#hello hi i am alive somehow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fuckmyskywalker · 2 months

Text

𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞! — 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

18+ smut, stripper!reader x dilf!anakin, age gap, lap dance, mutual masturbation, fem!reader/afab!reader | word count: 2.8k (not proofread).

Everyone say "thank you Anya".

After a nasty divorce, Anakin Skywalker wanted nothing to do with dates— let alone random hookups. Call him outdated or old-fashioned, but Anakin firmly believed in marriage. Maybe he just had bad luck. He has better things to worry about! His children, his company, his 850 credit card score, and… keeping up with his overly cheerful assistant.

Who somehow, managed to convince him to visit the best nightclub in town— and by nightclub, she meant strip club.

Standing outside the bright building, Anakin wondered how many neon signs were too much. He flickered his cigarette with his thumb, dialing his assistant’s number and watching the ashes fly with the wind, he just wished his hopes didn’t fly that easily. After a few rings, she picked up. “I’m here,” Anakin informed her, feeling as if he was about to start a super-secret mission and he was calling HQ. Lisseth is right, he stays too much at home watching cheesy, 90s TV shows. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Is it obnoxiously bright?” Lisseth asked from the other side of the line, and Anakin discerned the faint click of a lighter.

“Yes.”

“Then you’re in the right place.”

“Can you repeat why am I here again?” Anakin asked, rubbing his forehead and throwing the cigarette away.

“Because you are lonely, divorced, and old?” His assistant replied, presumably smoking as well.

“I should fire you.”

“But you won’t,” He didn’t have to see her to know she was smirking. Lisseth was right, she was one of the few people besides Obi-Wan Kenobi— his business partner— who dared to say things straight, and people like that were a nice change in a world where everyone fights for your favor. “Go inside, give it a chance. You deserve a change of scenery. I know you are the committed type. Give yourself a chance.”

Anakin hesitated again, just like he did when he agreed when the young woman texted him the address, and when he called the cab. He had no idea why she would suggest this place from the many—many strip clubs in the city, but he knew better than to question her. He looked around, it was not like he would care if someone recognized him— he just… didn’t want to be recognized. Big difference, or at least that was what Anakin kept repeating.

“Hello?” Lisseth said which brought Anakin back to his senses. He was overthinking it. How can you overthink walking into a strip club? Men do it all the time! “Are you alive?”

“I am.”

“Good. Now get inside, I think there’s an ATM next to the bathroom. I don’t remember— and dial me if you need anything, I’ll try to stay awake.”

Anakin hung up the call, taking a deep breath and pushing the black door open. Multiple times he had heard his associates talk about this place; how the drinks are great and the girls are better— which perhaps was a reason why Anakin was so reluctant. If a married man found this place appealing, he couldn’t imagine what it would have in storage for a divorced man.

Inside the club, the neon lights were far worse. His eyesight wasn’t bad but the dazzled effect was overwhelming. Anakin fought the urge to rub his eyes, he didn’t want to look that old— so he just brushed the wrinkles off his suit and approached the bar. The bartender eyed up curiously but simply greeted him. The place was crowded but it was somehow comfortable to navigate, he saw a few girls but he felt somewhat strange to stare at them for long. He wasn’t in his twenties anymore— he wasn’t able to see them as a piece of meat like he used to (last time he did he got his first and only wife knocked up). So he just thanked the bartender for his whiskey and took a long sip, hoping it would ease the knot in his stomach. He was a fast drinker, and he was halfway done with the glass when he heard a voice behind him and a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your hand on his shoulder was gentle, but Anakin was aware of the salacious undertone in your voice. It was all fake, part of your job. Looking over said shoulder, his blue eyes met your face, and probably for the first time in your life working in the strip club— you found yourself speechless. You have never seen eyes in such a shade of blue, so deep and so easily to lose yourself in. Your glossy lips went dry for a second and you weren’t sure if he felt the same.

“It is not,” He replied, grabbing your hand and guiding you to the empty stool next to him. His hand was strong and warm, too polite for a man who was here to watch women half naked. You took a seat next to him just like you intended but your demeanor switched, which was something that surprised you. The blonde stranger didn’t seem to notice it, he knows nothing about you. For the first time, that has worked in your favor. “The name’s Anakin.”

He let go of your hand and you found your finger twitching against your bare thigh. You gave him your stage name and he simply smiled back, bringing the glass up to his lips. You leaned closer, placing your trembling hand on his thigh and squeezing it softly, noticing how his eyes drifted down to your cleavage only to go back to your face. “What brings you here, handsome?” The usual repertory was filled with cheesy phrases, sweet talk, and 101 manipulations. Emptying a man’s wallet wasn’t a hard thing, or at least after months of practice it no longer seemed like a challenge.

“I assume the same as every man here,” Anakin replied, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. He was good, he must be an orator or something. Not everyone can stare into your eyes when your tits are literally out. “But being honest, a… friend of mine insisted.”

“Well, then you have a good friend,” You smiled, thanking whoever pushed him into your arms— even if you already knew the culprit. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Your fingers play with the hem of his white button-up, tapping your nails over the ironed fold.

“I have a few ideas,” He lowers his now empty glass, licking his lips. A simple act shouldn’t excite you but Oh it does. He looks like the type of guy who knows how to please a woman and the type of guy to rock your world…

Too bad that’s against the club’s guidelines.

“Such as?”

Anakin seemed to fall under your sultry voice, smirking and bringing his face closer to yours. You thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but he just whispered in your ear. “I’m sure you know what I want, and I’m sure you are tired of small talk. Do us a favor and tell me what I can and can’t do.”

This was the second time in the night you found yourself speechless. Normally you are the one being straightforward, so why is that handsomely old man doing your job? Unbeknownst to you, Anakin’s heart was racing inside his chest at light speed. It has been years since he last flirted with someone, let alone a stripper— so he felt quite rough around the edges. It seemed to be working, or at least you faked it really well. Anakin’s charm never faded, even if he wasn’t fully aware of it. His bright smile and those wrinkles around his eyes… he could easily be your dad, which shouldn’t be as hot as it sounded. You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, silky and smooth. God, there’s nothing hotter than a man that takes care of his appearance.

“Follow me then,” You manage to say through the loud heartbeat that drowns the loud music around you. You have done this countless times, but this was somewhat different. Why were you acting brand new? Get a damn grip. “You seem like a man who can afford our special treatment.”

Anakin chuckled, he never thought getting robbed would be so sexy. “Do I look special? Or do you say that to every guy?” He followed you anyway, surprisingly lacing your fingers together. His eyes never left yours, not even when other girls and dancers called for him.

“Believe it or not, you look special.”

As you guided him inside the farthest room in the hallway, you locked the door and kindly settled him on the large sofa against the wall. There was a bed in the center of the bed and a pole next to it, but mostly for decoration. Not everyone had the privilege to fuck, lucky ones got to touch— but Anakin looked like he could win the lottery. This time he eyed you up and down, relaxing over the velvety cushions and spreading his legs. You’ve seen men sit that way countless times yet the way he did it was abysmally distinct. He had an air around him that no one could match and it truly excited you. Time wasn’t really a problem in this room, and he looked like someone who could treat themselves. The treat is a lap dance, of course.

You picked the music, and that was the only thing that fitted into your routine. The top piece of your heels sank into the fluffy carpet as you made your way back to him, deliberately swaying your hips. Comfortably, you straddled his lap, lazily draping your arms over his shoulders. Anakin’s hands touched your hips and you were about to warn him about the rules… but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered, his voice already hoarse. How long has this man been pent up? Only God knows. You giggled and began grinding against him, running your hands up his shoulders and cupping his face. Anakin’s eyes left your breasts to meet yours, lidded eyes heavy with ecstasy that the erotic dance brought him. “So fucking beautiful…”

His presence was starting to be a problem, at least for you. You couldn’t look away or stop your hips from rolling over his growing erection. It was highly unprofessional, even for a stripper but you’ve done worse things— to uglier men. Anakin hissed when you fully sat on top of him, and the grip on your hips tightened. The song changed and neither of you was aware of it.

Returning your hands to his shoulders you used them as leverage to move, basically humping him without realizing it. You could lie and say this was part of the dance— but in reality, your body was moving on its own.

“Can I touch you?” Anakin requested, huffing and lifting his hips. His cock was aching but not fully hard yet. The right answer was to say no… so your hands reached for his and placed them over your chest. He sighed in clear contentment and cupped your tits, jiggling them softly and running his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you until they peeked underneath the sheer fabric of your lace bra.

The urge to thank him was very, very present. Words failed you as he lowered the cups of your bra, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his eager mouth. Instantly, you tugged on his curls, just noticing the silver strands. He groaned against your flesh, tugging on your sensitive bud with his teeth and guiding you with his free hand. The dance quickly turned into a session of dry humping— not that you had any complaints.

Anakin then cupped your center, rubbing his index finger through the thin thong and pushing it to the side. Everything was escalating too quickly and you needed to even it out— mostly to defend your pride— so you quickly unbuckled his belt, and Anakin didn’t even flinch. The tip of his finger ran through your folds and quickly found your clit, faster than any other man you’ve been with. You gasped, yanking his black boxers and biting your lip when you saw his cock. He was fully hard now and it looked like it fucking hurt. Above than average was your first thought, followed by the incessant desire to have him stretch you. From zero to a hundred, probably. Your hand looked tiny around his shaft, which sent a thrill of excitement down your spine. Anakin rolled his eyes and jerked his hips, silently asking for more. He circled your clit with practiced ease and that confirmed your suspicions— he is the type of man who knows what he’s doing and how to do it.

“Are you always this wet for your clients or am I really special?” Anakin taunted you as if he wasn’t the one paying for the fucking lap dance. To confirm his accusation— because yes, it was an accusation— he sank a finger inside you, curling it softly and rubbing your walls at a slow pace. “I’m starting to think you don’t do this for everyone.”

“I don’t,” You choke, panting and determined to not be left behind. You began jerking him up at the same speed he fingered you. “It takes two to tango, you know?”

Anakin laughed. He dared to laugh. God, this man… “You are feisty, I like that.”

The damned butterflies returned, this time fluttering around your stomach and your pussy. Anakin was good at this. He wasn’t the average pathetic man who couldn’t understand the touch of a woman, nor an ancient dinosaur that was cheating on his wife and shamelessly rocking their wedding band as they threw dollars to your feet. No, he was one in a million. He noticed your silence and took advantage of your blissful state, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside you. If you knew better you would’ve thought he was stretching you. Stepping up your game, you stroke his cock faster, bringing your free hand to your mouth to spit on it, using both hands to touch him.

That seemed to be a weak spot for him, and you actually heard him moan. It was a raw, guttural groan that made your pussy clench around his fingers. Looking down, you saw the wet, throbbing head, now glistening with your spit and the smeared precum. You could swear he looked thicker— or maybe it was your burning delirium for having him rearranging your guts.

He wasn’t one to back up from a clear challenge, so he rubbed his fingers against your G-spot repeatedly, pressing tight circles over the spongy spot. Your hips jerked just like he did moments prior and for the first time in a while, you moaned someone else’s name. Anakin seemed to be pleased by your reaction and continued it, exclusively stimulating that spot that built up the recognizable pressure in a matter of seconds.

“I’m gonna come,” You whimpered, closing your eyes. Anakin’s jaw clenched at the way your pussy sucked his fingers. Would you suck his cock with your velvety walls the same way? “Please, don’t stop.”

“Hold it,” He hissed but it wasn’t a request or anything. “I want to do it with you.”

You held your breath, flicking your wrist up and down, moaning repeatedly at the expertise of his touch. The knot in your lower stomach threatened to snap and holding it was borderline painful. The loud squelch of your cunt made the music surrounding you irrelevant, it was new music that was indeed expensive but— pornographically beautiful. Anakin hung his head back with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. His scent was intoxicating, the mixture of his— surely fucking expensive— cologne, aftershave, and salty sweat was drowning you in a needy mess. Dragging you down to his spell when it was supposed to be the other way around.

“Do it,” He urged you, repeating it over and over. His hard cock twitched in your hands repeatedly until he groaned loudly and his release crashed with yours. “Come for me— come on, princess.”

Your walls gushed around his fingers, coating them in your own arousal seconds before his cum landed on your hands and your thighs— some on his thighs too. You called his name again, this time in a high-pitched moan. Anakin continued until you were on the verge of tears from the overstimulation, absentmindedly jerking his cock again as it started to soften in your hands. Your sweaty bodies were a mess of combined fluids and… broken rules.

You were in so much trouble.

“See what special guests get?” You painted, finally retrieving his hands from his dick and fixing your bra. “You should be thankful.”

“Oh, believe me. I am,” Anakin purred, grabbing your hips and yanking you closer, finally pressing his lips against yours. “Hope you have a better treat for regular special guests.”

You really, really needed to thank homegirl for bringing him here.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#dilf!anakin #dilf!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x reader smut

698 notes · View notes

roosterr · 8 months

Text

white flag ✹ epilogue

note: im kinda sad to say, but this will be the final part of this series! im so so grateful for all the love and support for it, this was honestly so fun to write! i hope everyone enjoys and have a wonderful day/night!!!!<3<3<3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n

reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: your night in date with simon :)

warnings: domesticity, so much fluff, soap and gaz are wingmen again, tiny bit of light angst

ao3

【prev】

of all the things in this world that could be considered intimidating, flowers were the last thing simon would put on that list; but the brightly coloured flora seemed to have a paralysing effect on him as he stands in the tiny flower shop.

with a quiet, defeated groan to himself, he dials johnny's number and presses his phone to his ear.

"what flowers am i supposed to buy?" he blurts no sooner than soap picks up, not even bothering to greet him in his haste.

"hello to you too?" johnny mumbles, his confusion evident. a moment passes before he registers what simon asked, "oh! wait," he laughs, his voice getting further away as he lowers his phone to call out, "gaz, get out here! lt.'s buyin' sting flowers!"

simon considers hanging up then and there, but he's severely out of his depth and unfortunately, soap and gaz are his only hope.

"oh i see, he needs an expert opinion, does he?" kyle's teasing gets louder as he approaches soap, and he can hear the smile in both the sergeants' voices.

really, simon should've known they wouldn't let him off easy.

"christ alive…" he keeps his voice as low as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner of the small shop. "just help me, you pillock." the cashier has been staring at him since he walked in, and honestly, he doesn't blame them; a giant man in a mask isn't exactly the regular clientele for a florist.

"uh, probably their favourite?" soap suggests, the sound of gaz's muffled chuckling just about audible in the background.

"they don't have 'em." simon replies, his eyes darting over the vibrant display one last time in the hopes that the answer would somehow appear.

"nah, you want roses, mate." gaz interjects, and he hears soap make an agreeing noise.

simon hums. "aren't they too… cliché?" he asks, stepping over to the large display of rose bouquets. it's the classic choice, he's aware of that much, but whether or not you'd prefer something more unique was weighing on his mind. this was something he never expected to have to worry about.

"no! they're romantic," gaz insists, his amusement still very evident in his voice, "trust me mate, sting'll love them."

simon contemplates his point for a moment, staring at the deep red petals and trying to imagine the look on your face if he gave them to you. you'd been happy with a handful of squashed flowers he'd stolen from the flowerbeds on base, so he doubted you'd turn your nose up at them. it doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"alright, cheers." he mutters, grabbing a lively looking bouquet of a dozen from the display and making his way over to the cashier – who was quickly trying to pretend they hadn't been staring.

"you'll need to give us a debrief–" soap begins, but he's cut off by simon hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. he gets the feeling he won't be hearing the end of this for quite some time.

✹✹✹

it's only when he's standing outside the door to your room that the nerves finally start to set in. he can't help but feel like an idiot, fidgeting on the spot about to knock on your door like a lovestruck teenager, almost crushing the stems of the roses with his iron grip.

he knocks twice, before he has the chance to change his mind and back out. not even a second later, you're pulling the door open and regarding him with that warm look that has his palms sweating.

you're wearing casual clothes, and so is he, as per the agreement you made to keep this 'date' simple. it doesn't matter what you're wearing though; he's seen you covered head to toe in blood, sweat, mud, and whatever else, and you still manage to be utterly breathtaking in every way.

with a nervous cough, simon holds out the rose bouquet to you, hoping you don't notice the way his hands are shaking.

"wha…" you blink in surprise at the flowers, taking them from him and admiring them with a tiny smile. "you bought these, right? didn't just rip 'em out of someone's garden?" you raise a teasing eyebrow at him, your smile turning more playful.

"yes, i bought them." he grumbles lightheartedly, a smile of his own forming under his balaclava. the way you effortlessly diffuse the tension has his anxieties melting away.

"thank you." you breathe, softly caressing the vermillion petals. "they're lovely, i love them."

simon let's out a quiet sigh of relief at your affirmation. "good; cost me a tenner, they did."

the laugh you let out is like music to his ears. "well, i'm sorry to bankrupt you." you grin, turning back into your room and carefully putting the bouquet in the vase on the mantle. after making sure the arrangement looks nice, you come to stand in front of him again.

simon's not sure how to continue, the nerves from earlier resurfacing as the conversation fades. the way you're watching him expectantly, he feels the urge to take you by the hand – and as if you read his his mind, you hold it out for him. he places his hand in yours, squeezing gently and leading you the short distance to the kitchen.

he'd set the table earlier, having found an only slightly discoloured tablecloth buried in the back of the cupboards. it's a little sad, but it was the best he could come up with.

"wow," you tease, the same playful smile as before on your lips as you meet his eyes, "so fancy."

he snorts, ushering you over to your chair and pulling out for you. "only the best for your majesty." he preens at your happiness when you laugh again, glad for the mask covering what he's sure is an obvious blush.

he occupies himself by grabbing the two plates he'd finished preparing a minute ago, just before he'd met you at your door.

"i made spag bol." simon mutters as he sets them down on the table. he keeps an eye on your expression as he takes his seat opposite you, anticipation of whatever response you may have.

"fine by me," you say, an easy smile lifting your features. "it's almost the perfect candlelit dinner, all we're missing is the candle."

simon blinks. "you don't like candles." he replies, a hint of confusion in his gaze when he meets your eye.

"no," you smile fondly, looking down at your plate. "i don't."

a comfortable silence falls over the room as you both start to eat. the warmth and normality of it all makes simon’s heart swell with affection. he's happy, content, being here with you, even doing something as monotonous as eating dinner. you make it worth enjoying.

"how is it?" he asks once you've both finished, once again waiting apprehensively for your reaction.

"it's great," you give him a lopsided smile, resting your chin on your hand as you look at him. "thanks for cooking."

simon quirks an eyebrow at you. "you don't have to lie." he mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn under your intense gaze.

"okay, well, don't quit your day job." you chuckle, standing up and making your way over to the sink with your plate in your hands.

he huffs a small laugh, and joins you at the sink with his own plate. "you're crushin' my dreams here."

"sorry, chef." you grin and gesture to the washing up in the sink. "you wash, i'll dry?"

"if your majesty insists."

you turn on the radio for some quiet background noise, and the two of you start cleaning up in tandem. it's nice, how you can work together so seamlessly with no need for words. he's struck again by the thought that if he were alone this would be a chore, but with you beside him, he finds such a tedious job surprisingly pleasant.

simon hands the last dish to you, and as you take it your fingers brush against his hand. the way he flinches away from your touch is unconscious, and when he looks over to you he expects you to pity him, or be offended by his action – but your face holds neither of those things.

you're just drying the dish he handed you, the same content expression on your face that had been there all night, as if you didn't even notice.

"sorry." he mumbles, his gaze falling from your face to your hands as you work.

simon loves you. he shouldn't be afraid of your touch. he wants to touch you, and for you to touch him. he doesn't know why he reacted like that.

"don't be." you utter, soft and compassionate, and his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. for the third time that night, he's hit full force with how wonderful you are.

there's no judgement, no probing questions, nothing. you understood him, even though you had no idea why he acts this way.

you turn away, your back to him as you store the dishes in the cabinets. you hadn't been looking at him before, but now he was sure you couldn't see him, he feels his throat constrict with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

simon takes your free hand and you pause, still facing away as you wait for his next move.

he takes a small step closer, minimising the space between you, and rests his forehead against the back of your head. with his eyes screwed shut, he takes a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent of you. his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

you lean back into him, a quiet sigh escaping you as you squeeze his hand in return. neither of you say a word, but you don't have to. he feels how you love him in the way you never expect more from him than he can give.

it's the most peace he's felt in years.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness ,

@madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

900 notes · View notes

fan-goddess · 2 months

Note

hello!could you write a reaction to the dragon's house × !fem!reader, when she was flying over the sea with the dragon and one of the enemies was on the ship and shot from a crossbow.

(she and her dragon are alive but slightly injured)

Aegon,Aemond,Jacaerys Velaryon-romantic love

Alicent,Daemon,Rhaenyra,Helaena,Laenor Valeryon-platonic love

sorry if there are any mistakes! I hope everything is clear💝I've actually been thinking about this for a long time💥

HOTD characters reactions of when reader is hurt

The summary: The characters each find out during your usual flight around kingslanding that you were shot down by some people belonging to a certain group that hate the Targaryen traditions and believe it to be an abomination.

A/N: They’re all personalised and hopefully different backstories, but have given reader the same dragon in all of them as making dragons are hard. The wound is also pretty much same, but the severity is altered in some places. In the platonic ones I made reader call them mother or father, since I made them a parent. Some of these are very different as I expanded on some more and developed others. You can tell which.

This ain’t fully proofread we die like Luke!

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie

Warning: Wounds, various gore mentions, incest, kissing, tried to make it gender neutral and lack of descriptions but there are some scattered about! (if I miss any let me know)

Aegon Targaryen:

When Aegon heard the news from his mother who’d rushed to inform him of your sudden injury, he all but sprinted to the infirmary where you were being treated by one of the leading maesters.

“My love, are you alright?!? I am so sorry my love I should have insisted to accompany you! When I find the man who did this to you I shall rip off his head and feed his insides to Sunfyre and Shrykos!” He declares, the words tumbling quickly with how much rage flooded his body at the sight of your wounded self. You could barely keep up with him if you were being honest.

“Aegon, my sweet husband, it is fine! ‘Tis merely a flesh wound!” You insist, yet wincing as soon as the reassurance falls from your lips.

“And yet here you are heavily bleeding, and in very much pain! You should take some milk of the poppy!” Aegon says, looking around to find the bottle, even when you try and insist you were fine. “If you were fine you’d be with me, in our bed, safe and unharmed! So don’t argue with me wife or my wrath will be misguided!”

You merely humour him by sipping slightly at the small contents of the cup the maester had passed to you. Yet still, you can’t deny that the liquid had its desired effects, as your previously aching wound now significantly dulls down to a mere small throb once in a while.

“Now wife. Tell me who hurt you.” Aegon demands, his eyebrows furrowed and his grip tightened on your body as he insured you would be unable to get away from him.

“Just some idiotic men thinking themselves higher than us my love. They shot at me and Shrykos from their ship when we least expected it with bloody crossbones of all things, and somehow barely managed to skim us. Yet they somehow did not expect the very large dragon to get angry that their rider and themself was just attacked with no prior warning. Shrykos certainly made sure to enact on our lovely families motto. By the time she was done with them, there was nothing left but fire and blood sinking to the bottom of the sea.”

Aegons face slowly turns more and more relaxed, and by the end of your tale he’s practically grinning for joy as he kisses you deep on the lips. “That’s my bloodthirsty wife!” He mumbles against your lips, forgetting all about his past aggressions to make you feel as safe and as loved as you could be in his arms. The maester that continues to awkwardly stand their waiting to finish wrapping your arm be damned.

Aemond Targaryen:

He finds out before anyone else, as he tends to wait for you after your dragon rides if he’s unable to go with you that day. So when you come back later than usual with blood dripping down your arm and half an arrow sticking out of you, he certainly is very angry, and very much willing to get on Vhagar and hunt down and kill those who dared harm his wife. Yet he knows he must stay calm for you.

He notices how you try and mumble your dragons name under your breath, so when he makes it past one of the dragon keepers he makes sure to let them know that Shrykos may be in need of some healing. He assumes by the way your mumbles quieten after he says the order that that was what you were trying to tell him. Yet when he actually looks at you Aemond quickly realises you’ve actually fainted from blood loss.

Aemond rushes you to the Maesters room where he insists only the best work on you, even though he couldn’t afford to be picky what with you bleeding out in his arms and all. Though after a few threats and lot of claims regarding his dragon, the maesters quickly manage to remove the arrow and stem the bleeding whilst you continued to lay unconscious on the healing bed. Aemond stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand tightly in an act of reassurance. Even though you were still unconscious.

He stayed with you the entire time though. Still holding your hand even when he fell asleep. When you eventually woke, three days after you were injured, Aemond was sure to reassure you that you were safe. Even though by the tenth time you were very ready to smack him.

“Tell me ābrazȳrys who did this too you. Vhagar has been ready for the taste of flesh since I found you. I am sure Shrykos too is ready for the thrill of the chase of those who harmed both her and her rider. Tell me, so I can make sure we can tear them limb from limb.” His words drip malice, and yet there is distinct comfort within them. Aemond has never truly been able to show his affection towards you with displays of anything other than action. And in this moment, it just so happens that action involves heavy bloodshed and possible carnage.

“Those men who hale from the vale. The ones claiming our traditions to be an abomination. A sin in the eyes of the seven. They surprised me and Shrykos as we flew above the seas and got some good strikes. But don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon. Me and Shrykos made sure to burn them to blood and ash before we needed to flee back to kingslanding.” You attempt to smile to reassure your husband, but if anything it appears to make it worse as you wince at the pain suddenly flaring through your whole right arm.

Aemond stays quiet as he makes sure to force you to drink some milk of the poppy.

“Ābrazȳrys. If you were to die, I would have gone to the brink of insanity. I would’ve gone to those peoples homes and burned them all to the ground for what they have done to my wife. To the future mother of my children. They have harmed you though. The have scarred you. And for that offence alone, I cannot allow them a single more moments of breath. I cannot allow them to live.” Aemond storms off leaving you laying there in half shock and half admiration. You knew he would be true to his word. Which is why when not even a day had passed since Aemond had left, you’d heard whispers of what Aemond had done, and you smiled and thanked the gods for a husband like yours.

Jacaerys Velaryon:

If there was one characteristic you could say your husband embodied to the fullest, it would be loyalty. As no matter how many other women, maids and nobility alike, threw themselves at the future heirs feet he always ran back to you.

Even when other men such as the Lannister’s attempted to charm you with their admittedly horrible, yet according to them successful attempts, Jace was always there with a watchful eye, making sure all knew who you belonged too.

He was protective too. A dragon while not in appearance but definitely in spirit. Jace would always find a way to make sure you were safest whether you wanted him to be involved or not. Even this noon when you wanted to get one last dragon ride before dinner, Jace still insisted there was no need. Yet your stubbornness knew no bounds it seems, as while his back was turned you made quick speed to where Shrykos usually slept and flew her into the great distance. A mere speck in the sky before Jace knew what had happened.

You had started the flight laughing with the biggest grin on your face, eager to see the sights from the sky. Yet of course things turned worse as men from one of the many religious groups of the seven kingdoms took notice of you and your dragon, and decided to shoot you with their admittedly massive weapons.

You dodged the best you could, and yet with a scream from both you and Shrykos, you realised you were both hit.

“DRACARYS SHRYKOS! DRACARYS!” You screamed, satisfied when you hear the hells and the screams of the men and the ships bellow. With your good arm, you steer Shrykos to the direction of dragonstone and order the instructions, before all appears to go dark.

When you wake, all seems strangely normal. That is of course, before you see the giant bandaged wound that is your arm. You can see a hint of red peeking from the bandages and are about to see if you could rewrap it, before Jacaerys comes through and with wide eyes realises you are awake and well as you can be.

“My love!” He shouts, running over and encasing you in his arms. Not hearing the low hiss you make when his hands clasp around your still admittedly sore arm. “Where have you been!? You’re hurt!” He yells, finally taking noticing your blood that steadily pools to the surface. “Let us get you to the maesters!”

As much as it hurt you to have Jace pull you like he did, you merely let it all happen so not to cause an event bigger fuss of you than what he already is making. Yet when you get to the maesters chambers and nearly find yourself fainting, that’s when you suddenly understand your husbands worry.

When you wake up though, it’s the feeling of Jaces familiar warmth that settles you as you gaze on his sleeping form. Yet as you wake, so does he it seems. As not even a few minutes after you’ve woken Jace is quick to rise with you. His eyes wide and worried as they roam you for anymore possible injuries you may possibly somehow have hidden.

“Are you alright my love?!” He asks, his eyes still roaming for even a moment of weakness from you. “There maesters took care of your arm and the arrow. And I heard word from the dragon keepers who tell me Shrykos is healing dutifully from his wounds!”

“Good.” You simply say, hissing slightly as you sit up and try to keep yourself grounded. “I’d kill then if she wasn’t.”

Jacaerys laughs at your threat, and his face looks almost serene as he just looks at you. His eyes going soft as his hands continue to hold yours. It’d be an almost affectionate moment had it not been for the sudden flare up of pain in your arm.

“Fuck!” You yell, hissing once again as you’re reminded of why you’re even in the maesters room in the first place. “It is alright husband I’m fine!” You insist seeing the worry now marking his face.

“I will worry when I want.” He simply says, kissing you on the top of your head before moving to sit next to you on the bed. His head resting on yours as he puts his arms around you. Your eyes shutting as a sudden hit of exhaustion hits you, yet you welcome it fully as Jaces arms feel just so welcoming and calming.

Alicent Hightower:

Alicent had always been like a mother to you. Caring for you when you were sick and making sure that you were always in your highest possible health. It was probably why she’d insisted since you were young to fully call her mother, even though you were not biologically related to her.

Whenever she heard about even the slightest of injuries though, she always worried relentlessly about the damage. Which is why when you appeared before her clutching a bleeding wound from your shoulder, you’re quite honestly surprised she hadn’t dropped from shock.

“Oh my darling what has happened?!” She’d gasped, frozen in shock as she stood there not knowing what really to do.

“Bastards on their boats took a few shots at me and Shrykos whilst we were on our morn flight. They got two good shots at us to hurt us but don’t worry. Before we got here Shrykos managed to give them what was coming for them…” You groan, holding your shoulder in your hand that has now from the lack of adrenaline, has begun aching dramatically.

“Oh never mind the men I care only about you!” She fusses, coming closer before stopping half way, staring between your shoulder and your pained face. Maybe Alicent will drop from shock after all.

“SOMEBODY GET THE MAESTERS!” You hear a voice yell, before all appears to go dark before your eyes. When you wake though, it is as if the light is blinding you. You blink a few times to ground yourself, and it’s with a sudden surprise you realise that you feel a familiar warmth on your hand. You turn your head slightly, stiff from the lack of movement you think, and realise Alicent is staring at you with great worry on her face.

“Are you feeling alright my darling? The maesters have cleaned and sewed up your wound, but according to them it shall take a while for it to fully heal. You must tell me dear girl, in detail, what happened out there. What did those people do to you?”

“After me and Shrykos took off, we flew to the stormlands. We were drifting round shipbreaker bay, when those men the council warned us over took notice. Crossbows the size of my arm began shooting at us mother, so I am grateful they managed to get me and Shrykos only once.” At the mention of your dragon, your face turns to worry. Yet before you say anything, your mother quickly moves to interrupt you.

“Your dragon is safe my love. The dragon keepers have been keeping me up to date on her healing, and she is steadily heading to full recovery. The arrow has been removed fully, and the wound has stopped bleeding.” She says, her face betraying her as she is unable to hide her distaste of your dragon.

“Thank you mother, I appreciate the consideration. I know you have no love for Shrykos, nor any of your children’s dragons.” You say, your honesty true as you smile in thanks and understanding.

“You’re welcome my heart…” Your mother smiles, her hand reaching out to hold yours. Which while you admittedly want to shy away from, yet you push through your discomfort to allow your mother this moment that you know your adoptive sister would not have allowed.

“I do not want you to fly unaccompanied anymore my heart,” Alicent begins, shushing your with a single movement when she sees you about to harshly protest. “I have discussed this with your brothers and sister, and they have all agreed. Aemond has already taken the duty on his ever eager shoulders, and has said he will ride with you tomorrow morn at your usual time. It may be in your best interest to thank him next time you see him.”

“Of course mother…” You sigh, already dreading Aemonds smug face and wanting to punch it. Yet you withhold yourself from groaning out loud only from your mother’s sake, who is still holding your hand with intended comfort, even though she is doing nothing but make your blood pump fast around your body. Still, you say nothing. Allowing her to believe she is comforting you with a motherly smile on her face.

Daemon Targaryen:

Daemon had always possessed an amusingly short temper. It was especially tested though whenever it regarded to you. Whenever you got yourself hurt as a child, whether than was to do with training or just an accident in the halls, he always demanded to know the man behind your pain. It’s why you weren’t at all surprised when he reacted that same way when you flew back to Dragonstone and stumbled towards him with an arrow stuck in your shoulder blade.

“Who has dared to harm you zaldritzos? Tell me so I can show them what the exact consequence is for messing with a dragon. I am sure caraxes is already fuelled with my anger alone and is ready to face those who dares spill such precious blood.” Daemon snarls, his face unable to hide its anger as he holds your body steady so it won’t suddenly collapse.

“Bastards from the bloody ships on the bloody sea. Got us good… got us good…” You slur, every word feeling forced from your very gut as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes zaldritzos! Don’t you fucking close them!” You hear him snarl once more. But still, you cannot resist the temptation of sleep as you disobey your father and close your eyes.

When you find yourself waking, it is Daemon is standing by you while you slept. His eyes hard and stern as they observe you.

“I suppose you’re mad?” You can’t help but say. Your face admittedly ashamed as you stare to the floor, unable to hold his stare.

“Of course I am mad!” He yelled, refusing to allow you to turn your head away as he forces you to make eye contact with him. “My daughter has gone out without telling me, and she has gotten herself hurt the same way soldiers are hurt in wars!”

“I am sorry father!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes as the disappointed and anger shines through his. “I cannot control where those bastard men sail-“

“But you can control where you fly!” Daemon yells back. His voice rough and frustrated as the inner dragon inside him comes out. “I have taught you better than this zaldritzos! I have been teaching you how to ride that dragon of yours since you were a mere child! So why was it you were no doubt flailing about the sky like an amateur, when I know you could have done better?!”

“I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” You shout, shoving your father away as he stares at you with an expressionless face. “I am not a great leader, or a great dragon rider! I am still learning father! My lessons have not yet stopped being taught! Those men on the ships who shot at us were the ones you had warned us about. The ones claiming our great traditions to be an abomination and deserving of punishment. Me and Shrykos did not know their affiliation as we flew above them. Only when the arrows began to fly for our heads did we realise… I got an arrow in the shoulder, which has now since been removed. Shrykos though listened perfectly and managed to get out of there without any particularly damaging wounds. Still, my anger shon through her, and we managed to light the whole of the fleet up in flames before we flew back home. Where of course, you found me…”

Daemon is silent throughout your rant, yet by the end, when you’re breathless with how quickly you spoke, his hand is placed on your non-injured arm in an unfamiliarly comforting manner.

“I know you are not like me zaldritzos. While I have made you in my image, I hardly expected it to be your only outcome. You have become strong. You have become a fearsome warrior able to bring honour to our family name and our ancestors. I suppose… I may have forgotten that I too have made mistakes. I am sorry zaldritzos…”

The tears that had brimmed earlier in your eyes now tear down your face now that you hear your fathers words. His pride. So you do the only thing you can think of at that moment to show your appreciation. You take your arms and place them around Daemons waist, pulling him into a hug where your head is against his chest. Thankfully his arms seem to automatically go around your own body, and you can’t help but find this act comforting and safe.

“Thank you…” You can’t help but murmur.

“I would never let anything hurt you…” He murmurs back. Words which to anyone else may sound meaningless, but to you, you know they hide your father’s true feeling of care.

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

Rhaenyra had always been a sort of mother to you. A light to guide you in the darkest of your days. Whenever you took ill or had an injury, it was always she who stood by your bed, holding your hand in her own. Even though both husbands and loyal guards warned her of her possibly falling ill herself. Not that she ever did somehow though.

It was like that now. That afternoon, you had decided on a whim to take Shrykos on a fight around the coasts bordering the land surrounding Dragonstone. Yet it seems you coincidentally forgot Daemons talk about the rising threat of a religious group following faithfully the followings of the seven, as you tried to fly past them calmly and peacefully. Shrieking in fear when you realise it was not a harmless fly that flew past your face just now, but a very deadly steel-tipped arrow.

You barely made it out of there alive. The only injuries you yourself sustaining being a few arrow nicks on your shoulders, and the worse of it being a shallow puncture from one of the few successful shots. Shrykos though took most of the hits. Her rage seething the more those pathetic men tried to harm both her and her rider. It was quite satisfying you must say, when you flew away with the fresh smell of burning corpses still behind you, lingering on your clothes.

Yet when you got back home and were standing in front of your mother, that satisfaction quickly changed to a strange sort of guilt when you see her horror struck face.

“What has happened my darling!” She tells, taking ahold of your arm to look at your injury while you yell at her to try and say you were fine, even though you wince as soon as she yanks you towards her.

“Bloody men on the coast of Gull Town decided to shoot at us from their fucking boats. They got only a few good shots before Shrykos managed to get to them. By the time we left, we ensured they became fire and ash. I doubt there are any men alive after that….” You say, barely able to stand as the sudden blood loss reaches you.

You’re barely able to think as your mother brings you to the castle hanging on her shoulder. Soon, maesters surround you whilst your mother fusses by your bed to the left of you. She insists and demands certain things, but by the end, your grateful to feel the pain in your arm significantly lessen not only due to the lack of wooden arrow, but also due to the large amount of milk of the poppy that was pretty much forced down your throat.

“Is it all better now my darling?” Your mother asks, putting your hand between her own to soothe you as if you were a small child who’d scuffed their leg falling on some loose gravel.

“It is fine mother!” You insist. Even smiling as you play the part of the healthy child, able to bounce back from any injuries. Yet somehow she can still manage to see through your facade.

“Are you sure?” She asks again. Her brow raised in questioning as she makes you feel like a young child again. Small, and helpless as you cry to mother.

“Yes I am fine!” You firmly say, taking your hand from hers and placing it on the cold clinical bed sheets. Already missing the familial warmth your mother’s hands had provided you with. “I do not need you pressing!”

“Okay my love. I believe you.” Rhaenyra smiles, acknowledging her child’s want for independence. Moving from the chair she previously had sat on so she can place a quick kiss to the top of your head and smile fondly at the way your nose scrunches. “I will leave you now my love. The maesters had said you’ll fully heal by the moons next turn, but you’re fit to leave the bed tomorrow morn. I’ll visit you then.”

As quick as Rhaenyra leaves, you find yourself already wanting her motherly touch to tell you it’s okay. Your legs tucking under your chin as you hold yourself under the covers, letting your eyes shut so hopefully you’re able to wake up tomorrow by your mother’s voice.

Helaena Targaryen:

Compared to all your other family members, it has always been Helaena you were closest too. A close bond forging between the two of you since girlhood that not once has ever been broken.

You were with her when she claimed Dreamfyre, just as she was there for you when you claimed Shrykos. You also made sure to try and be with her whenever she experienced one of her, moments.

Yet that morning, you were way too busy trying to get ready for your usual morn flight to be with her when she took what the queen would call, a funny turn.

‘Blood of the dragon lost twice over. Beware the boats from bellow filled with men of hate.’

She’d seen your injury and the fire coming from your dragons mouth, and being the anxious person she was, she waited at the dragon keeps entrance with her hands fiddling with each other.

When you fly in holding your arm to try and stem the blood, getting off with difficultly as you try and not fall, you almost scare yourself when you turn and suddenly find yourself face to face with Helaena, who holds a bandage ready to treat you with it.

“Give me your arm…” She softly asks, waiting for you to release your arm from your grip so she can slowly and carefully take the arrow from your arm, choosing to ignore your vocal cries of pain so she can make sure to get the arrow out. When she does, she chooses to just drop the bloody wooden chunk to the floor so she can quickly wrap your now gushing wound, which she cleans with a slightly damp clothe that can’t have been out of the water bowl for long.

“What happened?” She asked while she cleaned your red streaked arm.

“Do you remember those men Aemond warned us about? The ones who hate us for our heritage?” You ask, waiting to hear Helaena unique hum to show she’s truly listening. “Well when I was flying by Tarth, those men were in there boats and obviously spotted me before I spotted them. So they shot at me till they hit me.” You shrug, regretting it soon as you did as you hiss at the sudden flare up of pain.

“It’ll hurt badly. I didn’t manage to take any milk of the poppy from the maesters, so we’ll probably need to visit them soon.” Helaena simply says, giving you a smile before she takes your hand in her own. An act you cannot say in words how much it means to you, given how you know of her usual revulsion for physical touch.

So you stay silent. Allowing her to lead you to the maesters with a small smile on your face, that is wiped right off when you become face to face with them. They stare at your with judgement and soulless eyes as they remove you from Helaenas comforting warmth and instead force you to feel cold metal against your flesh. They ignore you as they unwrap the bandages. Only giving each other looks as they wordlessly judge the state of your body.

It almost makes you want to tear their heads from their bodies and feed them to Shrykos. Who no doubt is feeling your frustrations and anger down in the dragon pit.

Yet you hold your tongue for Helaenas sake, who is watching the maesters take supposed special care of you from the corner of the room. She gives you small smiles whenever you make eye contact, and it’s only with them you manage to pull through. The milk of the puppy though they force down your throat certainly makes you more cooperative though you must say.

“Thank you Hel, for looking after me.” You say, staring at her as soon as the maesters deemed you healed enough and left you. No doing to go get the queen to inform her of your sudden injury.

“It is no problem…” She softly smiles back, moving forward to stand next to you so she can hold your hand in her own. Her soft flesh relaxing you possibly even more than the drugs flowing through your system. “I will always be there for you…”

Laenor Valeryon:

Even though you always knew that Laenor could never truly be your father, he nonetheless always managed to act like one better than anyone. While your mother was busy attending to your brothers, it was Laenor who was always busy attending to you, making sure you were fussed in a way a princess should be fussed.

He always made sure to give you the bestest care a princess may need it. Like right now for instance.

“I NEED A MAESTER RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” You remember your father screaming while your vision slowly began to blur in a variety of difference places. “Where are you hurt ñuha nūmio? Where is the pain? What can I do?”

“Arrow in the fucking shoulder.” You groan, bile building in your throat as you resist the urge to vomit. “Only there father. Shrykos was hit too. Fuck it hurts so much…”

“Do not worry dear girl! The maester will come!” As he says this, guards come running with a maester in tow. The guards take ahold of you carefully as you nearly collapse under the sudden blood rush. The maester barking orders for what to do to you to cause the least amount of damage to your body as possible.

When you get to the healing room, you’re placed roughly onto a bed where now a whole group of maesters now flock to you like a group of crows over a fresh carcass. They all say a different method on how to treat you, yet it’s Laenor whose voice shines louder than them all.

“You will not cut up or harm my daughter!” He yells, his voice firm and harsh as he glares at them all. “You will take out that fucking arrow, and you will heal her. Or I swear, as the heir of the realms husband, I’ll make all of you fucking regret it!”

All is silent, and yet with a firm glare they all scatter to complete your father’s order. Soon, cloth is finding its way in your mouth to quench your screams as hands force the arrow once imbedded in your arm is forced onto a silver plate. Blood gushing down your arm in an admittedly disturbing manner.

By the end, there is an elder looking maester stitching up your blood coated arm, and an arrow head and some wood pieces. Laenor held your hand with every scream and every clench of your body. He made sure you felt as safe as you could in the presence of the same type of men who killed your aunt. He also made sure to quickly push them out as soon as they were done with there work. Nodding along in a dismissive manner as they insist they are still needed.

When they are eventually shushed away however, with the door shut quickly behind them, Laenor quickly finds himself by your side again. His hand laced firmly in yours as he takes a lone damp cloth so he can clean away the dried blood still decorating your wounded flesh.

“Does it hurt much? I can always call a maid to fetch you some milk of the poppy?” Laenor insisted, his touch delicate as he makes sure not to harm you in any way.

“It merely stings…” You shrug, wincing though soon as you do due to the sudden flare up in your shoulder. “I do not need any milk of the poppy father. I can manage my pain.”

“I can see that…” He grins, even chuckling when he sees your own smile. “Though, I must ask. What happened? You did not exactly give me much information before the maesters came for us.”

“Me and Shrykos began our normal journey to the direction of Runestone. But on the coast of Gull town, it appears those men mother had recently warned us about, the ones who deem our customs immoral and a disgrace to a seven, spotted us before we spotted them. They took no time before they were shooting at us with giant crossbows on their ship. They took us by surprise, and managed to get only a single time, but that was enough to enact Shrykos’ rage. I didn’t even say the command father! Shrykos enacted our joined rage and set fire to their ships and their bodies. If they weren’t dead by the time we left, I am almost sure they are all at least dead by now.”

He takes in your words carefully. Murmuring small words every so often while he holds your hand as a sigh of sympathy. When your done though, his face is smeared in deep anger. A hatred you have never seen your father show ever before in your lifetime.

“Well it’s a good think they are dead though,” He finally says, snapping from his thoughts with a huff. “Because if they were alive, Seasmoke would be gorging on a feast right now!”

“Thank you father…” You simply say, falling into his arms that welcome you immediately. You close your eyes and allow yourself to bask in his familiar comforting warmth.

299 notes · View notes

amandav09 · 6 months

Text

COD-Sut up challenge

hello everyone! Yes I’m still alive

Summary : For this post I had the idea to use the challenge in which a child says "shut up" to his mother (with the accod of the parent) to see the reaction of the father

Warming : Very slight sexual incinuation, implied violence

Word count :8,5k

Gif not mine - I speak bad English and I am dislexyque, so sorry for the inconvenience

Ghost

Simon sat quietly in front of his computer. Her son ran into the living room, while you drop your husband a tea, you kiss his forehead and send a quick look at your son, the signal.

«(N/B) Stop running please» you hide somehow the phone that filmed the reaction of Ghost.

«Shut up mom»

The reaction is immediate, Simon grabs the arm of (N/B) to stop him in his race and gives him the most severe look.

"What did you just say?"

“Simon…” You step in and tell him it was a joke. But he cuts you before you continue.

“No one in this fucking house disrespects you. Even outside, no one has the right”

Simon’s grip was not strong, his cold tone was enough to bring anyone to attention.

«Luv, darling, it’s a joke» I smile gently to him showing my phone

He frowns and lets go of your son’s arm. His gaze fixed in your eyes «Run»

You wasted no time and ran fast, your husband on your heels while your son laughed in the background.

Konig

Konig dried the dishes while you sat on the couch. Your daughter sat in the seat in front of you. She was smiling and waiting for you to start. Your phone hiding behind a cushion and turned towards the kitchen door

«Honey, did you clean your room today?» You say loud enough for Konig to hear

Your daughter does not answer and puts her hand on her mouth to prevent herself from laughing.

«Mom asked you a question, luv» Gently said Konig while continuing his task. From the kitchen, he had no visibility on your daughter waiting for the right moment.

"So (N/G)? Did you make your room?" I repeat my question with an thumbs up.

«Shut up mom» Can she say, the most serious voice possible

You’ve never seen Konig turn so quickly towards you

«kleines Herz (little heart) comes here» Your daughter gets up and goes to see her father. Konig lowers himself to his height and takes his little hand «You must not speak like that, your mother and I love you with all our heart, but respect goes both ways...» He would continue to gently correct your daughter, but frowned as he saw her try to stop laughing. Slightly bewildered, he looked at you. His only response was your loving gaze, and when he looked down, he saw the phone half hiding behind a cushion.

“Oh. So you gang up against me?” He quickly got up and grabbed your daughter and put her under his arm. She struggles laughing while her father quickly approaches you. He grabbed you before you could do anything and put you on his shoulder «meine beiden Töchter (my two daughters) enjoys teasing me? I’m going to have to take revenge!" He says happily as he heads to the bathroom.

“You won’t dare?” You try to get off his shoulder and understand what he was going to do.

“You really want to test me meine Liebe (my love)?” He put you both in the bathtub and took the shower head «Last words to say?»

Your daughter tried to echo her father between two laughs, but he lit the water on you two «We will see if you will still want to make jokes next time» He says in a proud tone

Price

He was in his office filling out paperwork, his door was open.

You enter by straightening your coat, your phone hide in the outer pocket of your coat.

“(N/G) Come kiss your dad before I take you to school” I tell my daughter when she walks by the door.

«Shut up mom» She says without stopping to walk

You look at your husband who continued to write quietly, as if he had heard nothing

“You don’t say anything?” You ask.

Without even looking up from his papers, John answers: «One, we educated our daughter well, she would never say that. Two, I heard you laughing and whispering in his room, not even 10 minutes ago. And three...” He finally looks up at you, with a smile on his lips «You have hidden your phone very badly» He nods to your pocket where the phone was on the verge of falling «Well tried anyway, my love»

Makarov (I know, I know. Already the idea that he has a wife is impossible, so to have a child... But let me dream!)

He was on the phone with Yuri, a paper in his hand and pacing in the living room. You were putting wood in the fire because of the cool Russian

«(N/G) you can give me this log please?» you made an expres to put a log quite far from you. Your daughter was right next door and was reading a book, waiting for the right moment.

«Shut up mom» You often found that your daughter resembled her father, and while she said this sentence with the most neutral look possible, it confirmed the thing.

Your gaze turned to your husband who had a cold face and eyes turned to his daughter

«I’ll call you back later Yuri» He didn’t wait for an answer and hung up «What did you say to my wife?» He asked, the cold tone "As far as I know, you were not educated like that. Apologize quickly."

“Why would I do it?” (N/G)

“Because before it was your mother, it was my wife, and it still is. No one disrespects her. No one disrespects you either.” He said to her, “You must respect the people who deserve it. And your mother is the person who most deserves your respect.”

"My love." Step in. His head turns to you, his gaze slightly less cold, "It’s a joke."

He takes a slight breath and closes his daughter’s ears

“I’m going to make you regret this when she goes to bed.”

A shiver of excitement runs through you. You’ll probably have to find an excuse to explain why you’ll have trouble walking the next day.

Graves

Phillip was doing push-ups in the living room, you were sitting on his back, the strength he always amazed you.

Your son entered the living room.

“Cheri, can you grab my book, please?” I wink at him. Your son nods and takes an innocent face.

Shut up mom

Graves stop while he was going to chain another pump

“I should have put on a condom.”

You give him a little blow to the head for his comment. He laughs at that, then continues his push-ups. You thought he wasn’t gonna say anything else, but he called your son

«Apologize quickly before I ask Mom to get off my back»

«Pardon» said your son in you a little smile

«Well, now give him his book, and I don’t hear you talking like that anymore»

I run my hand through Phillip’s wet hair

«It’s a joke, my love»

He stops again, his body a few centimeters from the ground. He leaned slightly to his right to make you fall on your back, the soft carpet receiving your body. And before you can straighten up, Phillip is on top of you, "So you’re trying to get our son to prank me?" He smiles.

"No?" His smile grows even more when he sees your weak attempt.

"I will find revenge, darling, and ohhh, believe me, you will regret it."

Rudy

That poor baby just woke up when he heard your son say that.

You and your son had waited machiavelly for him to enter the kitchen

Hearing this quickly woke him up. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder

"Did Uncle Alejandro teach you to talk like that?" He had to yell at his best friend several times for the words he used while your son was nearby

He favors discussion when there is a conflict (except with Alejandro), in addition, it is with a child, and the child in question is his. He wants to resolve this quickly and efficiently.

«Yes» Your son decides to involve his uncle in the joke, and you must restrain yourself so as not to laugh and to pray for this poor man who has nothing to do with it.

«Apologize to mom» He caresses the boy’s head «And don’t talk to him like that anymore, mom is the woman of our life, we shouldn’t speak badly to him» He says softly. Then he takes out his phone

"What are you doing?" You’re frowning.

«I must speak to Alejandro» You could feel the anger emanating from him little by little

Before you could tell him it was a joke. He was already out in the garden

You quickly pick up your phone and send a message to Alejandro: «Sorry»

A few minutes later. Rudy comes back sighing, he takes you in his arms and puts his head on your shoulder

"Why do I feel like we have two children and not one?" You gently run your hand through her hair

Your phone vibrated and when you read the message, you took note to offer a box of chocolate to Alejandro

“I hate you ರ╭╮ರ”

Alejandro

Your husband held you in his arms while you were making breakfast. Your 7-year-old son enters the kitchen while your 5-year-old daughter was already sitting at the table.

“(N/A), did you pack for school?”

Your son, with whom you prepared this farce, slowly walked to the table.

Shut up mom

Alejandro did not even have time to react that your daughter got up and shook her big brother by the t-shirt.

“Never talk like that to Mom!” Your husband quickly grabbed your daughter to keep her away.

«My baby is a joke» I say quickly. (N/B) Laugh at his sister’s reaction while Alejandro always held your sulky daughter in his arms

«She has your character» You smiled at your husband who made a grimace in agreement.

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #konig x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #makarov x reader #rudy parra x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #graves x reader

673 notes · View notes

kingconia · 9 months

Note

okay um very strange request but... there is a scene in harry potter movie when ron gets hurt and he is all delirious and there is lavanda who stays by his side and tries to say hermione to go away?? but then ron calls for hermione through his sleep? can you do that this scene with malleus and leona separately where reader is pomefiore student who gets hurt and vil is mad at malleus and leona for hurting you somehow or just allowing it to happen so they try to send them away but reader calls for them through sleep?,, preferably fem!reader but tbh your wish (sry for bad English)

A/N: Hello. I've got you.

Also, we are having a 100 followers here! Wow! Maybe, I should do something special to thank you?

MALLEUS DRACONIA & LEONA KINGSCHOLAR WITH FEM!S/O, WHO CALLS THEIR NAME IN A FEVER

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— He swore it was an accident. He just got distracted by conversation with Ruggie for a few minutes, and then, some Savanaclaw students attacked you with magic, when you simply tried to train with others;

— He instantly ran to your side. Instead of fighting two freshmen—he planned to do that after you will recover—that he left on Ruggie's and Jack's mercy, Leona took you to the healer;

— You were alive, you were fine, but still, it seemed like you were slightly delirious, tossing blankets around, murmuring something, being under some spell;

— And then, of course, your overprotective housewarden appeared. And nothing got better for Leona, when Vil was around.

•

”Get away from her, beast. Or I will ask Hunt to shot you,” Vil hissed, hands gently resting on your forehead, trying to check the temperature. ”I knew that she will get in troubles because of you, I told her so!”

Leona gritted his teeth.

Usually he was more of less fine with Vil Schoenheit being against your relationship—Leona never cared, actually; what his word meant to him, after all?—but right now, wasn't his best moment.

Though, Leona was aware that you were fine, he felt tired and disappointed in himself for not being able to keep you safe. He genuinely panicked when you fell on the ground, painful sounds, escaping your lips. He thought he will lose you.

So, yes, Vil's words were too... Much for now.

He knew he was a trouble. For his family, for his kingdom, for this school, too.

But—

”Seriously,” Vil added, voice sounding still furious, ”leave.”

Leona stared at your pained expression for a while, lips thinning as he eventually gave up. Just as usual. He couldn't find powers to fight for the throne, knowing that no one wished to see him here. And he couldn't find powers to fight for you, knowing he made it worse.

So, Leona turned to the doors.

He almost left, when you weakly murmured something, making both of housewardens to froze on their places.

”Stay...”

His ears perked up a little. Had you heard the conversation? Did you speak to him?

”What is it, my sweet potato?” Vil murmured, almost in the gentlest motherly tone. ”Tell me what is it.”

”Leona... Stay. Leona.”

Vil's worried expression hastily shifted into disappointed one as he raised his eyes on the said beastman. Leona, from the other side, felt how his tail swayed from one side to another, nervously. Even his heartbeat became faster.

Could it be... Ah, of course. Of course, his stupid girl cared about him even now, when she was one in pain.

Finally, Leona's body relaxed.

”What?” He couldn't help but feel a little smug as he mocked Vil. ”I am allowed to stay here now, your highness?”

”...If it is her wish,” Vil answered reluctantly.

But Leona actually didn't care about his permission. He already dragged chair closer to your bed, and took your free hand in his, fingertips brushing your knuckles. And as soon as you felt his touch, your face eased, becoming more peaceful.

Though Vil didn't leave until you woke up, Leona couldn't care less. Very soon he fell asleep himself, keeping your hand in both of his, forehead pressing to the matters.

Despite everything, his sleep was peaceful. How couldn't it be, if Leona knew that you loved him so dearly, after all?

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— You really want this man to suffer, don't you?

— Malleus was always nervous about your safety, waiting for something to happen. But when it actually happened, he couldn't believe that it was under his roof. Oh, how he loathes himself for it;

— Though, the fault laid mostly on Sebek's shoulders, Malleus still blamed himself for not being around when you truly needed him;

— Malleus was definitely panicking on the inside, but outside he acted rationally, taking you to the healer instantly. For some, he even appeared to look cold and indifferent;

— He knew how protective your housewarden was, and though he and Vil never fought personally, he was ready for some aggression from his side. However, he couldn't expect to hear such words...

•

”Listen, Draconia, I understand that our lives mean nothing to you. Our whole lifespan is hardly a quarter of yours, but, perhaps, you can keep at least one person, who for some reason chose you, safe?!”

Malleus was standing in the middle of the room, unmoving. Though, he looked calm and collected, these words hit him exactly on his open wound.

Your lifespan was always one of his main concerns. As he spent time with you, all of his thoughts were busy with counting how much time were left for you to live in this world. And Vil was right, for him, it was nothing. It wasn't enough.

”I am genuinely sorry,” his voice quiet, hardly a whisper. ”I assume, I merely should leave her alone.”

He wasn't sure if he meant for now or generally.

”Yes, you should.” Vil nodded, sitting up on your right side.

Malleus was almost outside, when he heard your voice. It was weak, weaker than usual, and you clearly was still unconscious. Yet, somehow, you managed to croak:

”Malleus.”

He instantly was running to your side.

”Mhm?” Vil stroked your hair tenderly. ”What did you say, my sweet potato?”

”Malleus... Don't go, Malleus.”

Malleus felt his heart shattering in two pieces as he heard you almost pleading for him to stay. He fell on his knees wordlessly, crossing his hands together, almost as if he was praying.

”Once again, I apologise,” he addressed Vil. ”But her wish is my only command.”

And though man in front of him clearly wasn't happy—Malleus could sense that—he gave up, leaving both of you alone, taking from him a promise to message him as soon as you wake up.

And Malleus spent all his night like this, not moving even from an inch, aching to touch your pale hand, but never allowing himself; punishing for being so uncareful with someone he held so dearly in his heart.

Ah, little did he knew that you never blamed him for anything...

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader

576 notes · View notes

devilishchaos · 10 months

Note

Heyy idk if u take requests but can u do where the reader have a girl with ruben and they’re celebrating the ucl win on the pitch etc and the their child starts playing with ronny and they assume that the girl and ronny have a tiny crush on eachother yk cute moments etc🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Moments like this | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: pure fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Warnings: use of pet names "babe", "baby"

Word Count: 1 059 words

AN: Hello! idk if I take requests, I received this one and this is my first ever request, I loved it and thank you so much. <3 I unfortunately don't speak portuguese so I used google translate, if you find any mistakes don't hesitate to let me know. On another note - I absolutely love Ronnie and everybody from City! I kind of added a little bit more plot so I hope it is okay and I also made it kinda long, like why am I like this? but hey I loved working on this, so I hope you enjoy it :) x

p.s. while I was working on this Mr. The Sexiest Man Alive posts this picture..like sir, are you trying to unalive me or sth..respectfully tho..Rúben stop playing with me and let me have your kids <3 :p x

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

“Is your missus here tonight?” John asked his best mate Rúben, from across the room, as all Manchester City players were getting dressed in their kits and were preparing to attend the Uefa Champions League final tonight. Rúben turns away from his locker, trying to brush out a crease that had formed in his shorts.

“Yes, she flew with the kids. They landed, like two hours ago.” He tells him, going to the mirror to begin fussing with his hair, even though he would just be pushing it back out of his face anyway. “This puts even more pressure. I’m basically obliged to perform well.”

“She flew alone with two kids for what four hours?” Bernardo joins the conversation, grinning at Rúben. “She is a wonder woman.”

“She definitely is!” John agrees, walking over to pat Rúben's shoulder comfortingly but he shakes his head, already nervous at the idea of his kids watching him. After the loss in the final 2021 and in the semi’s in 2022, Rúben promised his family to win the next time around. And now it was hitting him hard - he never breaks his promises. The pressure was definitely skyrocketing through the roof.

It all happened very fast. You needed a couple of seconds to process that Rodri in fact had scored a beautiful goal. Which meant that City took the lead 1-0. There were approximately 20 more minutes and if City were able to handle the tension, that meant that the guys would complete a treble. You knew what that meant to them, to Rúben. Everything was at a very high stake. Your stomach was in knots and your leg bobbed up and down with anxiousness as you were looking at the clock, counting down the seconds until the end of the match, until the referee's final whistle.

After what felt like the longest extra time that you’ve experienced in a match it was finally over, when the end of the match was announced everybody in the VIP sector (the families of the players) stood up and raised their arms in joy, cheering in excitement.

“George. Azlia. Come on! Let’s go congratulate daddy!” you took them by their hands and somehow managed to get down to the pitch.

The three of you push your way through the crowd on the soccer field. It was hard for you to see the way in the ocean of bodies. Then John taps lightly on your shoulder and points at a gap you can pass through. That’s when you see him. He has his back turned to you, engaged in conversation with a staff member. He doesn’t see you, but it’s like he feels you coming, and turns around, his gaze landing to you. Without looking back at the man behind him, he excuses himself and starts making his way over to you.

“Papai!” George screams as he breaks away from your hand and runs to your husband, obviously he can't contain his excitement anymore. Rúben kneels down to be on the same level as him and he runs straight in his arms. You picked up Azlia as she was struggling to keep up with your pace with her little feet, because you wanted to get to Rúben faster.

As you finally reach him you walk right into his open arms, your hands fisting his jersey. It feels so good to be holding him.

“You did it! I’m so, so, so proud of you, amor! You did so good! I’m so happy for you! A treble, wow..unbelievable!” you said quite loudly in his ear with a smile that hurt your cheeks.

You raised your head a little and he bent down a little, so you could share a kiss. As you pulled away, you gave him a kiss to the side of his mouth and ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Eu te amo, meu amor.” he said to you, looking directly into your eyes wanting to look into them forever.

Not breaking eye contact you replied just a heartbeat later “Te amo mais.”

“Da-da,da-..” Azlia babbled in your arms, reminding you guys of her existence.

“Eu também te amo, princesa.” Rúben said as he kissed her chubby cheeks.

The awarding took place very quickly. You moved away with the rest of the wives, girlfriend and family members of the players and found yourself jumping from conversation to conversation. Everyone was so excited. Except the kids. They didn’t understand what was happening and just ran away the second the ceremony was done.

You were frantically looking for Azlia when you felt two big, strong hands on your waist, bringing you into a hug from behind.

“What are you doing, love?” Rúben asked with amusement.

“I’m looking for Azlia! I can’t find her! George ran away with Roman and Riaan, and I swear Azlia was standing right beside me and now she is gone.” you said while turning in his arms, to face him.

“Baby she is a one-and-a-half-year-old, with tiny little legs. How far can she go?” he chuckled, as you continued to search for her with your eyes.

“Oh, there she is. Taking pictures with the other kids.” you finally spotted her, taking a picture with Kyle, his sons and Ronnie.

“Baby, chill. These kids are having the time of their lives. They can’t stay in the same position for more than 10 seconds. Look at them running around!” Rúben assured you. That made you smile, but not as much as when you watched Ronnie chasing Azlia around and the two pig tails on top of her hair were bouncing with every step she took.

“Aww, look babe, Ronnie is showing Azi his medal. How cute!” you pointed at them for Rúben to see.

“He is now putting his medal on her..” Rúben stated quite shook “Yo, Foden, watch your son!” he then shouted in Phil’s direction, who stood all the way to the other side of the pitch.

“Rúben! Oh my God! Baby..they are kids..” you hit his chest lightly, bursting into a fit of giggles.

“I have a medal, too..I’m gonna go show it to her.” and with that he left you watching him attempt to come close to Ronnie and Azlia, but when they saw him approaching them - they ran away laughing.

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

556 notes · View notes

sunshinevanfleet · 11 months

Text

karma - j. kiszka

pairing: jake x reader

a/n: hello! i'm gifting you all some enemies to lovers jake smut <3. i worked really hard on this one so i hope it's okay. this one is college!au jake. it's not edited so pls forgive me for any silly mistakes. also if you're sensitive to bullying (not really but? if you squint) then pls don't read. ok love u all!!!

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), enemies to lovers

word count: 4.6k

summary: the reader is locked out of her dorm room late at night, with no way inside. her only escape is the man she can't stand, jake kiszka.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, explicit sex scenes, etc.

Karma sure was a bitch.

Sitting in the hallway floor of your dorm building, well past 2 AM on a Wednesday morning, you were beginning to wonder what you did to deserve this. Soaking wet from the rain, missing a shoe, and locked out of your dorm room, you were pleading with every force in the universe for your roommate to somehow miraculously return early from Spring Break to let you into the room. Your phone and keys were locked in the bar that you and your friends left hours before, and you were effectively locked out until you could get in touch with the housing office in the morning. What a wonderful time to be alive.

You debated it in your head; maybe it was the time you laughed at your roommate for falling down the stairs. Or when you refused to give your brother twenty dollars for gas money. Most prominent in your thoughts, though, was when you’d become fed up with your neighbor and hammered on his door to scream at him over the endless noise he made day-in and day-out. Maybe if you had a smidge more patience, you would be able to knock on his door and at least ask for a towel, considering he was the only other person on your floor that stayed at school for break.

A heavy sigh departed your lips as you shifted, leaning your head back against the wall. You closed your eyes, though it did little against the fluorescents in the hallway. A headache pulsed dully at your temples, your mouth dry and your limbs starting to ache after the long walk back to campus. Sitting here, abandoned and helpless was its own unique form of torture. You knew your out. The door beside yours stood there, the thin wood taunting you in its frame. The man behind it, Jake Kiszka, was your natural enemy. The complete and utter bane of your existence. It wasn’t only that he was a pest of a neighbor– fucking and shouting and playing music at all odd hours– he was also argumentative, arrogant, and an absolute fuckboy.

Even before you’d marched to his door and practically beat a hole in it, his reputation preceded him. The amount of girls in your lectures you heard whispering about him was unbelievable. He was the campus heartbreaker. True that he was fantastically attractive, and a talented musician. But from what you heard, and experienced… he was a complete asshole. You’d had your share of questionable interactions with him, and wanted absolutely nothing at all to do with Jake Kiszka.

The last hour sitting in the hallway gave you plenty of time to think over your situation. It was hard to believe that you weren’t getting your divine retribution. Your only escape from sitting in this misery for the next six hours was the guy you absolutely despised. As you sobered up, you understood clearly that you were being bullheaded. Bratty. Stubborn. Wouldn’t it be worse to have to grovel at Jake’s feet?

As you were weighing your options, the sound of footsteps jostled you from your thoughts. You peeled your eyes open, blinking at the brightness as they adjusted. Standing before you was exactly the person you didn’t want to see. Jake peered at you, lifting an eyebrow as he examined your disheveled frame crumpled on the floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding halfway concerned.

You laughed humorlessly, running a hand over your face. You refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing in on his booted feet. You were sure you were being punished now. This was no coincidence that you were literally at his feet, having to ask for help.

“I’m locked out,” you muttered, voice bitter. “Left my fucking phone and keys at some shitty bar. What are you doing?”

The challenge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. The corner of his mouth quirked up, a flash of amusement flickering behind his dark eyes. He took a step back, leaning against the wall across from you. His arms flexed as he crossed them over his chest, muscles stretching beneath the skin. You tore your eyes away.

“It’s spring break,” he said, as if that explained it all.

“Hmmm,” you said, nodding. “Off fucking some sorority sister, then?”

Antagonizing him was the last thing you should be doing right now. You were actively aware of that, and didn’t care. A dark chuckle left his lips.

“What’s it to you?”

You shrugged. “Just glad it was in someone else’s room, this time,” you conceded. “Would’ve been a good night for me to get some sleep.”

He laughed again, shaking his head. Jake maintained his cool facade, seeming unbothered by your digs.

“Well,” he sighed, “not that it’s any of your business, but I took a day trip to see my family.”

You swallowed hard. You almost felt a little bad for assuming he was off ruining another girl’s life. You huffed, wringing your hands in your lap. His eyes bore into you, dark irises still flashing amusement as he stared at your pitiful form on the ground. He was pleased, as you knew he would be. He expected the universe to repay you this retribution, and here he was to witness it all.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” You broke the silence, skin crawling with discomfort.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he wondered. A rage-inducing smirk spread over his lips. You gave him a dark look.

“You really don’t know?” A frown settled on your features. It wasn’t entirely the fact that he was the campus playboy, nor that he was obnoxiously loud with his nighttime escapades, but also that he had humiliated you in front of a dozen people. It was a touchy subject, and there were very few people you brought it up with. Of course, he didn’t remember it as vividly as you did. He was popular, well-liked, and not interested in the likes of you.

“No, Y/N, I don’t,” he said. He sounded truthful, and that made things worse.

You laughed, the hollow, bitter noise echoing through the empty hall. “You made a fucking joke out of me last year, Jake,” you said darkly. “Back at that stupid fucking frat party.”

“You do realize how many frat parties I’ve been to, right? You’re gonna have to be more specific…”

“That Lambda Omega Phi Halloween party,” you muttered, face flushing at the memory. “I don’t know why I even went in the first place. Somehow, Maddie convinced me, and look at me now…”

He frowned, looking seriously confused. “I still don’t follow,” he said.

You forced your gaze up to meet his eyes, shaking your head. You’d cried over the humiliation before, but now there were no more tears. Only anger. You knew he could be an asshole, but you had never expected him to do anything to you of all people. You always kept to yourself, minding your own business.

“It was late,” you began, “pretty much everyone had gone home. There were maybe ten or fifteen of us left. Someone suggested we spin the bottle. Make it a sort of spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven situation. I was uncomfortable to begin with… Imagine how I felt when you looked at me for a second, and laughed. You said, ‘We can’t invite this one to seven minutes in heaven. Little birdie told me she’s still a virgin.’ Everyone laughed.”

“Y/N–”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse, Jake,” you said, cheeks burning. “You asked me why I hate you, that’s why. And after you said that about me, in front of all of those people, I have to come home and be your neighbor. I wish you knew how that felt.”

He stared at the ground, shaking his head. When he looked back up, the amusement in his eyes was gone. His lips were set in a flat line, expression almost remorseful.

“I was drunk, Y/N, really,” he said, his voice soft. “That was wrong of me to say. Really, I feel like a piece of shit. I only remember bits and pieces.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know… I can’t say anything to make things better. I will say that I’m sorry, and I mean that.”

“Okay,” you replied. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Talking about it made it more real in your memory. It made things come flashing back: the sound of the laughter around you, the teasing smile on Jake’s lips, your stomach dropping as you realized you were once again the butt of someone’s joke. Once you graduated high school, you thought you were completely done with bullies, but you’d learned the truth that night. You would never be able to escape being teased for your timidity.

“Really, Y/N–” he was almost pleading, his voice much lighter and softer. Strained, as if he were in pain.

“Enough,” you said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No,” he argued, “it’s not fair. That I treated you that way. Maybe I had a reason, though…”

You glanced up at him, your brows furrowed together. What reason could he possibly have for embarrassing you like that? You’d rushed out of the party, tears pouring down your cheeks, mortified. There was no reason to justify that.

“I hope it was a really fucking good reason, Jake,” you hissed.

He laughed sheepishly, brushing his hair back off of his face with one hand. “It wasn’t, still isn’t,” he sighed. He refused to meet your gaze, instead staring down the empty hall. “I just– I’d seen you around campus, sat a few rows behind you in Intro to Anthropology, hell, I’d heard you talking or laughing through the dorm wall, and I… I liked you, Y/N. A lot…”

Your eyes widened as he spoke, confusion jumbling your thoughts. Embarrassment bloomed further throughout your body. You practically gaped as he continued, pouring his heart out to you.

“You’re so clever, and you always shared interesting opinions and offered perspectives I hadn’t considered in class… I saw you at that party, and you looked beautiful– hell, beautiful doesn’t even describe you. You were like… some kind of art, just walking around casually. I saw other guys looking at you, noticed them getting excited… What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want any of them to have their chance with you in spin the bottle…”

“You could have just told me,” you said, breathless.

“I realize that, now,” he continued, “but I was drunk. I was jealous. So I did something stupid, and believe me when I tell you I regret it. So much.”

“Even after I tried to break your door down?” you laughed, unable to process the information he was telling you. He liked you? It was surprising enough that he didn’t hate your guts back, but to actually like you? Romantically? He was dropping bombs on you tonight.

He grinned, “Even more,” he admitted. “All those girls I brought home… None of them were anything compared to you… I’m not proud to say that I pictured you more often than not… writhing underneath me, your perfect little blushing face.” He flushed at the very thought, pressing his lips together.

Your heart threatened to burst from your ribcage, beating rapidly. No one ever spoke to you this way. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, the tops of your ears, and you tried to hide the satisfied little smile on your lips. The situation unfolding around you was surreal. None of your friends were going to believe this when you recounted it to them in the morning.

You didn’t know what to say, so your mind settled on one burning question.

“You really think I’m a virgin?”

He blinked at you, taken aback. For a few beats, the two of you were silent. Then, he finally stuttered out a reply, “W–well, maybe. I don’t know. I just said it to keep those guys away from you.”

A real laugh broke the quiet in the hall this time, and you smiled. The reality had yet to fully wash over you; Jake Kiszka liked you? Of all people. That was something… You shook your head, taking a deep breath.

“Well, I guess I won’t spoil the surprise,” you said, voice teasing as you shrugged. “Too bad I’m stuck out in this hallway,” you continued, “I’m sure you really would like to get to know me…”

Your eyes flicked up to him, a tiny smirk playing on your lips. He rolled his eyes, scoffing as he stepped past you to unlock the door to his dorm room.

“If you wanted to come in, all you had to do was ask,” he said, trying halfheartedly to sound annoyed at you. A satisfied chuckle left your lips, and you stepped inside at his gesture.

“Why would I do that?”

“What? Ask for what you want?”

You nodded.

He smiled innocently. “That’s what good girls do, Y/N.”

You were relieved that your back was facing him. The flustered look on your face would have thrown your game completely off had he seen it.

“Good girls, hm?” you mused, peeling off your damp jacket and tossing it on his desk chair. He flicked on the lamp in the corner of the room, illuminating you in a faint amber glow. His eyes sparkled in the light, watching your movements.

He said nothing, observing you. You glanced around the room, admiring the messiness of the room. There were clothes scattered around, books laid haphazardly on the floor, posters pasted crooked on the wall. Your roommate would never allow your room to look like this. Something about the clutter made it cozier; it just made sense that his room would look this way.

“So this is where you bring all those good girls, huh?” You looked at him expectantly.

He lifted a hand up, scratching at the nape of his neck. He shifted beneath your inquiring gaze, then took a step forward to drop his keys on the desk behind you. You stared up at him, though the glint of his belt buckle at eye-level was rather enticing, you wouldn’t give in so easily.

“You know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. His fingers traced the line of your jaw, slowly coming to lift your chin. “You look really fucking good from this angle.”

Your tongue darted out to moisten your lips. You tilted your head to the side innocently, fluttering your lashes at him. “You think so?” One of your hands trailed up the inside of his leg, tracing over the denim of his jeans lightly. He shivered slightly beneath your touch, his gaze latched onto yours with an intensity you’d never seen from him before.

“Mmm,” he grunted his approval, then breathed out a few more words, “but I could think of a thing or two that’d make this angle even better…”

“And what would that be?” you teased, fingers inching closer to the bulge straining against his pants. He groaned as you traced the outline with a single finger, barely ghosting over it.

He chuckled, shaking his head at your antics. “God, you’re a fucking tease.”

“Would you rather a tease or a virgin?” you wondered aloud, still fucking with him. Your hand finally palmed his bulge completely, eliciting a lewd sound from deep within his throat. Your eyes widened, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of making him whimper and writhe at the faintest touches.

“Fuck,” he grunted as you fiddled with his belt buckle. “What kind of question is that?”

You breathed an amused breath through your nose, shrugging, “Just a question.” A devilish smile danced on your lips. You peeled down the waistband of his jeans and boxers, eyes still on his even as his cock sprang free. His breathing deepened as you wrapped a fist around the base, stroking it with a light touch.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Probably not,” you replied. “You might be able to make it up to me, though…”

Without waiting for his reply, you took the head of his cock between your lips. You let your jaw go lax, your tongue doing all of the work as you took him deeper into your mouth. His fingers pressed into the skin of your neck as he guided your chin over his cock. Jake’s mouth hung agape, eyes almost blank as he watched you suck him off.

A shaky breath stole from his mouth, “Ah, god, you’re fucking good at that…” His irises darkened considerably, going from deep amber to nearly black as lust shrouded his gaze. His lips glistened with spit, mouth open as he tried to steady his breathing. A few grunts and choked moans broke the quiet in the room, accompanied by the slick sounds of your mouth on him.

You pushed yourself further down to the base of his cock, your nose nearly brushing his pubic hair as you took him into your throat. He pulsated inside of your mouth, something like a whine tearing from his throat as you gazed up at him through wet lashes. His other hand tangled into your hair, both of them now guiding you as he gently rocked his hips into your mouth. You bobbed your head in time with his rhythm, relishing in the musical sounds of pleasure coming out of him. As the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat, you tightened the muscles around him. He growled, the sound sending shivers straight to your center.

You took him deeper, your throat squeezing around the head. He sucked in a sharp breath, and you hummed around him. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, saliva dripped over your chin, but you didn’t care. The look on his face was intoxicating; his eyes clamped shut, mouth hanging open in an expression that almost made him look pained.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna–”

You pushed even further, gagging around him as your nose finally brushed his skin. He gasped, the hand in your hair tightening as he pulled you away unexpectedly. A string of saliva followed your mouth before dripping down your neck. Your chest heaved as you panted, the air cooling the mess on your chin as you stared up at him.

“Made a mess of that pretty little face,” Jake whispered, thumb dragging through the slick on your mouth before dipping in between your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digit, bleary-eyed and lightheaded. His cock jumped in your hand, a sigh escaping his lips at the feeling of you slowly pumping him.

“Mmmm,” you hummed around his finger, bobbing as if you were still sucking him off. He watched you for a moment, transfixed by the filthy sight of you below him. Mascara smeared beneath your eyes, spit glistening on your swollen lips, your cheeks flushed.

“Pretty girl,” he mumbled, “wanna see how pretty you look riding me… C’mon…”

You stood, legs shaky already. He lifted your shirt over your head without hesitation, fingers expertly unhooking the back of your bra. You shivered, exposed to the cool air and his salacious gaze. His eyes drank in your figure for a second. They dragged over your messy face, down your clavicle, and to your exposed chest. He wasted no time in leading you to his bed, your back pressing into the sheets. His lips enclosed around one nipple, fingers tweaking the other as you arched up into his touch, sighing.

His thigh notched itself between your legs, the denim rubbing deliciously against your needy core through the thin layer of your shorts. You rocked against him, desperate for any contact. He smirked against your chest at this, breaking contact for a second. “Needy angel, aren’t we?”

“Please–” you breathed. You bit down on your bottom lip, watching the way he sucked and nipped at the skin of your chest, leaving dark marks on the skin. The throbbing in your center was becoming unbearable, the friction from his leg not enough to satisfy the desperation spreading through your veins. You needed him, now.

“Please what, angel?” He looked up at you, deep brown eyes through a shade of lashes, and your heart fluttered. You had to close your eyes, holding back the moan that threatened to spill from you just at the sight of him. His lips were a swollen, sanguine shade of red from the friction, shining with saliva. His eyes shone dark brown, honeyed like molasses. Damp pooled between your thighs, gluing the fabric of your panties to your soaked core.

You swallowed hard, and managed to gather your bearings. “Please, I need to feel you…”

A genuine smile found its way to his face at this, the cocky look playing in his eyes making you want him even more. If you were in your right mind, you would have scolded yourself for letting him charm you. But it was so easy to fall for Jake Kiszka, especially when he was perched between your legs, looking so eager to please.

“Okay,” he muttered. He leaned over you, lips finding yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, his breath sweet and addicting as your lips moved together. “Feel me, then, angel. Take what you need…” His breath fanned against your lips, and the two of you switched places. You took a second to peel off your shorts and panties as he quickly undressed.

He watched through hooded eyes as you straddled him. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal already, glistening tantalizingly over your skin. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as you pivoted your hips over him, slicking his cock in your juices.

“Don’t be too long,” he whispered. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine; it was as if he were watching his very life-force, the need in his eyes burned hot behind those irises.

A deep breath fanned out of your nose as you finally sank down onto him. You threw your head back, a piercing moan came from you as he filled you to the brim. Tears pricked your eyes at the stretch.

“Jake,” was all you could manage as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you.

“Take it, angel,” he said, voice deep and saccharine, “Go on, take what you need.”

You balanced one hand on his thigh as you began to grind against him. Your other hand gathered your hair into one hand, cooling the burning around your neck and chest. He dragged against your walls, the feeling sending sparks all through your body. You squeezed your eyes shut as your clit bumped against his pubic bone. Jolts of pleasure shot through you.

He breathed hard, one hand splayed over your thigh while the other rested behind his head. Low pants and moans spilled from his lips. That attentive gaze drank you in, every little detail carved out of soft flesh and muscle. You saw the way he admired you, and wondered how you didn’t notice it before.

Shifting positions, you lifted yourself up to bounce on him, and he breathed a small whimper. You smiled, leaning over him as you began to lower yourself once again. You maintained a steady pace, fingers hooking through the necklace hanging around his neck to pull his lips up to yours. You panted, sharing breaths for a second before you connected your lips. Bracing yourself against his chest, you increased your pace until you were making your own head spin. He was hitting all of the right spots, stars blooming in your vision as you hastily approached orgasm.

The muscles of his abdomen trembled beneath you, and he groaned as you pulled away from the kiss to breath. “God, fuck, Y/N.”

You smiled, chest heaving with every breath. “I’m almost there,” you whispered, using every bit of self-control not to cry out his name over and over again.

“Shit,” he hissed, as you swirled your hips at a different angle. “I am, too. Let go, for me, yeah?”

You nodded your agreement, fingers pressing into his chest as you lifted up. The room filled with breathless moans and the sound of skin slapping together. You brought your other hand down to your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves as you hurdled towards your orgasm. Your mouth fell agape, pornographic noises ripping through the room around you. Your thighs shook and ached as you rode him through your release, milking every ounce of pleasure out of the man beneath you. He cried out your name in his velvety tone, his body tensing as he reached his own orgasm.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he held you in place, eyes locked onto yours as his release coated your insides.

“Don’t stop,” he muttered, hips jerking into yours as you continued your pace. The muscles in your legs tightened, though the pleasure pulsing through your body shadowed the pain.

“Jake, I can’t—” you mewled, body weakened from your orgasm.

“You can, angel, I know you can…” he whispered, leaning up to grasp your face in one hand. “Keep going…”

“It’s too much–”

“One more, Y/N. Just give me one more.” He pressed his lips against your throat, biting softly against the skin. His fingers dipped between your bodies, rubbing your clit fervently. Your entire body seized, hands holding onto him for dear life. “Come on, baby…”

You cried out his name, moisture pricking your eyes as you rocked against his hand. He was softening inside of you, your walls clenching around him as he coaxed you through your second orgasm. Burying your face into his neck, you whined at the feeling.

“Almost there, baby, I know you can do it,” he cooed, lips ghosting over your jaw, up your hairline, onto your forehead. “Oh, you’re so good for me…”

He made a pleased noise as your release washed over you again, black spots clouding your vision. The sounds coming from you were animalistic, and unrelenting as you sobbed against him. He pressed gentle kisses against your temple and forehead, easing you through the overwhelming pleasure. Your body finally stilled, body going lax against him as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I knew you would be a good girl for me,” he said. He brushed the hair off of your face and neck, gently separating the two of you and laying you down on the bed. You sprawled over the sheets, the air cooling the mess between your legs as you lay there trying to slow your heart rate.

“That was…”

“Mind blowing,” Jake finished for you, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling away and standing up. He pulled his jeans back on, rummaging around in the room as you laid an arm over your eyes. You let your body relax, muscles aching from the effort of riding him.

After a second, you hissed at a cold feeling between your legs. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, watching as Jake wiped the mess from between your legs.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “didn’t wanna run down to the bathroom…”

“It’s okay,” you relaxed back into the bed again. It was a tad amusing that he kept a pack of wet wipes in his room, but you said nothing. You were too exhausted.

He tossed the soiled wipe into the trash bin by the desk, then flicked the light off. He passed you a t-shirt that smelled like him, and you pulled it over your head. His bed was more comfortable than your own at this point, your mind drifting away already after only a few seconds.

“You all right?” he asked, concern coloring his voice as he settled into bed beside you. You threw one arm over his abdomen, slipping closer to him in the darkness.

“Mhmm,” you replied.

“All right sleepyhead,” he mumbled. He pressed his lips against your temple softly. “I’ll take you to get your shit from the bar tomorrow.”

#jake x reader #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #gvf smut #gvf imagines #gvf x reader #greta van fleet #my writing

532 notes · View notes

wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 5 months

Note

Hi hope everyone is doing well, i am currently on vacations so i have a lot of time to read, im craving derek having to grovel for something and stiles not accepting every damaged done to him so easilyand building the trust slowly. Please no cheating and only happy endings cause i cant take sad or open ones. Also sterek obviously.

I think so, @anbecoqu!

To Feel Your Heart as It’s Keeping Mine by Vendelin

(1/1 I 8,563 I Teen)

Stiles and Derek have been dating for four months, when Derek gets in an accident and loses all his memories from the past year and a half. Now, he’s once again the Derek Stiles used to despise, and even worse, Derek thinks that he still hates Stiles’ guts.

Mr. Hale and the Lumberjack by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 15,407 I Teen)

“Derek,” Stiles whined, draping himself across Erica’s desk. She patted his back comfortingly. “Derek, why doesn’t the lumberjack like me? What can I do to change that?”

“If you’ve opened your mouth around him, that explains everything,” Derek told him coldly. “Maybe try shutting up for once. And standing still. Not breathing would help your cause, too.”

Stiles let out a wail of despair, and everyone quickly moved in to comfort him. Derek scowled, annoyed, and clapped his hands loudly.

“Enough. Back to work. Stiles, get the fuck out of my department.”

“Language,” Stiles chided, pointing one finger at him while still draped across the desk.

Is This Unwise by Innaz (zanni_scaramouche)

(1/1 I 17,819 I Teen)

Derek expects Stiles to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck, but Derek won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Stiles has even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Stiles to fucking drop.

Sweet Buns by skoosiepants

(1/1 I 17,935 I Teen)

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

Or-

The a/b/o bakery au with feelings

Hello, Heartbreaker by astoryaboutwar

(1/1 I 18,472 I Explicit)

It’s a popular joke among Alphas: fuck an Omega, get heartbreak on your hands. Omegas are fragile little emotional things, needy and whiny. Stiles refuses to become that, or to believe that he’s anything like that.

Stiles and Derek have been fuckbuddies for a while when Derek loses his memories of the past three years - and them - in an accident. (Also - everyone’s a werewolf, and everyone’s alive.)

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #alpha/beta/omega

180 notes · View notes

lov3m3darling · 1 year

Text

Apple of my Eye (Obsessed!Wally Darling x Short!Reader) Pt. 1

Some lovesick Wally for ya! Nothing too extreme, he just thinks you're marvelous :3

!!!(TW: obsessive behaviors, eye imagery)!!!

Reader is gn of course! Enjoy!

💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙

Before you moved in, Wally felt his life was mundane. Sure, he had fun and he loved his friends, but it always felt like something was missing.

But when he came outside one day and noticed a new house had popped up, something about it drew him in. Maybe it was the (favorite color) exterior, or the freshly planted flowers in the boxes under your windows...or maybe it was the sweet smell coming from an open window. He recognized it instantly...apples!

Curiously, he approached the window and peeked inside.

And there you were...

Humming a pretty song in your apron as you busied yourself at the stove. And for the very first time, Wally felt somehow warm.

"Um, hello neighbor!" he finally managed to say after watching for a little while.

You jumped a little and turned around to see a pair of black eyes and a blue swirl of hair over the edge of the windowsill. You laughed.

"Oh gosh, you startled me!"

"I-I'm awful sorry..." Wally replied, suddenly a little nervous around you.

"No, that's alright. I just wasn't expecting company. You can come in, if you want"

Excited, he ran around to the front of the house and came inside. Only then did he realize you had been standing on a stool to cook...you were just about the same height as him!

You smiled at him.

"There, now we can meet properly! I'm (y/n)"

(Y/n)...he was positive your name was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He repeated it over and over in his mind, until it dawned on him that you must be waiting to hear his name too.

"I like that name. I am Wally...Wally Darling"

He pointed to the window.

"I live in that red house with the eyes! Their name is Home"

You looked puzzled.

"Your house is alive?"

You looked up to see the pupils in the windows looking right at you.

"Oh! Hello, Home.." you called, waving. One of the window shutters opened and closed a few times, almost like they were waving back. You weren't sure what, but something about Home's eyes made you shiver.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you Wally"

Oh...another gorgeous sound. His name on your lips made him absolutely giddy, and he wasn't sure why. He sighed happily, hearts in his eyes, as you turned back to the skillet on the stove.

"Oh, they're done! Say, Wally...do you like apples?"

He could marry you right now.

"They're my favorite thing!"

"Well, I've just made a little treat from back home you might like then! Ever had them cooked up with cinnamon and sugar?"

You hopped off the stool and showed him. He seemed very curious.

"No, I don't think so. I had a candy apple one time for Halloween and it was very nice...but that doesn't look like apples"

You laughed.

"Well, they're cut into slices. Want some?"

"Yes, I'd like that"

Wally was unsure about trying it, but truthfully, he just wanted more time with you. Something about you was comforting and warm, and you were certainly nice to look at.

You grabbed a blue plate and a (fav color) plate for the two of you and dished it up before sitting down at the kitchen table with him.

Strangely, he seemed to only take a bite when you weren't looking. But you didn't want to be rude by asking about it...maybe he didn't like eating when people were watching.

Meanwhile, Wally was in awe. He never knew apples could be even better than they already were. Where had you been all his life??

The hearts were back in his eyes as he watched you finish your last few bites. You wiped your mouth and smiled at him.

"So, what'd you think Wally?"

There it was again...that warmth.

"Oh, I liked it very much! Um, maybe you could make it again...and...we could have a picnic. After I show you around town, that is..."

Oh golly, where had this confidence come from?! He didn't even mean to ask you out when you asked him that question! The words just tumbled out!

You blinked a few times, blushing slightly, before a smile spread across your face yet again.

"Are...are you asking me on a...date?"

"M-Maybe...would you like that?"

"Maybe I would. Maybe I think you're a cutie"

Aaand he's melted. Absolutely butter. Putty in your hands.

"So...?"

"Yes, Wally, I'd love to. Come by tomorrow and I'll pack us up a picnic basket"

You said your bashful goodbyes and Wally practically floated out the door. He was halfway Home when he realized he had no idea what to do on a date, and his "heart" dropped. Uh oh, he better go see Barnaby.

Meanwhile, you were clearing the plates and noticed the strangest thing...

Wally's fork was still totally clean and unused.

💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙

That's right, MULTIPLE PARTSSS!

I'm doing the best I can with my writing, but things haven't been great for my mental health lately. I thought I had found a place to move but it didn't end up working out and I've been kind of depressed the past few days. But I am starting to feel better! Pulled myself out of it and managed to clean my room and get a shower yesterday so I'd say I'm doing alright. Anyone who struggles with depression knows how hard those little things can be, and if you did a thing today, I'm proud of you! 💙

Anyways, sorry for rambling! More of this story to come! (It IS gonna get obsessive soon, promise)

#wally darling fanfic #wally darling #welcome home fanfic #welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #yandere welcome home

686 notes · View notes

cweampier · 1 year

Note

saw u post something like ‘leon breeder balls’ and i let out the ugliest laugh 😭💀

but like…. I AGREE SO MUCH. mmmmm thinking about pent up leon after a mission and all he wants to do is just unload everything from his breeder balls and into ur needy pussy :(( OR maybe one night ur silly self asked him if u could hold his balls but then u start to gently massage it and it just makes him hard bc he loves it when u touch him… i am going insane over this fuckin pixel help me

SO FUCKING REAL ITS REAL. i believe this one is gonna be on a bit of the longer side, i love him.. a lot. also very fluffy smuts kinda short i’m sowwies.. it’s just pure longing.. sorry i went all out.

after a few grueling days of uncertainty, your boyfriend finally bids you a bountiful hello once he walks through the door. there were always downsides of being so closely acquainted with leon s. kennedy. the several days he’s m.i.a on a mission and you don’t even fucking know if he’s alive kind of downsides and the jesus fucking christ this motherfucker is so damn needy downside.

the moment he walked into that very door of your shared abode, you could just sense the tenseness plaguing the usually easy to breathe in environment of the place. he was dirty, face covered in ash as well as dirt and mud, it was like he was rolling around in a pigs pin the entirety he was in spain. but, those things didn’t come directly out of your mouth, especially not if he’s practically running across the living space to smother you in his arms. “leon—“ you were cut off with his nose nuzzling through the parts of your hair, choosing to bite your tongue as you could tell he was reveling in this moment.

he didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to touch. no spot was neglected kind of touch. you relished in the presence of normalcy as you melted in his embrace, opting to bury your face into his chest as you both sat there, touching. several people were killed for him to be there, and boy was it so fucking worth it. you mustered up enough courage to break the silence, noticing the absence of his sheepskin bomber jacket, expensively crafted with tough leather. it looked perfect on him, at least you thought so.

“forgot something?” you muffled against his hold, you could feel his body respond to your voice somehow as he slowly separated himself from you, it seemed almost impossible. he let out a low chuckle, sucking in a breath before pressing a thumb against your cheek. “can’t say that i didn’t, hadn’t seen that jacket in ages..” he grinned through his admission, visibly bashful. he stared down at you grumpily, pouting like a child just cause you just had to speak up and make him let go of you. you cocked a brow at his direction and he defeatedly averted his gaze. you snickered, advancing farther into both of your’s home to fetch a washcloth, thoroughly wetting it in the kitchen sink before turning back to him.

he followed you, like a dog. who knew that he could become domesticated by a woman. ever since the events of raccoon city, things haven’t been in his favor when it came to his love life, meeting you was like encountering a saint personified into a woman. you motioned for him to sit but he didn’t budge, dumbly standing behind you, practically looming over you ominously. you rolled your eyes, irritated before you directed your attention back towards him like he wanted so badly. “yeees?~” you dragged on, shifting your weight onto your left leg before placing your hand on your hip. “not movin’ till you actually say hello to me, i know you missed me..” he replied, training his eyes onto your lips—he must’ve forgotten how kissable they were. you tutted, shaking your head as he smoothed a hand through his unkept hair. “i missed you baby, you know that.. now please take a seat, i’m trying to help you out here.” you sighed out, observing as he sat down, adjusting in his seat to get comfortable.

you couldn’t help but notice how worn he looked. eyes heavy, the skin barrier of his lips violated by the relentless gnawing at it. he made note of you studying his face, growing a bit insecure, not wanting you to stare and eventually notice something that made you want to leave. “i know, i’m all beat up but at least i’m home, yeah?” he alleviates your concern, your brows furrowing up as you felt your stomach finally settle after the constant churning in it. “i’m glad you’re home, leon… i’ll take care of you. you know i will.” you reminded him, beginning to wipe away the grime from his face, countless hours of slaughter. the rag was covered in filth and dried blood, it told a story. one of courage, you knew his job absolutely was not for the faint of heart. you watched as it took its toll on even him. you noticed a scar cleverly sliced across his left cheek, tracing your fingertips over it.

he flinched. eyes darting towards you as you watched his pupils dilate instinctively. your breath wavered, like a flame of a candle threatened by the harsh winds of a storm. his body was taut, breath laboring as he sat there, attempting to calibrate himself within the comfort of his own home. he grabbed at your hand, pressing it firmly against his cheek with earnest, welcoming your sweet contact as your the two of your’s warmth became adjoin. he missed this, he missed you. each lasting moment he spends with you, it makes it even more difficult to depart from you once he had to be deployed on a mission. he was starved of your attention, and he craved it. he yearned for your acknowledgment, he’d give just about anything for it, intangible or not, he’ll find a fucking way. he leaned into your touch, tranquility washing over him.

“handsome..” you gave his cheek a tender yet reassuring tug, watching a smile stretch across his face. “i hardly recognized you with all that muck on your fa— mh?!” lips eagerly collided with your own, grasping your wrists, guiding them to his neck where he demanded for them to be rested at, old habits die hard. he slipped his tongue past the gates that were your lips, tongue delving into your mouth, as he hoisted you up, allowing your legs to inevitably lock around his waist. he pulled away briefly, only to witness your dazed expression, lips plump and lathered in his saliva. his lips moved feverishly along your neck, adorning it with chaste kisses, ironic to how you two stood with one another.

you let out a strained moan, nimble fingers finding the back of his head, your fingers lacing within the hair present, grabbing at it arbitrarily. his kisses bruised your skin like a vulture tearing at a corpse as it sprawled out motionlessly on the pavement, accepting the inevitability of its fate. he pushed passed the door that lead to your bedroom, left vacant and untouched by him for several hours. it beckoned him with the sounds of floorboards creaking beneath his feet as he staggered heavily through the room, your body flushed against his chest.

he glanced down at his side of the bed, unmade with his clothes discarded carelessly underneath the covers. you refused to sleep elsewhere, finding solace within the sheets as they laid inanimately beneath you as you brooded underneath the light of the moon at nights, even as the sun shone through the curtains. they smelt of him, the textiles smelt of him, not permitting you to ever forget it. he tossed you gently onto the bed as your body clashed against the softness of the foamy mattress, bedding engulfing you, leaving you to carefully watch as leon began taking off his shirt, revealing that very body you spent countless nights musing upon. he assisted you with your own top, discarding of it somewhere you’d probably discover it at days later.

“missed this body.. missed the way it felt in my hands.” he averred, approaching where you laid in an almost predatory gesture. “say you’ll let me take you, baby, please..” he pleaded, thumbing at the waistband of your bottoms. you nodded, further encouraging his downright impulsive behavior. he incapsulated your lips in a kiss backed with passion as he fiddled with his belt, the clanking of the buckle sounding in the confines of your bedroom. he made quick work of it before tugging down his pants, ushering your body to rest against the pillows as he crawled between your legs. he broke the kiss, a string of saliva keeping your lips tethered together. “beautiful,” he echoed you from earlier, eyeing your bra and overall disheveled aesthetic. “shit, did i do that?” he remarks, huffing out a breath, a foxy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

he watched as you fumbled with your pants, swatting your hands away, he shook his head with disapproval, unsatisfied with the idea of you doing any of the work. “god, already tasking yourself with more work? let me, i’ll forever be indebted to you.” he assured, sliding your pants down the fat of your thighs and ultimately the entirety of your legs. he folded them with care beside you, turning his attention to your panties. he hummed, endorsing the presence of your arousal seeping through. “looks like i’m not the only one who’s needed this, huh?” he commented snidely, watching you puff out a breath impatiently.

“hey, hey.. i’m right here,” he cooed, working at your panties as he removed those as well, leaving you bare and ready for what’s to come. he allowed his boxers to pool around his ankles as he pulled you by your hips towards him, closing the gap between you two. he wasted no time as he pushed into you, your pussy greedily claiming the base of his cock, coating it with your fluids. he groaned as he thrusted his head back, gritting his teeth. you whimpered, adjusting to him as he slowly but surely bottomed out inside you. “gonna start movin, mkay? i hear you, baby, i know..” he soothed the ache inside you without fail, staying true to his words as he commenced. the sounds of skin slapping lewdly filled the room, his arm stretching out to grip onto the headboard as he looked down at his cock splitting you open in smitten. you craned your neck to the side, drinking up everything he offered you.

he wasn’t having that, cradling your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, turning your head towards direction. “look at me, wanna see that gorgeous face of yours. feels good, hm? i know, hon…” he fawned over you, disgustingly enamored. he picked up the pace as sweat collected along his brow line. not only did he miss this he needed it. badly. to relinquish his self restraint, for it to topple over on top of you. “missed you s’much, leon.. missed you—hh’missed you..” you babbled on, eyes involuntarily rolling into the back of your head as he slammed his hips against your own. in a fleeting moment, you were one with bliss.

with each thrust, he reminded you of how much he loved you. with each thrust, he drilled it into your skull of how much he yearned for you. “fuck, i wanna cum inside you… wanna give myself a reason not to even think of leaving your side again—mmfh!~” he grunted manically, his hips jerked and convulsed as he embellished the sight, the utter beauty of you beneath him. your bodies moved in a frenzied tandem, your limbs tangling together as he approached sheer ecstasy. “pussy feels so good, ‘t’s so warm.. fuck, don’t stop..” he says mindlessly, as if he wasn’t the one rocking his hips against the flesh of your ass. with one pitched whine, he spilled himself inside you, crushing your face into his chest, heaving as he collected the stray strands of your hair, tucking them behind your hair.

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, panting with purpose. “take me one more time, promise ‘ll take care of you.. always.” he stilled his hips inside you, plugging you up, ensuring that nothing will slip out. the night was still young, and your boyfriend was just getting started. he breathed out a hushed confession of love before sitting upright, slinging both of your legs over his shoulders in a routinely fashion.

#HWNDLALELTMYMR #SORRU WVERYONE I DIED WRITING THIS #there’s more story than smut here actually! sorry for that #lonely night today..#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil 4 #cweampier

1K notes · View notes