#have a good day lads! what u see truly is what u get
Note
Lena!! ❤️❤️❤️
I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty 🤭
Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?
-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3
@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!
Rush! - Matty Healy
A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!!
wc: 9k
content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long
Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.)
Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing.
“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.
“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.
“Touché.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction).
Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway.
Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair
“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.
“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him.
“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change.
“Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space.
“Touché.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves
“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty.
“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”
You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.
“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk.
“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed.
“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out.
Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at?
“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him.
“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air.
“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating.
The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside.
“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him.
“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.
“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach.
“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did.
“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders.
“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way.
“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!”
“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans.
Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it.
“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.
“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin.
“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses.
“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless.
You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.
Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder.
Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes.
Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now.
“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust.
“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet.
“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.
Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point.
“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess.
His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself.
“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses.
Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning.
He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more.
Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face.
“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.
“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door.
“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-
“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face.
“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.
The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff.
Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.
“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited.
“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks.
Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer.
“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests.
“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket.
Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo.
George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side.
“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself.
“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.
George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse.
A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.
“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh.
His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.
The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.
“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.
“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time.
“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty
“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.
Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.
“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.
“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off.
“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize.
His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop.
“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room.
“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot.
You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.
The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight.
You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross.
“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’.
“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.
Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.
“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps.
Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted.
“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.”
Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down.
“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end.
“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement.
“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.”
The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next.
Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something.
A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all.
Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents.
“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw.
“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly.
“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?”
A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you.
“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard.
“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’.
“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.
“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–”
You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact.
“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view.
You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your façade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling.
The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.
Jesus christ.
Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.
His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him.
“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not.
An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.
“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.
“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.”
You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.
He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead.
Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.
“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car.
“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front.
“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief.
“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips.
“No.”
“W-what?”
His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done.
“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you.
Towering over him, you observe.
It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it.
Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room.
You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints.
“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions.
“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.
“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue.
Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm.
You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free.
“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.
“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?”
Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest.
“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.
“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds
“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.
“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.
“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.
“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.
“Look at what you do to me.”
His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted.
“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking.
“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant.
“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”
“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.
“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again.
“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin.
“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.
“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house.
You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought.
“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane.
“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck.
Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand.
“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand.
“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him.
“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements.
“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.
It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug.
You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south.
You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him.
“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely.
“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy.
“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak.
“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white.
You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body.
Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks.
“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest.
“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief.
“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.
“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close.
“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh.
“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead.
“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain.
“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze.
“Was it?”
“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest.
“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.
“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice.
“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.
Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization
“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body.
“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief.
“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”
“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan.
“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.
“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him.
Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so.
Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you.
“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up.
“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city.
Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.
Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses.
“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.
You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box.
A small one.
#i had so much funnn#hope yall like the ending#the 1975#matty healy#ross macdonald#adam hann#george daniel#drive like i do#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#matty healy x you#matty healy fluff#the 1975 smut#matty healy x reader
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study of this masterwork
#wayneradiotv#rtvs#sonic the hedgehog#after '''''typesetting'''''''' this thing I almost forgot how to spell hedgehog#the caption is fully unironic btw this is for educational purpose. its very fun to draft a comic from an existing ''thumbnail'' it turns ou#but also I just love comics dude. I just love sequential art its so cool to see how anyone arranges things in their own comic#like. wayne's sprite on top of the ''what!!'' speech bubble. really fucking good#little bit sad I couldnt catch the streams live even tho they did run in my timezone... bc Im bad at sleepin#but! Im gonna try and set an alarm this weekend. wanna hang out for a bit#also yeah all dialogue in this is accurate to the original. no use fixing whats perfect as they say#debated printing this out and scuffing the paper with eraser and then re-scan it. for authenticity. but Im tired and dinner soon so#sorry cosme my friend cosme I couldnt commit. I couldnt do it....#anyways yeah. I dinner now#have a good day lads! what u see truly is what u get
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Take a Chance with Me | OP81
oscar piastri x reader (fc: huh yunjin)
— Part 3
Previous Part Next Part
Summary : They are a couple caught in the chaos of a love filled with randomness and quirks. Their relationship is marked by funny and unpredictable moments, where each day feels like a new adventure. Despite frequently engaging in amusing and spirited bickering, beneath the banter lies a deep and meaningful romance.
Disclamer: This is a story created for fun without any hate towards anyone. This work exists in a realm separate from the original canon. Characters may be divergent from their established personas. So, just enjoy the rollercoaster ride.
f1updates
liked by user1, user2, and 95,390 others
f1updates spotted chart-topping sensation Sierra Turner hanging out in the McLaren garage at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Having a blast and sharing some race-day tales with the McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri!
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user hold up, sierra turner in the mclaren garage?! this race just got a whole lot more interesting
user sierra always bringing the good vibes wherever she goes! McLaren garage just got a major upgrade<3
user y/n, better keep an eye on your man
user lmao y/n's the one catching all his attention
user OMG, sierra talked with oscar??? my two worlds collided
user this is what dreams are made of! sierra, lando, and oscar, the dynamic trio we didn't know we needed
sierraturner
tagged oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren
liked by landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 505,397 others
sierraturner this was all one day. Thankyou for having me❤️ @/mclaren
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user SOO GORGEOUSSS
user sierra turning the race into a concert❤️
mclaren thankyou for coming, Sierra!🧡
sierraturner the pleasure is mine! I'm truly looking forward to another invitation
user sierra interaction with landoooo?? I LIVE FOR THIS
user whoa mclaren garage is filled with beautiful women!! imagine 2 gorgeous women y/n and sierra at the same place
landonorris great to see you here! Thanks for coming to the race
sierraturner looking forward to the next year races!
user is someone notice she seems to be getting cozy in Oscar's garage???👀
user i think u should stop overanalyze ://
message
oscarpiastri
liked by yourusername, mclaren, sierraturner and 174,041 others
oscarpiastri Last day of term completed. Podiums, a sprint win and your 🧡 made 2023 awesome. Big thanks to all the papaya crew
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quadlock incredible year! So proud to be on this journey with you 💙
ausgp What a first season! You’ve done Australia incredibly proud, mate! 🇦🇺🧡
user our rookie is no longer a rookie
user Good job lad, you proved all the haters wrong 🧡
sierraturner congratulations on an amazing first season 🧡
user wow have you officially become his fan?
sierraturner yes, no doubt
user it's time for you to move @/yourusername
yourusername added a story
Congratulations on completing your rookie season! Proud is an understatement❤️
oscarpiastri you know i love u right
yourusername i know❤️
twitter
yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, landonorris, sierraturner and 75,407 others
yourusername me n my girlies
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user please let me be part of the group
user can i be one of your girlies…. or perhaps your only girl….. by that i mean your girlfriend and wife i will treat you right buy you flowers and make you breakfast every day my queen
yourusername oh, you're sweet. Lucky for me, i've already got a wonderful guy who showers me with love, flowers, and foods. But i'll remember your offer in case i need a backup🤗
oscarpiastri no need for backups here and definitely no substitutes allowed, mate🙄
yourusername possesive😩
user LMAOOO Y/N never crossed my mind seeing the two of them bickering on comment section
yourbff let's schedule another round!
oscarpiastri she's already booked
yourbff possesive much?😌
oscarpiastri i'm just scared you won't bring y/n back in one piece
yourusername silly hahaha
user Hold up, sierra liked y/n's post? Is this a friendly vibe or a hidden agenda?
user plot twist in the making
lovingwags
liked by f1updateswags, user, and 25,477 others
lovingwags the street is buzzing with rumors of Sierra trying to get Oscar's attention, stirring up tension with y/n. Whose team are you on??
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user why are we even comparing and picking sides when oscar is clearly with y/n? let's respect their relationship u weirdo
user sierra and oscar would make such a lovely couple<3
user can't we just focus on supporting each other??
user dear y/n please just leave oscar for sierra
user you are so sick🤮
user lmaoo stop making unnecessary drama😭
user sierra definitely >>>>> y/n LIKE SIERRA HAS IT ALL — THE TALENTS, FAME, AND LITERALLY EVERYTHINGGG
twitter
f1wagsupdate
liked by lovingwags, user and 45,454 others
f1wagsupdates y/n is currently enjoying a christmas holiday in Oscar's hometown. A heartwarming videos captured her sheer joy while playing with Oscar's nieces. Credit to @/blahblah
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user y/n looks so happy spending time with Oscar's family in Australia! What a heartwarming sight🥺❤️
user while the rumor mill is working overtime between them, y/n stays unbothered too busy being happy to get caught up in the drama
user no wonder they've been MIA since the winter break kicked in. Enjoy the holiday, you two!
user can we talk about how absolutely stunning and genuine y/n looks in this video?
user her beauty shines so effortlessly in this video. Oscar is so lucky😭😭
oscarpiastri
tagged yourusername
liked by yourusername, lilymhe, sierraturner, and 75,407 others
oscarpiastri exploring the town with my favorite dork
user did you just take a break from the track for a romantic getaway in Japan??? wow
user the cutest couple in the paddock<3
user the 5th photo is so cute because she seemed confused loll
user probably because she thought oscar was behind her, and then it hit her like, 'Oh, Oscar's still up there'😂
mclaren enjoy the off season, Oscar & y/n!
user admin is absolutely rooting for both of them🧡
user seated for oscar & y/n's honeymoon phase
user the unbothered queen & king❤️
Notes: Btw, I'm planning to create more parts for this AU, so if you enjoy reading it, you can look forward to some new chapters ahead. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. Thankyouuuu
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri au#f1 fluff#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fluff#f1 smau#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#oscar piastri smau
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「“ᴍʀ & ᴍʀꜱ”」
Scenario :- “hmmm what about something like being kuni's housewife idk i just want him to come home and eat my meals” ( @diagonal-queen )
Pairing :- kunikida x wife!reader
Genre:- fluff!
Type:- headcannons!
TW:- mentions of sex but no actual nsfw!
A/N :- here’s a little something i did for @diagonal-queen!Hope y’all like it!
Okayyy so you wanna be MRS kunikida huh?
Let’s see what it’ll be like!
First off if you actually make the cut? Congratulations!
You’ve effectively beat out 99.99% of the women population 😭
But no fr if u and Kunikida actually get hitched that means you are his perfect person.
No matter what flaws you have or you think you have,to him it’s all immaterial.
And if you ever get down,remember he chose you!
If you guys get hitched and you wanna be a housewife he’s all for it!
Its very classic, if u know what i mean.
And he kinda likes that at least this one thing could be simple(in his not-at-all-simple life)
Let’s go back to your wedding day shall we?
Okay imagine after a beautiful ceremony yall go back to your room and then have the most romantic night ever.
Just you and him in each other’s company~
After that you move into his apartment and settle down.
Kunikida is a hard working lad so he most probably won’t be around much after your honeymoon.
He goes to work everyday without fail and comes back home to you,also without fail. (Although sometimes he’s a little more scraped up and scarred than usual)
He texts you to see if you’re okay during his breaks and always lets you know when he’s goin on a mission and where.
If he needs to cut communications cos it could interfere with the mission,he tells you and reassures you that everything would be alright
And honestly youre only worried about his and his colleagues safety.
Cos like let’s be real, a relationship with Kunikida would be secure af! Because we all KNOW he would never cheat!
On days where he gets days off he still works at home🥲 (im sorry but buddy NEEDSS to have his stuff in order
But when he’s done he spends his time with you.
Whether it be baking,watching a movie or your favorite show,or just cuddling or vibing,yall are together.
And lemme tell you mans is talll
He’d be the big spoon when cuddling btw!
Oh and on days when he does work he looks forward to coming home to you and unwinding~
Oh and he LOVESS your cooking!
It reminds him of his childhood and it’s just that good.
One time you suggest packing him some lunch for work and he later got sooo much shit from dazai (that bandaged bugget was making kissy faces and shit and jusy not letting mans eat!)
One time dazai sneaks a bite and then he’s like “okay yeah no i get it now”
(buddy takes a bite and says, serious as ever, “Kunikida…this food is truly magnificent! Please tell y/n to make me some on the day before my suicide🥰. He gets promptly whacked on the head☺️)
Oh and this man can COOK
in any instance where youre tired or dont feel like cooking,mans has got it!
Makes a simple yet delicious meal and astounds you~
OH! And imagine for your anniversaries he gives you a card and as you open it he says “doppo poet!” And he turns it into a mini bouquet! (And when i say mini,i mean it.remember guys he can only summon stuff that are smaller than or the size of his notebook!)
Oh and he never forgets important dates😌
He’s a little new to romance but is surprisingly good!
And when it comes to more intimate times, he knows exactly what to do and how to make it enjoyable for the both of you
(ROMANCE AND/OR EROTICA READING KUNIKIDA!!!!)
And in conclusion,
He’d literally be the best husband ever.all parents wish their daughters could marry him
And here you were! Doing just that!
I wish y’all the best frr♥️♥️
Tagging: - @kemis-world @diagonal-queen
All rights reserved © 2023 gettinshiggywithit . Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours.
#🎙jaya speaks#📚jaya’s tales#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd kunikida#kunikida headcanons#kunikida doppo#kunikida x reader#kunikida fluff#bungou stray dogs kunikida#kunikida hcs#kunikida x y/n#kunikida x you#Kunikida x fem!reader#bsd x reader#bsd fanfiction#bsd fanfic#bsd x you#bsd x y/n#bsd x female reader#bsd fluff#bsd hcs#bsd headcanons#kunikida bsd#doppo bsd#doppo x reader#💜 dia#💜 wifey💞
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Can I pls request a day in Joker's life while taking care of baby Ellis from your previous work? I keep rereading that particular writing of yours because of the delicious angst 👌 I'd like to see how he takes care of his baby while leading a circus troupe and caring for his sick wife at the same time, while actively having to follow the Baron's orders. Just pile on the fluff and angst as much as u want to. Thank you ❤️
ohohoho what a compliment! <3
listen, y'all are supposed to say angst me mommy when you request shit like this... but... I guess I'll let it slide ;P
JUST MAKE SURE U CAN LIVE WITH WHAT YOU'VE UNLEASHED HERE BECAUSE WHEW-
JOKER’s days start earlier than ever now.
The one solace is that he gets to sleep in the same bed as his wife and wake up next to her in the morning. He gets to roll over, pressed against her, and give her a kiss… cuddle with her for a precious few minutes before the day truly begins. He gets to murmur that he loves her so much, lips painting those words onto her skin, because sometimes he worries that with all the hours he spends away from her, she might not know if he didn’t say it.
He gets to rise and greet his little baby, who’s nearing three months old now. Still just as darling as the day he was born. Although (Name) is getting stronger as she recovers on the treatment plan that the Baron’s doctor gave her, most of the time she only gets up for a few minutes to feed Ellis in the morning.
Joker likes to let her sleep in. He gets up before sunrise, and it’s not fair that she should have to do the same.
Thankfully, Ellis is much less fussy after eating breakfast… and Joker has learned, the hard way, not to bounce the infant on his knee for at least an hour after he eats. (To be fair, Peter also learned that the hard way whilst trying to get Ellis to stop wailing after feeding him a bottle. The fast-paced, busy nature of being a ringleader means that his child has been briefly left with each of the other troupe members at least once, so at least he’s not the only one who’s been spit up on.)
Once he’s made sure Ellis has a quick bath and is wearing clean clothes, it’s time to head over to the fairground. The small bag he carries during the morning is packed fast ― a few nappies and safety pins, a can of Mellin’s that the Baron oh-so graciously provides, a bottle, and a toy in case Ellis needs entertainment.
Then comes the hardest part; leaving (Name). Despite the fact that he’s only going to be gone for the morning, he’ll come home for a brief tea and to drop Ellis off… it still hurts to leave. It feels like he sees so little of her during the day. He almost wishes he didn’t have to go run the circus. One of these days he’s just going to say fuck it all, leave one of the others in charge for a day, and spend the whole morning here at the manor with his wife and child.
He perches himself on the bed with Ellis cradled against his chest in his good arm, and leans down to give his wife a kiss. A soft murmur of, “’Ey, darlin’, I’m off tae work wit’ Ellis now, alrigh’? I’ll be back this afternoon. Love ye,” falls from his lips against hers.
She returns the sentiment with a groggy smile and gives him her usual reply of, “Mmh, okay, sweetheart. See you then. I love you more.”
It kills him to leave. He does anyway… only after carefully tucking the covers back around her to replace how he moved them when he got up. The baby bag is slung over his shoulder, and he looks down at Ellis. “C’mon, wee lad. Let’s let y’r mama sleep ‘n’ we’ll go start our day. Get tae see all y’r aunts ‘n’ uncles.”
With that, he slips out the bedroom door and through the estate’s back exit, and he heads toward the fairground.
By the time he gets to the mess tent to grab a bite, the rest of the first-stringers are nearly done with breakfast. Thank God he gets to spend a short while with them before the hectic rush of the day sets in, or else he’s sure he’d never survive till afternoon. As soon as he sets the bag down and takes a seat, his free hand starts to dig in to the plate the others have fixed for him. “Mornin’, all. How’s ev’ryone doin’?”
As his family all mumble variations of, “Jus’ fine, not bad,” Freckles squeals and reaches over to take Ellis. “Aaaaah, y’ brought the baby!! Oiii, Ellis, sweet boy, c’mere ‘n’ spend some time with y’r Auntie Freckles while Papa eats!”
Sitting next to them, Wendy reaches over to ruffle Ellis’ little mop of auburn hair. “Joker, y’ gotta tell this kid t’ stop growin’. ‘e was jus’ a li’l, tiny thing, then we turn round ‘n’ ‘e’s gettin’ so big already.”
Peter beside her scoffs. “Oi, yeah, at this rate ‘e’s gonna end up taller’n us. Tell ‘im t’ cut it out; I don’t need someone thir’y years younger’n me towerin’ over me like some giant!”
“Aw, would y’ shut y’r yap? It’s big enough t’ make up f’r the rest’a y,” Freckles giggles, leaning down simply so Ellis can grab and play with their hair. “We should be ‘appy ‘e’s growin’! Look at ‘im, ‘e’s jus’ perfect.” When the baby coos and laughs at them, with a fistful of their hair in his hand, they look up at the ringleader almost pleadingly. “Oh, my God, Joker, I want one!!”
Joker has to pause to take a drink so he doesn’t choke on the last bite he took. God, they’re so funny… and yet, he knows they desperately want to start a family like he has. He almost feels bad that he ‘beat’ them to doing so. “Hah! Well, then, ye better find a beau an’ get busy, Doll, ‘cause that one’s mine!”
Dagger nudges Freckles in the ribs with his elbow. “Yeah, I think (Name) would ‘ave somethin’ t’ say ‘bout y’ takin’ ‘er baby!”
“Oh, yeah?” The fact that Ellis tugs on their hair apparently doesn’t dissuade them from wanting to keep him. They just grin bigger. “Bring ‘er ‘ere, I’ll fight ‘er! Winner takes ‘im!”
Everybody shares a laugh, and soon it tapers off into more subdued chatter as the meal is finished. It’s a welcome few moments before the day begins in full.
Joker lets Freckles keep holding the baby, making sure they’re fine to watch him for a few minutes as he makes his morning rounds. Of course, they don’t mind a bit. They’re probably disappointed they don’t get to spend more than a few minutes with him.
Things are always bustling in the morning, bright and full of activity when he walks around the tents. The second-stringers are heading to get breakfast now that the first-stringers are done, and the rest of his little family are practicing or getting ready to do so. He sees some of the newer members hurrying back from the mess tent, food in hand, to gather round Jumbo; as he often does during downtime, he’s started to play his harmonica.
Maybe he’s become soft, too soft, after Ellis’ birth, but Joker lets himself linger for a moment. He puts a hand on the newbies’ shoulders and sings along to the harmonica’s tune. Makes a few puns, gets a couple of laughs. Smiles at everyone. As much as he considers only the other first-stringers, his wife, and child his real family, he’s started to feel more and more like a father to the new members, especially the young ones.
After all, every single one of them was somebody’s child once. Don’t they all deserve to feel loved and protected like that?
His heart leaps into his throat when he thinks about his own baby. He remembers what he must have been thinking when he agreed to the Baron’s deal after Ellis was first born; Joker feels everything so intensely, just the hint of a future grief trying to raise his little boy without his wife was more than he could bear. Because Ellis is his, because (Name) is his, he can’t help but feel like they deserve all that love and protection more than anyone else.
Is he selfish for thinking that? Is he, or is that how everyone feels about their wives and children?
His voice trails off before he knows it, mind haunted by the shadow of future grief replaced by a future in which he’s eaten alive by guilt.
Soon enough, he disappears, shaken by his own thoughts, and collects his baby from Freckles. They give Ellis kisses on the head and pout when they have to relinquish him. The infant giggles in response; tugging a few strands of their hair in his little hand.
As Joker takes Ellis back against his own chest, he looks at Freckles. He hopes they get their own baby someday, someday soon if they meet the right person, and he prays they don’t make the same mistakes he’s made.
The day passes as normally as any day has passed by this point. Joker is sure it’s funny to watch him rehearsing whilst holding Ellis. Although he never moves around too much like this, it must be a sight to see him moving and pointing and gesturing with his bad arm with a baby nestled up in the crook of his good arm.
Not only that, Ellis makes all manner of little baby sounds. Which, while quite normal, are amusing additions to whatever Joker himself happens to be saying. In one breath he’s suggesting a change to the trapeze routine, and the next, Ellis is laughing at the sight of Peter missing his cue in such a way that his hat hits Wendy in the face. (Really. It’s entertaining in itself that not even a troupe full of troubled circus performers can resist laughing along after a baby starts to laugh. Even Peter and Wendy join in laughing.)
Despite the fact that his work is never really done, Joker has to leave shortly after they’ve all had tea. He’ll be back for the evening show, but now that Ellis has been fed, he’s been awake for long enough to start fussing because he’s sleepy. So it’s back to the Baron’s to put the baby down for a nap. Several hours of being fawned over and cooed at is tiring when you’re not very old, after all.
Besides… if Joker doesn’t go back for a short while, he won’t see (Name) again till he crawls into bed after midnight. He needs a few moments with her.
Thankfully, his darling wife is awake by afternoon. Even though she still gets tired easily, she’s usually regained some of her strength after being able to rest in the mornings. She’s not so weak anymore that just feeding the baby drains her, at least, and that means she’s in better spirits. Once Joker puts Ellis down, she’ll be able to stay up to watch him for the rest of the day.
Seeing her always perks him up. Just being able to kiss her and hold her in his arms for a couple of minutes is enough to get him through the rest of the day’s drudgery. Her smile, the sparkle of her eyes when she looks at him, the loving way she cradles Ellis before Joker sets him down in the crib… he still doesn’t know how he got so lucky.
Even though he wants to stay, he forces himself to slip out. One last kiss for his wife, one last kiss to the crown of his son’s head, and he has to head back to the fairground. If he doesn’t, he’ll just get greedy enough to not leave at all.
He’s at least resolved to get through the night once he returns to the circus. He keeps his memories close, and they drive him.
The show is a success. It always is. They all make sure to give the audience something spectacular to look at… and despite the fact that they’re certainly not getting rich, they manage to scrape by. They survive, they earn just enough so that no one has to go hungry. If nothing else, Joker can be proud of that.
Everyone is tired by the time night falls, but the first-stringers still have more to do. They all leave Snake to watch over everyone else, and they gather a short distance away from all the tents.
They all make their last adjustments — Freckles grumbling as they fidget with their parasol, Dagger trying to work out the kinks in his bad leg, Peter and Wendy quietly bickering in the affectionate way only siblings can. Joker’s almost unaware he’s been lost in thought until suddenly Beast is tightening his scarf like she thinks he’s about to catch his death of cold.
“Y’ need ta get some sleep,” she sighs.
He tilts his head, and he’s certain the smile he gives doesn’t meet his eyes. She can see right through it, at least. “Oi, I get ‘s much sleep as the rest’f ye lot.”
She scoffs. “No, y’ don’t. Ellis ain’t old enough t’ sleep through the night, which means you ain’t sleepin’ through the night. Y’re the only one’a us who’s got a baby. Wish y’d let (Name) come back ‘ere with ‘im. Maybe the two’a y’ might get some sleep if we take turns watchin’ ‘im at night.”
It’s painful for all of them. Beast feels guilty, too, he knows that; she also misses (Name)’s company. He knows everyone would be happier if she could have stayed here, especially after giving birth. Things just… didn’t work out that way. There would have been none of her staying here with how sick she got after Ellis was born. She might have died.
And now that she’s getting better… can he even bring her and Ellis back here? Everything is so different, so much worse.
“Soon,” he says softly, even though he’s not sure he means it. He gently brings Beast’s hand down, a silent reassurance that for right now, he’s fine. “She’s startin’ ta feel better… maybe she can come back soon.”
Beast huffs, and her eyes soften, and she shakes her head, and that’s the end of it. Distractions won’t serve them right now.
When they move into the streets, Joker notices that he still hesitates. Every move he and the others make, it puts him in physical pain. To do the things they’re doing, the things the Baron orders them to do… fuck. It makes him hate himself more than ever.
Least of all because if he doesn’t follow orders, then that’s it. His life is over.
If he talks back, if he shows regret, if he does anything that implies he’s questioning his ‘father’… then the Baron will cut off the medicine that’s been helping (Name) to recover. And he’s so done with Joker’s second guessing, he’s been threatening to pull out every little bit of security he’s affording the entire troupe.
If he doesn’t do these things that make him sick, his wife will die. His family will wither. Any chance at saving anything that’s meaningful to him disappears into thin air.
Once they’re all done for the night, once everyone else has returned to their tents, Joker has to stop on the way back to the Baron’s manor. He has to brace himself against a building and struggle to catch his breath.
He doesn’t know whether his body is trying to make him vomit or cry, but whichever it is, tears of strain and sorrow burst to life at the edges of his eyes regardless.
His throat is raw by the time his body decides to stop tormenting him. So his voice comes out raspy as he settles into bed, murmuring, “Jus’ me, darlin’,” when he puts his arms around (Name). He could barely look at Ellis upon walking into the room, his sweet baby fast asleep, after everything he’s done tonight.
He worries about both of them when he isn’t here. But they both seem alright, and his wife was just awake enough to be waiting for him. She rolls over to greet him, to kiss him goodnight, to snuggle in against his chest.
And he holds her, as tight as he possibly can without hurting her. Like she’s the one thing keeping his head above water.
He never sleeps well these days. He closes his eyes all the same, tired from the weight of this life he’s been living.
Tomorrow, he has to get up and do it all over again.
He knows he’s going to wake up more exhausted than he is falling asleep now.
His mind taunts him. How much longer can you keep all this up, Joker?
He doesn’t have an answer.
He just buries his face in (Name)’s neck, tells her one more time that he loves her, and lets sleep take him.
For the millionth time, he knows he will wake up to unanswered prayers.
At least, he thinks, he still has his family, his wife, and his child.
So for the millionth time, because of them, he prays anyway:
Please, God. Let things be better in the morning.
#Black Butler#Kuroshitsuji#Joker#romantic#platonic#familial#angst#fluff#drama#I'M GONNA S C R E A M!!!! HOW DARE UUUUUU#... and honestly how dare ME for writing it#I promise I'll make the next thing in the queue really fluffy to make up for this XD#one hell of a queue
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i didnt see that u had the love language meme up,
um um so what if i ask for them all for jules,
Umm, then I guess I would have no choice but to spill the beans huh?
Words of Affirmation -
Does your muse like giving compliments?
He isn’t the type to compliment for no reason or to try and win favor with them, but he likes to give compliments on things he deems worthwhile. If you’ve done something very well or very helpful, he’ll say as much.
How easy is it for your muse to say‘ i love you’?
So Jules and his ancestor have the whole ‘not saying i love you thing in common’ I think, albeit for different reasons.
He can love, although it’s an infrequent emotion for him-- especially these days. He loved Lad and Oda though, truly. I think it was hard for him to say out loud, he’s always been a bit shy with unabashed feelings.
I think maybe the first time he said it to Ladnah, he wrote in on sticky note and slipped it into his stuff or something...
What is one compliment your muse is dying to hear?
He’s not really the compliment seeking sort tbh, but he’ll always appreciate any compliments on his work.
What is something your muse loves being praised for?
Honestly the compliment thing applies here too,
Acts of Service -
Does your muse like it when people do work for them?
It depends on the work! If it’s not something he cares too much about but still needs to be done, then yeah!
He actually appreciates it a lot in those cases, especially if he doesn’t actually have to ask, but he’s already made it clear that it’s something he wants.
If he cares about the work being done though, he’ll want to have some involvement in getting it done usually.
--Rest of Acts of Service & the other Love Languages under the cut!--
Does your muse enjoy giving people a hand with work?
If it’s something he’s good at/capable with, then yeah! He actually doesn’t mind helping people with things if he likes them.
What acts of service would your muse appreciate the most?
Being brought tea or someone tidying up for him (Although, if you’re cleaning the lab, you better know where everything's designated place is lol).
What is one chore your muse would prefer someone else do for them?
I would absolutely say cooking if his taste buds worked properly, but they don’t... Ironically I’d say laundry for Jules, just like his ancestor. Except he’s got a lot more clothes to keep clean, what with all the people in his care,
Receiving Gifts -
Does your muse enjoy giving gifts?
He does Not enjoy the process of picking out or the embarrassment of giving over the gift, like, at all. However, he does enjoy being able to give little thoughtful and practical things if he can get over the whole ordeal leading up to it.
What is a gift your muse is hoping to receive?
Julius isn’t really hoping to receive anything that can be gifted to him actually, he doesn’t expect anything like that from the people he knows.
Does your muse prefer receiving more practical or fun gifts?
This is pretty obvious tbh, it’s always gonna be practical. When he was younger, he might have liked the occasional fun/practical mix, but that’s not really his speed these days.
Does your muse like it when someone spends a lot of money on them?
Hmmm, I think he did somewhat in the past, especially with dating a teal and a violet lol. These days he’s too untrusting to expect something to not have a catch, though.
Quality Time -
What is your muse’s ideal date night?
Staying in at hive, no question. Jules likes spending time in the same space as his partners, usually doing their own things, but he’s not against finding an activity to do together either.
He likes to have physical contact too, that’d be ideal for him.
How comfortable is your muse with prolonged eye contact?
It really depends on the situation but generally the more he likes you, the less time he can hold eye contact with you for lmao.
He’s also not the best at holding it if he feels guilty for something, but he’s great at holding it if he’s afraid of you!
Does your muse prefer conversation or just sitting quietly with their s/o?
Honestly I was gonna say quiet, but I think with how quiet and lonely things were for him for a while there, he actually likes more conversation these days.
In the past though, he’d lean more towards comfortable silence.
Is it easy for your muse to devote their full attention to one person at a time?
It’s not easy for him to devote time to Anyone these days, but it would be much easier to do one person than many and it’s tricky to win Jules affections as it is.
Physical Touch -
Does your muse like being hugged?
If he really really trusts someone, then yes. His anxiety and paranoia can leave him feeling unsafe a lot, but being hugged by someone you trust makes things feel a little safer...
Where could someone touch your muse to calm them down?
Again, assuming trust, I think the side of his face would be most effective. Opposite of Oda in that regard; you need to bring his attention to you and distract him from whatever is distressing him, so eye contact can actually be helpful.
Is there anywhere on your muse’s body they want to be touched most?
Oooo... His hair, i think he misses that a lot. Also, his waist.
Does your muse find themselves subconsciously seeking out physical contact? ( ie. reaching for s/o’s hand without realizing it )
Younger Jules? Absolutely, he was a pretty touchy guy and most of it was subconscious, too.
Sometimes he would continue the contact with Oda even if it got pointed out to him, just to be obstinate and make some kind of point (Spades, y’know?).
If Lad ever pointed it out, he’d probably get a little embarrassed about it and then ask if he was okay with it... he liked holding that guys hands i think.
Current Jules though? No, never. He kind of wore down that part of himself, he doesn’t really seek it much anymore, subconscious or otherwise.
#about julius#quiescent trolls#love language meme#my grammarly wasn't working on this ask so if this is written like ass ignore that lol#this was fun hehe#since there's sprinkles of mentions#date of death#head and heart#gonna be safe and tag this as#long post
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whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)
gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted
a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)
love, abi xxx
read part one two three four five | my masterlist
tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03
prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.
warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up
Obviously, it wasn't the last time.
Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.
Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.
That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.
So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.
"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"
"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."
Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.
But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.
"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."
Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.
You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.
For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.
John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.
***
You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.
His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.
John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.
"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.
"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."
You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.
As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.
John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.
The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.
"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.
"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.
The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.
"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."
"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.
John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"
"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"
"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.
Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."
"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.
"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."
"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"
"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.
"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."
"No it wasn't, Ada-"
Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.
"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."
"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."
"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.
You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.
John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.
"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"
"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.
"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.
"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.
"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.
"Why didn't you?"
You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.
"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.
You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.
"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."
"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.
"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"
"We weren't thinking."
"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."
She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.
"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."
"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"
"We're done here, John."
He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."
The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.
"John, it should've never happened."
"But it did."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."
"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"
"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."
"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."
You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.
"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.
"I'd drive you home but obviously-"
"Obviously."
John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.
Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.
Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.
"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.
He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."
"Just how he is." You shrugged.
"Does he love you or sommet?"
"Fuck knows… does it matter?"
"Of course it does. Do you love him?"
"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.
Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."
He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.
"Iz… I don't know what to do next."
It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.
"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."
***
John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.
"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.
Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.
He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.
He should've never approached you that night.
He should never approach you again.
He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.
#john shelby imagine#john shelby x reader#john shelby fluff#john shelby series#john shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fluff#peaky blinder fanfic#john shelby smut#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader
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domestic life hc—tartaglia | childe
word count: 2.8k
pairing: tartaglia | childe/gn!reader
genre: fluff
a/n: idk man i got the childe brainrot,, fictional kgb member, i love you <3
who kisses the other on the nose and the one receiving the kiss blushes?
childe would do it a lot to you, especially at the beginning of your relationship.
not that he doesn’t like giving you nose kisses—he still loves kissing you in general <3
it’s just that when you both just started out, your reaction would be more potent. you’d be more flustered, stammering as you stared him with wide eyes.
if you asked him why, he’d give a smile that’s so painfully honeyed, while his eyes twinkled with mischief.
« you’re just too cute when you act all shy. » his voice teasing.
but here’s the secret.
he is not immune to nose boops.
do not hesitate to do it to him!! give him a taste of his own medicine!!!
he will not expect your boldness and he will be caught very off guard.
his own reaction would be just or even more incredible than yours, actually sksksksk.
tease him and reap the rewards man.
he’d snap up and blink at you, surprised. not quite believing that yes, actually, two can play at this game. he’d try to stutter out a witty comeback, but it holds no bite due to the furious blush covering his face.
either way, the both of you would laugh it out.
nowadays tho, you mostly just playfully roll your eyes at him and smile lazily, waiting until he gives you a kiss on the lips too.
who sits on their partner’s lap as they wrap their arms around their partners neck?
this man is your throne and you will sit on your rightful place.
real talk tho, childe makes a p decent chair considering. and he actually likes having you on his lap—it gives him free and unrestricted access to everything.
his arms would snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him. he’s not letting his prey you go anytime soon, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
as you wrap your arms around his neck, his hands may even wander elsewhere.
maybe you’ll simply hold each other close, tenderly closing the distance between the two of you, happy to have his affection, and him yours.
or maybe he’ll take it as an opportunity to kiss you, roughly, with desire, with want, until you’re breathless and your lips are bruised. this position, you think, as you feel his hand sneak under your clothes and trace your bare skin (which now feels unbearably hot), may also lead to something else. something more.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
who kisses the inside of their partner’s palm before reassuring them everything is going to be okay?
before setting off on his travels, childe would press a gentle kiss on the inside of your hand, reassuring. it’s a message, a reminder, a promise.
a promise that he’ll stay safe, that’ll he’ll return to you, unharmed.
he does it to soothe your worries and let you know that there was nothing to be worried about—he doesn’t want you to get all stressed on his behalf. as much as it pains him to part from you for too long, he needs to do what he must; but he’ll be thinking of you and your health every step of the way.
so like
to go on a bit of a tangent
we know that childe’s work, as a fatui—a harbinger no less—is of course very dangerous. and even though he’s more than capable of handling whatever his travels throw at him, you can’t help but be worried for him.
and i also feel like, if you didn’t know this [his true nature] from the get-go, he’d hide his actual line of work or obfuscate most of the details from you.
it’s because he doesn’t want to stress you with the more gruesome details.
if you were never aware of the darker side of his profession, then he’d rather not have your perception of him be tainted. in your eyes, he was just sweet, darling tartaglia—not the murderer or weapon of war that he really was—and he'd prefer to keep it that way.
he’s aware that fatuis get bad rap as is, and he doesn’t know how he’d feel if his status made you afraid of him, or even worse, detest him. you hating him was the last thing he wanted.
you generally respect his boundaries, and accept whatever vague descriptions he gives you about his current “commission” (location, length of time). you have your doubts about his work as a “merchant”, but you have faith that he’ll see his endeavours through, even if you yourself are unsure and concerned.
anyway i…
i’m getting horribly off topic 0A0
moving on—
who initiates the forehead touch™?
after a long day of gruelling work, he’d probably long for your touch and affection, without exactly having the energy left to really vocalise his feelings.
or at least, eloquently.
that’s why on quiet evenings, he’d seek you out and gently press his forehead against yours, pleased; you happy enough to follow his lead.
maybe childe lays his head on your lap while you play with his hair, untangling knots that have somehow formed in his unruly hair. at some point, he may reach out and pull you closer, close enough that your foreheads are touching. close enough to feel his warm breath fan your face.
you have to bend down a bit, and truthfully the position’s awkward, but your back’s protests are the last thing in your mind as you stare back into his pearlescent blue eyes.
despite his weariness, your comfort brings a smile to his face.
sometimes, he may even murmur something about how happy he was to be back home.
no words are exchanged, but there doesn’t need to be.
the love is there, and the both of you are content enough to simply revel in it.
where do they first say “I love you”?
things such as “i love you” and “i need you” are hard to utter for childe.
it’s a sign of weakness for him, and it’s a sign of weakness he does not wish to reveal nor acknowledge. if he says it, if he says that he loves you, he’s admitting a defect.
he has very little allies, and his enemies would not hesitate to take advantage of any leverage they can get. he doesn’t want you to be in danger because of him, he doesn’t want you to be used against him.
so admitting such vulnerability is very difficult for him.
however, though childe may be cold and calculated, tartaglia, ajax, is a man of feelings.
despite his consternation, he puts great importance over his loyalties and whom he offers his love to.
the first time he admits that he loves you, it is with great difficulty, as if it was a sin he shan’t utter.
he loves you, he thinks, but he cannot vocalise.
the first time he admits it, it was an accident. an impulse, the words whispered out against his consent, escaping before he was able to hold them in.
he carelessly lets the phrase out, and a part of him regrets while the other rejoices.
you make him weak when no other stands a chance to subjugate him so.
he hates it and he loves it oh so much.
it’s so so dangerous, and yet he is addicted.
he loves you.
who wraps their arms around their partner who’s cooking?
ok so like, it’s canon:
his siblings acknowledge him as the “the bestest big brother ever!” because he can cook and do housework. we stan a househusband.
anyway, this means that he’s at least a decent chef.
but because of his busy schedule as a harbinger, he rarely ever finds the time to cook, or to even be home. when he does get home, he would greet you before promptly passing tf out.
so he’d usually buy food when he remembers to eat. besides, his salary pretty much allows him to savour whatever liyue delicacy he wants to. the price, whatever it may have been, was negligible.
but honestly, truly, regardless of how luxurious and mouth-watering such expensive dishes were, nothing could beat home cooking. it hit different.
knowing this, you tended to prepare enough for two during dinner and save his portion on the dining table for when he gets home while you retreated to bed.
but on the off chance that he does get a day off, you best bet he’ll spend all that time within your presence. he is not letting you out of his sight and his arm’s reach.
he’ll ask you what you wanted to do. what you wanted to eat; he would treat you to anything, to repay your kindness, your thoughtfulness, as a way to say thank you, to say he’s glad to have you here and that he honestly truly cares for you.
you didn’t have to make him food but u did 🥺
if you said you just wanted something homemade, or if you wanted to taste what traditional snezhnayan food, he’d be more than happy to make you some of his favourite comfort food.
honestly you’re just shook that the man knows how to cook, and is quite good at it. an unexpected talent that makes you go “damn he’s the one, lads.”
as he works his magic, you’d help him around here and there, bringing this and chopping that. but for the most part, you’d just be his distraction and annoy him.
he will also annoy you back tbh.
playful digs and shade will be thrown… among other things being thrown…
yeah… cleaning up the kitchen is going to be a pain after this…
but he wouldn’t have it any other way—neither would you, for that matter.
you’re either gonna make something very delicious or nothing’s getting done, there’s no in between. you set the tone for this day dkfjd
if you want a chance in hell to actually get to eat something at the end, your best plan is to just wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. you’d pepper his skin with kisses while he tries his best to not be distracted from the task at hand (and maybe not slice his hand open with a knife).
oh well, what’s a little collateral damage here and there?
he’s here.
he’s yours, at least for now.
and you will take advantage of this.
who breaks out the first aid kit when the other gets a paper cut?
paternal cell.
paternal cell.
paternal cell.
we know childe do be a family man tho.
like let’s be honest, this man is a family man.
he loves his siblings and he loves his family. he has a very honest protective streak over his family and proclaimed loved ones. he hates seeing them hurt or unhappy so he will do anything to avoid such a situation.
if it does happen, he will do his damndest to remedy it.
so if he sees you getting hurt, even if it was simply just a paper cut, you best believe it’s protective ajax time and he’s pulling out the first aid kit.
bandaids, antiseptic, anti-inflammatory lotion, you name it. you tell him you don’t actually need half of these items and he shushes you before fussing over you.
he is making sure whatever ailment you have will heal up nicely and quickly.
he doesn’t want to see ur hurt :( and he rlly hopes u heal as fast as possible. you being hurt hurts him tenfold.
but not to worry, if he gets hurts? you’re also there very very quickly. you will rush to his side and you will fret over him, and his heart will fall all over for you once more, because you care about him and honestly it’s a nice feeling.
to be cared for.
maybe he doesn’t mind getting hurt if it means you would give him all of your attention and dote on him.
he just has to make sure you don’t find out he’s been getting injured intentionally because that’s instant banishment to the sofa for at least a few days.
who cuddles up to the other?
i like to imagine childe is a pretty affectionate dude, as in, he’s pretty touchy-feely. there’s also a little bit of possessiveness i think.
a lot of pda with this guy.
he wants to hold you close, he wants to be able to feel you near him.
so regardless of the time and place, he will make it known that you’re his, as he is yours.
it is no different as to when you’re in private. he’d snuggle up to you.
idk he just likes being near you? holding you, touching you, feeling you.
sometimes he can be a little restless in bed. if he doesn’t immediately conk out, he might build up some nighttime anxiety and paranoia. having you sleep soundly besides him makes it a little more bearable. it makes him feel safe and it certainly grounds him.
he finds that he sleeps a lot better and wakes up feeling a little more refreshed when you’re there with him.
of course, you were more than happy to reciprocate and curl up to him, his arms enveloping you.
though he might make a bit of a fuss and whinge, he lowkey highkey likes being in your arms. he won’t admit it, but being the little spoon is nice actually.
childe won’t ask for it or anything, he still wants to save face, but as you cuddle, the two of you would gradually shift until he has his head over your chest and he can hear the rhythmic beating of your heart. calming him.
who falls asleep on who? what is their reaction when the other falls asleep on them?
because of his job as a harbinger (not that you know that), he rarely ever comes home early or during normal human waking hours, so despite your determination you’re usually asleep by the time he slips inside your shared home.
that or by the time childe was comfortably sat next to you, more than happy to cuddle and listen to you ramble on about your day your excitement has already worn off, and in its place, drowsiness.
but it’s ok.
he would smile softly to himself, you asleep in his arms, small smile gracing your own lips, and gently lift up and carry you to your shared bedroom. slowly, carefully, he’d place himself near you without waking you up.
oh well, it can’t be helped. he’s happy enough to be around you, to have someone waiting for him.
but on the off chance you’re still awake while he was asleep, you would definitely take this chance to admire him, quietly watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
without that characteristic smug and self-satisfied grin, you’d wager he looked “innocent” you chuckle. but “innocent” and “childe” don’t belong in the same sentence.
stroking his hair, you’d notice how he looked so peaceful, carefree, even, when he’s asleep, and you long for the time when he’d look such a way when he was awake
you’d gently kiss his forehead, unable to bring yourself to break his peaceful repose to bring him to bed. instead, you wrapped a blanket you nabbed from childe’s bedroom around his shoulders and settle in his arms, happy to be near the man you love.
the next day, the both of you may wake up with terribly stiff necks rip
who likes to be held and who likes to hold?
i feel as if this is a shared sentiment. you both hold each one another an equal amount. ^u^
he’s used to being the older brother, the protector to his younger siblings, and he doesn’t oppose to having that role.
so in true childe fashion, he’d tease you for being all cuddly and insatiably hungry for his affection, but coddles you all the same (because he just loves the thought of, and being, held close).
you on the other hand love being adored by the object of your affection, paying no mind to his quips (ok maybe paying a little mind, as you huff and playfully hit him for being mean).
it’s ok though. he makes it up through his actions. and being paid attention to, cared for, adored and cherished by childe? you revel in it.
when you take him in your arms, he feels immensely happy and relieved.
to know that you care for him, that you’re looking out for him and that you love him—it brings forth a part of him he has long believed to have locked away and discarded.
a part of him that would’ve been considered weak, a part of him that wishes to be vulnerable, protected, and loved.
he figures that when it’s with you, it’s alright. he embraces it all the same because he trusts you.
you’re both smitten and you think to yourself that it’s alright his way.
because you have his heart, and he has yours.
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#genshin impact#tartaglia childe genshin impact#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#falselywrites#i wrote half of this during new year's#aka#i was wasted lmaoo#but apparently#good things happen when im sloshed idk
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not your duke [tom holland x reader]
➽ pairing: prince!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n)
➽ word count: 2.7k
➽ summary: at the dawn of the new century, you meet two men: one, your betrothed, and the other, a prince with a secret.
➽ warnings: explicit language, gothic era shit bc i live for that
➽ a/n: many thanks to the loml @earthlyholland for coming up with the title and urging me to finish writing this i luv u kiss
Nothing had ever drawn you into London. In fact, you were staunchly opposed to the idea when your father first told you that you were moving. What was the point of it? You knew that your father could conduct business as easily from the States as from England, but what’s done is done. You had lived in London for a short time, only a few months, before you realized the real reason why your father relocated you.
You met your fiancé at a party. London was known for its aristocracy, and your father’s banking business had put him in high regard with many of the British elite, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were invited to a New Years party. “The Osterfields,” your father told you. “I’m told they have a son only just older than you.”
“Really?” you asked, looking out the window, hardly curious. “His name?”
“Harrison,” your father told you. The carriage bumped along the street, and you swayed with it. “The Honourable Harrison Osterfield of Kingston.”
“Of course he’s noble,” you muttered. “Father, will you ever stop trying to marry me off?”
“Your younger sister is already married,” your father reminded you. “If it’s not soon, it’ll never happen. And Sir Harrison is a perfectly agreeable gentleman.”
“Agreeable to you,” you scoffed.
“He’s an Oxford-educated man,” your father pressed. “Well-read, which I know is something you covet. I’m told he’s a good conversationalist as well; I guess you’ll be able to judge that for yourself tonight.”
You cried out in opposition. “Father! Am I to meet Little Lord Fauntelroy tonight?”
“Watch your tongue, girl. You are to meet your fiancé tonight.”
The New Years party hosted by the Baron and Baroness Osterfield was what you expected, a lush spectacle of champagne and pleasing music and perfume. It wasn’t the sort of place that you usually found comfort at, but you tried your best; the Baron Osterfield was a close business partner of your father’s, and you couldn’t afford to muck everything up by having a foul attitude. “Lord Osterfield,” my father began, placing a hand on my back to usher me into his conversation. “Might I introduce my daughter?”
The man before you was older, his fair hair tinged with a bit of grey, but he was dressed wonderfully in his tails and a red tie. “Pleasure to meet you, miss,” he said in a sonorous voice. “You’re the lass that’s engaged to our Haz, yes?”
“So I’ve been told,” you smiled, and your father sent a warning pinch to your back through your dress. Attitude, you could hear him scolding you.
“Have you met him yet?” Lord Osterfield asked. “He’s a strapping lad; running around with his uni mates, I’m sure.” He looked around the room, bustling with activity, and he made a quick motion with his hand when he spotted someone across the room.
The space before you was suddenly filled by a young man, still older than you, blond hair and green eyes, a wonderful smile on his face and his cheeks blushed. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, and he took your hand in a gentle but strong hold. “Hello, madam,” he said cordially. “I’m called Harrison. Haz, to most.”
“Haz,” you repeated slowly. “I’d rather keep with Lord Osterfield, if that pleases you.”
“Of course, madam,” Harrison said. “Might I interest you in a turn about the garden? It’s such a lovely night.”
You looked to your father for permission, and he patted your back with a nod. Harrison saw this and gave a smile, and you hooked your arm with his as he led you out into the cold December night. Harrison’s body was warm and you found yourself moving into him, and he finally stopped at a metal bench along the path. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Harrison asked, settling himself onto the bench.
You shrugged. Harrison took that to mean “No”, and he situated a cigarette in his mouth. It was rolled perfectly, either the work of a skilled amateur or a professional; either way, it was the smallest proof of his aristocracy. All of your friends smoked lopsided cigarettes that had tobacco that spilled out of the ends.
“I’m sure you like this as well as I do,” Harrison began. “I told my parents that I prefer to marry for love, but my younger sister is already married. They said it was getting to be--”
“Too late,” you supplied. “My father said the same of me.”
“You prefer to marry for love as well?” Harrison asked. Feeling slightly more at ease than before, you sat down next to him, fiddling with your skirt to lay right.
“I would like to,” you said. “But we both know that’s not possible.”
Harrison shrugged. “We only have a few minutes left of this year,” he said, looking at the Swiss watch on his wrist. “Who knows? Maybe 1900 holds newfound possibilities.”
You tilted your head. “What makes you so sure?” you asked.
“I’m not sure,” Harrison chuckled. A strand of blond escaped the rest of his styled hair, and you gently pushed it back, earning you a smile from your fiancé. “I’m just hopeful.”
“Hope can be dangerous,” you remarked.
“That’s true,” Harrison said. “But what’s the harm in having a little hope? Perhaps we can learn to love each other.”
“Perhaps we can,” you agreed. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to do that.”
Harrison smiled at you, and you huffed out a laugh. He pulled a drag from his cigarette, and he said, “So we’re getting married, huh?”
“Seems like it.”
There was a shout from the house, one that made Harrison look over, and you did as well to see a man, about the same age as Harrison, dressed nicely with curly hair, half-hanging out of the house. “Haz, get your stupid arse in here!” the man yelled. “Find your girl, the clock’s about to turn!”
“I have my girl, you git!” Harrison cried. Before either of you could say anything, the man slipped from the house and came over to the two of you, and Harrison rolled his eyes. “Here we go…” he whispered.
“This is her?” the man asked. He was British too, and he smiled at you widely.
“Yes,” Harrison said, and he stood up. You did the same, and Harrison carefully took your hand. “This is Y/N, my fiancé.”
“Ah,” the man said. “Hello, madam.”
“Y/N, this is one of my mates from university,” Harrison told you. “Duke Harold Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames.”
“Call me Harry,” he said quickly. “Everyone else does.”
“Harry,” you said with a relieved smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Harry said. “Have you only just met?”
“Just several minutes ago,” Harrison told him, his arm snaking around your waist.
“Well, it’s quite cold out,” Harry said. “And the clock’s about to turn. Come in, madam, get a drink.”
“Oh, I don’t drink,” you told Lord Harry Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames quickly. “It doesn’t agree with me.”
“No matter,” Harry said. “I’ll warn you, though: a drink completely agrees with your fiancé.” He gave a laugh, and you noticed that Harrison shifted uncomfortably next to you.
“Well, Christ, don’t make me out to be a drunkard,” Harrison laughed nervously. “You’ll frighten her away, and we only just agreed to go through with this.”
“Not meant to frighten you, madam,” Harry said quickly. “In fact, my oldest brother doesn’t drink. Perhaps you two will get along.”
“Oh, no, Harry, she’ll hate Thomas,” Harrison sighed. He looked at you, then added, “Thomas is quite a bore, honestly. Not nearly as fun as me, Harry or Sam.”
“Sam? Thomas?” you asked. You agreed that Haz and Harry seemed like fun, but anxiety thrummed in your chest. If Thomas was a bore to Harrison, you didn’t want to know what he truly thought of you. You could easily also be classified as a bore: you preferred reading and drawing to the piano or squash that was popular with your friends. You had done ballet when you were growing up, but were by no means athletic otherwise.
“My twin brother, Samuel,” Harry began. “And Thomas is… Haz is right, he’s an awful bore. He brought a fucking book tonight, can you believe it? What sort of sod brings a book to a party?”
“But Thomas is a good friend,” Harrison added. “He’s a wonderful listener and gives excellent advice.”
You nodded slowly. Thomas already seemed like a better match than Harrison, and you cursed your father. Of course he would match you with someone who wasn’t the best option for you. But no matter. Your fiancé offered you his arm and you took it, and you followed the men back into the ballroom. There was a renewed energy, and the ballroom was abuzz. You were introduced to Duke Samuel Holland, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Harry (as they should), and were briefly told about the twins’ younger brother, a boy of sixteen named Lord Patrick. The Honourable Charlotte Osterfield came after Sam, and she was giggling the entire night; she was engaged to Sir Tuwaine Barrett of Chelsea, another uni mate of your fiance’s.
“Where is Thomas?” Harrison asked, looking around wildly. “He promised me that he’d be my New Years’ kiss!”
“Did he swear to it as he did to Nadia?” Harry chortled. “I bet he’s gone home already. Slipped away without any of us noticing.”
The clock chimed, and Harrison turned his jade gaze back to you. You gave him a gleeful look over the brim of your champagne as you took a sip, and your body cowered at the bitterness of the French alcohol. “Happy New Year, dearest,” Harrison said quietly, just for you to hear. “Here’s to many more.”
You nodded. Suddenly, your chest felt tight, and your head was spinning, and you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. You suddenly saw the rest of your life flash in front of your eyes: The Honorable Lady Osterfield, on your husband’s arm every single day, expected to please him and serve him. You didn’t want that.
“Y/N,” Harrison said, putting a hand on your shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you at least felt comforted at his genuine worry. “You look pale. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you whispered. “Quite fine. I told you that alcohol doesn’t agree well with me.”
Harrison nodded, his lips drawn thin, and he turned to Harry. “Call her carriage,” he instructed him. “I think my dearest needs to go home.”
Harry nodded, giving you a worried look, but hurried off to do as his friend requested. Harrison took the flute of champagne from you and set it down, and he put a hand on your back. “I hate that you’ve gone ill,” he said. “I do wish we can see each other again, though. I enjoy your company greatly.”
“And I, yours,” you replied. “I really apologize for my behavior--”
“Harrison,” a booming voice came, and you looked to see the Baron Osterfield approaching you. “I need to speak with you, son.”
“Father, can it wait?” Harrison asked. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“His Majesty needs to speak to you,” Lord Osterfield said. “A business venture, he says.”
Harrison looked from you to his father, and he chewed his bottom lip. “I’ll be right there,” he told his father. “I just need to escort Y/N to her carriage.”
“Harrison, Dominic cannot be kept waiting,” Lord Osterfield grumbled. “Especially not on such a matter.”
Harrison looked at you once more, then his eyes caught someone behind you. “Thomas,” he said. “Thomas! Come here, please!”
Your heart hit against the wall of your chest when you finally saw Thomas Holland. He was a well-built man, wearing nice clothes that were a bit worn in places. His hair was dark, and in frizzy curls, crawling down his face, as was the fashion. His eyes were the color of amber, his cheeks pink, his lips thin but like a rose. He had a book under his arm, bound in leather, a bit of paper sticking from the top. “Would you do me an amazing favor?” Harrison asked. “I have to speak to your father; can you escort Y/N to her carriage out front?”
“Y/N?” Thomas asked, and your heart warmed and melted just like chocolate. He had a beautiful voice, and you could just imagine the way he sounded as he read aloud.
“My betrothed,” Harrison said, gesturing to you. “She’s fallen ill and must be taken home at once.”
Thomas finally pulled his gaze to your face, and a lopsided smile came across his face. “Oh, of course,” he said. “Such an honor to meet you, madam.”
“Same to you, sir,” you said. “I’ve heard tell about you.”
Thomas’s smile faltered. “Good things?” he asked.
“Nothing but the best,” you said. You still felt dizzy, but Thomas’s warm hand on your arm brought you comfort, much more than Harrison’s did. “I apologize again, Lord Osterfield. I hope to see you soon.”
Harrison kissed the back of your hand. “Same to you, dearest.”
Thomas led you out of the crowded and loud ballroom to the front of the manor. “Lord Osterfield?” he chuckled lowly. “He’s your fiancé. You should call him by his name.”
You shrugged. “I can’t bring myself to,” you said. “I hardly know him.”
Thomas nodded. “I understand,” he said. “So… Harrison told you good things about me?” You nodded, and Thomas let out a laugh. You could tell that it was bitter, though. “Excuse my language, madam, but that’s a load of horseshit. You know it as well as I do. Harrison only puts up with me because my brothers are his closest mates.”
You were startled at his honesty. “I suppose that’s true,” you mumbled. “My sisters are the same with me. They call me boring, say I’m no fun.”
“The same is said of me,” Thomas said. “I’m perhaps the least commendable of my brothers.”
You nodded carefully, then tilted your head to look at his novel. “What are you reading?” you asked.
Thomas smiled. “You’d like to know what I’m reading?” he asked. “Are you actually curious?”
“Yes!” you said. “I just read the most wonderful novel, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s called McTeague and it’s about an American dentist--”
“By Frank Norris?” Thomas asked excitedly. He pulled out the book to show you, and you smiled at the same one you had been describing. “It’s so entertaining. You’ve finished it, then?”
“Just last night,” you told him. “I won’t spoil it for you, but it was so wonderful.”
“Have you read The Picture of Dorian Gray?” Thomas asked. When you shook your head, Thomas’s face went red, and he laughed. “It’s my favorite. I could lend you my copy, if you’d like.”
“Oh, Thomas, that would be so lovely,” you gushed. “You’re too kind.”
Thomas shrugged. “You’re my best mate’s girl,” he said. “I’m obligated to be kind to you.”
You chewed your bottom lip. “And what of your wife?” you asked. “Am I to meet her soon?”
Thomas came to a stop at the edge of the steps, casting a glance out at the carriage that rumbled closer. “I am unwedded,” he said. “Courtships have come and gone, but none have ever come to fruition. My father believes in me proposing rather than being forced into marriage, but I’ve never found a lady that I truly loved.”
Your carriage stopped before the two of you, and the Osterfield’s servant opened the door for you. “Miss Y/L/N,” he said, then turned his attention to Thomas, and he lowered his head in reverence. “Your Highness.”
“Your Highness?” you repeated, and your heart flipped in your chest. “But I thought that you were a duke?”
“My brothers are,” Thomas explained. “But, seeing as I’m the oldest and heir apparent, I get a different tile.”
“Your Highness, though?” you chuckled. “What are you, a prince?”
Your laughter died when you saw the stony look on Thomas’s face. “Yes,” he said. “Did Harrison not tell you?”
You shifted. No. Please, God, you pleaded. Don’t let it be true.
A smile played at Thomas’s face. “My lady,” he said. “I’m Thomas Stanley Holland. Prince Thomas of England.”
#tom holland#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland au#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader fluff#tom holland x reader#prince!tom holland
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O SHOOT REQUESTS !!! ill take my chances and ask for a zombie apocalypse or pirate au ft. hoseok 👀 i couldnt choose between the two aus and im hoseok biased but i can honestly see any member so do as who u see fit. i will not let my pairing/au choice limit the authors talent 😤 and i dont doubt anything from you will satisfy. and pshhh,, where are my manners. please and thank u! love u 💛
↳ Crocodile Tears
1.8k || 98% Fluff, 2% Angst || Jung Hoseok || Pirate!AU
“Look what I nabbed, Cap’n.”
Gunner Taehyung’s grinning with all teeth, a golden chain wrapped around his fingers that’s so shiny it’s blinding with the sunlight. Hoseok’s intrigued and flips the locket in his hand. It’s heavy with a wild rose engraved on the front and once he pops it open, there’s a faded painted portrait of a young woman inside.
“It’s a booty, eh? Caught if off milady right over ‘ere.”
Hoseok hums and narrows his eyes on the wrench tied in rope sitting amongst the captives. Your face is dirtied, hair drawn in a bun at your crown but with many strands fallen around your face. Your gown rat’s coloured, dull gray. You are entirely unremarkable. Like any other peasant.
But it’s not often captives have something of value on them.
“Bring her to my cabin.”
“Aye, aye.”
The ship sets sail again. Taehyung keeps the captives quiet with the threat of throwing them overboard while the cabin boy Jungkook swabs the poop deck. Helmsman Seokjin mans the helm with navigator Namjoon by his side. The ship’s heading to dock at Port Galigeo to get a pretty penny for all the loot and treasures they’ve gotten after four months’ voyage.
Once steep waters are reached and everything’s been taken care of, Hoseok resumes to his cabin. There, he finds you, sitting in the corner on the floorboards with tears in your eyes. You gasp as he enters and shuts the door.
“Please! Spare me!” you beg sorrowfully. “Let me go!”
“Why should I?” Hoseok tosses his hat onto his table and his coat to his rickety chair. You look so frightful, even when he’s still in his drawers and shirt, held together by the red sash.
He fiddles with the many golden rings across his fingers, a habit since he began his adventures, and he comes over to you. Hoseok’s boots are heavy against the floorboards, and he crouches down to meet your trembling eyes.
“I-I am just a peasant,” you sob. “I have nothing to give to you! My father is merely a farmer.”
“Oh? Then what be this here?” Hoseok dangles the priceless locket in front of you as the corner of his lip curls. It catches the light from the tiny window of the cabin and the gold gleams against your eyes, practically sparkling like a jewel.
Your eyes flicker from it to him, hiccuping and frame quivering like a damn leaf. “It’s my grandmother’s. She left it for me before she passed.”
Hoseok hums a low note. “An’ if this be your grandmother’s, how she pay for such a treasure? Unless she been a thief.”
Your downcast head shakes. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”
He pops the locket open before taking a good look at it. “This here be a portrait of you, isn’t it? You look different. Lavish. Like a noble’s daughter.”
“T-That isn’t me.”
“Then who?”
“I don’t know.”
There’s something rather pretty in the way tears drip down your cheeks, so soft and gentle like jewels of their own right. But Hoseok has seen many women, children and men cry. It’s nothing astonishing.
Hoseok smirks, a rush of air leaving his nose. “I’ve been cap’n of this ship for nearly a decade, dearest. I’ve held treasures you could only dream of, been in battles that nearly lost my leg, sailed ‘cross the seven seas with me mates. I know when a wrench lies.”
His eyes are narrowed in on yours. And Hoseok comes closer, hand lifting to grab a hold of your chin. But before he can, before he can blink or breathe — suddenly, you brandish a piece of glass against his exposed neck.
The ropes around you clatter to the ground. Hoseok feels the sharp edge of the glass digging into his skin, a moment away from nicking him and drawing blood. But more notably, your eyes are aflame. Your expression is dark and you’re scowling at him.
Gone is the fragile little girl weeping for mercy.
“Don’t come closer,” you warn in a low voice without a single tremble.
He leans back, but his gaze stays on yours. “You reckon you could kill me?”
“I wouldn’t hesitate.”
Hoseok’s mouth curls, grin stretching into his cheek. His interest is piqued. He knew there was more to you beneath the surface, and he’s happy you haven’t disappointed.
His hand latches onto your wrist to force your hand away. It's a battle of strength. One that he ultimately wins as the piece of glass goes clattering on the ground out of your reach. He sees it’s part of a broken bottle. But Hoseok’s much too put off guard and when your leg kicks out at him, he’s smacked square in the chin.
He grips it as he lands on his ass, sharply exhaling. But then he bursts into chuckles.
“You got some mean spirit in you, sweetheart.”
Unfortunately for you, Hoseok has far too much experience in combat and capture. Even if you try to kick, strike and even bite him, it’s not too difficult to get you tied into ropes again. Except this time, he makes sure to use his special knots and get you so wound up, no sharp edge could free you.
“Let me go, bastard!”
“Settle down. You’re only gettin’ yourself riled.” Hoseok crouches in front of you again and comes to wipe away the stray tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You angrily scowl at him, chest rising and falling. Crying won’t get you far now, not when he knows they’re just crocodile tears. “Don’t get yourself worried about someone hurtin’ you. Everyone on this ship swears by our code, me included.”
You scoff. “As if I’d trust a pirate.”
Hoseok smirks. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so already. It isn’t pleasin’ for me to force a girl like yourself either. Not when I have plenty o’ gold to play with a wrench at the dock. Now I suggest you behave or my Quartermaster’ll throw you overboard.”
“Then do it!” you shout at him with your entire body, only to flop over to the floorboards.
He grips the knob of the door and looks over his shoulder. “No. You’re too much of a treasure, sweetheart.”
The sun is falling over the horizon when Namjoon approaches. “Everything go well with the girl?”
Hoseok hums and turns with a glint in his eye. “Tell all hands to keep her separate.”
Port Galigeo is reached within two days time. The waters are calm without storms and the stars are clear at night. The sailing is smooth and so the docks are reached faster than ever before.
The men aboard are eager to sell the loot, to spend a few days ashore, spend nights at the brothel and replenish the rum. As follows, their steps are quick and they move the crates of jewels and tools to the harbour. Seokjin also takes care of the captives, leading them in a straight line off the gangplank to be sold.
“Cap’n! What ‘bout the beauty ‘ere.” Taehyung points to you.
Hoseok meets your eyes and you’re seething, glaring back at him. The corner of his mouth curls in amusement.
“Leave her. Tell the lad to watch over her till we return.” He points to Jungkook and Taehyung nods with an ‘aye, aye’.
Most of his crewmen take care of business, getting as much gold for the loot as possible. But Hoseok fiddles with your pendant in hand and heads to a jeweler. Said jeweler is an old man who quivers upon seeing him, Namjoon and Seokjin in his shop. He hides behind his table and cries, “Please! Spare me! Take what you must!”
Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t know why everyone thinks so badly of him. Maybe because he’s a pirate and he and his crew have pillaged countless. That’s fair, he supposes.
“Stop yer quivering,” Seokjin spews out, leaning against his table. “We need you to look at somethin’. Hurry before I steal your silver!”
Hoseok lifts your golden locket, letting it dangle from his hand.
The old man eventually slinks out when he realizes they won’t do anything, and he takes out his magnifying glass. He motions for him to bring it forward and Hoseok does. The old man hums, studying the locket before flipping it over in his hand. His thumb brushes against the wild rose engraving.
“Where did you get this from?” he asks.
“Don’t matter,” Namjoon says curtly.
Hoseok studies the man’s face and leans closer. “What is it?”
“It is a very valuable locket. I happen to recognize this symbol as well. It is the emblem of the Crochetta Kingdom.” He pops the locket open to the portrait of the young woman and looks up at Hoseok, clearing his throat. “I believe this locket belongs to the youngest princess of that kingdom. The runaway.”
Hoseok’s brow cocks.
The three of them leave in a hurry.
Seokjin’s eyes are glazed as his mouth starts to spew how Lady Luck is truly on their side, how they’ll be able to get their hands on a high ransom or sell you for countless riches. Namjoon is perplexed at how a princess like you managed to get here when Crochetta was countries away.
But Hoseok remains quiet. He doesn’t plan to trade you. He doesn’t ask questions.
He is entirely and wholly intrigued. Like never before.
“Blimey, the ship!” There’s a shout at the docks and Hoseok is torn from his thoughts. Taehyung has his hands in the air, cursing aloud. And Hoseok’s eyes trail from him to his ship that’s off the dock and disappearing over the horizon. “It’s sailing away!”
Seokjin is aghast. “How?!”
“Who’s still on?!” Hoseok shouts, looking around the dock to all his shocked men and their mouths drawn open big enough to catch flies.
“That girl,” Namjoon says, looking at the captain.
Hoseok tied you tightly, he made sure of it. Unless you freed yourself again. But it’s not possible that you lifted the anchor.
No. You must’ve cut the rope.
“Where’s Jungkook?”
At the same time, there’s a high-pitched shriek in the distance. All of the men are held to their spots on the docks as they watch a tiny figure in the horizon get pushed off the ship’s deck and then plopped into the waters.
There’s a loud splash.
You stole the ship.
Hoseok is quiet when his men turn to him. They don’t dare utter a single word, far too afraid their captain is boiling with anger. But what frightens them far more is when Hoseok suddenly bursts out into chortling laughter.
He laughs and grins as he watches his ship sail into the distance.
You were truly a treasure hard to find. He knew it when he saw you.
And now, he’ll just have to catch you again.
#bts fanfic#bts scenario#hoseok fanfic#hoseok fluff#hoseok reader insert#hoseok scenario#bts reader insert#bts drabble#bangtans-peaceful-piegon#Jimlings#let's goooo Hoseok as a hot sexy pirateee!!!
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*cracks knuckles* u asked for asks so here we go!! Just. Anything with the hills have eyes lads because they don't have enough love. What kind of person would they each look for in a partner and how would they meet? 💕
Ohhh boyo boyo, lets get into this!!! I also added Ruby cause she deserves love ❤️
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Ruby: Definitely someone that can help her escape and take her away from her family, that doesn't flinch or make horrid faces at her features, someone who just calls her beautiful and wants to help her.
Being saved by a kind, cute boy or girl, who is around the same age as her and has a family that help her escape her mutant clan, just come and take her in and help give her the life she deserves. A wonderful scenario she fantasies about every night.
How they would meet is probably her finding them when her brother and cousin go out on a hunt.
Lizard: Doesn't deserve a partner at all, he'd just say "A woman with big tits and who will suck his dick every day all day" but what he'll end up with is one nasty mean significant other who is just as cruel and mean as him, who'll mostly likely not even want to be around him.
They'd meet from Lizard and the others attacking their group/caravan/car etc.
Pluto: This is not a bright man, he is not entirely sure what he wants in a partner just knows he wants one because others want one. Will just copy was Lizard says but what would be best for him is a partner who looks after him and just makes him feel happy and good inside. A bit of a parental partner (sadly) one who will lead him, take care of him, etc; as he needs guidance and someone to care for him, it would be better if the partner did not take advantage of that but chances are he will get someone who will.
Would meet similar through how Lizard would meet theirs, from them attacking this person.
Goggle: He definitely wants someone who is free spirited, fun and hopefully, kindness is what he seeks and desires, though he's got a sickening morbid mind at times where he has killed before, Goggle is more open and willing to interact in a friendly manner to outsiders. As hesitant as he would be, being taken away from the desert and into a new life sounds like a dream to the man, he desires the attention and love, so finding someone whose willing to look past his features and odd personality is what he definitely would want.
How'd they meet is a mix bag of situations, possible he spied a group camping and decided they seemed cool enough to approach, lucky him they were.
Big Brain: He wants someone to have power over, to control. Though he isn't interested in someone whose a push over and submissively stupid as Pluto, he wants them to be loyal and obedient enough to listen to him and help the clan do their missions. He may also seem bitter and nasty, he does want someone who'll look past that of him and see the man he truly is, to kiss him gently and touch his body. But they better expect cruel, snappy words in the process as he would have little trust and extremely low self confidence.
They'd most likely meet if the person makes it far enough to even meet him, as Big Brain can't go anywhere.
Cyst: He definitely wants someone who'll stick by his side, who won't get charmed by Lizards disgusting flirty words and have a stern hand to Pluto's grabby mittens. He isn't as insecure as Big Brain, much smarter than Pluto so he has no issue in thinking he can't get someone if he truly pursued. Wants someone to be more homely and helpful, to pull their weight in caring for the clan and the family.
Would most likely meet through his more solo hunts or body collecting.
Jupiter: Ew, why would you want him 😂🤢 Either way, Jupiter is a gross old man with a funky little parasitic chest twin that may or may not still be alive. The type to kill men and kidnap women for his own sick, twisted pleasures, he doesn't take on spouses exactly, if Ma even counts as a spouse, but if someone wanted to risk that they better be either as twisted and wild or just hate themselves.
How they'd meet is from the clan attacking them, like most chances of anyone meeting these funky kinda-cannibal desert rats.
#i gotta get these done#im just slacking now#thhe#The Hills Have Eyes ask#The Hills Have Eyes Answer#THHE written prompt#these the remake hills have eyes folk cause i prefer them more than old 1977 onds
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The Courting Ways of Wolves (Part 2)
It’s back! Dumb boys in love! Also Grandpa Vesemir gets some feels and Geralt does some math. Part 1, (here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue
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Watching Winter at Kaer Morhen melt into early spring was always a beautiful process, but this year brought Geralt trepidation as well. Watching Ciri train had been wonderful, helping her learn the basics kept all the wolves on their toes, for the first time in many years actually thinking about motions that normally came from muscle memory.
Yennefer had flourished into her role as “Aunty Yen,” not sweetly nurturing, the way one often thought about with children, but a clever tongue and tough love that Ciri, granddaughter of the Lioness, seemed completely at home with.
Geralt was doing his best too. Ciri had started calling him dad about halfway through the winter, the first time happening at dinner and he’d very nearly choked on his ale. It sent something warm running through his veins every time, like good brandy that burned all the way down.
He was trying, words still didn’t come naturally, but somehow Ciri always seemed to be able to see exactly what he meant. Maybe it was Destiny, maybe just a hurt, lost child clinging to whoever was consistent in her life, but Geralt hoped it was more. More than anything, he hoped Ciri truly understood how cared for she was, not just by himself, but all the wolves, Jaskier, and Yennefer.
Ciri had whispered to him one day, still panting after training, asking if he thought Yen would mind if she called her mom.
Geralt had replied that he didn’t think Yennefer would mind at all.
Yennefer came to him later, a tender look in her eyes. There was something, not fragile in her eyes, but Jaskier had pointed out in a marketplace once, a beautiful porcelain vase that had been broken and artfully repaired with gold. Yen’s expression reminded him of that.
They sat for a while, then Yennefer said, “Will you be able to let go of her in the spring?”
“Yes,” Geralt said, although he was less than sure that parting from Ciri would be so easy. “She needs you, and time away from me. And to be around women.”
Yennefer nodded, gave Geralt a pat on the shoulder, and left. Geralt stayed, cloak wrapped around him as he sat looking out over the walls.
There was much that would happen in the spring, and his life, which had been pretty stagnant before, was changing more in these past few years than it ever had. He felt like Kaer Morhen itself, built to last and yet crumbling still, the weight of change and time and destiny tearing down walls.
He watched the sun go down.
Vesemir joined him, carrying two bowls of stew. Geralt took a bite of his and winced. It had been Eskel’s turn to cook. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vesemir’s mustache twitch with a hint of a smile. They ate the oversalted meal in silence.
“You know,” Vesemir said, and in the starlight the crags on his face looked carved in. “I come up here to think too.”
Geralt knew, but Vesemir wasn’t interested in talking about the battlements, he could tell.
“I think, most nights, about the ghosts within these walls. All of the little boys who died so that the School of the Wolf could be.” The wind picked up, howling like, with an excellent sense of the dramatic, a wolf.
“The Trials haunt me, Geralt. More than anything in my life, and it has been a long life indeed.”
“You saved me,” Geralt said. “Saved Eskel.” But he too remembered the still bodies carried out and buried in the night. How few boys remained. Remembered the screaming in the night, unsure how much of the sound was torn from his own throat, and what came from his brothers dying around him.
“I let them put you through it twice. That wasn’t salvation, lad.” Vesemir sighed. “I couldn’t have put a stop to the Trials, don’t know if I would have if it were possible, there have to be Trials to be witchers, and the world needs us, whatever it may believe. But maybe there was a better way. A kinder way. You were boys, little lads who went through so much pain.”
Geralt was startled to see a tear fall down the craggy face, burying in the moustache. Witchers could cry, but it happened rarely, tears could blur vision in a fight, and only very strong emotion, the sort they had been taught to suppress, could override the mutations.
And then Vesemir put an arm around Geralt’s shoulder and gave him an oddly nice hug. It could have cracked a boulder.
“Someone should have held you boys more,” Vesemir said, a touch abashedly. They looked out over the walls some more and Geralt wondered if the conversation was over, but Vesemir didn’t take the arm away.
“Ciri called me Grandpa today.”
Ah. That would explain a lot. Watching Vesemir interact with Ciri over the winter had been a delight and a surprise to the wolves. He’d even sat her on his knee and told her stories of when Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt were young like a, well, like a doting grandfather. Jaskier had been enthralled as well, naturally, but seeing Vesemir so soft, and sometimes looking a little sad, around Ciri, had been an education for the men who would always think of themselves as ‘Vesemir’s Little Lads’.
“She won’t be a witcher,” Vesemir said. “Couldn’t be even if we would want it, and I never would.”
“No,” Geralt said.
No,” agreed Vesemir. They looked out over the darkened landscape.
“I never wanted a family,” Vesemir said after a while where their breaths hung in the air before them. “‘O course, witchers aren’t supposed to, but you’ve built a nice little family for yourself, laddie. It’s not as may be, not like you’d find in villages or in your pet bard’s fancy songs. But you’ve a brave and rather headstrong daughter, and she has a mum, and a dad, and two already very protective uncles.”
“And a grandpa,” Geralt cut in.
“And a grandpa,” Vesemir agreed. “But a family needs a little more than that. There’s gotta be someone to teach the lass how to love.”
Geralt was about to protest that he’d seen plenty of loveless marriages, but then considered the results in the children. Jaskier was one, he knew. The sort of lost way Jaskier sucked up approval, when they’d first met, the way he’d drank up compliments like a man with water in the desert, whenever Geralt thought on it there was a sort of humming ache. He’d consulted with Eskel on the feeling, concerned it was illness. Apparently, it was just what happened when someone you loved was hurting and it wasn’t something you could kill or fix.
“It doesn’t need to be romantic love,” Vesemir said, obviously seeing Geralt’s face. “And she’ll know how to love family fine, and how to love friends, as you and Yennefer figure that out between the two of you. But your bard loves you, and the way you love him can teach her how to love others and herself. And if Ciri has another dad maybe you can worry less.”
Geralt chuckled. Ciri could have fifty parents, and Geralt would still lose sleep worrying. Vesemir smiled back at him, eyes crinkling and moustache lifting like a bristle brush that had learned to fly. Then he slapped Geralt on the back, and Geralt, the White Wolf of Rivia, Butcher of Blaviken, the witcher who had twice survived the Trials, felt his spine compress like a spring and he was sure he felt a rib creak.
“Love Jaskier, lad. Hold tight to him. We rarely get good things.”
Then Vesemir walked back inside and Geralt stared after him. There weren’t many old witchers, dangers of the job and all that, but Vesemir was proof that witchers, like oak wood, only solidified with age.
Geralt followed him inside.
The next days passed in a flurry of activity. Ciri had been let off of training with the wolves to pack for her journey with Yennefer, and to be quickly given the rundown of the basics of magic. The wolves were packing as well, preparing to leave Kaer Morhen. In between final preparations and weapon repair, Geralt checked over The List.
The List was supposed to help him court Jaskier. It was the combined brainchild of everyone (except Jaskier, of course) at Kaer Morhen. More importantly, his intention to court Jaskier met with Ciri’s approval.
When the day arrived, Geralt felt a curious lump in his throat. He watched Ciri say goodbye to Eskel and Lambert, the latter picking her up and swinging her in an arc, letting her joyful whoop echo about the courtyard. Then she hugged Vesemir, and he crushed her very gently to him. And then she turned to him and Jaskier.
He was thankful that Ciri bade Jaskier goodbye first, watching the bard wipe a surupticious tear away as he held the blonde girl. It was Geralt’s turn and he didn’t know what to do. He cleared his throat.
“Follow Yennefer’s instructions,” he said. That didn’t seem like enough. “And don’t talk to strangers,” he said. It still seemed insufficient but he was out of advice so he stuck out his hand to shake. Ciri laughed and leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck.
He held her there, reveling in hugging his daughter, his child surprise, who was so full of surprises and he felt, for the first time in many years, the feeling of rather full tear ducts. He blinked them away.
“Good luck,” Ciri whispered in his ear. Jaskier wouldn’t have heard, but the witchers with their enhanced hearing surely had. Geralt nodded and set her down.
He coughed awkwardly and pulled out a little packet wrapped in burlap and some rough twine. Ciri beamed and pulled at the string so that the packaging fell away. A long piece of metal, bent into a thin U shape lay in his palm, the ends were surprisingly sharp. Ciri picked it up and examined it, then looked up at him questioningly.
“Hair pin,” Geralt said gruffly. “For your hair. And stabbing.” He mimed a clumsy, underhanded stab. “Eskel helped me silver plate it. For monsters. But also men, if they’re close enough.” He trailed off, knowing he sounded awkward. Who gave a self defense implement as a gift?
Ciri beamed at him again. “I love it,” she said, also miming a few stabs. He supposed that as a parent he shouldn’t be so proud of the light in his daughter’s eyes when she talked about stabbing, but he was almost certain that she got that trait from Jaskier, who tended to get...pointed about disagreements in pubs.
Yennefer stepped forward and carefully took the hair pin from their daughter, swooping her silver blonde hair back into a twist and sliding it in place. She placed a hand on Ciri’s shoulder and smiled at Geralt, and he was reminded again of that vase, stronger and more beautiful for the cracks in the facade. She then gave him a quick side hug and and even one for Jaskier, and opened a portal.
Geralt stared after his friend and his daughter long after the portal closed, until Jaskier, hand wrapped in a heavy mitten, gently took his wrist. They waved to the other wolves, and left, Roach walking obediently alongside.
And then it was just the two of them. Again. Just like the last twenty years. That thought occupied him as they made it down the Killer. The path down from Kaer Morhen was deadly, but that year Geralt made it down without thinking, keeping half a thought to Jaskier’s ambling form as he went.
How old was Jaskier?
He’d been eighteen or so when they met. Eighteen plus twenty-two was forty. Forty wasn’t that old for a human but Jaskier didn’t look too much different than he had at...Geralt did the math. Twenty-five? But there were signs. A few lines here and there, although Jaskier was insistent about his skincare. A line of silver, just a few hairs, probably unnoticable except to Geralt’s enhanced eyes. He was aging better than a human should.
Or perhaps not. Time was tricky for witchers, never staying in one place, never knowing people long enough to watch them age, he didn’t really know what to compare Jaskier to.
He did know how long humans lived though. And at the base of the mountain he came to a resolution, felt it settle in to his bones as deep as his mutations, deeper, even.
Twenty years, or nearly, where he hadn’t known Jaskier. Twenty more where he hadn’t admitted they were friends, or that he loved him. Eighty years in a human life span. And Geralt would love Jaskier, and make sure he knew he was loved, for the next four decades, give or take. He looked at his companion, paused as they were to give their feet and Roach a rest. The weak, watery sun of the early spring day fell on Jaskier’s face, dappled through the branches, which as of yet held no buds.
He pictured lines appearing, laugh lines, smile lines, crinkles carving themselves into the landscape of the familiar features. He pictured silver through the hair, more, in thicker streaks at the temples. Geralt saw a lifetime, Jaskier’s lifetime, in an instant. Silver covered warm brown, strong legs grew shakey, lines crowned a forehead and swept about clear eyes.
What would happen, Geralt thought, when Jaskier could no longer keep up? But Geralt knew what would happen. He’d take Jaskier to Kaer Morhen, or go with him to Oxenfurt, and spend his days with him. It had been a few short months since he’d realized he was in love with Jaskier, but that was only because Geralt’s skill with emotions was roughly similar to Jaskier’s apparent self preservation. Why had he let the lad talk to him in a pub? Had he loved him then? He remembered the shock of not being feared, of looking into clear, bright eyes and seeing admiration, the fierce protectiveness that had flared when he woke and saw the fool tied to him in an elven lair. Had it been love?
Watching Jaskier whisper softly to Roach as snow melted around him, Geralt was sure it had been. Destiny, Fate, the two bit tart who kept fucking him over, had given him his greatest blessing in a form that Geralt, up until that very second had considered a myth. Love at first sight. Love had brought him Jaskier, and Ciri, and a fast friendship with the most powerful mage on the Continent. Love had brought him a family in the form of a wayward bard with bread in his pants. And Geralt had forty more years to cherish him.
Step One the list had said in Eskel’s clear writing. Kiss his hand. Being mindful of Step Two, to mind his manners, Geralt crossed the clearing to Jaskier and took the thick woolen mitten in his gloved hand.
“May I?” he said. Jaskier gave him a baffled look, but nodded.
Geralt pressed chapped lips to a palm wrapped in knitted wool, and Jaskier smiled, albeit a little confusedly. It didn’t matter. Geralt wanted to spend the next forty years wrapped in that smile.
Then Jaskier asked him if he was feeling well.
#its a lot#tons of feels#did i shed a tear writing this?#no these falsies dont put up with water#but it was a close thing#grandpa vesemir#good mom yennefer#lowkey buffskier but not yet#geraskier#dyslexic Geralt#he's doing his best but emotions are hard
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make up lies and say goodbyes and meet me at the door // J.P. (celebration fic)
Request: James, secret relationship, angst 13, fluff 8. The burrow? Idk u can pick. But please let it have a happy ending 🥺. I’m fragile 😂 - @leahstypewriter
Angst 13: “All I wanted was a happy ending.”
Fluff 8: “Marry me?”
A/N: Title is from Emily Kinney - Married (I also use a lyric in this). I think I need to google the definition of ‘blurb’ because I keep writing fics and they just get longer and longer! This is my first time writing for James with anything longer than a headcanon so I’m not wholly confident on this piece - however, I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none - FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF.
Word count: 1.8k
Spring time at the Burrow is a sight that one cannot experience simply on their first visit. It takes a few visits to the home of the Weasley family for it to truly settle in that the home is a home. The christening of the entire Weasley brood was something to witness that once could only witness once; Molly Weasley controlling her children with an expert hand as they all lined up in the church. It was a lovely ceremony to see.
James sat by your side through it all; so close you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. All through the service, you had to restrain yourself from straddling the man in a place of worship. It wouldn’t be good for the vicar, and it wouldn’t good for the fact that you hadn’t gone public yet.
Returning to the Burrow, a marquee had been put up for party-goers. Following the rest of the guests, you find the long dark hair marking Sirius, and make a note of which table he sits down at. You make your way to the buffet table; grabbing a plate and whatever food you can. You only feel more ravenous at the sight of it; barely having time this morning to eat as with each attempt to leave the bed, James only pulled you back down.
You don’t have to see James to know that it’s him standing next to you. The charged atmosphere between the two of you is what alerts you to his presence.
A slight brush of his fingers against yours as he reaches for a plate of food. A slight brush of his fingers and it’s enough for you to crave all of his attention. He quirks his eyebrow at your obvious intake of breath; he knows what he does to you and he enjoys winding you up the best he can.
You take a seat next to Sirius; ignoring the way James sends a pointed look in your direction. Sirius immediately draws you into conversation with him and Remus, laughing over the rim of his drink. Sirius takes it upon himself to point out the members of the Weasley family stemming from the House of Black – he points towards Arthur’s mother, Cedrella and introduces her as his great-aunt somewhere along the lines of three or four times removed. You snort at Sirius’ lack of accuracy to which he points out that for the last few years, he had been living with James until he got his own place.
Shaking your head, you turn away from Sirius, careful not to catch eyes with James for the fear of not being able to control yourself once again. Your eyes dance around the marquee; happy to have been invited to such an event – an added extra by Sirius who didn’t want to face the extended and disowned side of his family alone.
Your eyes continue to travel around the marquee; taking in the decorations lovingly made by the Weasley children as well as the children themselves. The five young boys seemed to be running amok – their laughter filling the air as they race each around the tent. You can’t help but smile at the sight; each boy looking so happy.
It wasn’t something you realised you yearned for. A family. But watching Molly chase after her children with the largest smile on her face; watching Arthur lift young George onto his shoulders, you realise that you yearned for it all.
The wedding, the house, the family. Everything. You longed for it all to be with James; you felt silly for wanting this so early in your relationship, but just by being in his very presence it was hard not to want to spend an eternity with him.
All day it had been hard to find a moment for yourselves even when the party had moved from the marquee to the house; wanting nothing more than to spend a few minutes alone with James, but each time you got close, you were pulled in another direction by a child or by one of Sirius’ relatives to meet another aunt or uncle.
It was draining.
Keeping your relationship secret was a mutual decision; especially in the early months – the relationship was barely three months old; you were still in the process of getting to know one another romantically and work out how well you clicked together. The long friendship beforehand definitely helped, but keeping James to yourself was something you needed to do.
The atmosphere in the house becomes stifling the more you think about your relationship. You stand from your seat, sending a small smile in James’ direction when he looks over to you with a puzzled expression on his face. Your smile does nothing to calm the concern he feels as he watches you walk out the door, wondering what caused this change.
The evening air is warm when you step outside to catch your breath. Sitting down on one of the many benches, you take in gulps of the fresh air.
“Love?” James’ voice sounds. He takes a tentative seat next to you on the bench, carefully placing his hand between the two of you – knowing he cannot reach out to take you in his arms but wanting you to know that he would if he could.
“I’ve never seen somewhere so beautiful,” You murmur absentmindedly; eyes pouring over the horizon of the slowly setting sun.
James hums in agreement, “It is lovely here.”
You don’t reply. You aren’t entirely sure what else to say to him; instead, you keep your focus on the horizon – the sun setting, the bright and sweet smelling flowers, the beginnings of a vegetable patch. It’s a little slice of heaven, you realise.
“Do you want to talk about earlier?” James prompts. Keeping your secret from everyone was not the endgame, but the both of you simply desired some time to yourselves – to learn each other, to get used to each other, to selfishly love each other before letting other people interfere.
“All I wanted was a happy ending, James. I’m finding hard to keep us a secret when I’m so desperate for a happy ending.”
He grips your hands with such ferocity you’re worried he’ll break the bones, “Then let’s have a happy ending.”
“What do you mean?”
“Marry me?”
The breath leaves your body in one huff, “What?”
“Marry me.”
“James, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s only been a few months.”
“And? I’m certain of this and I’m certain of you. Would you marry me and always be mine?”
You bite your lip; thinking of every outcome that could fall from your marrying James. There could be no denying your feelings for the man; they were something you had felt for over a year until he asked you out to dinner. The yearning you felt earlier was back; churning in your gut as begin to think of a future with James as your husband through sickness and health, till death do you part.
You smile widely at James, “Let’s make our excuses and go.”
“Why?”
“I want to marry you James Potter, and I want to marry you now.”
James’ eyes glisten with unshed tears at your words, and he rushes off to find the lads and the Weasley’s to thank them for the offer of staying, but you both really must rush off as you have an early start at work, and he has an early morning meeting that he cannot miss.
Sirius furrows his brows at James’ words but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he turns to you with nothing but curiosity burning in his gaze. You smile softly at the man who had become something akin to a brother through your time with the marauders; through your time with James.
“Do you want us to set up a floo?” Molly asks kindly, bouncing a half asleep Fred on her lap.
You shake your head, “We’ll apparate back, we don’t mind. It saves on powder then.”
Molly nods; smiling at the two of you.
You say your goodbyes to the rest of the Marauders; they comment that they’ll see you tomorrow. You hold out your hand to James; he takes it and in less than a second, you’ve left the Burrow.
---------
James runs down the steps of the town hall; puffing slightly from how many there are, “It’s closed. We have to come back tomorrow for a license.”
“I get that, but why do you look so sad?”
James laughs, tugging you to him, “I really wanted to marry you tonight.”
Your thumb rubs across his cheek, “We still can, love.”
“How?”
“Well are the two of us present? We can do the official paperwork and aisle walking another day, but we can always say our vows to one another right now.”
“Right now?”
“Right now,” You confirm, “What do you think? Do you still want to marry me?”
“There’s nothing I want more.”
Underneath the now twinkling stars, vows are whispered, and make-do rings are created from some twine found in James’ pocket. Underneath the night sky, you pull him for your first kiss as husband and wife – the both of you making it difficult from the smiles on your faces.
It isn’t official – far from it. There are no witnesses; no minister. Only you, James, and the stars. But it’s perfect.
“When do we tell the lads? When do we tell our parents?”
“We’ll call them with our news in the morning, but for now…” You trail off with a sly smile.
“For now?”
“You’re all mine.”
-----
You wake up in James’ arms to the sound of crashing in your kitchen and the tell-tale swearing of Sirius Black. “James,” You groan, “Your friends are in the kitchen.”
James yawns, “I know. They woke me too.”
You sigh, opening your eyes, “Do we go down together?”
He nods, “Why not? They’re going to find out anyway.”
You stretch, “I like the sound of that.”
James smiles sleepily, “You know what I like the sound of?”
“What?”
“Kissing my wife good morning.”
You laugh; happily obliging the wish of your husband.
Yawning, you follow James downstairs where you meet Remus, Sirius and Peter clattering about in the kitchen, making a racket as they try to make some breakfast. They each call out their own greeting; their eyes not missing the way you came downstairs together.
“Where did you two rush off to last night?” Sirius asks; a smirk on his face.
“We got married,” James states clearly; leaving no room for any misunderstanding.
Remus chokes on his drink; Sirius drops his mug of tea; Peter silently moves the frying pan off the hob to save the food from burning.
“You did what?” Sirius all but yells.
James reaches for your hand, “We didn’t get married, married. But we will be doing today.”
Sirius remains speechless; eyes flitting between you, James and your joined hands, “When did you get together?”
You look at James, “Almost three months ago.”
“And you didn’t tell us then?”
You shrug, “We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while.”
Remus nods, “ I get that, but getting married so soon? Are you sure?”
The both of you nod; only looking at each other, “We’re sure.”
Sirius claps his hands together, calling the room’s attention to him, “Then we better get ready.”
********
General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @nerdyatheletic
#james potter x reader#james potter#james potter reader insert#james potter imagine#james potter oneshot#james x reader#secret relationship#secret relationship au#james potter fluff#fluff#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#cute#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#x reader#reader insert
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Fanfic Writer 20 Questions!
tagged by @misscrazyfangirl321 thank u :))
1. how many works do you have on ao3?
48 in total! 46 for batb lol
2. what’s your total ao3 word count?
115,935 !!!
3. how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
okay i mean, technically i have three on ao3. i wrote ONE fic for law & order svu and it’s an entirely irrelevant fic now because what i wrote about HAPPENED. but people still read it every now and then so i just leave it up. and i also wrote an epilogue fic for the netflix film juanita. i’m not in that fandom cuz that fandom doesn’t really exist but i watched the movie for a film class and i literally turned that fic in as my project for it (yes i got 100% yes go read the fic). so pretty much all i write for is beauty and the beast 2017, my beloved :)
4. what are your top five fics by kudos?
1. his perfect reality
2. after the kiss
3. sunrise, anew
4. sleepless nights
5. do me the honor
all batb 2017, and i think those are also my most read fics just in different order, so this checks out!
5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?
i do! i always try and say thanks and show my appreciation for my readers cuz yeah i’m writing for me but gosh we love the feedback, lads
6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
fading memories is your dream, for SURE. 99% of my fics end in a very happy and fluffy way. the only ones that end angsty are my young adam fics, and that one is the Big Boy Prequal Fic that ends in a perfectly tragic way that should lead you right to the beginning of batb 2017. it’s all angst, man.
7. do you write crossovers?
no but i’m not against them! i think they can be fun :) emily and i have an ongoing crossover universe but we’ve never written any fics it just exists through our insane texts and incorrect quotes sjdksj
8. have you ever received hate on a fic?
thankfully, no! the batb readers are all very kind and sweet!! (or at least the ones who read my fics lol)
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
nope nope the furthest i’ll go is making out and even then i’m not graphic or detailed at all
10. have you ever had a fic stolen?
no not that i’m aware of 👀 is someone out there stealing my domestic fluff???
11. have you ever had a fic translated?
again not that i’m aware of but i would be so honored
12. have you ever co-written a fic before?
well no not besides me and @ilikebigassbuttsandicannotlie’s crossover universe but it’s not exactly in fic form. and i collab’d with @drawnby27emilys but i did the writing and she did the illustrating, we stuck to our strong suits, lol.
13. what’s your all-time favorite ship?
adam and belle from beauty and the beast 2017 are quite nearly the only ship i have paid any attention to in the last 4 years!!
14. whats a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
hmmm. maybe i’m just optimistic but i feel like i’ll get to everything eventually. there’s one really long fic that i’ve written so many bits and pieces of but never just sat down and written it. mostly for technical plot reasons that i just don’t spend enough time trying to work out. OH! there’s that fic idea i got from that dream i had where it was modern au and adam had a little sister. SHOOT bro i do wanna write that. i wrote so much dialogue for it that next day but the wip itself is hardly anything :(
15. what are your writing strengths?
setting the scene and just painting the picture really nicely so you can see everything clearly. little details that make you feel like you’re watching it. i don’t know, character blocking? i think about what they’re doing a lot, with their hands or where they’re looking or whatever. also i think i’m pretty good at dialogue but that’s just cuz adam and belle are in my head all day long so i know their voices very well
16. what are your writing weaknesses?
conflict for sure. i’m too much of a fluffy writer!! i don’t like writing arguments or them getting mad at each other unless it’s stupid domestic stuff then it’s funny. i’m really good at writing the reconciling/making up lol but i seriously need to work on creating conflict. i just get too attached and i don’t like to see them fight even though i know everyone does and it’s a part of building the relationship >:( and even if it’s not adam and belle i just need to be better at writing it in general, for my oc’s and such. do it for the kids, lyd!
17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?
it’s very cool in the correct context!! i can’t do it really but hell yeah!! obviously with batb being in france i sometimes use french terms of endearment, mostly for lumiere lmao, but that’s about all i’m capable of! in my recent kiddos fic i tried out some familial titles like pépère for grandpa maurice and tata & oncle for auntie plumette and uncle lumiere <3 that was fun!
18. what was the first fandom you ever wrote for?
bbc sherlock babeyyyy. i used to hand-write sherlock childhood fic in a journal??? i didn’t even know what fic was i just liked giving him a backstory haha. i did the same for loki but in my phone notes app. i’m nothing in not a sucker for the sad and innocent childhood backstories of very sad men apparently!
19. what’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?
oh man this is so hard. i’m proud of a lot of my work! majesty of a different breed comes to mind honestly. it’s one of my longer ones and i just truly love how it turned out. i think my descriptors are so good and i capture adam and belle’s dynamic as a newly married couple really well, i think. and i give them a dog! how can you not have a good time reading that fic!
honorable mentions to easy to remember, harder to move on — my maurice memories fic that i also really love. AND fading memories is your dream! my longest work and gosh, i really do love the tragic backstories bro!!! big proud of both of those too :)
(and this one cuz it’s too soft and i’ll never not love seeing my otp be the sweetest parents ever)
20. who do you tag?
if you’re a writer and you wanna do this you can totally say i tagged you!! but i’ll tag some writers off the top of my head! @leighswhannell @ilikebigassbuttsandicannotlie @lumiereswig @myfellowcandlesticks @thesadchicken @sweetfayetanner @tinydooms @trulyhopelessromantic @ceasarslegion
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Hello! I saw your post about your birthday, and I was just going to submit this so I don't forget! I would love a yandere NSFW alphabet for Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds, please. I absolutely love that boy. If you're not able to do that, it's totally fine! By the way, how are you doing right now? Just thought I should check in as well with everything going on right now. Thank you so much, and Happy Birthday!! 🖤🖤🖤
[Thank you so much for helping me celebrate! I hope this is everything you were looking for darling!]
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Spencer isn’t exactly experienced in the bedroom, but he is a genius who would want to make sure that he does everything right by you. So that means plenty of research on how to properly pleasure you and take care of you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Favorite part of his: His hands, the way they feel touching you sensually, to using his long fingers to bring you to orgasm over and over again. Also the sensation of gripping your hips as he thrusts into you with all of his might.
Favorite part of yours: Your hips, especially with remnants of a bruise from the tight grip he keeps on them while plunging into you as deep as he can. Or light nail marks left behind during a rougher session.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Inside of you is his clear favorite choice, while you might not exactly expect that from him. If you are uncomfortable with that he will compromise and cum on your stomach or chest.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Lowkey has a breeding kink, even though he is worried about passing on any mental illness to your potential children. Being with you makes that risk worth the price to him.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not very experienced, but is very good at reading people due to his job so he knows how to pleasure you better than anyone you have ever been with before. Not to mention is an exceptionally fast learner, listening to your feedback and taking it to heart every single time.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary because he loves holding you down and taking you, while being able to watch you fall apart. This is also because it helps him read your body language so he can adjust his technique if need be.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Spencer will likely be more serious most of the time, but that doesn’t mean that situations don’t happen where neither of you can help but laugh. It’s never perfect or easy to engage in the act of lovemaking.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Spencer keeps it trimmed, although sometimes he let’s it go for too long as it’s not something he constantly gives attention to. If it bothers you however he will make a conscious effort to maintain his landscaping for you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Spencer is very romantic in the moment, kissing you, complimenting you, and telling you how much he loves you. It’s never just about pleasure to him, it’s about that connection that you get during and after.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
When he was single he didn’t really think about it much, especially with his high pace job that kept him on the go most of the time. Now if he has to be away from you he can’t help himself, might even ask for nude photographs to be securely sent to him. (There is no way he will let that kind of thing get out)
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I mentioned a breeding kink but that isn’t the only kink our seemingly sweet innocent lad enjoys participating in. Another one he engages in is spanking, and possibly even a daddy kink underlying. Try calling him Daddy, see what happens. ;)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Mostly in the privacy of your bedroom, or hotel rooms depending on where he is that week. (If he keeps working, he will bring you with him everywhere. It would be a requirement, even if it breaks policy.)
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly, the most sensual moment to him is any time you touch his shoulder, even if it was absentmindedly. The soft gesture really gets him in the mood to worship your body, not to mention the ground you walk on. ;)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Nothing with intense pain, he has gone through enough in his life that he doesn’t want to cause harm to anyone else. Would try a little wax play, or the like if you wanted though, as long as it doesn’t really harm you in the end.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
At first he felt a little awkward when you would get down on your knees for him, or offer to give him a blowjob. However after reassuring him that you don’t mind doing it, he gets really into it when you do it for him. Ultimately he is a giver, so he will truly enjoy returning the favor, or just offering whenever the two of you have down time. SIT ON HIS FACE!
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Mostly slow and sensual, but after a really bad or rough day he will plow you into the mattress until you can’t go anymore. It’s a very therapeutic way for him to relieve the stress that his life is filled with on a daily basis.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Spencer usually wants to take his time with you, not being one for rushing. That’s not to say that he won’t be able to hold back from the thrill of taking you someplace while others around you have no idea what is about to happen.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
For the most part he would try most anything you asked him, unless it had a chance of affecting his job or reputation too negatively.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Definitely can go for a few rounds, but can’t exactly go all night like some can. That is not to say that you won’t finish multiple times before he is finished with you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Spencer will buy all the toys you want, knowing how they can seriously stimulate intimacy in the bedroom. Only the best however, and trust that he has looked up everything about what is on the market.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Doesn’t really do the teasing, but responses VERY well to being teased, or challenged in anyway.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Usual grunts and groans, will likely tell you multiple times how lucky he is to have you. Praising you intermittently, the words just falling from his tongue in the moment.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Wants to watch you masturbate with the toys he buys you, demanding a demonstration whenever a new one is purchased. Watching you use what he gets you really gets him off, and will even sometimes help you use it.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
I would say a bit above average on length, and average thickness.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Average sex drive, especially when he starts dating you. Before he didn’t really think about it all that much so it didn’t affect him as much.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Absolutely would not fall asleep until you are taken care of, even if he is exhausted beyond belief. You are his number one priority.
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Impromptu Ramblings about the NEO:TWEWY Demo
In case y'all weren't aware, I've been a pretty big fan of TWEWY for a couple years now, and with the sequel coming out next month, the excitement I feel for this game is greater than ever :)
I played the Demo for the first time yesterday, and following a couple views of some livestreams of others playing it, I felt like sharing my (very ramble-y) thoughts prior to the release of the full game.
This post WILL contain spoilers for both TWEWY and NEO:TWEWY, so if you want to avoid those from now on, please block the tags: #twewy spoilers, #ntwewy spoilers, #neo twewy spoilers, #ntwewy, and #neo twewy ^_^
Oh, and if you wanna keep up with any other posts I make about my experience with this game, please refer to the tag "kat plays neo twewy" :)
-First things first: I have not watched the Final Trailer and I don't plan on doing so to avoid spoilers, especially after the pre-release era of KH3 where a lot of the later trailers spoiled a lot of the endgame content. That being said, I've seen some minor screenshots from the final trailer including what many believe to be characters from the original TWEWY, namely Shiki and Joshua. That is all I know about the Final Trailer and I would very much like to remain as blind as possible going into NEO :)
-The very first cutscene was quite ominous in the sense that this game is likely going to be about "changing fate" (a recently common theme in Squeenix games, which I do appreciate), perhaps leading off from the end of A New Day in the OG and trying to stop an Inversion of Shibuya. Also worth noting that A New Day had similar aspects in which the main character experienced "future visions" of tragic events, although in A New Day these events were not able to be changed, while in NEO it seems like one of the main "powers" our protagonist has is specifically to rewrite these events and avoid a "bad ending." Very interesting indeed!
-I really like the revamped comic book style dialogue scenes, it's much more fluid and modern, which is an excellent direction for the series to take!
-I would love to have an actual PokemonGO knockoff of Final Fantasy creatures, please Squeenix that would be incredibleeeeee
-Also the LINE stickers??? Are so cute???
-I would just like to point out that Fret is an absolute treasure throughout this entire demo, he's hilarious and I will protect him with my life
-UHHHH don't like that Fret picked up some Reaper Pins just out of nowhere.....or the fact that they're apparently popular all over Shibuya.............did y'all not learn anything from the OG game or what lmao
-Okay so when I first got the "curry or ramen" scene and heard NPCs talking about the new curry place replacing the old ramen place I became IMMENSELY distressed that Ramen Don was totally cut from the game because....well, Ramen Don is a King okay?? But I'm glad to learn that no, he didn't fall off the face of the earth, he's still in business and he's the one opening the curry restaurant lolol. PHEW, crisis averted!
-.....I don't like the sudden appearance of a Wall Reaper and being able to read NPC thoughts. Wtf happened when they left the ramen place??? Are they playing the Game alive somehow?
-Okay so I have my own theories about this "Swallow" character and what they're up to but considering this is only the Demo and I still Have No Idea What's Happening, I'm just gonna say that I think Swallow intentionally led Rindo and Fret to the Crossing so they could join the Game. I mean, add in the fact that Swallow still communicates with Rindo during the Game and you've got yourself a suspicious character right there lol
-"Hey they're shooting off fireworks!" Fret honey that's not fireworks oof (see also: "*laughs* I'm in danger")
-WOOOOOO way to traumatize Rindo right off the bat like that LMAOO
-The visuals for the intro are VERY GOOD, the song is pretty decent until it gets all "screamo" (which I absolutely cannot stand sorry lol)
-Shoka is every Customer Service employee ever and I respect that
-Susukichi went from being "meh" to "WOW THIS GUY IS FUN" in the span of 10 seconds and I also respect that (he is also built like an Absolute Unit which is hilarious)
-The Wall Reapers (and just Reapers in general) seem.....way nicer and more helpful this time around?? Like in the OG the Wall Reapers were SO RUDE gfhjgjdfkhn and yeah I'm sure we'll get some like that but the juxtaposition of the first Wall Reaper in the OG compared to the first one in NEO is insane.
-The puzzles are quite a bit more entertaining this time around even if it's generally the same "fetch quest" formula lol
-"Rindo's Group" way to go Fret HFKJDGHSDFKJ mans really left the default name in there lmao
-OKAYOKAYOKAY so to those who aren't aware I am a MASSIVE SIMP for Sho Minamimoto, he's my absolute favorite and I think about him daily. HIS INTRODUCTION IS. INCREDIBLE. I LOVE IT SM.
-GOD hearing him actually SPEAK FULL SENTENCES is just SO SURREAL I love this sm
-Also the remix of his theme???? NEO TRANSFORMATION????? IT'S SO GOOD????????? It's like gone from a Boss Theme to a more triumphant sounding theme and I am HERE for it (every version of Transformation is just INCREDIBLE and getting a new one is even better)
-I Love Him, Your Honor
-Also idk how exactly but it's kinda weird seeing Sho in the OG vs NEO, cuz while he's mostly the same Insane Math-Obsessed Catboy, he's.....calmed down quite a bit?? Like OG made a whole point of how poorly he cooperates with others (not to mention just being completely unhinged and trying to kill everyone), whereas here in NEO he's......actually kinda working with others??? HELLO???? Sir what happened to you and Neku during those 3 years I would love to know all about it
-I guarantee you Sho is still probably scheming shite and will likely pull some total insane BS later down the road, and I am very much looking forward to that. Also, is he looking for a certain Pin or something??? Cuz he keeps talking about different Pins and even mentions "this is just another Psych Pin" like he's actively looking for a Pin to do something with. Maybe it also has to do with the "latent powers of Players" thing he mentioned as well??? What is this dude UP TO oml (also is he in contact with Neku at all?? they're both technically fugitives at this point right?? WHAT HAPPENED AFTER A NEW DAY I AM BEGGING YOU)
-I seems like Sho ALSO has an idea of what's going on in this specific game (even if he won't admit it straightforward). Per his quote "The game's 142,857. Factor it out," he's essentially saying, "This game is a neverending cyle, figure out how to get out of it" (or at least that's what I got from his "cyclic number" nonsense lolol)
-I do like how Sho mostly stays out of sight until he's needed for a battle or assisting with a mission, that's kind of on par with his whole "uncooperative" quirk from the OG, plus he might literally have to stay out of sight of other Reapers and Players considering he's likely breaking the rules of the Game (not surprising considering him and Neku broke practically every rule in the book during OG)
-The nicknames for Sho- I can't- They're so FUNNYYYY GFHJSDFKJ
-He goes from being called "Pi-Face" and "Tabooty" in OG to "Mr. Minami" and "M-Teezy" in NEO LMAOO
-(Wowee I just realized I've been mostly talking about Sho oopsies sorry y'all, this is what I meant by thinking about him almost daily he is THAT much of a fav of mine ghfkjsd)
-Okay RIP Fret and Rindo for not getting literally ANY explanation as to how the Game works OOF, that is kinda cringe that whoever gets the Pin earns points, not whoever erases the Noise (which like I understand but also URRRGGHHH I WANNA SEE THE SQUAD SUCCEED)
-"I should be going home now it's getting late" Oh you sweet summer child-
-Also love the mention of parents in this game???? KH you could learn a thing or two from TWEWY (poor Rindo's mom fhgjkdh)
-KUBO IS HILARIOUS I SUPPORT HIM AND HIS GROSS FACE (also thank you Final Trailer thumbnail for spoiling my suspicions about him very cool smh)
-Kaie is a LAD I also support him, go King type those funky texts I believe in you
-FRET PLS STOP SCANNING FHGJKSDHKJFGHFKJ he's like me when I scan in OG during Weeks 2 and 3 and see Taboo Noise coming after me ghfjdshfj
-Also Rindo can you stay off your phone for TWO SECONDS ik you're trying to figure things out but Fret is a jelly boi and I don't want him to be upset with you my guy
-Sho being an actual sorta mentor to the kiddos?? Who are you sir this is so unlike you ghfgskj what happened to the guy who tried shooting children in the face 8 times over LMAO (granted he's probably just using them but it's still nice to see him actually cooperating and sharing knowledge with the kiddos aaaaa)
-EYO EIJI OJI THE TIKTOK INFLUENCER IS BACK LMAO
-hgjkfshgkjf "we aren't glorifying capitalism on my watch" THATS SO FUNNY TO ME GFHJFSDGHJKS (also an all-orange ensemble is disgusting you deserve jail for one thousand years fkn Cheddar Goldfish Cheezit ass woman)
-WICKED TWISTERS NAME DROP EYOOO we love to see it
-gfhsgjf Poor Rindo embarassing himself for the sake of the Game that's incredible
-R e t u r n t o M O N K E. That is all.
-Dialogue during boss battles is HELLA cool i love that
-HHHHH THE KANON SCENE MADE ME A N G E R Y FRET STOP SIMPING MY GUY says the girl with a Literal Simp Encyclopedia and simps for pixels on a screen daily
-Can't wait to see the other Reapers :eyes emoji:
-CAN'T WAIT TO SEE NAGI MY BELOVED YEAHHHH WOOOOOO
AAAAND that's about it for the demo lolol, I absolutely CANNOT wait for next month, this game is gonna be INCREDIBLE holy hell
Prepare for more simping, more screaming, and more vibing from Yours Truly :) I fully intend on sharing more general thoughts like this on both Tumblr and Twitter so it's not just reblog-retweet-reblog-retweet with the occasional comment fhgskjd
If you wanna witness my insanity up close and personal I have a Square Enix Discord server called Sea Side Dreamers! You can look it up on Disboard, or you can add me on Discord @Katara0524#9244 for a direct link :) We have topics about Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, NieR, and ofc TWEWY (as well as other topics!), so if you want some good ol' chaos and chitchat, you're more than welcome to join!
#neo twewy#ntwewy#neo twewy spoilers#ntwewy spoilers#twewy#neo: the world ends with you#the world ends with you#twewy spoilers#twewy rindo#rindo kanade#twewy fret#tosai furesawa#twewy sho#sho minamimoto#long post#also shameless Discord plug lmaooo#kat plays neo twewy
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