#my work from home day tomorrow i am not leaving my bed at all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuugumi · 7 months

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❥ 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: geto suguru has been gone for a week which turns you into a needy mess, he comes home a day earlier and what he walks in on is a surprise in itself!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw, geto suguru smut, asfab anatomy, perv!geto, masturbation (r), oral(r!receiving), prone bone, mating press, geto is a little mean (if u squint), pet names (honey, hun, handsome, baby), breeding, hair pulling, embarrassment, porn with a little plot, idk what else, it's just pure smut, !! 1k850wc !! lowkey rushed ending lololol

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: honestly. if i am being honest. i don't simp for geto but...after writing this and seeing all the geto fics filling my fyp......gorl!! i want him right now!!! once again, reblogs are vry appreciated as it gets my work out there!

"baby i am home." geto calls out as he closes the entrance door. as he unbuttones his jujutsu tech uniform, he hangs it on the coat rack. that's when he realises how dark the house was. it wasn't usual for the house to be dark especially if you were home alone and without you coming out wherever you were made geto suspicious.

taking off his shoes and slowly walking through the hallway he calls you out once more, "baby? where are you?" he shouts once more, making his way to your shared bedroom. the door—barley closed and a glow of linen light shined. as he brought he hand to the doorknob he stopped after hearing noises—noises of someone earning pleasure and the squeak of the bed sounding off.

"mmmm—ye-yes! fuh-fuck s'good baby." he raises an eyebrow, peaking through the crack of the door he sees you. groping yourself with one of your hands as you rufflessly rode one of the many pillows you had to beg for to buy all of the pillows. in your free arm, held a pillow but it wasn't just any pillow. it was his. your head buried into that pillow as you rocked your hips back and forth on the pillow.

"m-m-miss yu' sugu." you whine into the pillow, feeling your end coming close and your body becomes limp. falling onto the bed as you fucked yourself back onto the pillow. geto watches as you get yourself off. unconsciously he palms himself through his baggy pants, watching and listening to your sweet moans.

he knew you were getting close. you become more whiny and begging— for your release and right when you felt you were coming undone, he abruptly pushes the door open— the door hitting the wall, startling you. your head shoots to his direction and immediately you roll over, hiding yourself under the ruffled bedding and he chuckles walking in closer to the bed.

he looks down at the pillow you once were riding and see the huge wet patch and cream you left behind before hiding under the blankets. "damn...the pillows soaked honey. missed me that badly?" he says under his breath, pulling his shirt up and throwing it somewhere in the room.

"you-you're not supposed to be home till tomorrow!" you shout under the duvet covers, voice slightly muffled as he walks over to the other side and flips over the cover. seeing you laying on your chest, face buried in the sheets with sheer embarrassment. "satoru—took matters into his own hands...y'know how impatient he is with the higher-ups..." geto informs, bringing his hands to your bare back, caressing your spine and moving down to your ass. massaging and leaving a few spanks before removing his pants—and climbing on top of you.

his hardened dick rested right between your ass cheeks as he slowly moved. dick grazing in between your cheeks as you shyly bring your head up from the mattress and look back at geto. a meaningful grin plastered on his face, “wanna tell me what you want, hun?” he says, grabbing hold of his dick and slapping the tip over your assets and probing at your soaking entrance.

“fuck me…please. missed you s’much suguru!” you say, kicking your feet against the mattress—anticipating his next moves before you hear a sigh released from his nostrils. “yu’sure you missed me n’ not just my dick?” he laughs, spreading your ass cheeks to gain a view of your pretty pussy. glistening with your slick and seeing your entrance clenching round’ nothing.

“pussy wants it so badly, doesn’t she? tell me how badly she wants me to fuck her.” geto commands, running his index finger down your folds and entering his index finger into your clenching hole. wiggling around, seeing you clench your butt cheeks together. you whine at his touch as he explores your insides, hitting every wall. your feet lifting up, almost hitting his butt.

“words baby—need to hear your report.” he coos, slipping his finger out and running it down your lips once more. “be-been empty without your dick for sooo long…wantin’ you to fuck me for hours.” you swallow your pride and start spewing “nonsense” with a click of geto’s tongue, he snapped his hips into your ass— his dick plunging into you without any warning. you shriek at the sudden plunge and the sudden feeling of his thick and lengthy dick start stretching you out.

“fuckkk!” you moan as you feel his dick twitch against your gummy walls. a shiver down your spine alerts you as geto repositions himself. hands resting at the curvature of the tops of your ass, he pushes down, “lift your ass up a bit.” he says and you comply quickly. “move, please. hurry…” you whine, a pout adorning your face as you look back—geto running his hands up your back and raking his hand through your hair, grabbing a ponytail's worth of hair and forcefully pulling you up towards him. back curving as his mouth found a spot right by your ear.

“you can be a patient girl f’me can’t you? waited all week for this needy pussy, only to come home n’ seein’ you fuck yer’self on my pillow.” he husks into your ear before licking at your ear lobe and snapping his hips up against you. a shriek left your lips as your tongue lolled out. “ye-yes! yes! i can…be your patient girl!” you chanted out, holding your moans back as you scrunched the bedding with your hands as he started pounding into you. ass cheeks jiggling whenever his pelvis met your ass.

“sugu! gonna cum! don’t stop…please!” he hums after hearing you moan into the mattress and his speed doesn’t stop. he goes faster and slides one of his hands underneath you, reaching for your hooded clit— starting to rub at your bundle of nerves. “not gonna stop doncha’ worry sweet girl.” he says, speeding up his pace—the slapping of his balls hitting your ass after every thrust sounded through the bedroom. squelching sounds of your soaking pussy started talking, making geto go feral.

his pace stops at your clit as he feels your walls clench down onto his member, feet kicking at the mattress as you climax. geto not wasting one second, pulls out of you and flips you over. immediately going for your breasts, he attaches his lips to one nipple while the other groaps at the other; flicking and pinching you arch your back. legs wrapping around his waist as one of your hands rake into his long black hair.

“missed you honey.” he says in between every kiss he played from your nipples up your neck and ending on your lips. “missed you more, handsome.” you say, kissing him back; you slip your tongue into his mouth after he let out a groan, sucking on his tongue he ruts his hips up. twitching member drenched in your slick with the mix of his precum sliding up your wet folds. making out with him, your free hand travels down—getting a hold of his penis you try (key word try!!) to insert it in yourself but gets stopped when geto pulls away, slapping your hand away from his cock.

“lemme eat this pussy out first eh? before i cum in you.” is all he says before his head squished between your thighs. his lips suction your sensitive and puffy clit as he pokes his tongue out as he sucks. drawing all sorts of things on the bundles as your hips start to roll on their own. geto wraps his hands around both thighs and holds you down. sloppily licking down your slit, kissing your folds—ultimately giving you an australian kiss that has you seeing stars. “suguruuuuuu!!!” you shout as both of your hands roughly grabbed his hair, forcing his face more into your needy pussy.

geto is sloppy but remains elegant when eating you out. taking his time licking each and every crevice that’s down there. looking up through his tired eyes, seeing you bite down on your bottom lip looking at him with pleading eyes. soon, you’re cumming once more. your cum and juices dripping down his chin as he comes back up. sliding his dick up your folds once more until he reenters. “being so good for me.” he says before smacking one of your tits. you moan as his pace increases, grabbing your thighs and putting your legs on top of his broad shoulders. he kisses your ankles as he pounds into you.

breasts bouncing up and down as your hands grope them, trying to keep your breasts contained as he fucks into you. “ah! har-harder please!” he raises an eyebrow, bending your legs so you’re now in a mating press. his cock hitting every good spot now. laying soft and light kisses on your forehead as he muffles his moans. his tip just barely kissing the opening of your cervix makes you cry in pain but with the soothing effect of pleasure. you caress his face, as he bores into your eyes.

“keep squeezing me-ike’ that, g’nna cum in that sweet pussy.” he says, lifting up away from your face and legs—he pushes your legs more into your stomach and chest region as he starts pounder faster and faster, thrusts becoming sloppy and his lips become twisted within his teeth. “augh—fuckkk, cumming y/N, cumming!” geto whines as he feels his load comes pouring out, flooding your womb with his delicacy.

he’s chanting your name, y/N, y/N, y/N, as he forcefully thrusts a few more times; milking himself into you. he’s breathless, heaving and catching his breath from the feral speed he’d just been at. he chuckled before releasing himself. your legs come undone and you breathe heavily. pushing your pussy walls together to spurt out his cum. a loud pop! sound when both his cum and air blurt out of your filled cunt.

“feels…feels so good to be back home.” geto says, falling on top of you and snuggling into the nook of your neck. "i am glad to have you back...even if you were gone for just a week..." you whisper into his head as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him small squeezes with your hands.

"think we need to buy a new pillow..." shamefully you say, looking up at the white ceiling— geto raises his head from your neck and deadpans you right to your face, "no. we already have like...10 pillows filled on this bed— losing one isn't a big deal.."

"but su&jade just came out with their new gingham pillow and duvet covers!! i...i have to get them..." you pout and he kisses your lips before sighing, "fine...we'll go tomorrow okay? but i am limiting you to two pillows okay?" he brings up his hand and extends his pink finger— your lips puckering when thinking through his deal. wrapping your slim finger around his, "promise." you say before giving him a kiss to lock the deal in...but once you pull away, you wink and stick your tongue out. "i mean it, y/N." geto says sternly and you laugh.

#jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru #getou suguru smut #geto suguru smut #geto x you #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto

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4ngel-inc · 3 months

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｡･:*:･ﾟᰔ 𝓑𝓤𝓝𝓖𝓞 𝓢𝓣𝓡𝓐𝓨 𝓓𝓞𝓖𝓢 — WHEN THEY HURT YOUR FEELINGS

notes — i wrote this for myself & my fellow sensitive bbs :'))

warnings — kinda insecure reader in some, pretty suggestive, a little angst but all with happy endings !!

DAZAI — it hurts your feelings when one of dazai's ex-flings walks up to your table one night when you two are having dinner at your favorite restaurant, "ah- funny seeing you here, osamu. who's the lucky lady?" you glance up when you hear her call him by his first name, and the blood instantly drains from your face—she's absolutely gorgeous. it's clear dazai is only being polite as he offers a bit of small talk before his ex leaves, but she wasn't exactly friendly towards you, and that makes you a little nervous. you ask him about her on the way home, but he doesn't offer much information—"it was just a casual thing, nothing serious, i'm sure she understands." he wraps his arm around your waist tighter, protecting you from the chilly air with his coat wrapped around you, and you start to wonder, what makes you so special that he kept you around? will he grow tired of you as well? you voice your concerns that night before bed, speaking lowly as you're fluffing the pillows, "osamu, what is it you like about me?" he looks offended at that, "darling! what do you mean? i love everything about my sweet angel," he circles the bed, but you step back a little. "stop it, 'samu, i'm not special, why did you pick me?" he looks hurt, but smiles after a moment, pulling you in so he can cradle your face, "i wasn't as awful as you might think, love, i've been a true gentleman to everyone i've dated. and anyways, i didn't choose you, my heart did—i've been yours since the moment we met, i don't know how else to explain it, darling."

CHUUYA — chuuya is always very careful not to hurt your feelings, he's a gentleman in all things, putting your happiness before his own and making sure you feel safe and wanted. truthfully, he's the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, and most times, you're just downright spoiled. however, his work does take up a lot of his time, and though you've assured him you understand, sometimes, you do feel a little lonely. there are a few nights in a row he comes home without kissing you as he walks in, and he simply goes to bed while you're still on the couch watching tv without so much as an "i love you" first. you're really hurt, but you don't want to come off as needy—chuuya already has a lot to deal with at work, so you simply brush it aside. however, after a few more nights of the same thing, you crack. "chuuya?" you whisper as you peek your head into the bedroom. "mmh- yeah?" his voice is sleepy, and you feel a little bad for waking him, but you need to talk this through. "can we talk?" he sits up at that, turning on the beside lamp, "something wrong, princess?" you run your fingers through his hair before speaking, "chu," you sigh, "it really hurts my feelings when you go to bed without so much as a 'goodnight' or even a kiss, am i getting on your nerves lately or something?" his eyes widen, and he pulls you in, crushing you to him as he kisses your hair, "no- no, no, no, no. of course not. i've just been busy, angel, i'm so sorry. i'll call off work tomorrow, we'll spend the whole day together, yeah?" you smile and climb on top of him, "hmm, well, i think we should stay up all night tonight, then, what do you think?"

SIGMA — sigma absolutely hates the idea of hurting your feelings, it's almost like a foreign concept to him. he can't imagine doing anything to hurt you when his greatest goal in life is to simply keep you around for as long as possible, to love you and make you smile every single day—he's still searching for himself, and he wants to do it with you by his side. you just make him feel so warm and happy, he never wants to lose that. however, when you walk up to him one night on the casino floor, he's talking and laughing with a very beautiful woman, and it stings a little—you eye her hand as she slides it down his arm, clearly aiming to grab at his hand before his eyes dart over to you and he pulls away. "babe! what a surprise, i'm so happy to see you!" you don't answer, only eyeing the woman before she scoffs and walks away. "sigma, love, who was that?" you're trying not to let jealousy get the best of you—it's such an ugly feeling, after all. "huh? oh, just a customer. it's her first time here, she just wanted to tell me how much she likes the casino!" sigma really has no idea how beautiful he is, but his humble nature is just one thing you adore about him. he frowns when you don't answer, only watching the woman as she walks away. "babe? something wrong?" he panics a little, but the taste of your lips soothes him when you pull him in for a kiss that's probably much too passionate for others to be seeing. you hum as you pull away, "nothing at all, you just look gorgeous today, i needed a kiss."

FUKUZAWA — fukuzawa actually hurts your feelings a lot, sadly, but he's got the kindest heart in the world, so you never hold it against him for long. he's simply very blunt, so it's easy for you to feel a little dismissed sometimes. in particular, you bring him lunch at work one day, after spending literally hours on a tiny bento containing all of his favorites fashioned in an intricate design. you're so proud of your work, admiring the little details and garnishes that made it entirely worth all of the sweat (and a few tears), you even made his favorite hōjicha tea to bring with it! however, when you reach the floor of his agency and peek your head into his private office, you realize he has company, and whatever meeting he's having looks quite important. "ah, i'm sorry, y/n, you'll have to come back later." he attempts to close the door on you, but your words stop him, "oh! no, that's fine- i just wanted to bring y-" he cuts you off, "whatever it is, we can talk later, y/n. i'm busy right now." he shuts the door before you can respond, and you've never felt more embarrassed. you wander into the ada's main room before setting the lunch on dazai's desk, "dazai-san, could you eat this? i worked really hard on it, i just want someone to enjoy it," your voice breaks as you walk away. when fukuzawa arrives home later that night, he has the empty bentos in his hand, placing them on the table before approaching you on the couch, but you put a hand out to stop him, "just- don't, yukichi." he ignores your words, dropping to his knees and resting his head in your lap, "my angel, please forgive me, i was meeting with the council. let me make you dinner? lunch was excellent, truly, and it was the best tea i've ever tasted."

AKUTAGAWA — ok, akutagawa is a little clueless, so you give him a lot of leeway, but there are just some things he says and does that can't be erased, and that's especially true when he snaps at you one night, "i just want to be alone for a few minutes! is that too much to ask?" you'd followed him into the bedroom when he got home from work, making grabby hands at him, "ryuuuu," you whined, "where are my kisses?" you simply wanted to spend time with him, but now that he's yelled at you, all you want is to be as far away from him as possible. you sleep on the couch that night, even after he's begged you to come to bed, and eventually, you wake up to him sleeping on the floor next to you, not even covered in a blanket, but simply resting his head in the crook of his arm. he doesn't look comfortable at all, and your heart aches a little when he stirs, "babe? you're awake already?" "ryu, how long've you been there?" "i don't know, maybe a few hours? i couldn't sleep without you," he states nonchalantly, not even a hint of shame in his voice. you sigh, tugging on his arm, "come here, do you remember what you said to me?" he frowns, "yes, and i'm deeply sorry, i had a long day at work. i never want to hurt you, i'm just. . ." he looks down at his hands, "i'm still learning. but trust me when i say this, taking space from you is the last thing i want. coming home to you is the best part of my day."

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #akutagawa x reader #fukuzawa x reader #sigma x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #osamu dazai x reader

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moonstruckme · 5 months

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Hi lovely!!! As I mentioned earlier, I apologize again do sending so many asks, I'm sick and stuck at home rn, so my brain has been working on overtime, so if I have an idea and think u might like it, I am sending them lol.

I wanted to know if u could write spencer x bau!reader, where reader is a technical analyst with Penelope for the team. But the last case was a pretty big one and she ended up sacrificing her sleep and needs to Penelope and everyone else could rest? So now that the case is over shes beng kinda stubborn and doesn't really wanna adress it, nor rest till she finishes the few remaining things?

Like always, you don't gotta write anything I request!!! I hope you've had a good week so far and get plenty of rest lol <333

Sincerely, :]

Hi sweetheart! No worries, send as many as you like! I'm just answering them at my own pace :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 876 words

“Hello my favorite genius.” Penelope snags Spencer by his sleeve just as he’s about to step into the elevator, using his momentum to swing him around and start him back the other direction. “I need you to get your ladylove out of my office—” she winces. “Our office. Sorry. Old habits, they do die hard.”

“She’s still here?” Spencer asks, having learned long ago how to bulldoze through the fluff of conversations with Garcia. “I thought she’d be home already.”

“Oh, no,” she says gravely, voice dropping to a whisper as they near the tech room. “I don’t think she’s been there in days. You cannot say anything, but she’s starting to smell.”

Spencer prepares himself for the worst as the door opens, but all he finds is you, cute if a little bedraggled, hunched over your keyboard.

“Hi,” he says tentatively when your glassed-over eyes don’t leave the screen. Your face is awash in blue light, blank but for the determined pinch of your mouth as you work. “Ready to go home?”

“You can’t kick me out,” you say. Spencer blinks in surprise and a bit of hurt at your blunt tone before he realizes you aren’t speaking to him. “You can’t make him kick me out, either. I just have a few things left to do.”

“Very admirable work ethic,” Penelope shoots back, her own voice chipper with a steel edge, “but you’ve done plenty. We can finish this tomorrow.”

You don’t stop typing even for a second. “Go home, Pen.”

She gives Spencer an emphatic, helpless look behind your back, and he nods, signaling for her to go. She backs out of the room with her hands held up in front of her like she’ll need to ward you off, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her.

“Hey.” Freed from the last constraints of professionalism, Spencer slips into his most honeyed tone. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I’ve got a bed and a fridge full of almost-bad takeout waiting for us at home.”

“Just a couple of things left to do,” you mutter, but your tone is considerably less hard than it had been with Penelope.

“There will always be things left to do.” He walks up behind your chair, setting his hands on your shoulders and his chin on your head. You smell a bit stale, a sure tell you’ve been too long in this room, but nothing so bad as Penelope had warned him about. Just day-old you. “I may not know the full scope of things, but I know you’ve been working really hard on this case. You deserve some rest. You need some rest,” he amends. “Let me drive you home.”

Something like longing flickers across your expression, but then it hardens back into resolve. “Thanks, Spence, but I can drive myself once I’m done.”

Spencer decides to switch tactics. Oftentimes, the best way to get you to accept help is to let you think you’re actually helping someone else. He straightens and takes a couple of quick steps back from your desk with your chair in hand, rolling you with him.

“Hey!” you reach for your keyboard, but Spencer’s already swiveling your seat, turning you to face him.

He sets his hands on the armrests. “Sweetheart, I just got off a four hour flight after a three day case. I’d really like to go home, but I’m not leaving here without you.” The divot between your eyebrows takes on a new character, frustration softening into sympathy. “And you haven’t even let me say a real hello.”

A spark of happiness lights your eyes a second before they fall closed, face tipping up in eager anticipation as Spencer dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and lingering, and you rub your lips together self-consciously after it’s over, realizing how chapped they are. Spencer wonders when the last time you drank water was.

“Sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

“You’re not,” he reassures you quickly, wanting you pliant but not guilty. “I mean, I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind waiting for you. But are you ready to go now?”

You cast a hesitant, skeptical look back at your computer, but Spencer smooths his thumb over the inside of your wrist, and you relent. “Yeah, okay. I just have to come back early tomorrow to finish up.”

Spencer hums noncommittally. He was already planning on disabling your alarms after you’re asleep tonight. You need rest more than the higher-ups need your reports. You stand, grabbing your bag from under your desk and letting him shepherd you towards the door.

“Do you think we could order some new takeout?” you ask him.

“Good idea,” he agrees, somewhat relieved. “The stuff in the fridge has chicken in it, I don’t trust that.”

Your laugh is somewhat lighter than usual, exhaustion setting in now that you’re out of your cave, but Spencer relishes the sound regardless. “Yeah, me neither. Pizza?”

“Pizza,” he confirms.

You make it all the way downstairs before your eyes flare and you spin around. “Shit, I think I left the light—”

“Nope.” Spencer takes you by the shoulders, steering you towards his car. “Someone else will take care of it.”

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tooruhearts · 2 years

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they’re in love!! (with you)

→ feat. atsumu miya, oikawa tooru, hinata shoyo, sakusa kiyoomi || genres: fluff

KIYOOMI is late to work. and it's not his fault. no, he didn't sleep in. he didn't forget to turn off the stove. he didn't forget his keys. in fact, he woke up at seven am like he always does. but kiyoomi is late to work and it's because of you.

"baby, one more kiss? the last one," you say, lips already chasing after his.

but kiyoomi puts a hand over your mouth. "you said that twenty kisses ago."

"last one, i promise, please?"

and now you're holding onto his necktie, eyes blinking at him, waiting for him to say yes. but kiyoomi is already ten minutes late to work and he knows that if he caves into you he will be even later. so he opens his mouth, about to say no, but then you kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.

"please?"

god. he can't say no to you.

kiyoomi kisses you, sighing into the kiss. he can feel your smile against his lips. what a little devil, he thinks. but that doesn't matter right now, because your lips feel like heaven and kiyoomi thinks this is paradise. and kiyoomi kisses you again and again and again until you're both breathless.

maybe he should call in sick today.

ATSUMU sometimes gets this overwhelming warm feeling in his chest, a feeling that makes him want to almost cry. and it is times like these, as he’s laying in bed sick with a wet towel on his forehead, as you are holding his hand, that he realizes how grateful he is that you chose him. that you wanted to stay with him.

“babe, i love ya, will leave all my fortune to ya."

“tsumu, stop acting like you're dying. it’s just a cold.”

he snorts at your reply, but the warmth of your fingertips on his palms doesn't stop the tears from appearing in his eyes. he can feel his lips quivering, his face growing red (and not from the fever). so he pulls you closer to him, until your face is pressed into the crook of his neck.

“ya know i love ya, right? i love ya so much,” he whispers in your ear.

"i know tsumu, i love you too."

"even when you make me burnt porridge, i love ya a whole lot."

"yes, yes, you big baby," you giggle, lightly smacking his arm, "my big baby."

the night ends with you kissing atsumu's face over and over again until he stops crying (he stops when he falls asleep).

TOORU knows all good things come to an end eventually. that forever is not a word that lasts, it's not a word that makes sense to him. that one day he will have to let go. but when his arms are tightly wrapped around you as you bask in the afternoon sun, your hair tickling his cheek, he thinks it might make sense after all.

forever is a word that tooru can finally picture and it takes shape in the form of you.

"you smell like me," he says, kissing the top of your head.

"you noticed? i used your shampoo."

"you're also wearing my jersey," he teases, "you like me that much?"

"tooru, you're literally my boyfriend."

he laughs. tooru can't help but tighten his arms around you, still laughing, your face pressed against his. you whine, saying he's crushing you. but tooru keeps you secure in his embrace, kissing your cheeks, your ears, your neck. kissing your lips. and yes, oikawa tooru is your boyfriend. he's yours, forever and more.

"you're soo clingy," you say.

"only for you," he replies.

tooru doesn't think forever is a word that lasts, but if it's with you, he will try. he will try to make it last until his last breath. only for you.

SHOYO thinks you look stunningly beautiful. even now, as your clothes are soaked and you look terribly pissed off because the weather forecast didn't announce it would rain. even now, as your hair clings to your forehead and you're squeezing his hand a tad bit too hard.

"our picnic is ruined.”

"it's fine, we could always go tomorrow! and now we can go home and cuddle."

but that doesn't take away the look of disappointment on your face, or how your body slumps, or how smaller than usual you look. so shoyo pulls you towards him, making you drop the picnic basket, his face a mere inches away from yours.

"dance with me?"

and shoyo doesn't even wait for you to answer before he's twirling you around. hands around your waist, pulling your body each time closer to his, until all he can feel is your warmth instead of the rain soaking his clothes. until all he can feel is your heartbeat.

"shoyo, stop, this is embarrassing!" you say, but you're laughing and laughing with each twirl, with each step.

shoyo thinks you look stunningly beautiful. even now, as your hair clings to your forehead and your clothes are drenched. even now, as the rain pours over both of you and you two are dancing and laughing like mad.

a/n: tooru’s is inspired by the song forever by lee junhyung!!

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she-likesorchids · 8 months

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CADENCE: Part One

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Audio Erotica Reader

Summary: Matt can't wait to get home to listen to your latest audio. He's a loyal subscriber, and you get him worked up like no one else does.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. Mutual masturbation (sort of), pillow humping, dirty talk, some light sacrilege. You know, THE GOOD GOOD. Reminder that you are responsible for what you see once you click "Read More".

Author's Note: I would like to thank the Academy (@bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms and @souliebird) for enabling this. Edited, but not beta read, we die like Ray Nadeem (RIP). ENJOY!

Divider by @saradika

Matt was sitting at his desk going over a deposition when his phone buzzed with a new notification. He had been waiting for word on something specific, so he switched his headphones from his laptop to his phone to see what it was. As soon as he heard the source of the notification, he slammed his laptop shut and started packing up his things to leave. Foggy heard the commotion from his office and came to check on Matt to make sure everything was okay.

“Hey, buddy. You okay?”

“Yeah, Fog. Just feeling a headache coming on. The seasons are changing and you know how that messes with me,” Matt replied as he stuffed his laptop in his bag.

“You want me to walk with you?”

“No, it’s okay, Fog. I can make it just fine.”

“Alright, buddy. But text me when you get home. You know I worry about you and your headaches,” Foggy called out as Matt walked out the door.

“I know, Foggy. But I’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, buddy!”

—--------------------------------------------------

Matt walked home as quickly as he could, resisting the urge to break into a full on sprint. Once he made it to his building, he dashed up the stairs two at a time, and threw off his jacket as soon as he shut his door behind him. He furiously loosened his tie as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and used the voice command to open up the notification once again. This time when he opened it, he was met with the sound of your voice.

“Hey baby, I missed you. Did you miss me?”

Your smooth and sugary voice went straight to his cock, so he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, stepping out of them on his living room floor. He palmed over the bulge in his black boxers and pulled off his tie before going to work unbuttoning his shirt as your voice continued to play through his phone.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I even had to excuse myself from a meeting to go touch myself in the bathroom, but I wished it was your hand. You know just what to do to make me feel good.”

Matt was so caught up in your voice that it took him a moment to realize he was now half naked in his living room, right on display in front of the window. Truthfully, he didn’t care if the neighbors saw him, but he grabbed his phone and went into his bedroom. He placed his phone on the nightstand, shed his boxers, and climbed under his silk sheets.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out as he slowly stroked his cock while you continued to talk.

“Am I turning you on, baby? I can see you’re getting awfully worked up in those dress pants. I’m getting pretty wet, myself. You’re so fucking hot. You wanna watch while I rub my clit?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Make those pretty noises for me,” he replied as if you were in the room with him.

You let out a moan as you rubbed your clit, and Matt swore he could hear how wet you were. He started stroking his cock faster and you moaned louder.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”

“Yes, come for me, sweetheart. Fucking scream for me.”

“But I wanna come with your cock inside me, so I’ll wait for you. I want you to feel me, and I want to feel you. Let’s come together, baby.”

Suddenly his hand wasn’t good enough anymore, so he sat up in the bed and stuffed one of his pillows between his thighs to straddle it. The cool silk of the pillowcase felt like heaven against his achingly hard cock that was dripping with precum and begging for release. He started counting the Hail Mary’s he was going to have to say later for this depraved act in his head, but in the moment, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“You’re so big, baby. Do you think you’ll fit?”

“I’ll go slow, sweetheart, I promise. We can make it fit.”

Matt rolled his hips against the pillow at the same time you let out another moan, and he grabbed onto his headboard for leverage.

“You feel so good, filling me up so perfectly. Fuck me, baby”

“You feel good too. I’ll go slow at first. I want to feel you.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me, I can handle it. Just fuck me, baby. Please.”

“How can I say no when you asked so nicely?” he purred.

He quickened his pace as you continued making soft sounds of pleasure. He should be ashamed of what he’s doing: fucking his pillow while listening to audio porn and responding back to you as if you could hear him. But, he didn’t care. Once he accidentally discovered erotic audios, he couldn’t get enough, and you were his favorite creator. Your voice was like a drug to him, and he was always jonesing for another hit. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually fuck you instead of his pillow, but he would have to settle for this for now.

“Oh, fuck I’m so close. I’m gonna come baby. Are you gonna come too?”

“Fuck. Yeah, sweetheart I’m gonna come.”

“Come inside me.”

You let out a guttural, almost feral moan, and Matt screamed in tandem with you. His thrusts became more erratic, sweat was beading on his forehead, and he was white knuckling the headboard. He was getting closer with every sound you made, and he wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer.

“Oh, OH F-FUCK.”

“Yes, sweetheart. Oh yes, oh FUCK.”

His chest heaved, his breathing was ragged, and his hips stuttered into the pillow as he came hard. He collapsed backward onto the mattress, a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body. “Shit,” he breathed out as he ran one of his hands down his face.

“Did you like that? Be sure to subscribe for more, and don’t be shy about leaving me a comment! Until next time, audiophiles…”

After a few minutes, Matt sat up and reached for his phone to close the app. He knew that pillowcase was ruined, but that could wait. He stood up on shaky legs and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. As much as he loved your voice, and how turned on he got by it, he longed to have you in his bed so he could hold you afterwards, and maybe even join him in the shower.

When he was done washing the post-coital sweat off his body, he dried off and put on a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants, threw the defiled pillowcase in the trash, and sat down to leave you a comment on your latest audio that he got off to. He set his phone back on his nightstand, laid down in bed, and allowed his mind to wander about how you actually felt and how your skin smelled. Maybe one day he could find someone with a voice as gorgeous as yours.

—-----------------------------------------------

The “CLOSED” sign had long since been displayed in the door of the coffee shop, and you were finally done with your closing duties for the evening. Your boss said you were free to go, so you grabbed your bag and your jacket, said your goodbyes, and headed out to your shoebox of an apartment. You loved living in New York City, but it was expensive, and just being a barista didn’t pay the bills. No one knew about your “side hustle”, and you liked it that way. It was oddly empowering to you that you were a caffeine peddler by day, but you used your voice to get people off by night. It was perfect because you could have fun living out your own fantasies, but no one knew your face.

After scarfing down the take out you picked up on your way home, you sat down to check the notifications on your latest audio post. There were always lots of comments to sift through, but there was one username in particular that commented on every single audio you posted, and you always looked forward to their comments.

As you scrolled through the comments, you finally saw the one you were looking for: “rllygdlwyr commented: So hot as always, sweetheart. I ruined a silk pillowcase with this one. May have to start buying them in bulk if you keep this up.”

You laughed and bit your lip at the comment. Normally, subscribers calling you pet names would creep you out, but this one was loyal, and they pretty much paid for your take out habit with their subscription and their tips. As much as you hated to admit it, they kind of kept you going.

Once you were done checking your account and responding to comments, you took a shower, put on some slinky lingerie, and pulled out your favorite toys to make a new audio. According to their username, they were most likely a lawyer, so tonight you decided to try a little roleplay.

“I’m afraid I’m guilty, but is there anything I can do to lessen my sentence? I heard you’re a really good lawyer.”

#mandy writes #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction

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souryoong · 1 year

Text

good for you | myg (18+)

Pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x f!reader

Genre: smut!! (18+ readers only pls), established relationship

Word Count: 2,278

Summary: you've been teasing your boyfriend over text while he's been away in paris for business, and he comes home early to teach you a lesson.

Warnings: mentions of sexting, cunnilingus, fingering, making out, clitoral stimulation, tongue kissing, praise kink, edging, reader gets teary, orgasm denial, hitting it from the back, creampie (god I still hate that word!!). also showering together is henced because after all, they are a couple.

Authors Note: hi guys!!! welcome to my own version of march madness (some watch basketball, I write smut. jk I do like basketball too.) I said it before, but just in case you didn't hear, I am celebrating yoongi's bday as well as my own this month by posting my favorite pisces 2 (or 3? its the aries in me to be a menace) times this month. enjoy the smut and happy birthday to my twin flame, yoongi!!

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Yoongi’s patience with you seemed to always be never ending. Nothing that you did ever seemed to cross the line, and when it did, you knew.

Well, today was one of those days.

Yoongi had been in Paris for work for a few days, and with the time difference, you got bored at night and stayed up late, sending him pictures and videos of yourself. They started off with sending him cute outfits that you bought, and then lingerie. However, he stopped responding when you sent him a video of yourself in the bathtub, making you wonder if you might have taken things a little too far. You didn’t want to interrupt him if he was dealing with important business.

Feeling kind of panicky and unsure what Yoongi was thinking, you eventually went to bed, hoping he would somehow not see it, or completely forget about it.

In the morning, you woke up to a text from Yoongi.

Yoongi: You like teasing me like that don’t you, distracting me from work?

You knew he wasn’t actually mad, he probably did enjoy what you were sending him, but maybe it was a bad time.

You thought for a second, and sent a quick text back to him.

You: Just thinking about you, baby.

Hoping that smoothed things over, you went on with your day. Since the time difference, you weren’t expecting to hear from Yoongi until later on in the night.

Later on, when you were winding down for the night, changing into your pajamas, your boss at work called a zoom meeting, discussing some business endeavors.

Since you were very much not modest — your pajamas were a pair of underwear and a big t shirt, your camera was turned off so no one could see you.

The meeting felt like it was going on for forever, you had one of your AirPods in even though sometimes you felt like you probably weren’t even paying attention. The good thing was is that you probably didn’t have to talk.

You pulled your knees in towards your chest in your chair at your desk, taking a drink from your glass that was next to your computer mouse. Suddenly, you heard a knock, but brushed it off as one of your coworkers making noise. You didn’t look away from your computer screen.

A few seconds later, there was another knock that was slightly louder than before; making you realize it was in the room and not coming from the computer. You looked around the room and was almost in disbelief when you saw Yoongi leaning against the doorway, one of his hands in his pocket of his tan colored suit.

“Yoongi?” You questioned him quickly. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.”

Yoongi stepped towards you. “My manager told me there was an earlier flight, so I left right after my event; hence why I’m so dressed up.”

“Yeah, you look so sexy.” You complimented him as he walked behind you. “What made you decide to leave early?”

That was a stupid question.

“Oh did someone suddenly forget what she did to me?” Yoongi’s large hands were on your shoulders.

You were silent, looking at your computer.

“Hey sweetheart. That was a question.” Yoongi leaned down, his low voice in your ear.

“I forgot about it.” You responded, reaching to rest one of your hands onto his.

“I’m not mad. You can send me whatever you want; you know that.” Yoongi brushed a piece of hair away from his face. “But to send me a video of you in the bathtub, while I’m sitting at a meeting? I had to cover my lap like I’m a goddamn teenager.”

You smirked to yourself at his reaction, not realizing he wasn’t done talking.

“Now I’m in the mood to edge you until you cry. Make you learn your lesson.”

You bit down on your bottom lip. Fuck. You knew Yoongi meant it when he said things like that.

“Yoongi, I —" You started to speak, but you were cut off.

“Hey, looks like someone has a meeting to listen to, right?” You wondered how long he was standing there earlier as he planted a few kisses along your neck, making you close your eyes. He was for sure pushing your buttons as you hummed in response.

“How was Paris?” You tried to distract your mind, at this point you weren’t even paying attention to your meeting.

“It was nice. I think you’d like it. Next time you should go with me.” One of his hands was now on your inner thigh, and you knew for sure that you were probably soaking your panties.

“I think —“ Your words were cut off when Yoongi’s fingers brushed against your clothed clit, making you swallow hard.

He moved one of your legs to rest on top of the desk, giving himself full view of your panties that were in fact soaked.

“Already worked up for me?” It was a stupid question to ask; you always were.

“Yoongi.” You spoke, a neediness in your voice.

He moved your chair back, somewhat startling you. Then he was hovering over you; his face close to yours. He gave you a quick kiss, making your heart flutter.

He slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties. “Lift your hips.” Yoongi suddenly spoke, and you did.

Yoongi pulled down your panties, swearing to himself when he saw how wet you were. Stuffing them in his suit pocket, he turned your chair and got on his knees in front of you.

“Fuck.” Yoongi muttered to himself, putting his hands on your thighs. You felt like you were holding your breath. Trying to focus on your computer screen, but also trying to brace yourself for Yoongi’s tongue or fingers.

Yoongi barely touched your clit with his thumb; making you jump. He pressed harder, moving in slow circles.

You let out a sigh, practically feeling your arousal dripping out of you at this point. Yoongi paused for a second, pulling your hips towards himself so that you were sort of laying back in your chair; and more comfortable. Just as you looked away from Yoongi, you felt him push his middle and ring finger inside of you, pressing against your front wall hard.

You cried out his name, leaning your head back.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Yoongi grunted. “Fuck.” He was right, you could hear the squelching noises from his fingers going in and out of you.

Yoongi didn’t say anything before leaning down and sucking your clit into his mouth; forming a rhythm with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you.

Your body shuddered when his fingers brushed against your sweet spot; and you knew you weren’t going to last long if he kept going like this.

One of your hands was in his long, dark hair; trying to hold him there. You could feel yourself getting close, hanging on the edge of your orgasm.

Until suddenly, Yoongi stopped.

“Yoongi!” You were so frustrated, panting. “What the fuck?”

“Baby.” Yoongi spoke lowly, kissing your inner thigh. “Did I say that you could cum?”

“No.” You sighed, looking towards your computer screen.

“Be good for me.” Yoongi glanced up at you, giving you a look that gave you chills and reminded you that you were practically naked in your home office, while he was still fully clothed.

He suddenly stood up in front of you, removing his tan suit jacket; and then throwing it off to the floor. Yoongi leaned in close, grabbing your jaw and giving you a deep kiss; making you taste your own arousal.

“Can you do that for me?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You answered, even though it didn’t sound very promising. “But Yoongi, I think I might have to talk in this.”

“Then you can talk.” Yoongi pressed three of his fingers against your clit, then in a half of a second they were inside of you again.

Yoongi was going way harder than before; fucking you with his fingers. He stood up, trying to get better leverage. You felt his fingers bump your sweet spot, making you grab onto him; practically begging him not to stop.

“Yoongi, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Your voice was a whine as your walls were clenching his fingers.

On the brink of your second orgasm, you could hear the squelching noise coming from between your legs; realizing that you were probably gushing at this point.

“Yoongi.” You whined, pulling him in for a kiss.

You felt his fingers leave you again, making you let out a sob of a moan against his mouth. At this point you wanted to cry. You wished that your stupid meeting was over and Yoongi was pounding you into your mattress.

“Yoongi, I don’t know if I can take it anymore.” Your voice was shaky as you exhaled.

“I think you can handle more.” Yoongi answered you. He was right, you always liked to push yourself until you found your limit.

You let out a whine when you felt his fingers teasing your entrance again. “Yoongi, please.”

In what seemed like perfect timing; you heard everyone in your meeting saying their goodbyes and wrapping up.

“Alright have a good night everyone, see you Monday morning.”

You watched Yoongi in front of you undoing his belt, and throw it onto the floor with a thud. You quickly unmuted yourself in the meeting to say good bye, then left.

You took out the one AirPod you had in your right ear just in time for Yoongi to grab your chin with one of his hands, kissing you with such a force you thought he’d bruise you.

You grabbed onto his wrist when he simultaneously slipped his tongue into your mouth as his fingers started rubbing your now over sensitive clit.

Yoongi let out a moan into your mouth, making your core clench around nothing.

You broke away from the kiss, his face was still close to yours. Practically aching for him, you whined. “Yoongi, please.”

Swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, Yoongi stood back up, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Go to the couch. With your back towards me.”

As Yoongi’s shirt was discarded onto the floor, you got up out of your chair; your legs feeling like they didn’t belong to yourself at first. The couch was only a few steps away from your chair at your desk.

You put your knees onto the seat of the couch, then leaned your upper body onto the back rest. Never thinking you’d be having sex in your office; you were glad that this couch was surprisingly roomy.

Hearing movement and fabric rustling, you could only assume that Yoongi’s pants were now off. He moved his hand along the small of your back, pushing your t shirt up to expose more of your body to him.

“Fuck.” Yoongi swore as you arched your back, getting ready for him. “Look at you.”

You let out a moan when you felt his cock head against your entrance, and you moved, trying to fuck yourself onto him.

Yoongi grabbed a hold of your hips, keeping you still he pushed himself inside of you; bottoming out in one thrust.

“Fuck!” You let out a moan, your mouth falling open.

Yoongi sucked in a harsh breath. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

You put your knees further apart on the couch in attempts to feel him a little deeper.

“Yoongi, fuck.” You slightly turned, grabbing onto his wrist as he held onto you. “Don’t stop.”

You felt him nudge your g-spot, making your walls abruptly clench around him. You could tell that your orgasm was somewhat close.

Suddenly Yoongi pulled you up so your back was against his chest; the new angle making you feel him so deep it was like he was in your stomach.

Your eyes were watering as you still clutch onto him. “Fuck, Yoongi I’m so close.” Leaning back into him, he planted a few kisses along your shoulder and neck.

Yoongi reached between hour legs with one hand and started to rub your clit, and your legs started to shake underneath you.

Your eyes were getting teary as Yoongi’s pace never faltered. “Yoongi, please.” Your voice was a whine. “Let me cum.”

“Yeah, you wanna cum?” Yoongi’s voice was breathy against your neck.

“Please.” You leaned into him, one of your hands making its way to his dark hair as you craned your neck to kiss him. “Tell me I’m a good girl.”

Yoongi grunted, starting to fuck into you so hard that you fell forwards back onto the couch. “My good girl.” It was almost as if he was enunciating the words with his thrusts.

“Oh god.” The words left your mouth like a sob as your orgasm crashed into you; this time Yoongi doing nothing to stop it. Your body nearly trembling as Yoongi continued fucking into you. “Fuck.”

“Shit.” Yoongi swore under his breath, his hips stuttering before releasing himself inside of you.

“Yoongi.” You whined at the feeling before it was apparent it was running down your inner thigh. You laughed slightly. “My couch.”

“What?” He was panting, then laughed with you. “Sorry, baby.”

You turned to face him. “God, what time is it? I’m exhausted.”

“You’re telling me. I’m jetlagged as fuck right now.”

You looked up at him, both of you were sweaty, fucked out, and exhausted.

“I’m happy you’re home.”

Yoongi smiled at you, pulling you up off of the couch. “Me too, now let’s take a shower and go the fuck to bed.”

______________________________________________

Tags: @dearlyjoonie @thepurpleghost @che-er-ful @thoughtfullysassysublime @yoongiscta @polyparkj

#bts smut #min yoongi smut #suga bts #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #happy yoongi day!!!#souryoong march madness

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 12 - Somnophilia

Soap x Reader - 5.5k (on ao3)

summary: Your doctor offers to help you get home after your lasik eye surgery. (Reader POV & Johnny POV)

cw: noncon sex, drugging, kidnapping, briefly mentioned lasik eye surgery (no description past one mention of a scalpel)

note: tysm to ceil for giving me this idea <3 i did a few google searches on lasik eye surgery and tried to mention the actual feelings as little as possible, and also the drug johnny uses is probably literally impossible but its fic so who cares lol

“And… how long did you say I have to wear these?” You ask, tentatively touching the glasses resting over your eyes.

“Och, not long at all. Just until tonight, then you come in for a check-up tomorrow afternoon and I’ll let you know what other care you’ll need.” Dr. MacTavish replies, big hands adjusting the frames and pushing them up your nose.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are they usually painted like this?” You’d hardly been able to see post lasik-surgery - mostly just big swaths of color - but you feel far more vulnerable with the sunglasses on, their blacked out lenses leaving you entirely in the dark except for the blurry light around the rims.

Your doctor’s laugh is low and comforting, his hand patting you on the shoulder before you hear him moving away. “Of course. Not all optometrists use them, but I’ve found for patients like you they have the best results.”

“Like me?”

“Yes,” another chuckle, and the sounds of what you assume are tools being put away. “Patients who struggle to be good and sit still during their surgery.”

“Ah.” You feel your cheeks go hot in embarrassment. “I really am sorry about that…”

“No need,” he reassures, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You can’t help but jerk a little, the glasses slipping down your nose. “Oops, don’t be losin’ those, bonnie.”

Your cheeks go hot and you have to fight the urge not to reach up and fix them yourself since his hand gets their first. He rights them quickly, then taps the tip of your nose with a finger. “There you go. Let’s keep those where they should be, hm?” He gives the nape of your neck a squeeze, his palm warm and rough, and you do your best to nod without awkwardly dislodging him.

“Now, do you have a ride home?”

You suck your teeth a little at that. You hadn’t known you’d be wearing the dark glasses after - the care plan you and Dr. MacTavish had discussed beforehand had made it seem like you’d be able to ride the bus home, but you’re not comfortable doing that in your blinded state.

“Ah, not right now,” you start, tangling your fingers together in your lap to avoid rubbing at your itchy eyes. “But I can probably call a friend-”

“Nonsense,” Dr. MacTavish dismisses, moving away from you and back to whatever he’d been moving before. “You’re my last patient of the day, how about I give you a ride home?”

“Oh,” you start, startled at his offer. “Oh, that’s… no, that’s alright, Doctor. I’m sure one of my friends could-”

He interrupts you with a tsk, and suddenly there’s a hand at your elbows guiding you up, then just one as he walks you out of the office. “No, that won’t do. We need to get you home and in bed as soon as possible - it’s not good for you to be keeping your eyes open so much after surgery, you know.”

“Oh, really?” You gasp a little, letting him guide you. “Should I be keeping them closed? I don’t want to make anything worse…”

“You’re doing just fine, bonnie, no worries.” The hand on your elbow squeezes as you come to a stop, and you hear the sound of something being written on. “I’ll take good care of you now. C’mon.” What must be a pen is dropped onto what you can only assume is the front counter, and you’re guided forward again. “We’ll have you safe at home in no time.”

Dr. MacTavish’s car is nice - the seats aren’t cracking at all, the air conditioning works to cool the interior quickly, there’s a faint minty smell - but it disconcerts you more than you might’ve expected to be left completely blind in an unfamiliar environment, and with someone you don’t know past a professional relationship.

You give him your address after he buckles you in (you swear his hand brushes your chest, but it doesn’t linger and you don’t want to accuse him of something unfounded just because of a slight touch) and he doesn’t bother to input it into the GPS, tells you he already knows where the neighborhood is.

You haven’t felt so vulnerable in a long time. Even around the edge of the glasses, all you can see are blurs of color, and you feel oddly exposed without the ability to see. Your eyes itch and sting, and it takes conscious effort not to rub the feeling away.

You lift a hand to rub them without even thinking but before it’s even halfway to your face Dr. MacTavish grabs it, pinning it to your thigh and making a low noise of dissent. “No rubbing now, lass, you know the rules.”

The heat creeping up your neck is entirely involuntary, and you tuck your free hand beneath your leg to resist the urge to squirm. “Right, of course, I’m sorry Dr. MacTavish.”

“Johnny, lass, no need for titles off the clock.”

You try to make a vague noise of understanding but end up sounding a bit like a bird, your hand clammy beneath his. He gives you a squeeze, but doesn’t let go. You’d ask him to move but… well, you don’t want to make things awkward when he’s your only way home at the moment and you figure he’s just helping. So you try to relax your fingers, and zone out to the sound of him humming along to the radio.

“Here we are,” he announces eventually, the car slowing to a stop before he turns into your driveway. “Nice neighborhood, hen. Very safe.”

You try to laugh casually and cringe when it just comes off as awkward - you’re unsure how to naviagte small-talk when all you really want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. “I just moved here recently, but it seems to be a pleasant area. I certainly don’t have any complaints.”

Dr. MacTavish - Johnny - hums in response, turning the car off and getting out to come to your side. He unbuckles you quickly and again there’s a little voice in the back of your head that says his hand lingered by your waist for just a few beats too long. But his fingers don’t venture anywhere appropriate, and you tell yourself that you’re seeing something that isn’t really there.

He keeps a hold of your elbow as he guides you up the stairs and into your building. He pauses and then a moment later you hear a ding, and the clear familiar sound of an elevator opening.

“Oh,” you say, shocked as he tugs you forward. “I had no idea the elevator was fixed - it’s been out of order since I moved in.”

“Really?” You hear press a button.

You stand there in silence for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before you feel the elevator start to move.

“Um, Dr Ma- Johnny, what floor did you pick?”

There’s a pause before he answers, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Och, silly me,” Johnny laughs, the sound echoing in the metal walls. “Force of habit, bonnie, I picked my floor in my building. What’s yours?”

You try to laugh it off, but the way his fingers tighten almost imperceptiably against the crook of your elbow has you sounding a bit too stiff. “Four, please.”

“Four,” he hums, and you hear him press another button.

The ride up is a bit awkward, at least from your perspective. Johnny makes no attempt at conversation past the occasional hum along to the music, and you’re a little too on edge to worry about small-talk right now.

Calm down, you insist to yourself. He’s just being polite. Making sure you get home safe. You’ve got to stop seeing the worst in people.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to relax.

There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence when the door opens for the first time, both you and Johnny just waiting for it to close and take you to the proper floor.

The doors are much quicker to open the third time, and you figure Johnny must live on the third or fifth floor in his own building for you to have gotten to your floor so quickly.

“What’s your apartment number, lass?”

You tell him, and his hold loosens slightly against your arm. There’s a part of you - the part still a little cautious for reasons you can’t quite name - that relaxes when the path he takes is familiar. Only a few steps, apartment on the right side of the hall.

“Let me get my keys,” you mumble, tugging your arm away from his and pulling your keychain out of your pocket. You’d opted not to bring a purse to your surgery, thinking you’d be riding the bus home mostly blind, so you’ve got virtually nothing to dig through before offering your keyring up.

They’re taken, you hear the familiar jungling soun, and then you’re being guided into your apartment by a firm hand placed at the small of your back. You can’t help but sigh deeply in relief, the familiarity of your home a comfort when you still feel so unachored without your sight.

“Very cute place you’ve got,” Johnny compliments, a smile audible in his voice.

“Thank you.” You hesitate just a moment before going on, unsure of how to phrase your next sentence. “And thank you for all the help getting home, Doctor, I really do appreciate it.”

A.k.a., I’m safe, you can leave.

“Aye, of course!” Johnny says, sounding almost offended like you were implying he wouldn’t usually take his patients home. Another part of you relaxes - he probably does this for every patient he sees at the end of a workday, you’re certainly nothing special. “Now, let’s get you settled nice and snug in bed, and then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense!” You’re cut off as he drops a heavy hand onto the nape of your neck, ignoring your slightly dramatic flinch and guiding you forward. “I’ve gotten you this far, would be a shame if I left you now and you took a tumble, hm?”

“I think I can get around my own apartment well enough, “ you try to protest, a little huff of offense escaping without your permission.

“Well, now we won’t have to test that theory.”

He moves quickly and just seconds later you’re sort of shoved onto your bed - almost oddly high off the ground, but you chalk it up to the way you stumble onto it.

Johnny scoops your feet up, laughs a little at your yelp and lays you out on the bed. You blink up into the dark glasses, a little gobsmacked at the sudden shift and odd amount of manhandling from the doctor.

“Do you have any pain meds, love? We wouldn’t want you wakin’ up in the middle of the night, all uncomfortable and hurt. Something light, like Advil or Tylenol?”

“Um, yes,” you stutter a bit, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and glancing up at where you hear his voice. “In my bathroom, on the counter. But Dr. MacTav-”

A hand presses into the center of your chest, forcing you back to the bed with a little oof before your hear him walk away. “Johnny, lass! What’ll I have to do to get you to call me the proper name, hm?”

His voice is almost jovial, and you hear him muttering to himself a bit through the open door of your bathroom before he returns. You hear water running for a moment, and then his shoes on the carpet of your bedroom as he comes back.

“Here,” he says as he grasps your hand, holding it palm open and dropping two pills into it. “And you had a spare cup in the bathroom, so you won’t have to swallow dry.”

“Thank… thank you, Doc- Johnny, truly, I appreciate it.”

You swallow dryly, suddenly thankful for the glass of water. The pills are small in your palm, familiar but there’s something in the back of your head screaming at you. You run your fingers over them absentmindidly, the stinging itch in your eyes growing.

Johnny scoops an arm around your shoulders, helping you sit up a bit and guiding the glass to your lips. “Here you are, lass, quick sip.”

You listen, then pop the pills into your mouth and swallow them with the water.

“Good girl,” Johnny hums, his voice vibrating through your side. His hand squeezes the shoulder in his grasp, and you shudder out a breath at the odd… intimacy? That doesn’t quite feel like the right word, but affection feels too distant for how close he holds himself.

You’re guided back down, head resting on a somewhat-flat pillow, and Johnny moves down to the end of the bed to take off your shoes.

Now that you’re resting in bed, it hits you how exhausted you are. The past few days of worrying over your procedure, the actual stress of the surgery itself, and the odd tension you’ve carried since all leave you feeling drained entirely once your head hits the pillow.

“We’ll get these shoes off so you’re nice and comfortable,” you hear Johnny say, his voice a little muffled now that you’re nearly half-asleep already. “Tired, lass?”

You only hum a bit, curling onto your side once both of your shoes are off, the sound of them thudding on the carpet almost silent. Your nose scrunches a bit as you get your first scent of the pillow. It doesn’t quite smell right, the lingering air of shampoo is definitely not one you’re familiar with.

There’s a shift of weight against your back, then a hand stroking over your head.

“Just sleep, bonnie. I’ll watch out for you.”

There’s a part of you, still awake enough, that thinks that isn’t right. But the more major part of you is already asleep.

———————————————————————

Johnny can’t help but smile as he watches you sleep. The little trail of drool dripping from your lips onto his pillow, the soft sounds of your breathing, the twitches to your expression as you dream.

You’re truly adorable. He’d known it as soon as you came for a consultation about the surgery, and every moment spent after has only cemented that in his head. Even the way you tensed and squirmed in his chair while he was working was cute, your desperation to be good and listen overpowering your fear of what he was doing.

He reflects on the day as he gets undressed, folding his clothes on your dresser. You’d been very nervous, and even his most soothing tone and friendly conversation topics hadn’t done much to help. It’s natural - nobody’s ever at ease with a scalpel held over their eye - but he’d still felt a little dissapointed that his presense wasn’t of much help calming you down.

But it’s alright. You’ll learn very soon that you can trust him.

It was easier than he’d expected to get you back to his home. You’re far too trusting, apparently - another reason it’s for the best if he keeps an eye on you - and past some clear tension in your stance, you hadn’t fought him once or even tried to make sure he had taken you to the right place.

Johnny’s certainly not going to complain, though. His plan had been half-baked at best. Honestly if you’d even put up a slight bit of resistance, he probably would have taken you back home - your home - and gone back to the drawing board.

He can’t help but smile a bit. The fact that you hadn’t fought at all is just more proof that this was meant to be.

He climbs over your body, his naked skin brushing against your clothes. You don’t shift at all as he rolls you to your back, your face still relaxed in sleep. His smile grows.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing a hand over your face. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

It’s easy to push your shirt up your stomach. He doesn’t take it off, not quite willing to risk that much movement while the drugs could still be settling in.

God, the way you’d just taken his pills with no hesitation, with just complete and total trust in him to do right by you. It makes his cock stifen against your stomach, the way you’d just listened and trusted him.

He moans as he finally pushes your shirt up to your collarbones, the sight of your tits bringing him to full hardness almost immediately. You’d dressed up for him, soft white lace wrapped around your beautiful chest.

He ducks down to suck a peak into his mouth, tonguing at a nipple through the fabric. He groans a bit at the taste of your skin, muted as it is, and quickly tugs down the cup of the bra to get a real bite of you.

He could lay there at your tits for hours, he just knows it. He kisses his way across your chest, gives your other nipple some love and thumbing at the first with a free hand. He forces his movements to stay soft and slow, resists the urge to bite and leave a ring of teeth marks around your areola.

“Taste so good, baby,” he whispers as he pushes himself up, admiring the shiny spit across your skin. He rubs it in a little, spreading himself across any place his lips hadn’t touched. “Gonna let me get a taste of your pussy too?”

Obviously you don’t respond. Still, Johnny smiles down at you and moves to pet your stomach.

“Yeah, I know you will. Just wanna be a good girl for me, hm?”

Of course you do, he already knows you’ll be good to him - be good for him.

It’s easy to wrap his hands around your waist and flip you gently to your stomach. He guides your head to the side and pulls your hair away to make sure he can get a good view of your pretty face, leans down to give you a soft kiss on the cheek and breathes in the scent of your bodywash and shampoo.

Your pants are easy enough to get off, and he forces himself to tug them all the way off both legs before even looking at your sweet little ass. He’d been staring at any chance he could all day, had kept his eyes glued to your backside for the entire elevator ride up to his apartment when he was sure you couldn’t see his leering.

Now he can’t help but groan aloud when he kneels over your thighs, the sight of you vulnerable and limp beneath him almost too much to handle.

“C’mon, spread your knees for me, lass,” he mutters, slowly moving your legs to the side and moving between them. He’s careful as he props you up onto your knees, folding them beneath you and making sure to balance you with one hand on your hip so you don’t fall to the side.

He’s nearly drooling as he gets his first sight of your core - lips just slightly spread, pretty pink pussy peeking out at him. It’s almost too much, he has to give himself a few quick jerks just to lessen the ache building in his cock.

“Look at you,” he says on a sigh, dipping his head low enough to breathe in your scent. He hikes your hips up a little higher to keep you at the right angle, quickly shushes your little noise of discontent at the shift.

“It’s alright, you’re ok,” he reassures, petting over your hip a few times to calm your unconscious mind. “Just wanna make you feel good, pretty thing. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

He licks you, from clit to ass, to help you calm down a bit more. It works - your body goes a little more limp in his hold, your back arching more easily into the position he wants. He licks you several more times, groaning as he tries to cover every inch of your cunt, tasting every piece of skin he can. He lays his tongue flat at first, then uses the tip to make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

“So good,” he moans, burying his face into your center and just breathing there for a moment. There’s a little bit of slick beginning to drip from your hole, but not much. He licks it up anyway, savoring the taste and promising to feast later.

He stays glued to your clit for a bit, taking the little bud between his lips and running the tip of his tongue over it again and again until he finds the exact spot that makes your thighs twitch, the pattern that has you whining every other breath.

Johnny moves back up, laps at the sweet nectar dripping steadily from you now. Every little flick of his tongue arouses you more, and no matter how long he keeps his mouth on you he knows he’d never run out of your taste.

It’s with only a bit of reluctance that he pulls away. He spreads both of your cheeks with his palms, admiring your two tight little holes and the sheen covering your most sensitive spots. He’d like to give your ass a few smacks, paint it red and watch you squirm, but he’s not sure how much sensation he can give you without pulling you from the drugs’ hold.

Which is also why he tucks a few fingers into your cunt, just to stretch you out. He’d like to fuck into you without any prep at all, watch your pretty face scrunch up as you’re spread on the thickest cock you’d ever taken (and he knows he’s the biggest you’ve had). Maybe you would even cry a little, blink teary eyes up at him and ask him to slow down.

He groans at the image, scissoring his fingers inside of you to prepare you as quickly as he can.

It’s easy to ease himself forward and line his cockhead up with your little hole. He knows another finger would’ve been a kindness, but with how his cock throbs between his legs he’s not sure he’ll make it very long once he’s finally inside of you.

So he taps the tip against your leaking hole, snorts quietly when the thought pops into his head that he’s almost knocking on a door, then slowly lets himself sink inside of your heat. He’s stares transfixed at the way your body opens for him so easily, a smooth coming together that he wishes he never had to look away from.

He keeps a secure grip on your hips, letting gravity do most of the work as his hips push forward steadily. His head rolls back on his neck, mouth hanging open and grunts spilling from his lips as your tight heat envelops him further and further.

He pauses halfway in to take a breather, just so he doesn’t come before his balls even meet your clit. Your body’s grip on him is unlike anything he’s ever felt, and he knos he made the right choice in bringing you home with him.

It’s hard, but Johnny manages to control himself and keep from fucking you too roughly. His thrusts are long and slow if a little extra harsh, and he stares down at your scrunched up little face and imagines all the filthy ways he’ll have you in the coming weeks.

You shift on your knees when he hits a particularly nice spot, little whines pouring from your throat on exhales. His thrusts nearly punch the air from your body, and he finds himself breathing in sync with you as he loses himself more and more to the pleasure.

He slips a hand from your waist to your clit as he gets closer. It would be awfully selfish of him to leave you needy after getting himself off, and he’s not about to deny himself the tight clench of your body as he brings you to climax.

It takes a little bit of trial and error to figure out what feels good for you - he can’t quite discern the difference between a nose scrunch of frustration and one of pleasure - but the steady pumps of his hips and the constant motions against your clit quickly bring you to the edge.

Your cunt tightens deliciously around him as you finally come, but the true beauty is in the way you go absolutely boneless beneath him. He has to firm up his grip on your waist just to keep you from sinking flat on the bed, huffing a laugh as he thrusts just a bit faster, just enough to get himself there too.

He lets his head fall beside yours as the two of you ride out your climaxes together, staring wide-eyed at the way your face relaxes into the pleasure. He leans forward enough to mesh your lips together, messily forcing your mouth open and licking at your tongue.

It’s not the best kiss - he has to do all the work, and he ends up soaking both of your chins in spit - but he relishes in it anyway. Your first kiss together is something he knows he’ll want to remember for years to come.

He hardly notices as he slips from your body, tingles shooting through every nerve leaving him mostly unaware of his body’s functions. He hardly has the energy to make sure he doesn’t crush you beneath him, instead laying beside you and tucking you into his chest.

“Thank you, bonnie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was fantastic. Can’t wait to do it again, maybe you’ll do a bit more next time, yeah?” He laughs a little at his own joke, snuggling you close to him and letting his eyes shut slowly.

———————————————————————

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you wake up next, but you can tell immediately that something isn’t right.

First of all, you’re half naked. And you can tell you’re half naked because your legs are being cradled by someone else’s naked legs. And you know for a fact that you didn’t bring anyone home with you.

Except… it occurs to you slowly as you finally blink stinging eyes open, except you did. Dr. MacTavish brought you home.

And you let him into your apartment. You just handed your keys over to a man you hardly knew, let him guide you right to bed without any sort of fight.

Your head pounds with a vengeance, right behind your already hurting eyes.

You let him give you pills, too. You remember that, though it’s the last thing you remember. He asked where your pain meds were and you didn’t even bother to check that he’d given you what you expected. You just swallowed them with water, like this was a man you could trust.

The slight soreness between your thighs tells you that you couldn’t.

The tears that begin to gather in your eyes hurt, which makes you want to cry even more. You can’t hold back a sniffle, then a hiccup, then what sounds more like sobs than anything else.

You bring your hands up to cover your mouth, briefly recoil and the weight over your torso.

You can’t bring yourself to look, but you know who’s in bed with you.

Johnny wakes up just minutes later, shifting and making a soft sound of confusion. It must not take him long to put the pieces together because it only takes him a few seconds to start cooing, his rough palm cupping your face over your own hands.

“Lass?” He hums, and from your peripheral you see his brows furrow. It’s only a slight comfort that you even can see. “What’s wrong?”

That almost gets a laugh out of you. You nearly choke on the sound, spit catching in your throat. “What’s- what’s wrong?”

He sighs, like he already knows. Of course he knows. He has to know.

“Don’t be upset.” He leans a little closer, and to your horror you feel him press his lips against your forehead. “You can be awake next time, yeah? Then you won’t feel so left out.”

“Left out,” you echo, a strain of horror making its way into your voice.

“But only if you can be good,” he clarifies. “No fighting me now. Just keep being good for me and you can stay awake, alright?”

“Good…” You feel like a robot, but the combination of your headache and the absurdity of your situation leaves you unable to process what’s happening.

It processes much faster when you feel one of his hands slide up the shirt you’re - by some miracle - still wearing. It’s instinctual to jerk up the bed and away when he goes straight for one of your breasts.

“Get- get off me!” Your voice is nearly a shriek, the pitch sending a shock of pain up your skull.

You don’t make it very far in your tiny escape attempt, Johnny quickly hefting himself above you and pinning you down with his weight.

“Now, lass,” he scolds, face set in a frown that you can’t tell is sarcastic or serious. “What did I just say?”

You can’t make yourself speak, fingers trembling beside your head as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“C’mon,” he goads, dropping his weight a little lower. “Just gotta do one thing for me to stay awake, tell me what it was.”

“I’m not-” you gasp a big breath, blinking up at the man above you. “I’m not fucking calming down! Get off of me, you freak, how dare you-”

“Alright!” He nearly shouts, drowning you out. “That’s enough of that. Back to sleep with you, I think. We’ll see if you can handle participating next time.”

He’s leaned to the side before you can really register what he’s said, scooping two little white pills into his palm and coming back over you.

“Open wide,” he taunts, lips curled into a small smirk as he holds his closed fist above your mouth.

Every instinct in you says to scream and shout, to fight back. But he’s got you pinned with your arms stuck between the two of you, unable to lift your hands and cover your mouth, so you clamp your lips as tightly shut as you can to keep him out.

Johnny only sighs, like you’re making his drugging terribly inconvenient. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out his face, praying that you’ll open them and this will all just be a terrible nightmare.

“Really, lass?” He complains, his free hand reaching up to pinch your nose. Without anything to hold him up, you’re nearly crushed beneath his body weight. “Very mature. I can pinch far longer than you can hold your breath, y’know. You’re making this difficult for no good reason.”

Your eyes fly open at that, glaring up at him with what you hope is a scathing look.

He only laughs.

“Very cute,” he hums, rubbing his nose against your cheek. Your chest burns from the lack of air. “I think you’ll be just perfect to keep around the house. You’ll brighten this place in all the right ways, won’t you?”

Your eyes well with tears as black stars begin to dance across your vision. Completely against your own will, your lips part and you suck in a deep breath.

Johnny doesn’t waste any time - you nearly choke on the pills as they fly down your throat with the air you desperately inhale. You nearly choke, hacking with tears streaming from your eyes, but Johnny just holds a hand over your mouth and brings you both up enough to harshly pat your back.

“There you go, you’re ok,” he mumbles in your ear, rubbing the place he’d slapped as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. The pills leave an uncomfortable lump in your throat, and you reach up to rub at it as if that will make it any better.

He stays like that, holding you close, for several long heartbeats.

“Good girl,” he hums, lips pressing to your temple and the sound rumbling through the contact. “I hope you won’t make me do that next time, I’d much rather you be awake for this next part.”

He lays you back slowly, and you distantly wonder what on Earth he’s given you to knock you out so quickly. Already your eyes feel heavier and you’ve hardly swallowed. You try to keep your eyes open as long as possible, which leaves you staring up at Johnny as he hovers above you.

“It’s not the worst thing, though,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek and thumb passing your undereye. “I don’t mind having you like this, soft and sweet for me.”

Your eyes finally flutter shut just as you feel your legs being nudged apart.

#im not 12 hours late you're 12 hours late. and what about it?#john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap cod #soap smut #john mactavish smut #johnny mactavish smut #bo writes #kinktober day 12 #soap mactavish smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #kinktober 2023 #soap x reader #kinktober #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #dark fic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 days

Text

The Man 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You double check the lock on your apartment door. Your paranoia buzzes like a broken radio. You pace around the cramped bachelor, thoughts strewn all around. One moment, you’re desperately trying to figure out what to do next; find a job, go home, call Bre and beg her to take you back. The next, you’re looking out the window, expecting a villain to be waiting outside. Every worry you have strings back to that man...

You manage to settle down enough to browse the scant offerings on Indeed. The work from home opportunities are questionable as you tap more information. Commission based... that’s not going to get you much. You send off a few applications for fast food joints, a quick solution just to you through, but you need something quick. Something today.

You give up and throw your phone. You stare at it as it lays screen down on the other end of the couch. You see it in that man’s hand as he flicks his thumb. Who does he think he is? The real question is, who is he?

You sigh and close your eyes, dragging your hands over your face. The more you think about it, the more it feels you were set up for failure. Why couldn’t Bre just warn you? Why couldn’t she tell you who he was? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

The stale smell of espresso urges you from the couch. You shuffle into the bathroom and start the shower. You strip off your clothes, slightly stiff from the dried coffee. Your skin is sticky too in places and there’s a particularly crusty patch on your chest somehow.

You wash away the caffeine-laced christening. You linger beneath the water and let it slake over you. You lean forward, hands flat on the tile as hot rivulets wash over your back. Your muscles are coiled tightly. The stress of the day and those to come have you tied up like a knot.

When you emerge, you yawn, too exhausted to keep up the existential despair. You stagger into the front room and over to your double bed. You trade the towel for a loose tee and sprawl across the futon. You melt into it and close your eyes.

You’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully.

Or maybe tomorrow will be even worse.

☕

You wake up to the creak of your mail slot and the metallic clunk of it biting down on an paper. You gurgle and roll onto your side, coughing dryly as you rub your forehead. Your head is thick and foggy from sleep. A slightly thrum pulses in your temple.

You hover at the edge of the bed, staring at the door, weighing the distance. You yawn and roll onto your feet. You pad across the apartment and pull the paper free of the flap. You open the trifold letter and your vision clears as the font comes into view.

The building’s letterhead makes you think it’s another notice for the fire alarm test but the bold captials across the top send your heart into panic. NOTICE TO VACATE. What? How? Your rent for the month is paid, plus first and last. How can they evict you? You didn’t do anything.

You look through the peephole. The hallway is empty. Dang.

You rinse your face and brush your teeth hurriedly. You pull on a pair of sweatpants and your slip-on shoes. You check the mirror and shrug. Good enough. You don’t really care right now. You need to figure this out.

You stomp down the flight of stairs to the building office and knock frantically until the door opens. The squat woman inside gives you a death glare. You wave the letter at her.

“I think there’s a mistake,” you say.

She grunts and stares back at you.

“I paid my rent, but this says I have to leave.”

“Lease violation,” she shrugs.

“But what-- I’ve been here only a few weeks? What did I do?”

“Read the letter,” she sniffs.

You furrow your brow and unfold it again. You skim over the words; ‘landlord requires unit for personal use’. Huh? They can do that?

“Personal use? But—But you leased it to me. My deposit--”

“Take it up with a lawyer. All there,” she taps the top of the paper before she swings the door shut in your face.

What the hell? This can’t be real. You’re in a nightmare. You’re not really awake. This is just one of those really deep dreams where you can’t throw a punch. Too bad you can’t throw one in real life either. Hard to test the theory.

You frown and make your way back up to your apartment. You leave the paper on the counter and brew a coffee from the single-serve machine. You hold your head in your hands, elbows on the linoleum, as you try to sort through it all.

The machine grinds and you stand up straight. You take your cup and go to the fridge. You pull out the carton of milk and tip some into your coffee. The chunks that roll out of the spout make you gag. Frig, expired. You dump the whole mug and leave it empty in the sink. Nothing is going right.

You pour out the sour milk and rinse away the putrid scent. You need to get food. You’re out of eggs too. Just a few small things for now. You have to count your pennies.

You put a bra on and pull on a hoodie. You make yourself decent enough to face the public but keep your sweatpants on. You’re just running to the corner store. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys and head out.

Your stroll down to the store is distracted. You should ask a lawyer but you can’t really afford that. You’ll have to try the housing board, see if they offer public services. You don’t really know about all that stuff.

You grab your staples without much attention. Eggs, milk, a loaf of bread, and some sliced cheddar. Grilled cheese for life.

You go to the counter and wait for the cashier to scan the items. You try to tap your card but it declines. You insert instead and put in your pin. Pin accepted, transaction declined. You grimace, face burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry, one sec, I’m gonna just check my account.” You back out of the way of the next customer and pull out your phone.

You sign-in to your banking app. You see the balance you expected. More than enough for your lot but there’s a little red exclamation mark next to the account number. You tap it and a new page opens.

‘Account locked for security purposes. Contact Bank Services.’

Oh my god! What more can go wrong? You tap on the little chat icon in the corner. The automated responses lead you in a circle and tell you to call the toll-free or go into the local branch. Ugh! But you need milk now.

A message blips across the top of your screen. It fades before you can read it. You pull down the menu and stare dumbly at the text sent from a private number, ‘morning, sweet lips.’

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #au #the gray man #the man

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brnesblogposts · 2 months

Text

unspoken love

pairing: Steven Grant x reader

summary: Steven takes away the stress of your day

warnings none! fluffy only

words 750

The door slammed behind you as you stormed into the flat, you didn’t look up, not once. You made a B line to the bathroom and started the shower, hoping the warm water would calm you down. Instead tears streamed down your cheeks as frustration overtook you and all you wanted to do was curl into a ball.

There was a knock at the bathroom door which caught your attention from where you were sitting at the bottom of the shower, knees against your chest.

“Love?” Steven’s sweet voice echoed through the bathroom, you didn’t answer, you felt bad but you did not have the energy to talk right now.

Steven peered his head around the door and his eyebrows furrowed in empathy, you sat at the back of the shower, your knees to your chest as the water ran over your head. He thought of his next move carefully, knowing what you were like when you’d had a bad day at work. He knew you liked your solitude, but he’d decided he wanted to help, to try ease away some of the tension he knew you were holding.

You heard the shower curtain draw back, peering up to see Steven cautiously stepping in the shower. He reached out his hand for you, you took it as he carefully guided you to stand up. You were looking into his eyes and saw the sympathy behind them. He didn’t ask you to speak but you knew getting it off your chest would help subside your anger just a little bit.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, “She was so bad today, Steven.” tears were building up again, Steven leaned down to place gentle kisses on your temples, “I can’t do it anymore, I- I- I need to quit. One of these days i’m gonna lash out and swear at her, she makes me so fucking angry. I don’t deserve to be treated like shit, i’m doing my best, I am!” you started to tremble as the days events replayed in your mind.

“I’m proud of you, I know you’re doing your best and she has no right to treat you like that, you’re not going in tomorrow, neither am I. we’re gonna stay home and watch movies all day, anything you want to do tomorrow, it’s your day.” He placed his hands on the sides of your face as a sweet smile took over his features, then he lent behind you, reaching for your shampoo.

Steven motioned for you to turn around, your back was now facing him as he started to lather shampoo into your hair. Massaging your scalp, you let a sigh of relief out, feeling your muscles and entire body loosen up. You could quite literally feel a weight lift off your shoulders as Steven began massaging the back of your neck, your thoughts too focused on how he was making you feel rather than your horrible boss.

“I love you” is all he said into your ear as he tilted your head back so the shower head could remove the soap from your scalp. He took a loofah and began delicately washing your body with a lavender body wash, scrubbing away your anger and the stressful day you had endured. You had closed your eyes and been so relaxed you hadn’t noticed he’d turned the shower off and grabbed a towel from the hook, wrapping it around you and giving you a hug from behind.

Steven lead you out to the bedroom, pulling out one of his shirts he knows you love, along with a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He dressed you, dried your hair and helped you into bed, climbing in next to you as you laid your head on his chest. Steven’s heartbeat soothed you as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Thank you” you mumbled, any anger you’d felt had been alleviated, “Of course, love.” he spoke as he placed a kiss atop of your head, “Hey, close your eyes and get some rest, i’ll be right here, promise” you could hear the sincerity in his voice and closed your eyes, not before finding his hand and leaving a kiss on his knuckles, as you drifted off he continued to run his hand through your hair, and down your back. Tomorrow you’d make it up to him, Steven was the sweetest and thoughtful man, and you needed to make sure he felt loved too.

———————————————

reblogs appreciated :)

#writerblr #avengers #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x y/n #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant fic #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you

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casualhedonists · 3 months

Text

into the mist, into the clouds

pairing: lucy gray x fem!reader

words: 3.5k

warnings: very few; fluff, angst, mystery and intrigue etc, post tbosas lucy gray

playlist for this fic • main masterlist

a/n: my first non-smut fic on here! title from carolina by taylor swift, which this fic is very much based on. this is one of my favorite things i've written in a very long time. enjoy 🤍

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

“You didn’t see me here.”

Whispered words fill the space between you. Your head rests in her lap, dress crisp and clean and smelling like you, like your home. She looks at you with a sense of urgency, one you’ve seen all too many times before.

“What? Lucy Gray, you’re not…”

She can’t be leaving again. She only just arrived. The morning had brought dew and her muddied boots on your porch for the first time in months. Your mother was gone for the day, it was almost like Lucy Gray had known. Her dress was covered in dirt and grass stains. You piled it into a hamper, washed it in the fresh water of the creek down the hill from your house, scrubbing away while she collected firewood.

“I am. Tomorrow. Dawn.”

“Let me come with you.”

“It’s not safe, my love. I can keep myself protected if I’m alone. I’m startin’ to get real good at it.”

You don’t ask if she’d come back. Neither of you ever know the answer to that.

“Will you do something for me, Lucy Gray?”

Your voice drops. The fire crackles, the pine cones you’d collected together popping as they burn. She likes the sound, she told you. It was safe, comforting. Homely. You’d wondered if she was really talking about the fire, or you, the girl who sat with her in its warmth.

“Anything. You know I will.”

“Would you leave before I wake up? I’m not sure I can say goodbye to you again.”

She smiles, soft and sad, and gazes at you like you’re a song, or something she wants to memorise.

“Of course I will. It’ll be like I never came back here at all.”

The glow of the flames dance across her face.

“I don’t want that.” You whisper. “I hate feeling like you’re slipping away from me.”

She lowers her head to yours, your foreheads touch. You hear the smile in her voice.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You’ve learned not to waste your time in tears, when she’s going to leave. There are better ways to spend those last moments, eyes dry and focused on tracing the lines of her face, committing it to memory for the last time in who knows how long. You sit up, curling into her, pressing your lips to hers, her hair still damp and smelling like the bar of soap you’d lent her when you fixed her a bath, your pruned fingertips massaging her scalp as the water began to cool. You make it to bed, sleeping soundly with her arms around you.

True to her word, she leaves in the morning. Leaving no trace, no proof she was ever there in the first place. But you feel the warmth of the sheets next to you, and you know.

She finds you the next summer.

“Don’t move.”

You freeze, long grass up to your knees, long skirt swishing as you wade through the field, sun blaring down on you.

A pair of warm hands press softly over your eyes.

“You’re back.” You beam, spinning around, taking her head in your hands, eyes shut, just listening to her breathing. You press your lips to hers.

“I sure am.” When you break away to take her in, look at her sunkissed face, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her smile wider. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she got more beautiful every time you saw her.

You lie sun-drunk in the shade of the tall grass, lazing against each other as you go over your birthday, the village gossip, and she listens. Always listening, drinking up your words like she’s parched.

You’ve learned not to ask Lucy Gray where she’s been hiding, you both know it’s safer the less gets said. But she presses on, ever gentle, asking you for details when you fill her in on your life.

You jump at a movement in the grass beside you, but she just laughs. Picks up the snake, humming as it wraps and twists itself around her hand.

“These ones won’t hurt you, darlin’. They’re docile, see? Wouldn’t harm a fly.”

She lifts the snake to you slowly.

“You’re sure?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.” You reply instantly, like you’ve waited your whole life to hear the question.

“Then hold out your hand.”

You reach out.

“Close your eyes.”

You do. After a second, you feel hers, pressing into your palm, and an oddly warm sensation, smooth.

“It feels… dry.”

You open your eyes. The snake twists and drapes between the two of you, loosely binding your hand with Lucy Gray’s, holding you together.

She laughs, bright and sweet, like music.

“Well, what were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.” You confess. “Maybe for it to be wet? Slippery?”

Her laughter chimes through the field, a low gust of winding carrying it away. You stay like that for a few more hours, until night begins to fall, and the summer wind carries her away, too.

A year passes. Then another half.

Your mother gets older; she gets sick. You venture outside the bounds in twelve, slipping under the rusted wire fence with a basket, collecting herbs you’d started to read about but couldn’t afford. You make tinctures, teas, you light incense and fill the house with sprigs of rosemary and thyme. It slows down the sickness that tore through her like wildfire. When she passes, it’s beautifully peaceful, like a candle being blown out. You carry her ashes to the lake and you spread them, lingering by the Covey’s cabin. Hoping.

She doesn’t come. You walk home, humming something you think you remember her singing years ago. You start to wonder if she was just something you dreamt up, an old folk song you sing to yourself each night before you fell asleep.

Spring rolls around, and your empty house gathers dust. Your way with herbs and remedies gets around, starting with a few bottles gifted to a neighbour with influenza. Her granddaughter comes to your doorstep with the empty vial and a bag of potatoes. You smile and thank her.

“Are you a witch?” She asks, barely ten years old and looking up at you with dark, mistrusting eyes. You laugh.

“I’m not too sure about that, hon. Did the herbs help?”

She nods, a frown etched along her features.

“Then perhaps I’m a good one.”

Before you know it, word gets around that you cured the old woman. You make a living collecting herbs, crushing them down, and people line up outside your door most days. You find a slice of peace in it, in the routine.

But winter is cruel, and the house turns cold. The house that was once the perfect size for you and your mother now feels like too much money and work to heat, and things start breaking, and leaking. You hear from your cousin in Seven, you’ve inherited a log cabin and a slice of land on the edge of some woods from a great-aunt you never met.

You weigh your options. You go to the lake and skim stones in the icy water, mulling it over.

To leave Twelve is everyone’s dream. But Lucy Gray. The gentle ghost who lingers over your shoulder. How will she find you, if she ever comes back? You can’t stay here waiting forever. One bad frost kills your crops, the chill sets into your bones, and you make up your mind. You pack up your herbs and bottles, your books and your clothes, the pinecone you keep beneath your pillow, the silver snake bracelet she gave you many years ago, and you leave. A simple, smudged note sits under the plant pot on the porch, your old hiding place for the spare house key where she’ll know to look:

I’m in the trees. Come find me.

District Seven has more trees than you’ve ever seen. Twelve is known for it’s forests and fields, but these woods are expansive, spanning over miles, trees lined up perfectly, the smell of freshly chopped wood filling your senses.

Every step you took made you wonder if Lucy Gray been here, if the birds in these trees had heard her saccharine voice.

Your herbs sell a lot better in Seven. It’s enough to buy new clothes, and the village is better kept. The people are kind, warm and friendly. You can finally afford to eat your fill. Your cabin at the edge of the woods stays warm and comfortable, the wood is plentiful, you chop your own from the land that’s now yours.

Sometimes when your head spins from the weight of the axe you see movement in the woods, and you wonder. Sometimes you peer inside, certain that it’s her. But she feels so far away from you now, that you can’t help but feel you’ve abandoned her.

You take walks through the forests; you whistle to the birds and listen for the ones who might sing back. You hear nothing. One day, in the town, you walk by a window display with an old, beat-up guitar. It looks well-loved, and something draws you to it. Faded gold paint around the sound hole, strings messy but you go inside and barter, and take it home with you.

You hum some of the old songs she used to sing, try to piece together chords on the strings that aren’t snapped. It sounds like a mess but you play anyway. It feels like a piece of her that you want to keep close to you. You’ve learned to become a collector of sorts.

You’re kept warm through winter, and spring fades into summer. You take the little fishing boat that came with the cabin out on the river, and hike through the forest. You take your guitar with you, and one day, finally, you hear it.

A mockingjay.

It sings your broken tune back to you, bouncing through the pines. A smooth voice cuts through the birdsong.

“Did you miss me?”

Lucy Gray.

Your head spins around. And there she is, smiling, and you fall into her arms.

“I was so scared. I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I know. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I would either.”

“But you’re here, you found me! My note, I didn’t know if…”

“The trees.” She grins. “District Seven. It made perfect sense, my love.”

“I can’t believe you’re here. Lucy Gray, you don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

“Oh, I think I do. If you think for a second you’re alone in that, you couldn’t be more wrong. Now,” she adds, nodding at the guitar, “what do we have here?”

You take her onto the river, safer in Seven than you’d ever been in Twelve. She watches as you grind up lavender, the smell filling up the cabin, fascinated as you explain the hobby that you’d turned into work. She fixes your guitar strings, teaches you some simple chords. You sit on the porch, playing while she sings.

“It suits you here, you know.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” She pauses. “I was so sorry to hear about your ma. She was a good woman. She was always kind to me. To everyone.”

“Thank you. I’m okay now, really. I like it here. It’s quiet, peaceful. I think that’s what she’d want for me.”

When she stares up at the sky, birds soaring up above, the rush of the wind through the trees, you can’t help but ask. This is all so perfect, and after so long you can’t bear the thought of her leaving again.

“Do you know how long…”

She smiles.

“Maybe a day or two? If that’s okay.”

You can’t hide your grin. You nod, and she glances up at you.

“Of course that’s okay. More than okay.”

Her fingers press over yours as she demonstrates a final chord. She sits behind you as you strum, grinning at her, head spinning around and she’s so close, it’s almost surreal.

“You did it!” She’s beautiful. Vivid like a daydream, all technicolor.

“That’s all of it?”

“That’s all of it. Just play those four over again and you’ve got yourself a song.”

Your fingers intertwine, hand slipping from the guitar.

“Thank you for teaching me.” You whisper with a smile.

“You’ll remember it, won’t you?” There’s a solemness to it.

You frown.

“Of course I will. I’ll practice all the time.”

“You promise?” Her voice is desperate.

You slide the guitar to the floor and take her hand in yours, clasping it to your chest. Eyes making a silent oath.

“I won’t forget, Lucy Gray. I promise you.”

She nods, corners of her mouth turning up into a smile. You sigh.

“You know I’ve kept everything, don’t you? All of it. Everything I have that reminds me of you.”

“I saw the pinecone on the mantelpiece. Was that from-”

“The time we made the fire in 12? Yeah.”

She lights up.

“You’re such a romantic. I love it. You-”

Your lips press to hers, suddenly overcome with emotion. When you pull away, she sees the tears on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” You cry. “I really didn’t, and… I don’t want you to leave, I-”

Her wide eyes fill with apology.

“I know. I wish I didn’t have to leave, sugar. I’m sorry it took me so long this time. I wish I could tell you how much it hurts to be away. It feels like I never really rest, until I’m back with you. Does that make sense?”

You nod, blinking away your tears.

“Will you do something for me, my love?” She presses, soft hands brushing away your tears.

“Anything.”

“Until tomorrow, can we pretend I’m not leaving? Pretend like this is our normal. Like we’ve got all the time in the world.”

You close your eyes, then look at her again, just as quickly, not wanting to waste a precious second.

“All the time in the world.” You whisper back.

True to your word, you make the most of it. She leaves you the next morning. You say a proper goodbye this time, holding her like you’ll never let go. But you do.

Weeks stretch on and you can feel her slipping away again. The birds ease the pain, singing her pretty melodies back to you, like a worn-out record you’ve played on repeat. You throw the windows and doors open, filling the house with summer’s balmy air and the sound of her voice bouncing through the rooms as if she was still there. But soon enough, they forget her dulcet notes, and you’re alone with yourself again.

You track the time through seasons, like you always have. The summer draws to a bittersweet close, and you miss it before it’s fully gone.

You slip back into your routine. You take the boat out alone. The schoolchildren sneak up to your door at times, you hear them whispering. The witch rumours are back in full swing but you don’t mind them. You think it rather suits you. You open the door, much to their horror, and offer them some cookies. They come dutifully back for more on Saturdays, and you appreciate the bit of company.

You keep your promise, and it keeps her alive. You practice the chords she taught you, rough calluses starting to form on your fingers. You trace them at night when the world gets too quiet, and as winter closes in again it gets quieter still. The birds fly away to escape the cold, and you wonder if out there somewhere, she might see them. You find yourself praying the winter isn’t being too cruel to her, wherever she is.

One day, at the market, you’re sat at your stall selling chamomile and sage tea, and you hear her name, like a question in someone’s voice. They remember. They remember her. Your heart swells. You want to scream at the top of your lungs, it’s her. She is the girl you love.

She appears more and more in your dreams, some nights you’re restless, dreaming of her scared, running from something in a dark forest, sometimes you’re there by her side. Other times you wake with a start thinking she’s knocking at your door. You sprint outside into the darkness, barefoot on the damp grass, turning in circles before you catch your breath.

You could make yourself some valerian root tea as a remedy, but you don’t. You don’t mind her living on through your dreams. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

You’re comforted by this haunting.

She finds you again. She always does.

“I saw the Covey a few months ago.” You tell her, the first night you spend together, lay in your bed, arms and legs a tangled mess, her hand in your hair.

Her eyes light up.

“Did you really? Close to here?”

You nod.

“They weren’t here for long. I’m not sure they recognised me, I was at the back of the room. It was pretty dark.”

Her eyes are wistful, filled with something you think you understand now.

“It all feels like so long ago, doesn’t it? I forget sometimes, just how long it’s been.” She looks to the floor. “And Maude Ivory – was she there? How’d she look?”

“She was.” You grin. “She looked happy. Healthy. She was smiling and dancing the whole night, like she always used to.”

You pause for a second, wondering if you should go back, mention that she, much like you, must still have an emptiness, a gap in her life even after all these years, but it’s like Lucy Gray reads your mind. Always one step ahead.

“That’s good.” She says decidedly. “It’s all I ever wanted for her. To be happy. Free. Thank you for telling me. I… I think about them a lot. About all of it. But I always hoped they’d move on without me.”

You’re quiet when you speak again.

“Lucy Gray, I don’t think anyone could ever move on from you.”

It lingers in the air. You speak up again.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course you can.”

“When I saw them that night, I stayed for the whole set, because… well, it’s silly,” you confess, “I couldn’t stop watching. I kept thinking that you’d show up. Like they’d just announce your name and they’d all cheer like they did in Twelve. Like you would get up there and sing, and see me in the crowd, and just… smile. Like you’d asked me to be there that night.”

It’s back again, that wistful look of hers.

“I sure wish I had been, sugar. But I think I’d rather be here with you than up on that stage, these days.”

Warmth fills your chest. “Yeah?”

She takes a breath.

“It’s important that people forget me. It’s safer this way. I don’t know what they’d do if they found me, but I know for certain I don’t plan to find out. Maybe one day… well, we’ll have to see. But for now, I could stay a little longer. Would that be okay? If I stayed until the week ends?”

Stay forever, you want to say. But you nod, holding her like she’s already gone.

When she leaves, it’s too soon. Always too soon. You stand in front of the cabin, wishing you could mold your hand around hers and never let go. You kiss her goodbye.

“You didn’t see me here.” She whispers against your lips.

“Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” You respond, and her lips turn into a half-smile.

“Now. Close your eyes.”

You press them shut, feeling her hands slip from yours. When you open them, she’s gone again.

As the years go by, you stop hearing the name Lucy Gray altogether. She starts to feel more like a folk tale; a messy, ink splashed cursive on old parchment. You yearn to speak of her, to keep her legacy alive, but you can’t. You don’t. You remember, though. The world could forget about Lucy Gray Baird, but your memory of her lived on like a still-beating heart, and in turn it kept her alive. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t keep you alive, too.

You make quite the name for yourself, your apothecary bringing in customers from across Seven, sometimes further. So much so, that sometimes you wonder if when she passes through Twelve or Seven, she hears about you and remembers, counting down the days until she gets to come home.

She still haunts your dreams, slipping away as soon as you wake up. But she’ll come back. No matter how many times she leaves. Wherever you go, she’ll find you. She could go anywhere in the world, but she’ll always come back home to you. And you’ll be waiting for her, even if the world curses her name, even if the Covey forgets her too. You understand now. She’s as much yours as you are hers. And when she comes home, it’ll always feel like she never left. And that’s enough for you. It was always enough.

You leave your porch light on.

taglist: (i'm just gonna tag people who showed interest in the excerpt/might like this!) @etfrin @darby-rowe @ohstardew @ohmeadows @sabrinasbd @ctrlovertheworld

#mimi writes! 🕊️#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray x you #lucy gray baird x you #the hunger games x reader #tbosas x reader #thg tbosas #the hunger games fanfiction #x reader #x you #x you fluff #x you angst #reader insert #itmitc

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little-diable · 2 months

Text

Don't Break my Heart, Cowboy - Jasper Hale (smut)

Since y'all loved my other Cowboy!Jasper fic so much, I wanted to share another one with you. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader works at a ranch with a few other cowboys, but with one she instantly clicked, finding herself drawn to him and his mysterious aura.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, public piv, somewhat outdoor piv, dom!Jasper, rough Jasper, degrading

Pairing: Cowboy!Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.2k words)

With her eyes closed and her face turned towards the blue sky, (y/n) allowed her horse to guide her, to follow the others as she relaxed for just a moment. They had been riding for the past hours, needing to make it to their summer camp before the sun went down, needing to set up their tents before darkness could engulf them. But even though they were working on a tight schedule, the group didn’t give in to the need to hurry, enjoying the rough nature they made it through.

“You alright, darlin’?” Jasper’s words forced her eyes open, having to blink a few times to adjust to the sun’s brightness. For a moment, her eyes wandered over his handsome features, the pale skin, the golden eyes, and those blonde roots she so desperately wanted to tug on. She always had it bad for Jasper, the handsome cowboy who had instantly taken a liking to her, treating her like one of them from day one.

“I am, just felt the need to soak this all up before having to work again tomorrow.” Their shared chuckles caught up with the other four cowboys who were riding ahead of them, momentarily turning back towards the two.

“We don’t have any time for flirting, you two lovebirds.” She rolled her eyes at them, sat up straighter and reached for her reins. With a challenging look shot at Jasper, she pressed her heel into her horse’s side. (Y/n) raced past the others, smirking as they called for her, trying to catch up with the laughing woman.

The wind stroked her limbs, cosying her along as they raced through meadows, along the trail that’d take them to the spot where they were supposed to set up camp. It was an area she had never been to before, an area so calm, (y/n) feared she never would want to leave again. This felt like heaven on earth, a piece of the Garden of Eden, a piece so untouched she didn’t even want to trod through the land stretching ahead.

“Last to arrive at camp has to do the dishes!” With another laugh bubbling out of her, she watched Emmet race past her, not looking back once. And with her eyes set ahead, (y/n) got to racing once again, set on making it to camp first.

……

“Isn’t it astonishing that he tried to race us but still arrived last?” Jasper murmured his words, eyes set on his brother as (y/n) chuckled into her cup. They had arrived a while ago and had instantly set up the camp, helping one another with the tents they’d have to share, starting the fire, and cooking dinner. It felt like a family adventure, spending time with the people you adore, people you want to spend most of your time with.

“I’m pretty sure his ego got quite the blow from it.” Her eyes met his, no longer golden though a darker shade. By now (y/n) was all too used to watching his eye colour change, and yet she was still fascinated by the richness of his pupils, no matter the light. They told stories so old, (y/n) feared she’d uncover secrets she could never forget again.

It was a dangerous line she was walking, falling for a cowboy who would always love his horse and his work more than any woman to warm his bed. But she had never been one for backing away from a challenge.

“Where did you learn to ride like that?” The interest swimming in his pupils left her heart skipping beats, not used to being around men who were as interested in her. (Y/n) had to avert her gaze, focusing on the fire that warmed their limbs as the evening grew colder by the minute.

“We had horses back home, it was pretty much the only thing I enjoyed doing.” A melancholic sensation flushed through her as (y/n) thought of her home, of the horses she had grown up with. It was a bittersweet feeling, torn between being homesick and enjoying the free feeling she had never gotten to experience like at this very ranch.

“I think you can certainly teach us another thing or two with that speed you got, darlin’.” He bumped his shoulder with hers, drawing a soft chuckle from (y/n). Before she could even try to reply, voice shaking from the unfamiliar sensation his closeness still pushed through her, the others gained her attention.

“Before we get to drinking, who will share a tent with who?” Out of the corner of her eye, (y/n) watched Jasper study her, seemingly not paying attention to the cowboy who had spoken up. It seemed as if he was debating something, letting a few seconds pass, before he slowly moved closer to (y/n). A giddy feeling pushed through her veins, forcing her teeth into her lower lip to stop herself from making any sounds.

She didn’t focus on the bickering of the others as her gaze finally met Jasper’s, unable to bite down her smile at the way he was looking at her. Something was swimming in his pupils, something she couldn’t pinpoint, and yet she was awfully excited, wondering how the upcoming weeks would play out.

“(Y/n) and I will share.” Jasper had spoken up without ripping his gaze from her features. His words left her heart freezing, wondering where he was going with this.

“Well, we already knew that, didn’t we? We wouldn’t dare steal your girl, brother.” (Y/n) didn’t find any strength to roll her eyes at Emmet, purely focused on being called “his girl”. It had been a long time since she had last found herself drawn to a man, but Jasper was everything her heart was calling out for, hoping that he wasn’t the one to break her heart.

Jasper’s tongue ran along his lips, forcing her gaze towards his mouth for just a second – a second he clearly picked up on. Without knowing what her body was doing, she suddenly rose to her feet, murmuring a small “Excuse me” before leaving Jasper behind. (Y/n) was desperate for a second to breathe, overwhelmed by Jasper’s forwardness and the teasing of the others.

She walked through the meadow towards the horses, smiling as she came to a halt near them. Deep exhales left her stretched lungs, letting her eyes flutter close for a moment or two. She tried to focus on her surroundings, on the sounds echoing through the evening, the feeling of the warm breeze teasing her, the scents hanging in the air. But all she could truly focus on, was the way her body warned her that somebody was close; no, not just somebody – Jasper.

“Everything alright?” She felt him next to her, allowing her to stand still for a little longer before opening her eyes. (Y/n) stared up at him with a soft smile, wondering what he was about to say, if he was about to say something at all. But all Jasper did was turn towards her, hand cupping her cheek as he waited for her to pull away.

“Jasper,” (y/n) murmured his name, drawing a hum from him. “Kiss me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, his lips found hers without another warning. Jasper’s cold hands drew her closer, placed on her neck and waist, holding her against his strong chest as their lips moved in sync. The small moan leaving (y/n) seemed to encourage him only further, allowing his tongue to move along her lower lip.

The kiss grew heated, fiery as the flames that had danced near them only a few minutes ago, demanding as the beat of their hearts that needed and wanted even more. (Y/n) finally got the chance to tug on his blonde roots, a movement that left Jasper groaning. Heat pooled between her thighs at the sounds he was making, silently praying that the night wouldn’t end with just a kiss.

“You’ll be the death of me, darlin’,” Jasper whispered against her swollen lips, staring down at her with love swimming in his pupils.

“Not before you make me yours.”

……

“Gotta be quiet, can you do that for me?” His raspy words rang in her ears. (Y/n) found herself kneeling, hands fisting the fabric of their big sleeping bag. He had made quick work of their clothes the second he had pushed her into their tent, needing to give into their longings for one another.

“Yes, I promise.” Desperation dripped from her words, begging Jasper to finally give in. He was positioned behind her, not giving her a chance to pick up on the wide smirk glued to his lips. His cold fingers found her core, leaving her to jerk in surprise at the new sensation, struggling to stop herself from speaking up.

Jasper didn’t take his time with her, he didn’t move slow, no, he was focused on making her tremble, on preparing her for his cock. Her bundle of nerves pulsed against his fingers, begging him for more, to push her closer and closer to the edge.

“I can’t wait to sink my cock into your perfect pussy, I bet you will feel so tight around me.” A whimper managed to leave (y/n) at his words, hoping that he’d finally fuck her like she had hoped he would for weeks on end. She heard him spit into his palm, heard him shuffle around as he pulled his hand from her. “And you’ll take me like the good slut you are, won’t you?”

She got no chance to reply to his words, eyes forced shut and lips pressed together at the feeling of his cock pushing into her. Her walls fluttered around him, desperately trying to adjust to his girth as Jasper held still, giving her a handful of seconds. But the moment he pulled back, only to push back in with more force, he turned into a ruthless form of himself, set on fucking her till she was close to passing out.

(Y/n) knew that she’d wake with bruises littering her body, she knew that she’d struggle with walking for a while, and yet she couldn’t care about anything but the feeling of Jasper fucking her, making her feel like she had never felt before. He held her fate in his hands, the one to decide over the outcome of this very night, but also of their time together, the one to wield the sword when the time was right. And she’d blindly trust him, following him wherever his path may take him.

“Oh fuck, Jas’.” (Y/n)’s whispered words left him chuckling, and yet the sound didn’t carry any humour, no, it dripped with something dangerous. Within seconds he had forced her off the floor, pressed to his naked, muscular chest. She didn’t anticipate his hand finding her mouth, choked on her surprised gasps as he forced two fingers down on her tongue, leaving (y/n) trembling in his grasp.

“I told you to be quiet, didn’t I?” A hum left her while tears ran down her cheeks, dripping onto the ground as Jasper kept fucking her, ruthlessly taking what he was needy for. She knew that she couldn’t drag this out much longer, knew that she’d cum way too soon, but she couldn’t care about that, could only care about the way he was fucking her. “Touch yourself for me, darlin’.”

Her shaky fingers found her clit, hastinly circling it to push her over the edge. She kept on trembling, kept on humming around his fingers as her walls clenched his cock. Jasper’s pace didn’t falter, stuck on the fast pace that pushed her into another dimension as she came.

The white, hot sensation flushed through her, leaving her breathless as Jasper kept fucking her, not backing down. Her orgasm had a tight grasp on her, longer than ever before, all because of the groaning man who was about to give in, set on imprinting himself on her walls. And with a simple “Fuck” leaving Jasper, he came, holding onto (y/n) till his orgasm passed.

Both were panting, only slowly letting go of one another as their bodies relaxed. (Y/n) plopped down on the ground with Jasper following moments later. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, only staring at one another with smiles glued to their lips.

“I hope you know that I won’t let you out of my sight ever again.” Jasper’s words left her chuckling, forcing her closer as her lips found his, pressing a soft kiss against them.

“As long as you don’t break my heart, cowboy.”

#Jasper Hale smut #Jasper Hale x reader #Jasper Hale imagine #twilight

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bloodyymaryyy · 2 months

Note

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife baker!reader where he's picking her up from work when it’s getting late, and taking a night walk/enjoying the stars? I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like to it. Thanks :))

Late night walks

Toto wolff x reader

Warnings : none

Working and having a bakery owed by you is hard, waking up at 5 in the morning to prepare everything for the day, start baking the sweets, the pastries, the breads and the cakes everyone is asking for all day when your employee Mary, as sweet middle aged woman turned the sign around indicating that the bakery is open to take customers until eight at night where you turn it back around.

Today was no different to any other, bakind everything needed to be baked and going to the front to make the display filling the spots of the already bought pastries.

Around ten am the people coming in are less than the early morning, everyone going to their jobs, at schools or sitting at the tables around the bakery where some people mostly teenagers or young adults sitting down with a cup of whatever they are drinking and an empty plate where a pastry was placed, laptops on the tables the outside tables with an ashtray and packets of cigarettes or vapes. The atmosphere was calm, fun with music playing sofly in the background, laughter and a buzzing from the soft chatter all around the shop.

Today you left your husband at home, he didn't have work to do it was the winter break for him, leaving him on your bed asleep wishing you could just stay and enjoy the day with him because moments like that are rare with your work making you disappear until the evening and him going from country to country with his team or in the gym working out only seeing each other at dinner both exhausted from your work, the rare instances where you take time and leave from work and going to the company when he is here or at the paddock when Silverstone is coming around, hands full of pastries to give to everyone Mercedes, Mclaren, Ferrari, Redbull, Williams, Aston Martin and the others because you can give them and for your Lewis vegan ones, you have Lewis in your heart and treat him like a son even tho there isn't many many years difference between you, Lewis being 29 and you being 45 same with Toto, you knew Lewis from when he got into the Mercedes team and from then on loving him so much, and having taken a liking to the younger drivers giving them something extra.

Today toto came to your bakery near the closing hours claiming he wanted to want for you and have fun together.

When the shop was closed, cleaned and with ready dough for tomorrow, toto took your hand leading you to his Mercedes taking you to the lake.

Side note ( does Silverstone has a lake or something? I don't know i have never went there sorry. Just pretend it does)

Walking around the lake, laughing, playfully pushing each other around and taking about everything and making plans for later in life you and just spend time with one other before your schedules become more difficult and came to a decision to have the bakery but having one or two other employees to cover for you so you could be more with your 5 year old son Luca and for toto to continue his work and taking as many breaks as he can and slowly start to retire in the future.

_________________

Sorry it took so long to post I had it in my drafts.

#x reader #f1 x reader #drive to survive x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fanfic #Marriswriting #request #request are open #toto wolff fluff #lewis hamilton #bloodyymaryyy

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callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

Dawn

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman’ Seresin x Wife!reader

Word count: 1054

Warnings: pregnancy, labor... and all the fluffs.

Summary: A new member of the Seresin family.

A/N: this can be considered the second part of Sunshine or be read as a stand alone 🤍

FOREVER TGM TAGLIST: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74 @smells-like-perfect-senses @djs8891 @purplevortexx

(if you want to be tagged, leave a comment!)

When you were in your fourth month, Jake found out he was going to be a father. You were so occupied with work and worried about his well-being while he was deployed that you didn't notice that the missing periods, the nausea, the cravings, and all that were more than just a random succession of events.

Telling him on a phone call was not ideal, but there was no other way of informing him that by the time he came back, you would be bigger than when he left. The line fell silent after the news was delivered, and you thought that he wasn't happy. Then you heard a distant "I am going to be a father" yelled from the top of his lungs, and you knew that he was not only happy but excited to see his baby.

Months went by at a slow pace. He hated not being there for you, but he assured you that once the baby was ready to be born, he'd be there. That was the only promise he made to you during the pregnancy.

Now you're on your way to the hospital, holding hands with one of Jake's sisters after your water broke during lunch. Jake was on his way back to the States; the mission was over, and all the squad was coming back home for the holidays. It seemed like your baby was so excited to meet their father that they decided to come two weeks early, much to everyone's dismay. Jake was supposed to be home tomorrow, and you just wished your baby wasn't too eager to be born.

Baby Seresin's labor is long. Apparently, contractions weren't strong enough for you to dilate 1 cm per hour, so it takes longer than any of you expect. Jake's sister, Jo, is there, offering you water and telling you how strong you were and how well you were doing it. And as much as you love her for helping you, you just want Jake at your side.

Contractions get faster and stronger by the second, and you just want it to be over—to have your baby in your arms and hold them and see how much they look like Jake and how much they look like you.

"It's time to push, Mrs Seresin"

"But my husband isn't here." You whimper, not ready to do this without him.

"Mrs. Seresin, if we don't get this baby out right now, there can be consequences."

"Y/n," Jo calls your name, moving your wet hair out of your forehead, "Jake will be here tomorrow, but we have to take care of this baby now, okay?"

"But Jake-"

"Jake's here," he says, entering the room while taking off his hat. "I'm here, sunshine. I'm here now."

He kisses your forehead and your nose before looking at you. "H-how?"

"I got a feeling and asked to leave a day early. Cyclone owed me one," he says softly, caressing your cheek. "Now, Mama Seresin, we're gonna bring this baby home for Christmas, alright?"

You nod, holding his hand in a strong grip while the nurses prepare you for the delivery.

Thirty minutes later, Dawn Seresin is resting between your arms. Jake's on his knees next to the bed, observing his girls with the most proud look someone has ever had while looking at you.

"When did you choose Dawn?" You ask him, moving your head in his direction, your free hand caressing his hair.

"Well, you're my sunshine, the light of my life, and she's our first daughter, and Dawn means 'the first light before sunrise' so... It came to me one night but I didn't thought you'll like it"

"Are you kidding? It's the cutest thing ever," you say, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Too many emotions, mama," he jokes, kissing your hand.

"Yes, too many," you agree, looking at your baby girl and smiling. She has Jake's nose. "Wanna hold her?"

"I don't know how to," he whispers, a glimpse of fear in his voice.

"Oh, come on, I've seen you with your niece and nephew; you're a natural!"

You carefully move the small baby into his arms. Looking at the love of your life holding your baby in his arms, the softest smile in the world adorning his features, and tears welling up in his eyes, becomes the first core memory with your daughter.

“Honey, you can sit down, you know”

“What if I wake her? I can’t move an inch or she will wake up and she’ll cry, and then you won’t be able to rest.” He whisper-yells, already stressed.

You cover your mouth to stop laughing, but it’s just so funny seeing the confident aviator with two confirmed air-to-air kills being completely overwhelmed by his own daughter. “You know she’s gonna cry for the next… 18 years of your life, right? When she’s hungry, sick, or sleepy... When she’s bored, when she’s sad. When a boy rejects her…”

He looks at you with wide eyes. “I haven’t even processed that I’m a dad yet. Please don’t talk about B-O-Y-S, she won’t date until she’s 30”

“Maybe she’ll like girls. What if she brings a girl home who you think is a friend but who’s actually her girlfriend?”

“Now you’re just trying to kill me”

"I'm just saying, you never know," you shrug as you adjust the blankets around your body.

“Sunshine, you’re enjoying this a bit too much, don’t you think?”

“Jake, I kept her safe for almost nine months, and now it is your turn to start worrying about her."

Jake sighs, sitting down in the rocking chair next to the bed. “I’m gonna get wrinkles all over my pretty face.”

“You’ll still be the hottest dad around,” you state, making him wink at you. “Babe”

“Yes?”

“What would you have called the baby if it was a boy?”

He smiles, tracing Dawn’s nose with his finger. “Meyer”

“Meyer?”

“It means ‘bringer of light’ in Hebrew,” he admits, his ears turning red in embarrassment.

“Good name for the second child”

“Already thinking about the second one?” he laughs.

“It will happen eventually”

Jake nods, looking at his daughter and thinking how beautiful and perfect Dawn is, and how excited he is to bring little Meyer into this world. Hopefully, he will have your nose.

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