it.
Hate, hate, hate it.
At least you could maybe blend in with the ‘stars’, they’d be in the exact same dress and colour.
.
Somehow you manage not to scream profanities the second you walk into the club. The music is loud, the stage occupied while others serve drinks to the patrons, seated and watching. There are some talking in booths, girls in their lap pretending to be interested in their conversation, while others gamble with dancers on their arms, egging them on.
All of them are in the same dark purple. Which isn’t surprising.
The problem is Trixie, the first star you spot. Her dress is shorter, the neckline a queen ann cut, and the colour is a dark navy. You see Peach next, her dress the same as Trixie, then Songbird and Sweetie Pie. All of them dressed in mirror images of each other. You stand out sorer than a thumb.
Exactly what you would like to not do.
The realisation makes you freeze, the anxiety from before growing monstrously and taking root, fixing you to the floor. You’re going to be sick, you’re going to-
“Ah, Lion.” Blue grins wickedly as he snakes his hand around your hip and pulls you close to his side. “I was looking all over for you.”
You glare at him. If looks could kill he’d already have bullet holes in his chest.
He chuckles at your stare. “Feisty as ever,” he brushes the tips of his fingers along your jaw, pressing softly against your chin to tilt your head to the side so he can place a soft kiss to your cheek. “Behave.” He whispers, his breath hot against your skin.
The underlying threat is there, clear as night: or else.
You plaster the fakest smile on your face, practically a sneer, and his grin widens.
“Oh, much better Lion, much better.” He nuzzles into your neck for a second, the briefest touch as he breathes deeply and sighs contentedly.
You stiffen as a flush of heat runs along your skin from where he touched you, racing downwards.
“Come, I’m just speaking with some old friends,” he guides you to the table, slightly secluded from the main hustle and bustle, but still with a good view of the stage. He keeps his arm around you, his fingers playing with the little lion on the chain.
Somehow you manage to resist the urge to slap his hand away.
There are three other men seated, two you recognise as regular patrons of the club. Highrollers, dangerous. The third you’re not familiar with, but his suit is sharp and his eyes are vicious.
To your surprise there are no other dancers at the table, no one doing their best to fawn over any of these men. You swallow, the anxiety sharp as it cuts in deeper.
Each of them has their own guards, a far distance away but obvious to spot and surely ready to snap into action at a moment's notice.
This was all very, very not good.
Still, you manage a polite, and pretend sincere, smile as Blue introduces you to them. Astonishingly, all three stand to greet you, take your hand as you offer it to them (Blue subtly flicks your arm to remind you, whispering a brief ‘manners’ into your ear) and kiss the back of it.
Blue keeps an oddly reassuring hold on your side, only letting go to push your chair in for you when you sit. The place where his hand rested is oddly cold without his touch.
He sat as close to you as he physically could, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he continued to talk with the other men.
After a few minutes his hand began to wander, moving slightly to stroke your upper arm absentmindedly and seemingly not noticing the little shiver that ran through you at his touch.
You wish you were paying more attention to the conversation going around you, wished you could.
His touch was more than distracting, maddening. The infuriating way he drags the back of his thumbnail over your skin in a lazy stroke. The stupid little smile that was plastered to his face whenever he nods to the conversation, his eyes glittering. He must know what he’s doing. He had to.
You gave him little sideways glares, doing your best not to completely scowl at him. Frustration burned hot along your veins and you clenched your hands into fists under the table, pressing them into the edge of your seat.
A waiter came to deliver fresh drinks, moving quietly and quickly as he places the glasses down in front of Blue and his ‘friends’.
“What do you want, Lion?” Blue’s velvet soft voice caught you irritatingly off guard. He smiled when you didn’t answer straight away, enjoying the little dance of confusion on your face. “To drink?” He leans towards you, still smiling.
“I…” you swallowed, unsure of how to answer, if this was really some twisted game he was playing.
His grin widens, seemingly appraising you for a moment before he looked up to the waiter. “Lion’ll have something sweet, just like she is.”
You were going to hit him.
One of the men chuckled, he had dark eyes and a full beard and was sitting directly to your right. “Sweet is she?” He leaned slightly closer to you, placing his elbow on the table. “How sweet?”
He gave you a sugary smile that perhaps could have been charming in another situation.
Blue’s gentle touch on your arm tightened, pulling you towards him a fraction.
The other man chuckled politely at his reaction, “What? You can’t expect me not to want a taste. You’re practically flaunting her to us.” He gestures as he speaks, his hand a hair's breadth away from touching your cheek.
He’s lucky in that respect because you’re pretty sure he would have lost a finger or two if he’d actually made contact.
“Am I?” Blue smiles, all teeth.
The man chuckles lightly, but swallows, a hint of uncertainty in his voice the next time he speaks. Subtle, but there. “Well… yes.”
Blue waits for a moment, just letting the others' words hang in the air. He blinks twice, shaking his head a minute amount. Such a little gesture shouldn’t feel so… vicious.
Your stomach twists, a feeling that had started to fade into your memory. You’d forgotten how dangerous he was. With all the things he’d let you do, the power he’d let you have over him, it had become so easy to fall into that false sense of security.
You lean slightly into Blue, resting your head on his shoulder and threading your fingers through his, forcing him to loosen the grip on your shoulder.
He looks down at your face, his eyelashes practically kissing his cheeks. There’s an oddly soft expression that passes over his eyes. There for a moment before it’s gone.
He looks back to the other man, his tone lighter this time. “What’s wrong with a little showing off?”
It’s almost as if the whole club breathes a collective sigh of relief.
“Nothing.”
All four go back to their conversation as if nothing had transpired.
The waiter brings you a bright pink cocktail that’s too sweet. But you slip at it anyway to save the poor man from Blue’s ire.
.
You attempt to slip away during Trixie’s big performance, while Blue is saying polite goodbyes to the gentleman at the table as he sends them off with other girls.
But he keeps your hand firmly in his the whole time.
It’s only then that you notice someone at the far side of the club, their gaze on you like a sense of creeping dread. It’s Crystal.
At first you think she’s scowling at Blue, until realisation dawns that it is in fact you that she is looking at.
The expression is so fierce that at first you can’t take notice of anything else. It’s only later that you realise she was wearing a dark purple dress.
“Trying to escape?” Blue’s voice makes you jump. He’s leaning close, his lips practically touching your ear and grinning.
You frown at him. “Trying to.” You look back to the side of the club, Crystal is gone.
He laughs. “Silly little Lion.”
“Careful.”
He bites his lips together, still smiling, clearly overly amused by your reaction. “And why would I want to be careful, hmm?” He brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Maybe I want your claws to come out?”
There’s a light flush to his cheeks that isn’t from the alcohol, his eyes dark and pupils dilated.
He lets you look over him for a moment before he squeezes your hand and places it in the crook of his arm. “Come.”
He glances at one of his guards, gesturing with his head and practically communicating telepathically before he guides you across the room and down the corridor to his office.
It’s cooler once you’re out from the sea of people in the club, quieter, even though you can still hear the echoing bass of the music.
You’re not sure why you let him lead you; why you walk in step with him without question. The idea of it alone should be enough to get under your skin.
“Why am I wearing this dress Blue?”
“You can take it off if you prefer.” He purrs.
You glare at him. “That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean then?” He raises his eyebrows at you, practically giddy with glee.
“The colour-”
“Do you not like your dress?” He fakes a look of disappointment, “I’m hurt, Lion.”
You pinch his inner elbow and he laughs as he flinches a little in surprise. He squeezes your hand tighter in the crook of his arm.
“You know what I mean, Blue.”
“I do.” He opens his office door with a little flourish before he ushers you inside.
“It’s not-” You gasp as he grabs your biceps, pushing your back up against the door and using the force of the push to shut it.
He kisses you roughly, groaning as he presses himself close to you but breaks it before you even get a chance to react. “You drive me insane, Lion.” He mutters against your mouth. “Insane.”
He strokes your cheek softly, resting his forehead against yours. “Can’t think about anything if you’re not near me.” He presses his lips to yours again, soft and sweet before trailing down along your jaw and to your neck.
You shiver, jumping under his touch as he licks and kisses, lightly scrapes his teeth over your skin.
When you react he groans softly, rubbing the heavily outline of his erection against your thigh.
Your breathing hitches, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. Your body reacts without your permission, pressing closer and craving more of his touch.
He leaves a gentle kiss on your collar bone before he sinks to his knees, looking up at you through his long lashes. “Want to take care of you, Lion…” He waits a moment, watching your face intently, seemingly measuring the seconds via the rise and fall of your chest. “Want to make you feel good.”
Painfully slowly he runs his hands up your calves, pushing up your dress as he goes.
You swallow as you watch him, how he gazes up at you looking so soft and pliant. Part of you wants to stop him, to force him back and regain control. But another deeper part recognises his submission, realises that the control is already all yours.
He kisses the side of your left knee, pressing close as he drags your dress higher and higher, the smooth scrape of the fabric leaves goosebumps in its wake.
He gasps softly as he finally lifts it over your hips, revealing you completely to him. Languidly he runs the very tip of his forefinger down the centre of your mons until he brushes your clit.
He seems mesmerised for a second as your body jolts under his touch.
You bite into your bottom lip to stop yourself from making a sound, but still your rapid breathing echoes loudly in your head.
Blue shuffles forward, closing his eyes as he licks a board, flat trail through your folds. He moans loudly, his eyebrows pinched together as he tastes you. Heat pools and twists in his belly, spiralling downwards to his throbbing cock as his movements get bolder.
He presses his tongue deeper, just teasing your entrance as his licks grow firmer, sinking down to the very edge of your core before working his way back up to your clit.
Your muscles tense, legs weakening as your body starts to fight your mind for complete control.
“Blue…” You mutter, your voice strained and desperate.
He groans loudly, doubling down on his efforts as he keeps lapping at you desperately.
The sound of his zipper being opened barely registers to your ears as he fumbled with it, pulling his cock free in a rush and hastily jerking himself in time with his licks.
You moan quietly, unable to stop yourself as you grab hold of the back of his head and press him closer. Your hips buck, grinding against his warm, wet and eager mouth.
Blue whines, his eyes rolling back as you take hold of him. His breathing hitches and he gasps once, a weak Lion escaping his lips in a needy, desperate plea before he swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking it into his mouth before doing back to those long, long licks.
He buries himself between your thighs, single minded in his need for your pleasure as he rocks and moves with you, his fist a blur on his own length.
You dig your fingers of one hand into the wood of the door, the other into his short hair, rolling your hips to chase the delicious friction of his sinful mouth. Heat coils tightly in your stomach, your thighs start to shake as he moans and licks, smearing your wetness all over his face.
This time the moan that leaves you is loud and wrecked, pleasure pulling at every part of you and overriding any other possible thought.
You tense, shaking as you come, your head thrown back and pressing against the door.
Blue whines as your sweet release hits his tongue, as your muscles squeeze and quake and flutter on his tongue.
He jerks his wrist twice, watching your face eagerly as you cry out, and comes a second later, spurting hot thick ropes all over the carpet and office door. Some splashes onto your calves.
He slows his hand in time with the gentle rock of your hips, only pulling his mouth away when you slump back and your grip on his hair lessens.
He stares up at you with large, dark eyes. The entirety of his lower face shining with your slick.
Your breathing calms, your heartbeat slowly returning to normal as you keep your eyes closed.
Blue breathes deeply, glancing down briefly and noticing the drops of his release on your legs. He tuts and leans forward, darting his tongue out to lick your skin clean while simultaneously not giving a damn about the mess on the door.
You let out a little yelp of surprise as his warm tongue touches your skin, but he places a soothing hand on your thigh, stroking soft circles as he works.
You’re not sure what to expect when he stands, but it certainly isn’t the soft kiss he gives you while stroking your cheeks with his hands.
“Come to bed with me, Lion.” He mutters, his voice soft and eyes closed.
Thank you for reading!
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