#no one asks if you’re alright. And you start to wonder if you are
Note
Hello! Not sure if you’re taking requests but would you consider doing an addition to TSS where young!arsenal reader was starting before Beth and Viv came back and has been benched majority of the time since (Kyra core☹️). Maybe during like the west ham game was one of the subs thrown on halfway through and after the loss made a snarky comment about “being thrown on to unfuck everything” type of thing to another teammate and Viv/beth overhear and think she’s talking about them (maybe they’re already a little insecure about losing such an “easy” game, self doubt post ACL) and things are super frosty and weird at home until one of them snaps and makes a comment about how they still wouldn’t have won even if R started. Hurt/comfort angst but with a happy ending!! Not sure if any of that strikes your fancy but I had the thought and you’re so talented:) no worries if not!!!
TO JUMP THE GUN(NERS)
pairings: arsenal x teen!reader / meadema x teen!reader / kyra cooney-cross x arsenal!reader
warnings: the west-ham match. swearing. angst. awkwardness.
author’s note: OMG LOVE THIS IDEA ! like this was right up my alley I felt like 😭 thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story!
masterlist
February 4, 2024 - Essex, England
It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.
The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.
She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.
Their injuries had changed everything.
Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.
She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.
However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.
It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.
In other words, she was back to step 1.
That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.
In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.
Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.
The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.
Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.
As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.
The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.
''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.
Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''
''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.
''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''
Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.
''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.
As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.
''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.
Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.
They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.
The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.
Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.
''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.
Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''
The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.
As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.
"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.
Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.
"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.
"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.
As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.
The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.
''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.
Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.
She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.
''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.
They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.
''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.
''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.
"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.
They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.
''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.
Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''
The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''
Katie was not right.
As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.
Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.
The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.
Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.
A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.
Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?
She had absolutely no clue.
However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.
Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.
Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?
Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.
Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.
The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.
The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.
Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.
"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”
Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''
But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.
Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.
The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.
''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.
''Hey, you're home?''
''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''
There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''
''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.
''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''
There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''
Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.
''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.
''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.
''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''
Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”
''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''
''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.
Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.
Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.
''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.
''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''
Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.
The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.
Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''
Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.
The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.
A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.
''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.
Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.
She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.
She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.
Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.
For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.
Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.
As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.
''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.
Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.
''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.
Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.
But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''
Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.
''Beth, I wasn't-''
''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.
Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.
''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.
''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.
Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''
The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.
The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''
Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.
''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.
''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.
The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.
''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.
''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.
The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.
''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.
Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.
''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.
The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''
''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.
''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.
The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.
Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.
Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''
''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.
''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.
Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.
''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.
''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.
''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.
The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''
She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.
The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.
''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.
requests are always welcome!
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal x reader#woso imagine#woso fic#beth mead x reader#vivianne miedema x reader#kyra cooney cross x reader#meadema
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Can you do something fluffy and domestic with Price. Like maybe him trying to ask civilian reader out on a date, and everything is just going against him. (He eventually does get to ask her whether or not it was how he planned it.)
john wants to ask his favorite waiter/waitress out on a date, but the universe seems to have other plans for him.
john price x gn!reader
fluff, john trying his best, domesticity
a/n: ty for the request!! you’re my first one so i hope you like it <3 also, let’s just pretend like the timeline of this fic makes sense :)
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Oh, this poor man was hopeless from the start. He had been interested in you for a while and was finding the courage within himself to finally ask you out. He felt silly about the ache in his chest whenever he thought about what your response might be. He just wanted to do right by you was all. So, when he was finally out of his latest mission and allowed to take a break, he was determined to pop the question to you.
The plan was to stop by the flower shop and buy a simple bouquet for you, but when he found himself in front of the store it had been closed. “Family Emergency. Will be back next week.” He didn’t have a week.
Okay, so, no flowers. It was disappointing, to say the least, but he could make do.
You were nearing the end of your shift when your coworker, Missy, tapped you on the shoulder. As you turned away from the table you were cleaning, she leaned down and whispered in your ear, “There’s that hot man here, again. He’s asking for you, dear.”
She ended her news with a knowing wink. Looking past her shoulder, you could clearly see John sitting at a table with a menu in his hands. Your cheeks flushed at Missy’s insinuation.
“Thanks,” you managed to choke out, hoping she didn’t notice how flustered you were.
“Of course. That’s the second time, just so you know,” she reminded teasingly, nudging you with her elbow encouragingly before leaving to go attend to her own tables.
Out of the three times John had been to your restaurant (including this one), he spent the last two specifically requesting your presence. Though you tried not to think much of it, you couldn’t ignore the way it made your heart flutter.
Straightening your uniform, you made your way to his table with a genuine smile—a stark contrast to the fake one you give to other customers just for the sake of work. John pretended like he wasn’t secretly watching you in the periphery of his vision and looked up at you once you found your way to him.
“It’s nice to see you again,” you beamed.
“‘S nice to see you too,” he replied, unable to keep that lovestruck smile off his face. “How have you been, sweetheart?”
You laughed softly, “I’ve been alright. You know, just the same old. How about you, John?”
“I’m afraid it’s been the same for me. Just got off a mission.” Not once did his eyes leave yours. It was almost intimidating, the way he was so dedicated to giving you his full attention.
“Really? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” you said hopefully.
It was the perfect opportunity for him. All he had to say was, ”Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime,” and he almost pulled it off.
“Actually, I—”
Ring, ring, ring, ring.
Internally cursing himself, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw the contact Laswell flashing on his screen. Usually, when she called, it was something worth hearing. He looked up at you apologetically, but you just smiled and waved your hand at him to let him know it was okay.
Standing up, he answered Kate’s call and pressed his phone between his ear and his shoulder. You couldn’t hear much of what the other person was saying. It was mostly just John nodding his head, saying a quick “yes” or “no,” or mentioning what you assumed were his colleagues' names.
Gathering his things, he turned to you and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave, right now. I apologize for wasting your time like this.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry! It’s nice to have seen you anyway, and I’m glad you’re doing well. I don’t mind, honestly,” you reassured him, secretly disappointed at the fact that his visit was so short-lived.
Clearing his throat, he asked, “If it's not too out of line, may I ask when you get off work?”
Throwing all caution to the wind, you quickly answered, “At about ten thirty.”
“Ten thirty, all right,” he said (more so to himself than you). “Have a good rest of your shift, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, I hope all is well at work,” you nodded, watching as his eyes lingered on your for a moment before he left for the door.
The entire time he was back at work the thought of you sat in the back of his mind. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember why he was there. Something about an important lead? Or maybe a new contact? Honestly, his head was in the clouds.
Even though you didn’t know he was going to ask you out, he still felt guilty for not being able to pop the question to you. As soon as he left the meeting, he was out the door. It was already ten, and it took about twenty-five minutes to get to the restaurant. He silently cursed himself for the second time that day, still determined to get in his car and see if, by some miracle, he could catch you.
He had imagined himself in the exact opposite situation he was currently in. He had wanted to be out of uniform in something more presentable and approachable, being able to spend his time with you without any interruptions. Now, he was having to rush his pace with his uniform on as he attempted to make up for his first failed attempt at asking you out. He didn’t want to be the captain with you, just John Price.
Peeking into the front door of the now-closed restaurant, he scanned the few workers left inside to see if any of them were you only to be met with disappointment. His frustrated grew ten-fold as he turned away from the door, making his way back to his car.
Just as he was about to hop in, you were exiting the side door with your uniform in hand.
“John?” you called out, stopping just a few feet away from him. You almost didn’t recognize him with the way he was dressed (not that you were complaining).
He whirled around instantly at the sound of your voice. “(Y/n),” he started. “I almost thought I missed you.”
You smiled. “No, one of my coworkers needed help with something so I stayed behind just a little bit.”
“How kind of you. Most would leave as soon as they were able,” he praised, shutting his car door behind him.
“She’s always been kind to me. I figured the least I could do is repay her.” You paused. “So, uh, what brings you back here so late?”
You.
“Well, I was just…” Why was he nervous? He had asked out plenty of people before (though none quite like you). For Christ’s sake, he was a disciplined soldier capable of incredible feats without breaking a single sweat. He’s faced dangerous criminals with a calm face and a stable mind, but with you, oh, it was like everything he ever learned went out the window.
You waited expectantly with bated breath.
“Well, I was actually wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime. Anywhere you like,” he finally managed. “‘Course, feel free to say no. I promise I won’t be hurt.”
He’s lying, of course, but you didn’t need to know that.
Your face lit up at his question, answering with an immediate, “Yes, I’d love to!”
Finally, finally, he could release the breath he was holding. His shoulders visibly relaxed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned at your response.
“How do you feel about movie and a dinner?”
Maybe it didn't go exactly as he'd planned, but at least you said yes, right?
#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#price x reader#john price imagine#captain john price imagine#call of duty x reader#call of duty imagine#cod x reader#cod imagine#rarawrites#cod mw x reader#john price x you#call of duty fluff#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfic#john price fanfic#price fanfic#john price x gn!reader#cod x gn!reader#call of duty x gn!reader
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 70)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (57) / Alexia Putellas x Character (27) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (13)
Masterlist (other parts here)
Join our WOSO Discord chat! Link in bio :)
((**2.5k**))
I recommend reading the last 5+ parts first!
((**Sorry for the lack of posting. Life and... procrastination getting in the way. I'll try to post more, starting with smaller chapters. Much love! Jae.**))
Jordan hadn’t realised that she’d instinctively sought the comfort of Leah by grabbing her hand until she felt a soft squeeze. Realising, she dropped Leah’s hand just as quickly as she’d grabbed it and tried to not look at her. It wasn’t too difficult though, as the room in front of them was much more interesting. It resembled the size and structure of a warehouse space, though it was set up for content. There were different areas for interviews, photos, videos, there were different sports brands moving throughout, clothes overflowing racks, and so much more. The pets were great to see –Blu whined from her arms and his head darted around, his eyes overwhelmed and excited not only by the amount of people, but by the pets too. He loved to play, though his stamina was awful. This is one thing she missed most about not having Leah around. Those two were always playing together.
“You’re alright, mate,” Leah calmed as she stroked his head while tucked up against Jordan’s chest with one of her arms. Jordan relished the feel of Leah’s arm brushing up against her chest lightly as she pet him.
“Madness, right?” Beth chuckled excitedly. Of course she was in her comfort zone.
She spotted Viv and joined her across the room.
“Are you just going to keep standing there?” Jen asked in her amused, wondering tone.
Jordan had no idea and so Leah jumped in.
“Where do we even start..?”
Jen pointed across them and to the area set up with tables of food and drink. Standing right in front of it was the person you’d always expect to find near the food. The pair chuckled when they saw her stuffing her mouth. “She’ll sort you out.”
Jordan shook her head and she couldn’t help the smile cross her face as she wandered over to the food table followed closely by Leah.
“Hey, mate.”
Lucy turned around mid-chew. Her eyes lit up as she saw them both. She gulped down her bite and gave them a little hug while she did so, with a pat for Blu. “Hey you two. You came! I really didn’t think you would but YFN knew you would.”
“Of course we would,” Leah laughed.
“What’s happening?” Jordan asked. “You’re usually eating but you look like you’re stress eating at the moment. Feeling guilty?”
Lucy gave a sheepish grin, having been caught. Jordan had known her for so long. “Just a bit-”
Jordan’s expression had her rolling her eyes as she looked over towards YFN. “-a lot. I didn’t expect it to become what it has. I just wanted to distract her so I could organise her birthday next week.”
Lucy’s expression was obvious regret as she watched her. Jordan followed her eyes to where YFN was. She was sitting at a table with piles of paperwork and her laptop in front of her. Sitting next to her was Alex Scott, though YFN was talking to some Lumos employees who nodded and left. She was obviously organising everything and Jordan always loved to watch her in boss mode. She seemed very tired, though, but that didn’t stop the smile lighting her face. She looked over at the trio and her face lit up from its weariness. She waved at the group as her attention was quickly taken up again by someone else.
“Are you hiding?” Leah asked.
Lucy shook her head and grabbed the plates of food she had on the table in front of her.
“Just stress eating,” Jordan laughed as the trio wandered over to join the table.
“I didn’t want… this,” Lucy grunted. “It just got so out of hand. Everybody jumped on board like the tavern dinner.”
“Have you even spoken to anyone about the birthday plans yet?” Leah murmured as they got closer.
“Only a few. I was hoping you two would distract her so I’d have a better chance to. I’ve been hovering because I feel like someone’s going to run into her. Now be quiet about it… oh and don’t mention Ridley.”
The pair didn’t have a chance to question that before they reached the table and instead shared a look. They each greeted the pair at the table and unsurprisingly, Leah fell straight into conversation with Alex from her seat next to Jordan. The pair were close, though never in a way beyond friendship. Truth be told, she enjoyed seeing Leah interacting with her friend.
“I missed you,” YFN groaned into her as they hugged and then acknowledged Blu. “Hi little man. I missed you too.”
“I missed you more,” Jordan admitted as she held her for longer than she expected. She really did miss her friend. YFN held her until Jordan released first with tears in her eyes that she tried to cover.
“Got a bit carried away, did we?” YFN asked as Lucy put the obscene amount of food down in front of her with a kiss to the temple.
“I know you like options… think of it as tapas, little one.”
She rolled her eyes with a smile that only Lucy brought out of her. “That too, but I was talking about you hoovering. I saw you eating your feelings, Luce. Or rather… inhaling them.”
Jordan chuckled as she placed Blu down on the chair next to her and watched as Lucy wrapped an arm around YFN, holding her softly. It seemed Lucy was still very much feeling guilty and protective of her injuries, and Jordan felt a pang of empathy in her chest. She was still so broken, and she could see her wince at each wrong movement, though she did try to hide it. For Lucy’s sake, she imagined.
“Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”
Jordan felt Leah shift next to her, having heard the question, and somehow, she knew she was listening to her response. Jordan wasn’t sure what brought out the sudden pride in her as she responded.
“Blu and I are actually staying with Leah tonight.” She said, smiling at Leah who paused her sentence just to smile back and share a moment. Enough was enough. Jordan wanted her. She knew that. And although unexpected, tonight she wanted to show Leah just how much she still cared for her. She felt ready.
Jordan turned back to the couple in front of her. Lucy nodded, her eyes flickering between the two. Though YFN was smiling kindly and… knowingly. Like she already knew.
YFN POV
“Sounds perfect.” Silence hung for a second and as she usually did, YFN broke it to keep the conversation flowing. “Did anyone explain to you two what’s happening here?”
“Nope.”
“Okay so Lucy sort of took the opportunity to ask around to get some people interested in meeting up today and introducing them to our company but it seems things have gotten a little out of hand…” Lucy looked apologetic as YFN’s eyes flickered around the room, making sure everything was running smooth. “So everyone is getting involved as much or as little as they like. Before you do anything, there’s our legal team over there dealing with legality when it comes to us posting content et cetera. Then there’s the photography over there… interviews there… tik tok content there… Nike have set up there… Adidas there… there’s several clothing or sports brands set up to promote themselves and find new brand ambassadors but they’re under strict instructions to not approach anyone, I want only the interested footballers to approach them instead.” She looked over to the booths set up. “Though they have been pretty sneaky with their little signs…” she chuckled as she watched one of the sports drink brands holding up a board saying ‘JOIN THE DARK SIDE LJ’ as Lauren laughed from afar. “Food and drink over there… let the lads there know if you want anything and they’ll get it. Lots of hungry women here… and I’ll be doing the pet interviews over here starting again soon, just having a little break for now. Oh and the podcast.”
“So you are starting the podcast?” Leah asked.
“I think it’ll be a great weekly thing to do to keep up with current events and have guest speakers.”
“Thanks for throwin’ my name out there,” Alex grinned at Leah. “I think it’s great. We’ve been chattin’ about it a lot and I think YFN, Jill and I are going to each bring something different to it. We were going to start today if Jill can get here.”
“She’s coming from Manchester?”
“Have you looked around? People are comin’ from everywhere. It’s crazy.” They shared a laugh at that as they couldn’t help but look around the packed room again.
“How did you even manage all of this?” Leah asked.
“Well we spoke to a few of the girls who were over last night-”
“-you mean the whole Arsenal team?”
“Basically. And they messaged around and then it sort of became this. To be honest, I think it was just perfect timing being everyone’s day off and most of the girls didn’t arrive until just before you two. Everyone was sleeping in and word was spreading. I’ve just been trying to stop the bleeding all morning. More food. More table. Backdrops. Cameras. Film equipment. Luckily our staff is so properly vetted – they’ve all jumped in feet first. I was worried we’d be drowning for a second, but everything’s going well…”
“You’re doing an amazing job…” Lucy murmured to her. Her heart fluttered as she leant into her a little more. She knew she’d be sleeping well tonight.
“Thanks, Luce. Thank you for getting everyone together.”
She was saying that for Lucy to know that she did appreciate her effort, and to try and take some of that guilt away of course.
“I’ll give you more notice next time…” She joked half-heartedly.
“I’d very much appreciate that,” she laughed in response as her phone vibrated. She looked down, wondering if it was Joe again, excited with her updates. But it wasn’t. Her eyes widened as she answered.
“Hey… did you get my messages?”
“Sí,” Alexia responded almost normally. “I would like to come.”
YFN had been trying to get in contact with her all morning and had invited her to their little open day of course, thinking it might be a welcome distraction. She never thought she’d say yes, though.
“Okay… um…” She turned to Lucy who took her key from her pocket and gestured to the phone, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. Her Lucy. It was these little things that made her adore her so much. “Okay, Lucy is on her way to get you. She’ll be there soon!”
“Okay. Can I bring Chiquito?”
YFN hesitated. Ridley adored Chiquito more than anything. He was a mini Ridley. Her little man. She’d left him with Alexia which confirmed what YFN already knew. Ridley was completely and utterly in love with her. “Uh… yes of course you can bring Chiquito. Everyone has brought their pets actually. I’ll be doing pet and player interviews if you’d like to but we’ll discuss it when you get here.”
She shared a look with Lucy whose thinking lines appeared on her forehead at the mention of Chiquito.
“See you soon, Blau.”
“See you Ale.”
She hung up and Lucy tilted her head in question.
“She sounds… surprisingly okay,” YFN murmured.
Lucy frowned. So did she. They both knew that was bad. Alexia had shut down her emotions which meant one thing… she would break.
Lucy sighed and leant forwards, her lips finding YFN’s, her hand cradling her cheek. The softest of kisses.
“I’ll be back soon, little one,” she said as she kissed her forehead and stood. “You all look after her, please. She’s fragile and refuses to believe it sometimes.”
YFN managed to slap her hip as she walked away, and Lucy was unable to stop herself from looking over her shoulder at her as she was leaving. She smiled when she caught her eye. It should be illegal to look that good, YFN thought.
Her attention was drawn back to the table at the eyes that were avoiding her. She sighed. “Lucy said not to mention Ridley, right?”
Their faces answered the question.
“Of course she did. That woman… hm. Well, because Alexia is coming, I feel like you all need to know what’s happening so we can all help the situation because I can’t exactly move quickly and people are bound to harass Alexia because it’s… well… Alexia.”
“Did something happen with them finally?” Alex asked.
“You know Ridley?” Leah asked Alex.
“The hot bisexual? Impossible to not when everyone is talking about her. You know how the girls are when a hot new single women enters our world,” she laughed. “And I sort of put two and two together with those photos online of you all at lunch the other day. They looked very friendly.”
“At lunch?!” Jordan asked.
“I handled it…” YFN murmured. “They took them down but a few people know. Anyways… please keep it to yourselves, just take this information and try to make Alexia feel comfortable…”
“They finally did it then?” Leah asked.
“I’m… not sure. Ridley is gone. That’s all.”
“Gone?”
“Gone. There’s a good chance you won’t see her again. She… does this. She doesn’t get close to people. She stopped by last night and said goodbye about 3am. I’ve been awake ever since. Alexia is still in her apartment with Chiquito.”
They didn’t say anything.
“So be kind to Alexia please and don’t mention it… and try to steer conversations away from relationships. They nodded, understanding and already empathising. She saw Jordan look at Leah with longing and then hiding her expression.
They spoke for a little longer, and others came over to the table to chat and introduce their dogs. Eventually, her phone started buzzing again.
“Lucy’s calling…” she murmured, wonderingly. She answered the call.
“Love, Alexia has someone coming from Spain and they’ll be there soon-”
“-i’m sorry,” Alexia cut off, presumably from the passenger seat of the car. “I didn’t tell her to come. I didn’t know she would come-”
“-hey, that’s okay!” YFN responded with a laugh. She wanted Alexia to be comfortable and give her everything she needed right now. It was a positive sign that someone had come to be with Alexia when she needed it. It meant she’d been talking and opening up. “The more the merrier, and more won’t hurt looking around at this place already.”
“You don’t understand. Little one…” Lucy’s voice faded out as YFN realised why they were so nonchalant about the situation. Across the far side of the room, one of the Lumos workers entered, gesturing the new guest inside the content warehouse.
She’d be lying if she didn’t say that her heart skipped a beat at the little figure of Ona Batlle entering the room.
#woso#woso community#womens football#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso soccer#engwnt#lionesses#lucy bronze#woso x reader#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader#alexia putellas#jordan nobbs#leah williamson#barca femeni#barcelona femeni#fc barça#ona batlle
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Hi! I’m not sure if this has been requested before but I’ve been working nonstop lately. I’m completely worn out and desperate for a day off. So, I was wondering how you think tangerine would react to this sort of situation with his gf/wife/partner- being very overworked, exhausted, tense, stressed, anxious? In need of some comfort, fluff, love and reassurance. -🤍
Thank you so much, I love you!!
hii!! im pretty sure it has, but that’s no problem. make sure to take care of yourself angel, really sorry you’re so tired, hopefully this can be of some comfort. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 I love you and hope you’re doing as well as you can be xx
ignore kimura’s hand 😭 the pic is just really hot
TAKE A BREAK.
tangerine x fem!reader — fluff & comfort
word count. 637
Tangerine had noticed a change within you recently. Though it wasn't hard, anyone could.
He could see it in your eyes, the exuberant shine almost fading with every one of your early starts and late finishes. And those tired, half-smiles you'd give him when he questions it only prove his point more.
He knew you were under a lot of stress lately, everything in your life catching up with you, and all he wanted was to help you. Even if it was carrying your weight on his shoulders for a few minutes - anything just to give you a moment of ease.
It had gone past midnight, but you were nowhere close to finishing the massive assigned workload. The dining table filled with stacks of your papers, the surface repurposed as an office desk once again. By now, the words on the page were far from legible, the lines blurring and swirling together as you pushed through the last section.
"I don't get it," you mutter to yourself, dropping your head into your hands.
"What don't you get?" Tangerine asks, appearing in the doorway as if he were a genie.
"I don't know," you mumble, rubbing your face in your palms. "All of it... it doesn't make sense— none of it does. And I've been reading it over and over and," you cut yourself off with a sigh, looking over the array of papers in front of you.
"Come on, now," he hushes, moving across the room to stand in front of you. "You're knackered. You need good sleep," he adds, placing his hands on either side of your head, making you face him.
"I can't. I have so much to do," you faintly exhale - the sound weary and worn down.
His thumbs glide under your eyes, the pads running over the dark circles and tired skin - the act as if he were trying to soothe you. "I'll help you out in the morning, alright? But not now. You need'a sleep."
"I can't," you softly shake your head, his hands moving with the faint movement. "I can't sleep knowing how much work I have."
He sighs, his head cocking to the side to maintain the eye contact you were so desperate to get out of. "When you hurt, I hurt. And you're hurting a lot right now, aren't'ya?"
The lack of response from you, silently answers his question.
"That's what I thought," he says, leaning over to press a kiss into your hairline. "I'll lock up. You go get ready for bed, yeah?" he laces his hands into yours, helping you from the seat. "I'll follow up in a minute."
You do as asked and get ready for bed, continuing the rest of your routine from a couple hours before - brushing your teeth and peeing, changing back into pyjamas. You get into your side of the bed, the comfort almost immediately soothing the aches in your body.
As promised, Tangerine follows closely behind, entering the bedroom with a glass of water in one hand and a pack of paracetamol in the other. He makes his way around the bed to your side, setting the glass and painkillers on your nightstand.
He gets in bed from his side, slipping under the covers, his arms instinctively reaching for you under them. He pulls you towards him, holding you tight.
"Can you give me food poisoning tomorrow?" you attempt a joke, burying your face into his chest.
"I'd rather throw myself down the stairs and break my legs and then sit in A&E all night so you could get the day off," he whispers, stroking over the back of your head.
"Might try that myself."
He presses a kiss into your cheek, tucking your face back into the comfort of his chest. "Enough now, get some sleep."
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Hello! I'm back with another chapter of my Feyd-Rautha/Reader arranged marriage series.
AO3 link here for full fic: And I Don't Want Your Heart - Chapter 5 - ooihcnoiwlerh - Dune (2021) [Archive of Our Own]
Side post that has some of my headcanons for how I interpret Feyd-Rautha's own relationship to his sexuality: Hello, Friend - So I've been working on a Feyd-Rautha/Reader... (tumblr.com)
This fic and this chapter are 18+ up only. Tags, content warning, and full chapter below the cut
Tags/CW list: rape/noncon; graphic depictions of violence; dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced pregnancy; nature versus nurture; implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced sexual assault; implied/referenced incest; first time; rough sex; oral sex; vaginal sex; vaginal fingering; blood kink; pain kink; sadomasochism; period sex; problematic smut; inappropriate misuse of BDSM; slow burn emotionally but the exact opposite of a slow burn phyiscally
CHAPTER FOUR: A BLOODY GASH
You're fertile. You’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise. This union is contingent on giving him children–at least one son, and as many attempts as necessary to get there ( and you desperately hope that you’ll only need that first one. You don’t want to raise a daughter in this place, amongst these people .)
So you’re horrified when you wake up the following morning to blood smeared between your legs, staining your chemise that rode up to your hips when you were sleeping, and leaving a smear on the sheets below when you move.
No. No. You pull up the hem of your chemise and stare at your inner thighs as if just looking will change the outcome. Feyd-Rautha came inside of you four times in two days for nothing . He’ll be furious. He’ll question your very biology. He’ll have you examined as thoroughly and cruelly as possible.
You scramble, trying to cover yourself, wondering what you can even do next when Idrisa comes in with fresh water and coffee.
To her credit, she doesn't drop the tray when her eye line goes directly to your bleeding crotch for the few seconds it’s still visible.
“I knew my time for it was coming up, I just didn't think it would,” you say to yourself as much as her and come to meet her gaze.
She glances back down out of respect, but the awkward tension hangs between the two of you for a moment.
“Do you…” you start, embarrassment flushing your face and neck, “do you have anything for it?” You have no idea how menstrual care even works on Geidi Prime. You’d just assumed that it wouldn’t be an issue for another ten months.
She composes herself again immediately. “Why yes, of course, Na-Baroness. I apologize for my negligence.” Before you can tell her there's nothing to apologize for, she adds, “I'll help you get cleaned up first.”
“That’s alright, I can do it,” you tell her as you wonder for a moment who she served before that she’d assume you want her to clean between your legs when you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.
She inclines her head further. “Thank you, Na-Baroness. I’ll be back in just a moment.”
As soon as she’s out the door you’re up and walking briskly to the bathroom.
You’ll need to have the sheets changed.
It’s only been two days, you think, washing between your legs. This doesn’t mean anything bad . When he asks for you, you can just explain the situation and try again in a few days. Until then…until then… For a moment you draw a blank, before remembering a conversation you had a few years ago with a slightly older friend when you asked her if husbands still desired their wives when their wives were bleeding.
“ They honestly just want something warm, soft, and wet to bury themselves in, ” she’d told you matter-of-factly. “ So most men just use their wife’s mouths .”
“ What do you mean? ” you’d asked, fairly certain you had an idea what she was talking about but still more willing to briefly embarrass yourself by asking than remain ignorant.
“ You know what goes on between a man’s legs, right? ” she’d asked in turn.
“ Of course ,” you’d said, a little offended that she’d think you so naive.
“ When you’re bleeding and he still wants you to please him, put your mouth there instead, ” she’d told you. “ Like he’s burying himself inside your mouth instead of your canal. You can’t make babies that way, of course, but they often don’t care about that . You can’t really make babies during your monthly courses anyway. ”
You wonder how she reacted when she found out who you’d be marrying. You never got the chance to ask and assume, like many young women and their parents, that she was relieved that she wasn’t the one hand-picked for him.
You also haven’t done that to him yet, nor any other man, for that matter, and you’re sure your lack of skill will show. How are you meant to take the entire thing in your mouth when you can barely fit it where it’s meant to go? What are you supposed to do with your teeth? It also just seems somehow more daunting and personal than just having inside of you in the traditional manner.
He’ll be aggressive with it, like he is in everything else.
You can’t stop thinking about it as you brush your teeth and hair and try to ignore the discomfort in your lower belly before you hear a click and the door to your quarters opening.
Idrisa’s back with a basket made of some kind of black synthetic material; it’s covered to protect its contents from passing view. You could kiss her for that, you think, and she starts unpacking.
She pulls out what look like thick handkerchiefs, going to your bathroom to stack them neatly on the countertop. She also hands you a canister that you open to find a handful of circular tablets.
“They’re not as strong as what I left for your wedding night,” she says, “and they won’t put you to sleep, but they should suffice if you need them.”
You’d chalked up your cramps to nerves but now that you have your answer the symptoms couldn’t have been more obvious. “Thank you, I think I will,” you tell her as you think about how you’ll likely be expected to join your new family, if one could call them that, for breakfast again. The thought makes you want to crawl back under the covers.
“Can you also please tell Feyd-Rautha that I apologize for missing breakfast but that I'm feeling unwell this morning and wouldn't want to be poor company in my condition?” you ask.
Idrisa hesitates, nervous. You realize that she's thinking, You know that your husband finds me far more disposable than he finds you, right? He could easily kill and replace me and no one would care. You also realize that she can’t and won’t say no to you. But just that look reminds you that as frightening as this fortress is to you, it’s much worse for her. You haven’t seen Feyd-Rautha kill outside of the arena yet, but you also barely know him; killing people who displease him over minor inconveniences, especially if they’re low-born and low-ranking, could be a common occurrence for him. The Harkonnens didn’t earn their reputation for nothing.
“Unless you think they won't notice if I’m even there,” you add, thinking. The Baron couldn't care less if he never has a conversation with you again, and outside of the marriage bed, Feyd-Rautha doesn't appear to have any real plans for you. “I could just…stay here and if Feyd-Rautha has any questions he can ask them.”
Idrisa’s shoulders had been locked and tense but appear to relax just a little at your words. “I can make a plate for you and bring it back here,” she says, already knowing your preference. Given Geidi Prime’s incredible wealth and lack of natural resources other than fuels and metals there are imported fruits that you’d never had before coming here that you’re certain you’ll never get sick of.
“Sounds perfect, thank you,” you tell her, and take advantage of the new medication when she leaves.
When she returns with another tray for you, she’s accompanied by two other girls holding a fresh arrangement of sheets; the hems and necklines of their garb are cut a little different from hers and they look younger, perhaps the same age as your little sister. You wonder if the difference in the way they’re dressed suggests rank? They keep their heads down and don’t acknowledge you other than a silent curtsy before stripping your old sheets and setting down a new spread. You look at them for a moment, wondering if it’s at the Baron’s insistence that no staff ever look a Harkonnen royal in the eye or if this rule’s been going on for generations when Idrisa snaps you out of your thoughts.
“I have a tea prepared for you as well, Na-Baroness,” she says, gesturing towards the tray that she’s set on your end-table and removing the cloche covering your plate. “It’s not medicine strictly speaking but it has soothing properties.”
You turn and look at her. She doesn’t look much older than you, but the same can be said of most of the female slaves. Are they banished to where they won’t be easily seen when they reach a certain age? What’s the life expectancy? It feels more than a little insensitive to ask right now, so you just let them work as you take a seat at your end-table and take a sip of your tea.
After breakfast is over and you’ve found a comfortable position sitting up in bed, propped up by the pillows and headboards, you read a bit more on the Harkonnen lineage. The more you read, the more you understand why Father always insisted that Geidi Prime is no place for a woman. Women in high places, you find, have in history been assassinated more often than the men, or kidnapped to use as collateral and tortured. You wonder if that’s why you saw so few at the wedding and reception, why they seemed so hidden out of view even while accompanying their high-ranking husbands.
You’re reasonably certain that your new husband’s concerned enough with his image as heir to the Harkonnen throne not to tarnish the alliance your marriage has created, that even if he doesn’t really know you and may never love you–you’re reasonably certain that he’s incapable of feeling such an emotion–he’ll still make sure to protect what he sees as his. His uncle will likely be another story.
The door opens unannounced and you look up, expecting Idrisa only to find Feyd-Rautha letting himself in without a word and closing the door behind him. He doesn’t speak at first, but everything in his demeanor tells you that he did in fact notice your absence and wants an explanation.
You compose yourself. There’s no need to panic. “Good afternoon, husband. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, tone as light and cool as the weather would be on your home planet right now.
He leans against the door as he folds his arms across his chest and looks you over. “I missed you at breakfast,” he says.
“Yes, my apologies. I’m not feeling well,” you tell him.
He clearly doesn’t believe you. You don’t seem feverish , he seems to think with his unimpressed gaze. You seem fine . “Still getting adjusted to the atmosphere on Geidi Prime?” he asks, and for a foolish moment you hope that he’s giving you an excuse. Maybe he thinks you’re avoiding him because of last night, and you’re content to let him think that.
“Yes, husband,” you tell him.
“That’s a shame,” he says, crossing over to your bed and sitting at the edge of it. “It occurred to me last night that whoever taught you close-range maneuvers didn’t do their job right. You should’ve been able to evade me.”
You wrinkle your brow and don’t have it in you to hide your insulted glare; your House’s military is considered a force to be reckoned with and a slight against your training is a slight against your House and your father himself. “Did you want me to evade you?” you ask.
He seems amused by your sudden sharpness, and you realize that he’d wanted to hit a nerve. He knew what he was implying and got the precise reaction he’d been hoping for. “That’s not the point, wife. You said yourself that you were out of practice and as soon as you’re feeling better I intend to rectify that. Your cute little boot-dagger won’t serve you any good if you can’t correctly use it.”
He places his hand on your leg, trailing it along your thigh and stopping just shy of your apex, his thumb brushing against it through the fabric of your skirt. You give a sharp inhale that makes him smile. You start to close your legs but his hand, now cupping your inner thigh, holds one open enough for him to continue to fondle as he pleases.
His hand stays there for a moment, stays over the light material of your skirt even as you're sure the soft flesh of your inner thigh heats his palm, as flushed as you feel under his touch. He leans in, inhales as he leans over you and sniffs your hair. It’s not even the first time he’s done it. You wonder if he finds your hair to be a sort of forbidden fruit; something he can’t say he likes because to do so would disrespect Harkonnen hairlessness, but still something he finds fascinating or even enviable. You’re not sure yet whether his lack of it is down to genetics or grooming but you assume the former, if it affects everyone including those who wouldn’t have such prime access to constant shaving.
But then he fully brings his hand between your legs, fingertips rubbing up against you and you flinch.
Now? Is he going to try and fuck me right here and now? You shift, trying to hide what you’re sure is a look of panic on your face, trying to scramble for an excuse as Feyd-Rautha rubs a whimper out of you.
In the moments he does and you freeze, he watches your face a moment longer and then something shifts in his eyes, and he pulls back.
“I’ll call on you soon,” he says. There’s something satisfied, almost smug in his tone. He doesn’t wait for a response from you before he gets up and leaves, and you wonder what caused his departure.
Idrisa comes in a minute later with more tea for you. “The Na-Baron seems mollified,” she says. “He’s taken the news well.”
“I didn’t tell him.”
You catch Idrisa furrowing her brow-line, incredulous even with her head bowed before she can smooth over her expression into one of polite indifference.
“He doesn’t need to know yet,” you tell her. “He said he’d call on me later.”
“My apologies for speaking boldly, Na-Baroness,” she says, “but the Na-Baron will still take you to bed tonight or whenever he decides is convenient. Harkonnen men expect their wives to always be available to them, no matter how they’re feeling.”
You suppose you already knew this. It certainly doesn’t help the gnawing feeling in your stomach even as the medicine Idrisa gave you has soothed the cramps for now.
“It appears I can hold him off until after dinner, at least,” you finally say. There’s that; you also appreciate having another meal without the Baron’s presence.
You wish you had someone you could talk to about this in which it wouldn’t feel weird to ask. You look over at Idrisa. She’s the only friend you’ve managed to make so far and while you don’t see that changing anytime soon, you haven’t forgotten that she keeps you company out of obligation. You can’t be certain as to whether or not she actually likes you, or if she only tolerates you due to her heightened position within the Harkonnen Fortress as your personal attendant. Still, she’s certainly better than no one to ask. She takes your old mug and heads for the door.
“Idrisa,” you start. She turns. “You’ve…have you been with men before?”
She inclines her head in a polite nod. “When it’s required of me,” she says.
Your second question dies in your mouth. Oh. Right . Yet again you’re disgusted but can’t say you’re all that surprised.
And instead of asking for advice you’re struck by another thought. “Has the Na-Baron ever…?” you start and she immediately shakes her head.
“Never, Na-Baroness,” she assures you. “He has never been known to satiate himself that way with slaves.”
Are you being honest or telling me what I want to hear? you almost ask but spare her the indignity. You’re reasonably certain that if Feyd-Rautha had taken advantage of her, he’d have gloated to you about it. “Thank you,” you tell her. You don’t want to know how men on Geidi Prime have abused her mouth. “I was just curious.”
“Not at all, Na-Baroness,” she says.
As the hours tick by you wish you'd just told Feyd-Rautha your situation and gotten whatever awkward ensuing conversation over with.
In the evening Idrisa brings you dinner, more tea, and a glass of wine. “The Na-Baron has given you two hours before expecting you in his bedchambers.”
You sigh. “Thank you, Idrisa,” you tell her, not quite willing to add, you were right . You eat, you have your tea, you bathe and clean your hair. And in the remaining time that you have before you need to leave, you sip your wine. You’d be foolish to assume that it will truly settle your nerves, but it tastes nice.
“I guess it’s time,” you say finally, looking at the timepiece on your nightstand. “How angry do you think he’ll be?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, Na-Baroness,” Idrisa says as she opens the door to lead you to your husband. “He’s never been married nor been instructed to sire an heir before.”
When you get to his bedroom he’s already standing in the middle of it, wearing only black pants with a relaxed fit that suggests leisure, maybe sleep. And here you hadn’t taken him as the kind of man to own pajamas.
He looks over your shoulder at Idrisa, who seems just as surprised to see him as you are even as she immediately lowers her head in deference.
“Dismissed,” he tells her, and she curtsies and scurries out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone and rather more dressed than you’ve been in this room.
You stand, awkwardly, playing with the sash to your robe as the two of you look at each other in silence. Or rather, he stares at you and you look down, knowing what you’d rehearsed and still needing to force the words out.
“My apologies, husband, but it’s my time of month,” you finally manage.
“I know,” he says. “I could smell it on you. I could feel your rag in between your legs.”
Was that what he was doing? You look up at his face and find nothing that you can really parse and pause, unsure what you could say to that, before you move on.
“I know it’s not ideal, but we can try again in a few days, and in the meantime,” you try to sound like you’re not as nervous as you are, fully aware that seduction was never something you learned, “I know that there are…other ways to satisfy you.” A few days and we can resume trying to secure your firstborn .
He gives a small smirk at the second part of your statement but comments only on the first. “A few days?” he repeats, as if you’ve just said either the funniest or dumbest thing he’s heard all week. “What makes you think I care to wait a few days?”
You’re not sure you heard him right. “The blood,” you say slowly. “I can’t control it.”
“You think a Harkonnen would be scared of a little blood?” he says.
You’re not sure what to say to that. In hindsight, you’re not sure why you’d assumed that this man of all men would be too squeamish to fuck a bleeding woman.
“Strip down,” he says, after the seconds of silence that follow. He sounds so casual as he says it, as if he just told you to have a seat. You hesitate, still unsure if he’s being serious.
“Did you not understand me?” he prompts when seconds tick by and you haven’t moved.
“I do, husband,” say. “But still, I have to warn you that it’ll make a mess.”
“Y/N,” he says, his tone somehow light. There’s an element of danger to it. “You’re not the one who’ll have to clean up afterwards.”
Nor you , you think. “So you want me in this state.” You don’t phrase it as a question but he can hear the confusion in your voice.
The smirk never quite left his face but returns in full as he crosses the few steps over to you that leaves you close enough that you can feel his breath. He takes your wrist and presses your hand to his groin–it’s rapidly filling out.
“What do you think?” he says.
You gasp, almost giving an incredulous laugh as you glance between his face and back down to his groin. Harkonnen men are built differently, you suppose.
You pull away enough to unravel your robe and step out of your slippers. He doesn’t object to your garments being left on his floor instead of neatly tucked on his dresser, so you keep going, pulling your chemise over your shoulders, pulling down your undergarment and letting it slide down your legs, until you’re bared entirely for him.
He looks down at the blood that gathered in the kerchief lining the gusset of your undergarment as it hits the floor and you step out of it, and then he looks back at you.
“Hold your arms out like this, wrists together,” he says, extending his own to demonstrate.
He still doesn’t seem angry, his tone suggesting patience that you know he doesn’t have, but you hesitate before mimicking him.
“Very nice,” he says, and you bristle at his condescension as he half-circles you before heading for his armoire. You turn around to watch him open it, and your jaw drops when you see what’s inside.
It’s lined with whips, rope, chains, knives, scalpels, collars, and other items you’ve never seen before but if this is in his bedroom then it must serve one particular purpose, either on himself whoever has the misfortune of being with him when he wants to use any of these devices.
He glances over his shoulder and looks if anything delighted by your stunned reaction, the growing sense of dread. “I didn’t say you could drop your arms,” he says, and turns back to pick out a length of black rope.
You suppose you ought to be grateful that he didn’t pick out any chains.
You watch as he loops an intricate tie binding your wrists. He does it with such practiced ease he looks directly into your eyes as he does it. You manage to hold his gaze in defiance even as your heart hammers in your chest and you’re scared of what’s going to happen next. You know that, like a true Harkonnen, he likes your fear, but it hasn’t occurred to either of you yet that he also appreciates your fire.
“Get on all fours on the bed, pet,” he says, tone light and playful as much as his gravely timbre can make it.
You try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, making sure he’s never fully out of your sightline as you get on the bed, squirming but managing to maneuver the position he wants while your wrists are bound. He knows that you don’t trust him, and if anything that seems to elevate his excitement.
Good girl, he seems to be thinking. He looks you over, turning and sauntering so he can take a moment to gaze first at your naked profile, then at your backside.
You have to keep reminding yourself that he won’t do anything that will risk you being able to give him children as he turns away and pads over to his armoire. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s trying to decide what he’d like to use, or if he’s purposefully biding his time to make you more nervous. His fingertips seem to dance over the whips, then the chains. He briefly touches the handle to one of his knives.
Not the scalpel. Please not the scalpel.
You see it–corded leather. A black whip with multiple knotted tails. He takes it down from his display but leaves the armoire doors open–undoubtedly to keep reminding you of what else he could be and very likely will be doing to you in the future.
You think about the Bene Gesserit Litany and try to repeat it in your head as you consider the tool? the weapon? clutched in his fist. At first glance the whip looks like the cat-of-nine-tails your brother-in-law seems so fond of. However, when you shut your eyes, take a breath, and think of the words– fear is the mind-killer –you realize when you open your eyes again that what Feyd-Rautha��s holding is a lot smaller than a proper cat-of-nine-tails and the tails thicker. You have no doubt that this is going to hurt, but it doesn’t look like it will rip you apart.
“What, what is this? A punishment for bleeding? ” you finally ask, unable to handle the silence anymore and because that’s the only explanation you can imagine.
And yet Feyd-Rautha looks amused that you’d suggest it. “It’s because I want to use it on you,” he says, as if any further explanation would be silly. “Ever since I first saw you, I wondered what that pretty ass of yours would look like after I’d taken this to it.” He holds up the device for emphasis. “I wondered what noises you’d make. I wanted to know what you’d look like with your wrists bound, naked and helpless in my bed. What you’d look like squirming and bleeding.
“ Yesterday was a punishment,” he adds. “This is just fun.”
For you, perhaps, you think. It’s no matter; you’ll just have to prove that you can take whatever he dishes out. You just have to decide whether it’s better or worse that he’s not doing this out of anger.
“Are you scared, pet?” he asks.
“ No, ” you lie in the most adamant and dignified tone you can muster, and once again he acts like what you’ve said is cute. He clicks his tongue.
“You mustn’t lie to me in bed, pet,” he says, approaching the bed again, his free hand skimming over your ribcage, your side, your hip, as he finally stands beside the bed, and ever-so-slowly draws the corded whip up and down the backs of your thighs. The tassels brush gently against your skin and it feels perverse, the anticipation he’s building within you. On his second pass you inhale sharply, shutting your eyes, hips twitching away from the device, and Feyd-Rautha chuckles at that.
“Relax,” he says.
Fuck you. You know I can’t. Just do it and get it over with , you want to tell him with your sharp exhale, and one second later he draws his hand back and brings the whip down.
You cry out, rocking forward, your entire body clenching up as much from shock as pain. Nothing could really prepare you for this; his hand from the first night had been easier, more personal. The individual cords spread out like a fractal tree, like cracks in a block of ice fanning out.
The second time is less sharp, more of a thud that reverberates through your body, the impact reverberating in your pulse. Tears prick up at the corners of your eyes and for a moment you can’t breathe. It would figure that this man has used this device often enough that he knows how to inflict different flavors of pain depending on whether he’s putting the movement in his wrist or his forearm. You clench your fists, waiting for the next lash, and then the next.
Your nerves are on fire. You can barely think, barely focus on anything but the exquisite pain on impact, the sharp sting of the air against your impacted flesh, the sweet moments you adjust, finding your breath, before he comes down again. You don’t scream, not after the first blow, but the tears forming at the corners of your eyes start trickling down your face and then drop directly onto your forearms the covers below you when you bow your head.
You don’t know how long he keeps going, don’t keep count. The pain starts to dull but the intensity becomes overwhelming as he compounds on every lash. Your ears are ringing. You taste iron at the back of your throat. The worst part is that you find, to your horror, your nipples feel stiff. You start to feel wet.
It has to be a fear response. This isn’t enjoyable . It’s intense, it’s painful, and you can’t help but feel shame lance through you that your body would react this way.
Please. I can’t take any more , you want to tell him, but opt instead to whimper through your clenched teeth.
At that moment the whip comes down and it sends you toppling forward, finally collapsing. The covers are soft against your tear-stained cheek. You shut your eyes, panting, waiting for him to haul you back up and continue the process.
But nothing happens. You don’t try to look behind you and hope that he’s done. You just take a rattling breath and listen for the sound of the whip and its tendrils slicing through air, and it doesn’t come.
“You lasted longer than I thought you would,” Feyd-Rautha says, the first time he’s spoken in minutes, and you open your eyes and turn your head to see him twist the coils of his whip and head over to the armoire.
“Come on,” he says over his shoulder. “Back into position, pet.”
You grit your teeth and force yourself back up on your hands and elbows. “Good,” he adds softly, and it’s embarrassing how one single word of praise makes you flush, sends a pleasant tingle down your spine. This shouldn’t have the effect on you that it does–maybe it’s because now that it’s over, you feel lighter, almost dazed. All of your muscles had tightened into coils, but now you feel pliant to the point that your limbs feel rubbery. You’re exhausted. You’re hurt. You don’t know what else he has on the agenda for you tonight but you just hope it doesn’t involve another one of his whips or ropes.
He sets the device back in the armoire and turns to face you. He looks at your flushed, tear-stained face and smiles, mouth-closed before approaching the bed, his cock hard in his pants, and even though part of you wants nothing more than to melt into the bed and to get some relief for your stinging backside, you know he’s still going to chase his own pleasure.
‘He’ll want your mouth,’ you remember.
You won’t wait for him to force it or grind your face into his privates. If that’s what he wants, you’ll get there first, and so you drop your head and fumble as you reach with bound wrists for the fly of his pants.
You’re focused on what’s directly in your eyeline, so you don’t see his brief look of surprise, but you hear his voice, sounding pleased. “Let me help you with that, pet,” he says, pulling away long enough to pull his pants down, stepping out of them.
It’s even more daunting when it’s this close to your face, but he steps back in, cradling your jaw, and you lean in and lick the tip of him.
For a few seconds that’s all you know to do, to lick around him, feeling the ridges and veins under your tongue. It’s all the verification he could possibly need that you’ve never done this before, and that spurs him on, cradling your head in one large hand as the other guides himself past your lips and into your mouth.
It confirms what you suspected; he’s too big to take all the way and thankfully, doesn’t try to make you.
Not yet, a part of you thinks. You try to breathe, try not to get your teeth on him, try to relax and close your eyes as he controls the pace. It’s easy enough at first; far from the rutting of the past couple of nights. It doesn’t occur to you that, by his standards anyway, he’s being gentle with you. Doesn’t occur to you to wonder why. You just try to keep up as your backside and the backs of your thighs sting like hell and you hope Idrisa will have some sort of lotion for it when you get back to your quarters.
Feyd-Rautha appears to have yet another reason to like your hair, it seems, as he threads his fingers through it, guiding you onto him in slowly greater increments until he’s suddenly over halfway in and you freeze, nearly gagging, forgetting how to breathe.
He holds you in place for a moment, just long enough for your eyes to widen as you glance up at him and his heavy-lidded eyes and chest heaving with arousal. He waits until you’re about to struggle and tear away from him before he relinquishes your hair and steps away, pulling out. You take a deep breath, gulping the air down.
“Stay right there,” he says, and settles in behind you, stroking your hindquarters like you’re a horse that he’s trying to calm down. Will he put a saddle on you next? You exhale hard through your nose, mouth pursing, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he mark up the stinging raw skin he’s already flogged with his hand?
Fine. Fuck you again. I can take whatever you’ve got. I can handle it , you want to tell him out of spite. You sense him shift, dipping his head, and despite your steeled nerves can’t help but gasp and feel something flutter in your core when you feel his breath against your lower back.
What exactly is he–? is all you have time to think before he dives in.
You jolt and wriggle in shock as he licks over one of your growing welts; you can’t quite tell but wouldn’t be surprised if he broke skin. However, it’s how his tongue glides over your backside before shifting his weight to your folds that sends waves of shock, revulsion, and excitement as you cry out, stunned.
He’s licking my wounds .
You’re trying to wrap your head around how salacious it is that his lips and tongue alternate between licking the impacted skin on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs and dipping his tongue inside of you. He has your hips firmly in place, which serves him well given that you’re torn between recoiling away from the heat of his mouth and wanting to press back against it. You can feel him smirk at the sounds of your shocked moans.
He pulls away long enough to turn you on your back and you wince at the impact before you see him slide down along the bed and continue the onslaught. You can hardly believe it as he grabs your still-stinging buttocks and buries his face against your bleeding pussy.
This is disgusting , part of you thinks. Another part of you can hardly understand what’s happening. In all your years you’ve never met a man who didn’t recoil hearing about monthly courses. You’ve never heard of anyone wanting to taste a…a bloody gash .
Your wrists are still bound, and you grip onto the pillows above your head as he lifts your thighs to rest over his shoulders and dives back in, tongue pressing inside of you.
It feels incredible. You’d prefer it if it didn’t. More than anything else, you don’t want to be enjoying this, wish the continuous whines and moans he’s drawing out of you were insincere, but he can feel as well as you do that you mean every sound. You, Lady Y/N of the powerful and dignified house of Y/H, are getting your bloody pussy licked by the ruthless barbarian Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and Great Mother and every forgotten old god, you’re enjoying every visceral and shocking moment of it.
He knows it, too, the smug bastard. He probably feels even more powerful like this, on his belly and with his face between your legs, than he did when he was tanning your hide.
He raises one hand from your hip to your breast, giving one of your nipples a cruel pinch, smirking against your slit as you whimper in protest, and continues. His nose presses and rubs against your bud in the onslaught and you finally admit to yourself that any last vestiges of resistance you might have had has caved when you squirm, rocking your hips upwards and desperately wishing that your wrists were free so you could press his face closer into you.
He keeps up his pace, bringing you as close to the edge as possible without reaching it until finally, mercifully, he shifts his mouth to your bud, his fingers replacing his tongue inside of you. Your unrestrained cries fill the room, spurring him on, and then the force of it hits you as he brings you over the precipice for the first time. It feels like it comes in shockwaves, especially as he keeps going through it all.
You’re still pulsing and squirming against his tongue when he stops, raising himself up and leaning over you. Inky, sticky blood coats the lower part of his face, from his chin to his nostrils, and you’re a little surprised at how the sight doesn’t alarm you as much as it probably should, especially since that’s your blood covering his face.
There are far worse ways he could be smeared with your blood . You gasp, still, at the striking color against the pallor of his face, reminded of seeing him in the arena.
He presses damp, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts and collarbone, as if to mark you with it. Finally he sits up, bringing your legs over his as he guides himself into you with his bloodied fingers.
He stays upright as he pulls you onto him, and you watch his face as he looks down where you’re joined, his groan like a rumble in his chest as he sees himself pumping in and out of your bleeding pussy. He won’t last long, you realize. He’s been holding himself back from fucking you into the mattress since he visited you in your chambers hours ago.
He curves in then, bracing one hand above your head to grip your still-bound wrists as his other hand grabs your hip to keep you stable. You realize what he’s about to do a split second before it can happen.
He’s going to kiss you with that bloody mouth .
You tamp down on the revulsion of it and the coppery smell, again refusing to let him shock you or give you anything you can’t take and move in first, leaning up and capturing his mouth in a kiss.
He groans into it, hips pumping, tongue invading your mouth as he speeds up, going hard, hips snapping into you. He’s relentless; this would be agonizing if he hadn’t worked you open and pliant with his lips and tongue and even still, it veers on the edge of being overwhelming. Your whimpers and cries only encourage him.
And then he finally comes, burying his face in the crux of your neck and biting down, not hard enough to draw blood but enough that it will leave a bruise later.
For a moment the two of you stay that way, then he releases your wrists and sinks down onto you, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he pulls out and takes a moment to catch his breath. After a moment he raises himself back up on his forearms, pauses, and takes in the sight of your face and your lips stained red before reaching for your wrists again and untying the rope; once freed you notice that your skin’s been chafed rosy but still fully intact.
He gets up, and you watch the lines of his legs, the slope and curve of his buttocks, the taper from his shoulders to his waist as he gets up and sets the rope back in the armoire before finally closing it shut.
Guess he’s done for the night .
But is he going to send me back right away? you wonder, turning to your side to watch the way he moves. It takes some effort. You feel as depleted as a rung-out damp rag.
He approaches the bed and wordlessly holds out his hand, and once you take it guides you to your feet and leads you into this bathroom.
Like his bedroom, it’s larger than yours.
He doesn’t let you wash your blood off your body; he wants it to remain on you until it dries and peels off on its own. Instead he wipes his face, rinses and cleans out his mouth, and gives you a cup of water to do the same. He wipes off in between his legs and then yours, quiet and strangely peaceful. He takes another cloth and wets it, and then grabs a small bottle out of a drawer. “Turn around, hands on the counter,” he says.
Fairly certain you know what he’s about to do, you acquiesce. “Did you draw blood?” you ask over your shoulder.
He shakes his head. “Not this time,” he says. “Wasn’t trying to.” And then he surprises you by getting down on one knee.
You give a small gasp. It just seems…lewd? Subservient? And tired and sore as you are, you can’t help the twinge you feel in between your legs as he gingerly presses the cloth against your reddened skin. You grip the countertop tighter as he opens the bottle of what you can only assume is ointment because after a moment his fingertips are smeared in a cool balm that offers such sweet relief you drop your head, trying to hold yourself together when your legs feel like they’re about to give out and you can feel Feyd-Rautha’s breath so close to the sensitive skin of your backside.
He seems to be applying the ointment to the worst of the welts, starting in silence and then adding, “You’re sensitive, but you have a decent pain tolerance. I like that.”
You huff a laugh. I bet you say that to all the girls, you almost tell him, and immediately think that that’s probably not true. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s tending to your wounds you’d assume that he’d never do anything like this. Something tells you that this small act of kindness isn’t to be taken lightly or for granted.
Once he seems satisfied with his work he gets back up, sneaking a glance of your face in the mirror.
Is he thinking about how much you’ve already changed since you’ve met? Since you’ve married? When you see your reflection you don’t see the same person you did a week ago. Of course he didn’t know you a week ago. He barely knows you now. Still, when your eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you with something almost close to affection before he leaves the bathroom.
“Stay the night,” he says when you walk over to your abandoned clothes so you can gather them up, get dressed, and return to your chambers.
You look over at him.
“I’ll want to sample you again first thing in the morning,” he explains, “so it’s more convenient if you remain here.”
You huff, torn between incredulity and amusement. “Taking advantage of the situation while we still can, are we?” you ask.
“I doubt it’ll come again for another ten months,” he says, and then strides, still naked, for the door. He opens it, and a few words of battle-language later he shuts again. He sees your confused expression and explains, “Your slave was still waiting for you. I told her to go.” He tilts his head in the direction of his bed, and after a moment you follow. It appears that he doesn’t even want you to pull your undergarment back on.
As soon as you’re under the covers with him he tugs down your end of it to get one last look at your marked chest. And after he’s looked his fill, he reaches for a switch that turns off the lights and even as the two of you can’t quite see each other, you still find yourselves on your sides facing one another.
“I wake up earlier than you’re probably used to and I’m a light sleeper. Your slave assured me that you don’t snore,” he says.
“Not that I’m aware of,” you tell him.
“Once you stop bleeding I’m going to start having you train in my Halls,” he adds. “I was serious earlier.”
“But for the next few days I’m chained to this bed.”
“That could be arranged,” he says. “In any case you weren’t complaining when I was licking your cunt earlier.”
He won’t see your flush, but he must know that it’s there. “So… is it safe to assume that none of this is…” you try to find the right words, “typical? For a man, I mean.” And in quite possibly the biggest understatement you’ve ever made, “You’re not a normal man.”
You’ve adjusted enough to the dark to see his smirk. “I think you've known that since before we met, Y/N,” he says. And after a moment he lays his head, settling in and getting comfortable. He doesn’t say another word to you that night, just closes his eyes and within a couple of minutes his breath slows.
It’s hard to imagine being able to let your guard down enough with this man to sleep beside him, even if he falls asleep first. Like sleeping beside a wild animal.
Sleep does come to you, though, after long minutes watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up and scare you, lunge for you, and it doesn’t happen.
You turn to your other side, facing away from him then, and the only signal you get that he’s not entirely asleep is that as you start to drift off yourself, he reaches one arm to pull you in closer to him.
Tag list: @wo-ming-bai @blazeflays @richardslady121
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#feyd x reader#feyd rautha#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd-rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha smut#dune part 2#dune part two#feyd x you#dune fanfiction
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Hewwo :3 sooo I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing hcs for the characters' reaction to reader(MC) being a 10-12 year old girl?? Like a slightly bratty, but endearing and energetic type. Think preppy Sephora girl💀 that would be super great, don't push urself tho💚
Twst characters with a 12 y/o Mc!
A/n: Hellooo! So sorry for the wait but here it is! You didn’t tell me which characters so I hope you don’t mind about the ones that I picked!🤍
Characters: Vil, Ace, And riddle!
Platonic! Twst x fem!reader
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Vil Schoenheit
“Aren’t you too young to be wearing that?” “And aren’t you too old to be wearing that ton of makeup?”
Yeah vil didn’t like the slight attitude you had when you two first met.
But after getting to know you better during the VDC and after his overblot, you two became good buddies.
He treats you like a little sibling so just know that he will check up on you every now and then. (Especially if you’re out with the first year gang, he doesn’t want you to get in trouble or worse, hurt)
Will scold you from time to time when you act slightly bratty to him or anyone else. He can’t have you acting like that to anyone and will make sure you are respectful.(If it’s neige though…he might encourage you from the sidelines…)
Definitely will take you out to buy some clothes. Seriously headmage, how can you have a young child running around with used up/torn clothes? The media will for sure have a field day with this if they were to find out.
Shows you how to do make up. BUT, he still thinks you’re too young to be wearing it so he will only do it when he wants to experiment or when you want to take pictures together. (Which will only be light makeup)
Has rook look after you when he’s too busy to do it himself. You are a magic less girl from an unknown world so of course he’s going to be scared for your safety.
Makes sure you are stocked up with sanitary products. Big brother vil will make sure you are doing alright and have everything you need.
Girls night after a long day or exam week!
Tries not to post you too much on his magicam. He either posts you on close friends OR has a secret magicam account that only his close friends + you know about. He can’t have you being bothered by paparazzi or crazy obsessive fans.
Ace trappola
“Whose annoying little sister is this?” “Whose dumb son is this?”
Yeah…you and ace did not get along at first.
The two of you cannot go a second without arguing with one another about random stuff.
But after some time. The two of you get close and tada! You now have an annoying protective older brother ready to fight anyone who dares to insult/hurt you!
You two are a NIGHTMARE when you guys are together.
You guys will tease and make fun of people when the two of you are together.
PRANKS. DEAR LORD THE FREAKING PRANKS.
Poor deuce is a victim because of all the pranks you and ace pulled on him.
You guys both got collared by riddle this one time because the two of you decided it was going to be a good idea to switch riddles shampoo with pink hair dye.
He’s the type to literally burp or fart on you when you’re trying to do homework or just scrolling through twisttok.
Like it’s not even funny but HE thinks it’s the most hilarious thing in all of twisted wonderland.
And you think it’s the most annoying and disgusting thing ever.
Shares his snacks with you but starts complaining the moment the others asks for some.
He always makes sure you are safe when you guys are facing another overblot.
Invites you to his games and always brags about how awesome and cool he is. (Typical older brother behavior)
Will steal your snacks when you are not looking. Hey! He shares his food with you so it’s only fair you do the same.
Movies Nights with the first year gang is a must! Will literally laugh and record you as you scream and jump at every jump scare the movie has. (You always smack or throw a pillow at him. Demanding for him to delete it)
You force him to wear face masks and have a girls night with you. Will complain and whine but stills does it anyway to make you happy.
Riddle Roseheart
“Excuse me but that was very rude of you” “Eh? Why is a child trying to scold me”
Instant collar
Riddle will not tolerate such behavior and disrespect. Especially from a child!
Will take some time for him to warm up to you.
The constant rule breaking and the talk back was enough to turn him red and collar you every chance he gets.
But once he starts warming up to you, he stops and starts to treat you like a little sister.
You also stop with the rule breaking and the talk back. (Welll you stopped talking back and you TRY not to break as many rules)
Will help you study for any upcoming test or exams.
He can’t have you failing and having poor grades. So you better thank him for the good grades you currently have.
Invites you to unbirthday parties.
You for some reason love painting the roses red. So when you’re over at heartsalbyul, you help with painting the roses.
You wanted to make riddle happy so you spent a whole month learning the 810 rules of the Queen of hearts to make him happy.
And boy was he happy
Literally almost shed tears of happiness
Ace should learn a thing or two from you
Buys you cute tea cup sets! And also tried baking a tart for you with the help of Trey. (It turned out alright!)
Also protective of you
Gets mad when Crowley has you running around doing errands for him which he can clearly do HIMSELF.
You give him a heart attack every time you are out with the first year gang. He has both ace and deuce promise him nothing bad will happen to you when you are out with them. Or else it will be an instant collar.
Let’s you play and help him take care of the hedgehogs
-
A/n: This was so fun to write! Sorry if some are ooc🥲
#inuiiwonderland🤍#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#platonic twst#platonic twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst imagines#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland disney#twst heartslabyul#twst pomefiore#twst vil schoenheit#twst ace trappola#twst riddle rosehearts
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six
TW: violence, choking, mentions of bdsm, abuse of authority, cops, unfair power dynamics, harassment, body fluids and drug use mentions, mentions of harm/accidents
For California, it’s a bit chilly out this morning. The sun is getting a lazy late start, just beginning to yawn golden orange and fiery yellow over the horizon. Julian’s hair in that light is the high shine of fashion magazine model locs, and you’re, as usual, opening your mouth before you think. “What shampoo and conditioner do you use?”
He seems thoroughly amused. “Honestly? You’re going to be mad about it.”
“Try me,” you prod, slipping inside his little sports car that smells like lemon air freshener and coffee.
He seems a little cramped in the seat, knees bent up and head almost touching the ceiling, and you wonder if he actually even tried to get into this thing before buying it.
“It’s a rental,” he explains.
“Did you get into an accident?”
“A truck hit mine while it was parked.”
“How are you so calm about that? I’d punch someone.”
He looks over at you with a sculpted, raised brow. “I just cannot imagine you hurting a fly, y/n.”
“Flies are innocent, truck drivers are free game.”
He gives you a big laugh that strokes the flame of your ego. “You’re hilarious. I use men’s body wash.”
“What?” Okay, he’s right, you are a little mad. You use shampoo and conditioner that are specifically supposed to soften your hair, but the poof on your head absolutely pales in comparison to his soft, beautiful mane that gets the luxury of … what? Old spice? Axe body wash?
“I told you,” he sings, turning on the engine.
Genetics is a bitch.
He takes you to a fancy little French inspired coffee shop cuddled into the center of an outlet mall with salt lamps and big ferns and comfy chairs. You settle into a nook closests to the sunned windows so Julian can keep an eye on his rental, which is understandable. No part of LA is good to have a Porsche in, but especially not the inner city.
“This is delicious,” you tell him through a mouthful of warm croissant, covering your lips in embarrassment when you realize that your table manners are less than adequately prepared for a date with a doctor.
“They have the best coffee,” he agrees, taking a sip of his steaming latte.
You don’t have time to stop your brain from comparing Julian to a certain cop you know who prefers his coffee black and bitter, or at least that’s what he told you when he saw you drinking your vanilla cream cold foam at the nurse’s station.
Julian is talking, you think, and you’re only half listening while you remember how Tom had snatched that drink right out of your hands and held it up in the air.
“Give it back!” You hissed, reaching up on tiptoes while he laughed at the pathetic rescue attempt.
“Careful, honey, don’t hurt yourself for this pathetic excuse of caffeine. What is it anyway? Is there even coffee in here?”
After he walked away with his discharge paperwork, your coworkers were understandably curious about the tall, puckish cop who fucked with you any chance he got.
Miguel watched his ass move the whole way down the hallway and out the glass exit doors while literally clutching the rosary under his scrub shirt as if a devil had just walked by, then looked over at you. “What a man.”
“Are you alright?” Julian asks, bringing you back to the present conversation with a hand over your forearm. He does seem concerned, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit. This guy is a gentleman and here you are on a date with him fantasizing about the brute that is Tom Ludlow.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You wave away his concern. “Tell me about you, Julian. What do you do for fun? Doctor-by-night, Violin-player-by-morning?
He chuckles. “Nothing that cultured. I like riding motorcycles.”
“Really?” You ask, genuinely surprised and trying to imagine Julian in a gang of bikers with cracked leather skull and snake jackets.
“I love them.” He nods. “I have three that I take for long rides along the coast. You get lost in it, the wind and salt and sand. The rumble of the engine under you.”
“I’ve never been on one,” you tell him, “and I’m honestly surprised you ride them after what we see in the ER. Don’t you remember that guy that had his calf hanging on by a tendon? Or that woman who had half her face missing?”
“Yes, I do. But I go the speed limit and wear the proper gear. And I like the thrill.”
It’s not just the casual t-shirt and worn jeans or the way the light halos his thick silk nest of hair or the roguish grin that makes you see Julian in an entirely new way, now. “You’re wild, Dr. Mercer.”
He licks spilled cream at the ridge of his coffee cup, rubs at the skin of your forearm with his fingers, and winks. You wonder what he would look like between your legs doing the same thing, except with your fingers gripping that luscious hair.
“You should let me take you for a ride, sometime,” he suggests, and for a minute you forget you’re talking about motorcycles.
“Oh, I don’t know, Julian.”
“C’mon.” He nudges your knee under the table and relaxes back into his seat, now reminding you too much of someone else you know. Same height, same hair color, same facial structure.
Fuck. Really?
“Good boyfriends take their girlfriends on long, romantic motorcycle rides.”
“But you’re not my boyfriend.”
His smile droops a little bit and it makes you feel bad for being so illiterately ignorant. Well, you feel bad until he opens his mouth. “I am, though.”
He paints it playful, but it sounds a little bit pushy-bossy, even. “I don’t know about that, either, Julian.”
He tries a different angle. “You know, believe it or not, most women would consider me quite the catch.”
You hope your face doesn’t betray the little bit of ick you get from him saying something so egotistical. “I don’t doubt it, and you deserve someone that can give you what you’re looking for.”
“You think you can’t give me what I’m looking for?” He leans across the table in sudden intensity, and you balk at the notion.
“No, I honestly don’t.”
“Why?”
You start to say something, but he cuts you off. “And, I really mean why? Why can’t you give me what I’m looking for? Enlighten me.”
“I’m not-I have too much baggage.” You unconsciously lean away from his swelling intensity.
“That’s a little vague.” He frowns.
“I’m not normal, Julian. You seem like you would like normal women.” You cringe at the childish sentiment, but truly have no idea how to get the point across except for basically telling him that you’re a freak with a bad past and worse coping mechanisms. You eat slices of bread for dinner and drink out of the milk carton. Julian probably irons his shirts. This will not work.
“You’re assuming I’m normal?”
“Yes. I guess I am.” You lean back and cross your arms over your chest.
“Well, I’m not. In fact, I’ll prove it to you.” He takes out his wallet, pulls a laminated card from it, and slides it over the table to you.
“What..” It’s a little red card framed in black with big bold letters on the front advertising a BDSM club in the heart of downtown Venice. “What is this?”
“BDSM is bondage, domination-“
“I know what that is,” you interrupt. “I just meant.. You go here?”
“I do.” He nods and takes a drink. “I occasionally engage in scenes.”
You decide that you should coat your suddenly very dry mouth and drink a big gulp of your coffee. “Like with a dominatrix?”
He laughs at you, puts his head in his hand and shakes his head. “No. I prefer to be the dominant one.”
You look at-really, really look at this man for the first time and honestly cannot imagine him taking that role.
He must see the confusion on your face, because his laughter grows. “That’s the usual reaction I get.”
Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the-you know what, fuck it.
“So, what do you do at the club?”
“A typical play scene, you mean?” How in the hell he can be so casual and relaxed about this you’re not sure. Because you can already feel the cold sweat breaking along your shoulders and neck.
“I guess? Yeah.”
“Well, ideally the woman is tied up in some fashion, and of course there’s a safe word, negotiated limits. Perhaps a punishment scenario with pain play. Are you okay?”
He looks at your table-clutching, white knuckled hands, searches your face, giving you a genuine concerned expression that makes you wonder what actually is going on with you right now. You feel like you're on a tightrope over a ravine of crocodiles and Julian’s on the other end lazily sawing at the rope with dull scissors.
“I’m fine,” you say breathily, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about all that.”
His gentle smile is nothing less than kind, though maybe also, a little disappointed. “I get that a lot too.”
“Is that…the only way you enjoy sex?” you ask quietly, leery of the blue-haired old lady just two tables away.
“No,” he seems happy to tell you. “Though it is…the way I enjoy sex most.”
You blink, digesting this with understandable trepidation. He’s basically telling you that it would be impossible to be in a relationship with him without dipping into this eventually. And you…?
Are definitely intrigued, and you’re not really sure why.
“You said you have baggage,” Julien probes cautiously. You can feel him looking at you, but you’re not quite up to eye contact with him yet. You fix your gaze out the window. “Well, I do too. I haven’t had a perfect life. No one does, and I’m not interested in a perfect girlfriend. I like you, y/n.”
You feel your breath go out in an audible whoosh. It actually makes him smile-you feel it like rays of the sun. How can this man be so warm, and yet have such a dark side?
Well, maybe it’s not a dark side, you reason. Maybe it’s just…a thing he likes, and between consenting adults, what’s the harm?
“So…” You can’t help but think about how odd this is, discussing this in this coffee shop filled with mild-mannered caffeine addicts. What you really want to ask, is what happened to him that makes him like this kind of sexual play, but you know it would be too far, and you damn well don’t feel like talking about your own fucked up past. But there is something you do feel you have a right to know. “Is this something you want to do to me?”
Again, he fixes you with that bad boy smirk that gives you chills and utterly ruins your panties. “Since the moment you stood up to me over that patient,” he admits. And maybe that should alarm you, that he wants to tie you up and hurt you for being defiant about something that deserved defiance. It does alarm you, but… It also… It sounds a little thrilling. “In fact-“
Julian and the rest of the world and even your own thoughts disappear when you meet a pair of familiar, sun tinted eyes out the window of the coffee shop. He’s grinning-when is he not grinning at you like he knows what it does to your helpless insides?-and licking his fingers, tearing off a yellow parking ticket to slap it under the windshield of Julian’s rental.
“Uh, Julian-“
“Just let me finish,” Julian insists. His bossy tone irritates you, but Tom brightens the mood by making a jerking off motion towards the doctor, and then winking at you.
You can���t help but laugh. It’s honestly involuntary, the loud wheeze that tears from your chest and makes Julian look outside to see the yellow ticket shining under his wiper as Ludlow’s ass saunters away.
You’re not sure what Julian’s plan is when he storms outside to catch Ludlow by the arm, but you’re definitely following ten strides behind to prevent his untimely death.
“I’m parked legally.” His voice is a menacing growl instead of the smooth honey you’re used to, and yeah, maybe now you can see a little bit of that Dominant Persona he was talking about.
“Not after 9AM,” Tom says, unbothered by Julian’s anger, still grinning like an idiot.
“It’s eight-thirty,” Julian argues, tugging on Tom’s sleeve-that earns him a bent back arm and even the appearance of handcuffs.
“Tom, stop it, fucking really?”
“Sorry, honey, your boyfriend’s going to jail.”
“For what?!” You and Julian both demand at once.
“Putting his pristine fucking hands on what’s mine.” Tom tugs Julian up on his toes and clicks one handcuff into place.
You hope he means his uniform, but you have a feeling he doesn’t.
“That’s way too tight and you know it,” Julian grunts.
“What, someone likes to dish it out but can’t take it? Don’t be a bitch,” Tom muses, grabbing Julian’s other arm and twisting it-not gently-behind his back.
“Tom, you fucking dickhead.”
He looks at you as he’s putting the other cuff on your date. “Oh, I’ll deal with you later.” His grin looks more like a snarl at this point, and you think that Julian could probably take some pretty good Dom pointers from Tom, because your heart is galloping and your clit is pulsing despite the absolute absurdity of the situation. Also-it's a miracle-your sassing mouth has snapped shut.
After Officer Ludlow practically throws Dr. Mercer into the back of his Charger, slamming the door, he turns to you with a smirk and his thumb in his belt. Goddammit, if that fucking look doesn’t go straight to your lady parts.
“Tom…you cannot do this.”
A tow truck has pulled up, and is in process of impounding the sweet little Porsche.
He steps up to you in those big black boots that make him a mile tall.
“You’d be surprised what I can and cannot do, sweetheart.”
“Please.” You hate how desperate you know you sound.
He taps his chin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. But it would be a lot more convincing if you got on your knees and said it.”
“You asshole,” you seethe, even as you can feel the moisture pooling between your legs.
“That kinda language definitely isn’t going to get Doctor Bitch Boy out of my car.”
“What the fuck do you want then?” You know it was a stupid question the moment it flies from your mouth. He’s going to reply with something filthy, and demeaning, and-
“Have dinner with me.”
You’re going to need another tow truck just to get your jaw up off the ground.
“You’re going to get in trouble for this,” you say. “This isn’t harassing a lowly broke-ass nurse. He is going to sue the shit out of you.”
Tom just snorts at that, unimpressed. “Did you know your friend likes to hang out at a BDSM club in Venice Beach? Whips and chains and shit? Bet this asshole has mommy issues from here to Pasadena. Come on, y/n, you don’t need that in your life.”
It almost sounds like he’s…worried about you?
Officer Ludlow has no idea how badly he’s misjudged you, now that he’s pissed you off. “Maybe I like it,” you snipe back, stretching up so you’re almost in his face. “Fact is, it’s none of your fucking business.”
Ludlow just narrows his eyes down at you, those dark orbs glinting like sharp obsidian. “Well, sorry, guess he’s not tying you up tonight, baby. He’s gotta cool down in the tank.”
He makes to go, but you reach out, not grabbing him, per se, but just touching his chest. He freezes, and you can practically feel him vibrating beneath your hand. With excitement, because he fucking lives for being an asshole, or…you hate to think you know the real answer.
His mitt of a hand covers yours, holding it just above his heart.
“Tom….” Caught up in this tension between you, you’re not even sure what you’re asking now.
You expect him to say something dirty, or snide, but instead you swear that just for a moment, his gaze softens as he looks down at you. “Dinner?” he asks again, with a note of hope in his voice that is almost endearing, if he wasn’t being such a class A jerk.
“I can’t.”
His demeanor changes in less than a second, drawing up to his full height, his shoulders squared. He flicks down his sunglasses that were on his head, so you can no longer even see his eyes. His voice changes, drops an octave, something. The authority in it makes you shudder inside. “Wave to Dr. Bitch Boy, y/n, we’re going for a little ride.”
Before you can grab him, or do anything, really, Tom is behind the wheel, speeding off with a very pissed off Julian in the back seat.
Your heart drops to your feet as you are left standing there alone on the sidewalk without a ride, and completely at a loss as to what to do.
***
“I’m going to fucking sue you,” Julian grits, kicking the back of Tom’s seat for good measure.
“Yeah, yeah, with your doctor money,” Tom grumbles, taking a big swig of coffee with one hand and steering recklessly with the other because it’s fun to watch that skinny fuck bounce around helplessly in the seat.
“I’m not getting booked tonight, Officer Ludlow. I’m calling my fucking lawyer.”
“Sorry, Doctor Bitch, your Lawyer’s busy until tomorrow afternoon, didn’t you hear?”
“You son of a-“
Tom gasses the car over a big pothole and it sends Julian flying into the opposite door. It’s a sight he could almost get off to.
Julian, big goose egg swelling up on his temple, gets yanked out of the squad car and tossed on the shit smeared, needle peppered streets of South Central. “They probably need you here more than the hospital, Doctor. Have fun–”
“Wait! Fuck. I’m still cuffed for fuck’s sake!” Tom gives the little guy credit for being able to get up on his feet so fast with his hands behind his back and a probable minor concussion. “You can’t leave me here.”
Tom pauses with his hand on the lip of the hot car door, but only to memorize the sight of a sweat-stained, wild eyed, trembling distinguished doctor about to get his shit wrecked on the mean LA Streets. He’s guessing Julian’s never visited much outside of Hollywood, Venice, and Santa Monica, and the cute little horrified expression on his face is testament to that.
Tom taps the hood of his car. “See ya, Doc.”
“You know,” Julian says, “this isn’t going to stop me from seeing her, Tom.”
Well, if he wants a fight.
Tom slams the charger door, whips off his belt, backs Julian up until he falls on his ass into a steaming puddle of unknown origin, and loops the leather around his neck.
He tugs him up by the belt, onto his toes, eliminating that fraction of height difference just so he can see the whites of this prick’s eyes.
He doubles the wrap of the belt in his fist, and Julian sputters something unintelligible through a thick choke.
“What’s wrong? Thought you liked this shit?” Tom pretends to wait for an answer that he prevents. “Oh, that’s right, you like being the one doing the choking. That gets your dick wet, huh? Beating on women?”
He wants nothing more than to choke this fucker unconscious and leave him on the streets for the hepatitis rats to chew on his toes, and, fuck it, if he ends up passing out by the time Tom’s done saying his peace, then so be it.
“You can see her all you want, asshole. Take her on as many dates as you like. But if I see one fuckin’ bruise on her-one red mark on that pretty skin-I’m gonna make the rest of your short life very fucking unpleasant. Comprende?”
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“Kiss me like you don’t need air. Hold me like you can’t let go. Love me like you’d die without me.”
- Sarah Doughty
#quotes#words#author quotes#
“Keep your face always toward the sunshone- and shadows will fall behind you.”
- Walt Whitman
“There are so many beautiful reasons to#not 2 in the morning when you’re lonely.”
- Unknown
“Feelings are just visitors#let them come and go.”
- Mooji
“It’s become very apparent to me that the older you are the less praise you’re going to get. When you’re 3#they give you gold stars. When you’re 10 and you score a goal#they take you out for ice-cream. But when you’re 17 and struggling to fit in#no one gives you a hug just for making it through the day. And when you’re 23 and pulling long hours at the office#no one asks if you’re alright. And you start to wonder if you are#if there’s a point to any of it. The answer is yes. Because good work#real good work that shapes your character#doesn’t need to be acknowledged. You grow in the silences#in the reflections#in the inhales and exhales that let you know you’ve made it from one moment to the other.”
- Unknown
“Kiss me like you don’t need air. Ho#and that I’ll die yelling and laughing.”
- Jack Kerouac
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
#this is very silly#i just wanted to get it out of my drafts#i’ve had this thought for a while but#i decided i didn’t want to write a whole drabble so now you get this#kento being inexperienced at dating & not enjoying it is very special to me#and so is him having a cat tehe#selfship coded i suppose bc reader is me but it’s not that obvious i hope#beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#nanami x reader#xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#jjk x reader#nanami x you#nanami fluff#nanami x gender neutral reader
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Competing With Gods
Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader
Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you
Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.
Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.
Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”
The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”
“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”
“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”
“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.
“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”
“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.
As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”
“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”
He just gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.
Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”
“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.
Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”
“He looks 18!” she insisted.
“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”
“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.
Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”
Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.
~
That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”
Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.
When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.
He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.
When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”
He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.
Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.
Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.
So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.
“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.
She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.
Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.
The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.
~
The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.
As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.
“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.
Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.
Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.
“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.
“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.
Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.
“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”
Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.
After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.
The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.
They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.
So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.
While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.
Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.
Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.
“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.
The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”
“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”
The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”
Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.
“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.
Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.
Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.
Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”
Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.
He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?
Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.
That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.
“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”
Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.
“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.
“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.
Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”
She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.
She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”
“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”
“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.
Masterlist
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#pjo#pjo x reader#the lighting thief#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#x reader#apollo#apollo x reader
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the physical - miguel o’hara
pairings ❀ ⋮ doctor!miguel x shyf!reader
₊❏❜ content ⋮ dubcon/cnc, d/s dynamics // doctor taking advantage of their patient, nipple play & nipple stimulation, blue balls, soft dom, sweet tempered mig, vag fingering, squirting, ehh aftercare ?? porn with a taboo subject. slight dirty talk, nicknames, n somewhat begging.
note ⋮ sorta got lazy w this lmfao, this is one of so many drafts i have lingering around in my pile.
not proofread !
✧*･ﾟ
there you were, anxiously fidgeting around with your fingers. waiting patiently to be called on.. and you mean very patient.
what?
you wanted them to take their time so you wouldn’t have to walk into the examination room. this was going to be your first physical and you were really nervous. and it showed when the heel of your foot intensely bounced rhythmically off the floor.
“y/n” the nurse called out as your anxiety heightened. you smiled awkwardly standing up, lowering your head as you walked past the other patients and into a small room.
“i’ll just take your blood pressure real quick~” the nurse hummed, grabbing the small machine and undoing the velcro as she wrapped it around the fat of your arm.
with a faint click the cuff began to tighten, cutting off your blood flow for a moment. your arm became numb and tingly as you a felt short pulse on it — and with a whoosh, the cuff finally released you.
“excellent! now just change into this robe — make sure to be completely naked under it, and the doctor should be in pretty soon.” the nurse said. “you look nervous is it your first time?” the nurse asked.
“yeahh..”
“don’t worry he won’t bite.” the lady playfully rolled her eyes, flashing you a reassuring smile as she elbowed you.
“he?” you blurted out, eyes widening.
“i know it may seem weird, but he’s a gentlemen.” the lady added, seeing your expression she tried consoling it.
but that only caused you to worry more.
“it’ll go well don’t worry!” she said, heading out her way she waved at you and wished you good luck.
you stood there processing the whole thing and imagining all the possibilities of embarrassment you’re going to have to go through. you slowly exhaled. “oh my gosh, fuck me for coming here.” you whined to yourself as you moved on to removing your layers of clothing - you took your shirt off and unclasped your bra, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding it down your thighs along with your panties. you then reached for the robe and wrapped it around your naked body. you folded your clothes neatly into a stack as you placed it on a small desk besides you.
you then sat atop the table, waiting patiently.
just then a audible knock fulfilled your ears as your head perked up to meet eyes with a males.
your heart stopped beating for a second.
oh shit.
this guy was so fine he could literally be on a magazine cover.
you couldn’t help but wonder if this man was single or if he had a very lucky girlfriend.
“how’s your morning going, love?” the man asked, casually calling you a nickname that made you stop in your tracks and turn red.
“good.”
you began pinching yourself as you slightly pouted. ‘fuck fuck fuck’
“did you eat any breakfast?” he asked, giving the hint of wanting to start a conversation.
“nothing, really.” you lied, faking a smile. “me too, i was in a rush so i just decided to chew on some gum for the moment.” he grinned, clicking his pen as he picked up your files, tapping it on his desk tidying up all those loose sheets of paper into a neat stack.
“oh.”
what a plain response.
“well then, let’s begin shall we?” he proposed with a smile as you nodded.
“alright—first and foremost, i’m going to listen to your heartbeat.“ he said, stepping closer to you as he gently pushed down the robe and pressed the stethoscope to the center of your chest.
“breathe in~”
you inhaled and held your breath, all while his eyes ogled yours.
“breathe out~”
“again, breathe in..”
“and breathe out~”
“are you nervous?” he asked, raising a brow.
‘kill me’
“..no”
“really?”
“..yes”
“honey, you’re a very bad liar.” he chuckled as you felt yourself heat up.
“take a deep breath.” he smiled. “your heart rate is a little rapid, which may be due to your adrenaline rush — but it’s totally normal since most find it awkward being around the opposite sex during this exam.” he reassured, “it’s nothing new dear.”
“right.” you awkwardly laughed, nodding your head in agreement as you looked away.
“i get if you may feel weird, i’ll try my best to make you feel welcomed.” he smiled.
“thank you, i appreciate it.”
and you really did appreciated it. you knew what he was trying to do. you’ve been observing it — and this proved your point. he was trying to make you comfortable in the short amount of time you two had together.
“well, i’m now going to move on to examine your hair and mouth.” he chimed, slipping on some blue gloves as the rubber snapped to each of his wrists.
his fingers cordially ran through your luscious hair, mindfully massaging small circles on each of your temples. “que bella.” he commented, making you smile, “thank you.”
he then moved on to cup your face conscientiously, gently tilting your head to the side as he brushed your hair behind your ear. he couldn’t help but scrutinize your unique features.
“you’re really pretty.” he added, making your smile widen even more. “thank you,” you replied, “i’d say the same about you.” you wanted to return the compliment but the words slipped out of your mouth, giving him the idea you found him attractive.
“really? i’m quite old so it’s nice to know the good looks still haven’t wore off yet.” he laughed.
“oh, how old are you?” you asked curiously perking your head to the side.
“how old do i look? be brutally honest, no offense taken.”
you squinted your eyes, now it was your turn to examine his features.
his dark hair was neatly slicked back, no grey hair to hint his age nor any visible wrinkles—rather his bronzed skin looked flawless, and his lips weren’t even chapped. neither did they look cracked or dry, they looked soft, plump and rich. his outfit was nicely chosen and put together. he looked formal and neat..and hot. he stood around six foot with an attractive physique.
“twenty seven?” you guessed wildly, “wow that really boosts my ego, i’m in my early thirties.” he chuckled, flashing you a smile that made your heart throb.
there’s no way he could’ve been older than thirty. “you’re being for real?” you snorted before you abrupt into a contagious laughter.
“no like actually, i am. but thank you love, that definitely made my day.” he thanked with a tender warm smile that made your heart clench and swing your legs like a teenage girl in love.
“okay, cariño. let’s check your mouth now, yea? ahh — ” he demonstrated sticking out his tongue as he pointed to his mouth.
“aaahh.”
“good girl.”
his thumb pressed on your chin, adjusting his glasses to further inspect you as his eyes squinted.
god he was so close to you, his warm breath smelled like the mint flavored gum he was chewing on ~ and oh his cologne. it smelled so good, and so manly it had you swooning.
he carefully placed a popsicle stick on the flat of your tongue, slightly pushing it down and past your throat making you gag.
“that remind you of anything?” he grinned, raising a brow and he couldn’t help but smirk at your confused expression.
“wh-hat?” you choked out, curling your hand into a fist as you hit your chest in attempts to calm down your choke.
“nothing dear,” he cleared his throat with a smug smile, continuing to chew on his gum as if nothing happened.
you didn’t get it.
he finished writing something on his notepad as he clicked his pen, satisfied.
“mkay i’m going to ask you a few simple questions..” he went on, “first question, how often do you exercise?”
“two to four times a week.”
“excellent. are you feeling any abnormal pain or discomfort, if so where do you feel the pain or discomfort?”
“no, and no where.”
“any use of drugs, alcohol anything particularly?”
“nope.”
“are you sexually active?”
“..no..”
“are you practicing safe sex?”
you looked up at him, “..no?”
that sounded as if you were questioning yourself.
“when was the last time you’ve been penetrated?”
you fell silent..hoping he’d get the message. but he didn’t seem to read your expression like you anticipated to.
“i’m a virgin.”
“oh..”
“okay.” he raised his brows trying to not give you the impression he was surprised by your answer. like look at you, you looked so gorgeous sitting there all flustered.
he glanced down adjusting his glasses again as he scribbled something down on his note pad before turning back to you.
“just need you to lay down for me and put your feet on the stirrups.” he smiled as you followed the given instructions, leaning backwards until your back hit the cold leather as he helped you put your feet in and onto the stirrups, lacing them secure.
“scoot closer,”
you propped your elbows on the table, scooting your bum closer.
“more..”
you scooted further, just inches away from his pelvis, yet that still wasn’t enough - “just a little more..”
gosh. how close did he want you to be? you scooted just a teeny tiny bit more.
he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to his likings, your pelvises were so close it was centimeters away from one another’s. but to make matters worse he decided to close the gap — your groin making contact with his as your breath hitched in your throat.
your robe rose up, feeling his bulge brush against your pantie-less cunt as he took a step back. he definitely felt that. clearing his throat, he looked away pretending he didn’t see anything.
you pulled your robe down in embarrassment, blood rushing to your cheeks.
“my bad,” he coughed, “just wanted to make sure you were close enough.” he reasoned.
“anyways, i need to examine your breasts so if you mind..” he expressed, signaling you to pull your robe down from the shoulders.
you took a deep breath, breaking eye contact you slowly started to undo the knot but were too embarrassed to completely pull it off your breasts — so he did it for you.
his ginormous hand skimmed past your breast before taking a handful in his palm, fondling and squishing it as if it were some stress toy.
he continued to chew on the gum expressionless whilst thumbing your sensitive nipple making you bite your lip. with his pointer finger and thumb he rolled the bud in between the pads of his fingers before slightly tugging at it.
you let out a gasp, and he raised a brow.
oh, weren’t you sensitive?
he decided to tease you more.. twisting the bead in his finger pads and tugging at it again.. and again and again. you didn’t notice you were squirming the whole time, your brows were knitted together and you didn’t even realize you were letting out soft moans. once you finally had the confidence to meet his stare he tugged on your poor nipple harder causing you to let out a loud whimper that made you bite your tongue. and before letting go, he decided to give you one last harsh squeeze.
by the end of his little examination he knew he had left you hot and bothered.
he wanted to continue toying with you, those cute little sounds you were making made his dick twitch in his pants.
“all normal and healthy.” he muttered lowly, eyes darkening with a hidden arousal.
opening a drawer he reached for a weird looking contraption as he dug further, pulling out a small liquidy tube.
“i’m now going to need a quick sample of your mucus, it’s to test for any infections.” he explained, “f-y-i it’s gonna hurt, but don’t worry i’ll make it as quick as possible.” he added, “by the way this is a speculum and it’ll y’know go inside—you get the idea.“
you nodded awkwardly as he stepped forward yet again. “may i?”
you nodded slightly embarrassed as you gave him consent, he slowly pushed your robe, displaying your bare cunt.
his thumb swiped against your naked mound, uncapping the bottle you felt a cold liquid pour onto your warmth, making you gasp. your lower body writhed, bucking at the feeling.
“sorry i should’ve warmed it up for you darling.” he cooed, his snug palm rested on your pubic bone to warm it up, lathering the lubricant all over you. and when you were ready he slowly slid the speculum inside, opening the blades you let out a strained groan. it revealed your insides and the back of your cervix.
bloody hell did it sting — the cool breeze was a weird sensation. but boy have you never felt so exposed before. a small cotton swab gently swiped on the inside of your inner wall causing you to let out another painful hiss.
“all done” he murmured, putting the cotton swab into a small ziploc bag and into a envelope. closing the contraption and slowly pulling it out of you, you let out a sigh of relief. “feelin’ okay?” he asked, caressing your arm.
“i-i’m fine” you sighed shakily.
“if you say so” he smiled, checking off something in his notepad before beginning once again, “last but not least i’ll be checking for any tenderness, growths and any tumors inside you. so while i’m at it try to think of something hot and exciting — being naturally turned on helps with getting better results.” he suggested, making some shit up.
you blinked, “..i don’t know what to think about though”
“think about me fucking you or something” he scoffed, blurting out something so taboo it made you blush.
“w-what?”
“i’m kidding” he laughed, “i mean.. unless you’re actually into that type of stuff” he cleared his throat, searching for any visible reaction on your face from the corner of his eye.
“n-no, no not at all — that’s wrong, very wrong.” you reasoned, trying to prove your innocence. “you’re nervous” he pointed out. “am not!”
“oh really? your body language is telling me a whole different story” he smiled, “no need to be ashamed about your fantasies”
“i-i’m not ashamed!” you snapped back,“so sensitive..” he chuckled, as you realized your back felt hot and all sweaty.
oh boy did he know how to rile you up.
‘he was only playing.’ you reminded yourself, slowly exhaling.
“let’s get started shall we?” he voiced teasingly - his hand trailed down your abdomen as his finger pads ghosted over your soft skin sensually hovering over your entrance. his touch sent butterflies to abrupt in your tummy, and that’s when you shut your lids tight feeling his digits slip past your folds ever so smoothly. like a dip in warm honey, a slight whimper escaped your lips from the ecstatic feeling.
his thumb crept up to add pressure to your clit, experimentally toying with you. but he wasted no time in setting a steady pace as his experienced fingers lewdly slid in and out of you. you moaned softly, aroused with the excitement exploding through your body.
he began searching for anything abnormal - but of course he put more effort into finding your gspot.
you couldn’t help but yelp once his finger tips curled upwards.
bingo.
it didn’t take him to long to find that sweet gummy spot he’d been looking for as he was already familiar with the female anatomy. your thighs twitched and clamped around his hand as he purposely began to brush up against your sweet spot — aiming his fingertips against that certain nerve making you moan loudly.
he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
your mouth hung open, your eyes searched for his as they twinkled with lust. “feels good doesn’t it?” he asked, breaking through your pleasure. “fuck please” you breathed out.
“hm please what mami?” he praised as his fingers continued their assault on your sobbing cunt, fucking into you in all the right places.
you curiously looked downwards as the visual stimulation sent pleasurable shocks throughout your body.
his other hand came to slap your clit making you jump,
“answer me.”
you opened your mouth but the only thing that came out was a whine.
“i know you aren’t that fucked out, answer me nena.”
“please wanna cum —!” you whined pathetically, shutting your eyes harshly.
that’s when you felt your orgasm approaching, your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist in attempts to stop him before you shattered into pieces.
“is that so baby? wanna cum on your doctors fingers hm?” he teased with that cocky grin of his. the thought of your doctor fingering you so lewdly made your pussy throb.
an intense sensation formed in the pit of your stomach as it slowly began unraveling, but before you could even hit that euphoric bliss he slipped his fingers out with a smug grin, a groan tearing from you throat.
he tore off the blue latex gloves in one swift movement, his fingers teased your slit, obscenely spreading them out as he spat at your clit, the saliva running down and coating your contrasting hole before slipping his ring and middle finger back into your glistening cunt.
the new sensation of his textured finger pads caused a shiver to run down your spine. the feeling of the warm texture rubbing on your bare velvety walls felt so good it had you bucking into his palm.
“such a fucking tight pussy” he growled, his thumb roughly rubbing circles on your sensitive pearl. colorful pigmented dots formed in your eyesight like a static tv before your eyes began rolling back.
you moaned loudly, his fingers skillfully fucking you roughly as your back arched off the leather seat. your pussy clenched around his fingers as he bumped into your gspot again, n again, n again.
and before you knew it you were a whining mess, squirting everywhere and ruining his clothes.
it atleast took you a minute or two to recover, and when you snapped back into reality you found your doctor calmly cleaning you up.
“oh my—“
“i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone come as hard just from fingering.” he chuckled, “what a show baby, you were so responsive.”
“you’re all healthy dear, come back in a year or so — that was just the beginning.”
part two.
#feistyfreaks#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara spiderverse#kinktober#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel fanfiction
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pink princess
words: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, female receiving oral, girly!reader, violence, blood, rafe beats someone up, kelce is the bad guy in this D:
“i just don't get it rafe.” kelce shakes his head.
“what?” rafe mumbles, barely paying attention to his friend. even topper seems barely interested, both too focused on the football game playing on the television.
“how you could date a girl like y/n.”
your name has rafe snapping to attention, turning to glare at kelce. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” rafe has only been your boyfriend for a couple months now, but he wouldn't question beating the shit out of his friend if he insulted you.
“don't get me wrong, the girl is nice and all. i like her she's just so… girly.” kelce says like it's an insult. “she only ever wears pink, she's all sweet and innocent. she's just not your type, that's all. im surprised.”
you let out a little sound, all of the boys attention snapping to you, kelces eyes widening when he realizes you have entered the living room.
“baby.” rafe coos softly. “come here.”
you cross over to rafe, rounding the couch to plop on his lap, keeping your head down to avoid looking at kelce.
“don't listen to him, princess.” rafe says softly, his voice so sweet, in contrast to the scared look on kelces face. “you're exactly my type.”
“shit rafe, i-i-didn’t mean-i didn't know she was-”
“get the fuck out.” rafe says, voice still soft as he pets his hand over your back, hating the pout that graces your sparkly gloss painted lips.
“rafe-” kelce tries to argue.
“no. get the fuck out. you're lucky im not beating your ass into the ground for upsetting my girl. now get the fuck out.”
kelce scrambles, rushing out of tanneyhill as the game continues on the tv, topper rightly deciding to remain silent.
“baby, talk to me.” rafe says softly, seeing tears still brimming in your eyes.
“im fine.” your voice is hoarse when the words finally escape your mouth.
“darling.” rafe sighs, tugging your bodies closer together, letting your head bury in his shoulder, not caring if you leave makeup stains on his shirt.
rafe knows the best thing to do is just let you breath, not wanting to work you up more with his words as his hand strokes over your back, hoping it's bringing you some sort of comfort.
“i had no idea he felt that way.” you finally pick your head up. you weren't close to very many girls, so when you and rafe started dating, you tried to quickly assimilate into his friend group and consider his few friends yours as well.
“he's just being a dick. don't worry, alright bunny? you're absolutely my type, and i love how girly you are, mkay?” rafe waits for you to nod and agree with him before he pulls you into a kiss, topper keeping his eyes trained on the tv while you make out.
--
“you ready to go princess?” rafe calls up the stairs, tapping his foot against the wood floor, waiting for you to finish getting ready to attend the gala he promised his dad he would be at.
“coming now!” you say before rushing down the stairs, but still being careful not to trip in your heels.
“you look gorgeous, honey.” rafe admires your outfit. its a new dress, or at least one that he hasn’t seen before. rafe takes your hand in his as you finish your descent, frowning when he realizes the glittery polish that was on your fingers has been scrubbed off, replaced with a creamy white that matches your dress, the only pink thing on your body being your lipstick.
“is that what you are wearing?” rafe questions.
“why, is something wrong with it?” you frown as you look down at your body.
“no-no.” rafe shakes his head. “not at all baby its just… very formal.” he figures the wording is better than blatantly asking why you’re not covered in pink and sparkles.
“well, it’s a formal event.” you roll your eyes, heading towards the door, not wanting to give ward a bad impression, and you know you’re already running late.
“yeah, right.” rafe nods, but his mind whirls in secret, wondering if there could be more to your change in appearance than that.
--
“you're going golfing with top today right?” you ask, rubbing your fingers through rafes hair, massaging his head.
rafe knows you said something, but he's too relaxed to actually make out your words, struggling to blink his eyes open before humming, “what?”
you giggle at his blissed out expression, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “you're going golfing with topper later today right?”
“mhm.” rafe nods, letting out a soft moan when your long acrylics gently scratch over his scalp.
“maybe you can take me. ya know, i could learn how to golf. probably start with just putting.” you shrug.
“baby-” rafe has to take your hands and move them away, knowing he won't be able to focus on the conversation. “why do you want to learn how to golf? you hate sports.”
“that's not true!” you complain. “i like um… gymnastics and figure skating.”
rafe rolls his eyes “you like them for the sparkly outfits and music.”
you pout, moving yourself from straddling rafes lap to next to him on the couch. “aren't i allowed to be interested in the things you're interested in?”
“yes, of course.” rafe sighs, moving to kneel between your knees on the floor, taking your face in his hands, not letting you look away. “and if you really want to come, id love to have you. but if you are asking because you're trying to be less girly, then baby-” rafe leans in to press a kiss to your pouty lips- “i don't want you to change. i love you for who you are.”
“promise you don't mind?” your fingers play with the collar on his shirt, distracting yourself.
“promise.” rafe nods.
“okay, thank god.” you let out a giggle. “golf is so boring.”
--
you have your laptop and phone opened up, intensely scrolling as you switch between them, brow furrowed as you do your research.
“y/n-”
you slam shut the laptop and turn the screen off on your phone as rafe walks into the room.
“what are you doing?” rafe questions.
“nothing.” you smile at rafe. “just some online shopping.” you hope it's believable, but you can tell by rafes hesitation that he doesn't fully trust your explanation.
“okay…” rafe slowly approaches the bed, and you quickly move your laptop and phone to the bedside table as rafe crawls up next to you.
you distract him from asking more questions as you press your lips against his, pushing him to lay back on the bed as you grind down.
“ah, fuck.” rafe moans when you pull away, pulling your shirt off over your head to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath.
rafes hands cup your tits, massaging them in his large palms before suddenly flipping so you're the one laying down against the bed, completely forgetting about your suspicious behavior when he entered the room.
what rafe doesn't know, as he lowers down your body and flicks your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, is that you weren't online shopping, rather scowering through social media, trying to find all of rafes ex girlfriends or anyone he interacted with, all while you compared the girls to yourself.
you wish kelces words didn't still echo in your head, especially after rafes insistence they weren't true.
--
“gonna take a shower.” you tell rafe, setting your bags down in the foyer, knowing you'll get around to them later.
“you sure not a bath? i can run one for you.” rafe offers, following you up the stairs.
“nah, that's fine.” you shrug, frowning slightly when you see your display of lush bath bombs. you're trying to be less high maintenance, more easy going.
“come on, what if i wanna soak with you in the bath?” rafe pouts. “please baby.”
you can't help but giggle at his doe eyes blinking at you. “okay, sure.”
“good.” rafe hums before placing a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss before he heads towards the bath, turning the hot tap on. you watch as he looks at your bath bombs before selecting a light blue bath bomb with star embeds.
rafe sets the bath bomb down on the edge of the large tub before turning to you. “what should we do while we wait for the bath to fill?” you question, tugging your ponytail out to let your hair fall.
“mmm, i know exactly what i want to do.” rafe says.
in only a few moments he has your shorts down, perched on the edge of the bathtub while his head is buried in between your legs, tongue licking greedy stripes over your cunt.
--
“missed you.” you whine, burying your face into rafes chest as he rocks gently, holding you tight to him.
“missed you too, princess.” rafe is relieved to finally have you back in his arms. hes been away for an entire week, and you came to the airport to get him despite rafe insisting that he was fine to get himself home. you just couldn't wait any longer.
you whine when rafe pulls away slightly, making him laugh and tug you back into him.
“clingy baby.” rafe coos, but the words make your cheeks hot as you pull away.
“hey, hey.” rafe grabs your hand, tugging you back against his chest. “i didn't mean it like that.”
“okay.” you whisper with a nod, tears brimming in your eyes. with rafe being gone, you spiraled even further, going as far as to befriend a couple of his exes to compare yourself even more to them. you also attended a party that kelce was at, and while he didn't speak at all to you, you could occasionally feel his eyes on you, disapproval in his gaze.
“love you so much bunny.” rafe says, rubbing his large hands over your shoulders. “let's get home so i can show you how much i missed you, yeah?”
you perk up as you nod, making sure your hand is clasp together with rafes as you head out of the airport and towards the parking lot, your keys hanging from your finger that isn't intertwined with rafes.
“here, baby.” rafe opens the passenger side door for you, but you frown and don't move towards it.
“you just got off a flight, rafe. i can drive.”
“nope.” rafe snatches the keys out of your grasp. “you're my girl, and as long as im here you have no need to drive yourself. now get in, my passenger princess.”
--
“ready for the party?” you ask rafe, adjusting your skirt as rafe walks down the stairs.
“of course.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips before looking down at your outfit.
“baby… is this really what you want to wear?” rafe asks. he likes any clothes you put on, but the black skirt paired with a plain white cropped tee, not even accented by any jewelry just isn't you.
“i just…” you swallow. “i just know kelce is gonna be there. wanna show him that i don't need to be wearing sparkly pink every second.”
rafe can't speak, the anger quickly rising when he realizes that months later you still haven't let go of kelces words, still worrying that you arent the right person for rafe.
“go put on a sparkly dress.” rafe simply says, not able to keep his voice soft, despite addressing you. you hustle upstairs, changing into the outfit you really wanted to wear, adding some jewelry and colourpop super shock shadow to your lid.
you bounce down the stairs, feeling much more yourself now.
“theres my pretty girl.” rafe says, his words sweet but his face still angry as he places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out towards his truck.
he speeds to the party as you sit there silently, playing with your rings, worried about what is going to happen when you get to the party, especially knowing kelce is gonna be there.
“rafey, don’t do anythi-” you tell him as he helps you down after parking, but you can’t even finish your sentence.
rafe eyes kelce standing on the front lawn, a red solo cup in his hand. he hasn’t spotted rafe yet, but you know as soon as he does the smile is going to drop from his face.
rafe begins to stalk towards him while you trail behind, grimacing when rafe throws a punch, landing right on kelces cheek.
“fuck you!” rafe shouts, shoving him back before kelce can even realize what is happening.
“yo, man, stop!” some guy you recognize but don’t know his name yells, but doesn’t try to get in the middle as rafe punches kelce again.
you can’t help the smile on your face, watching your man defend you throughout anything, even if it involves turning one of his close friends into a bloody pulp.
“y/n… it’s gone on long enough, stop him.” topper comes up behind you, making you jump.
you turn to look at him before back at kelce, eyes glazed over as rafe shouts at him again. you rush to rafes side, grabbing at his fist. “okay, okay.” you tell him softly. “he gets it.”
rafe steps away as kelce falls to the ground, his chest heaving as his lip and nose drip blood. “let this be a lesson.” rafe turns to the crowd that has grown. “no one shit talk me or my girlfriend or this is what happens to you.” rafe points at kelce, not giving another word before stalking away, literally grabbing you and picking you up to carry you back towards his truck. you stay quiet as rafe sets you in the passenger seat.
“are your knuckles hurt?” you ask, petting your hand gently over his wrist as rafe shifts the car into gear, rushing away from the party.
“i’ll be fine, baby.” rafe says, glancing at his reddened fingers. “just need to get you home.”
“oh.” you nod, knowing that while rafe got some of his anger out on kelce, he’s certainly going to get the rest of his pent up energy out on you.
it takes minutes from the time you get home for rafe to have your back flat on the bed, his large cock thrusting into you.
you moan out, hands gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving scratches against his tanned skin.
“you’re. my. fucking. girl.” rafe says, accentuating each word by pounding his cock inside of you.
you let out a moan, kelces mean words thoroughly beat out of your head as you nod. “im yours.”
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Light On- single mom/neighbor fic
Simon Riley/female reader
Prompt: 1 of 2 for sickfics / requested by multiple
I’m going to need a raincheck for dinner tonight.
Simon frowns at his phone. You’re bailing? You seemed excited about it when he asked earlier in the week, offering to take you and Emmaline down the street to the little café on the corner for dinner. It had taken him days to work up the courage, needlessly pushed on by Johnny’s ‘encouragement’ relentless text messages filled with date ideas, and bad pick-up lines.
Still, you had said yes. Had asked if meant Emma too, and he took secret pleasure in the way you seemed so relieved when he tilted his head and told you, of course.
Okay. Is everything alright? He fires back immediately, wondering if the crying that he’s been hearing on and off all morning has anything to do with you backing out.
I’m not feeling great, and neither is Emma. I think we’re coming down with something. Coming down with something, like you’re sick? You’re sick? Anxiety twists in the pit of his stomach, worrying curling his fingers into a fist with a clench.
Alright. Let me know if you need anything? He waits for a text back, an answer of some kind, an assurance that you’ll seek him out if you need help or need anything.
It never comes.
Six hours later, Simon is at your door.
He has grit his teeth through the day, paced around his own flat endlessly, tried everything he could think of to distract himself. Every time he heard Emmaline wail, his stomach flipped, worry, fear, breaking down his logical sense, the analytical part of his brain until he was standing in front of your door, waiting for the inevitable click of the handle.
When it comes, and you’re standing on the other side, his heart sinks.
He should have come over soon.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He says it as softly as he can, a newfound pitch of his voice that seems to only be reserved for you, trying to allay the panic that has started to form as ice inside his chest.
“Sorry about the noise.” You croak, and he smothers his wince. You sound awful, voice nearly gone, like your throat has been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Emmaline is clad only in a diaper, and when he looks closer, he can see the stain of what he thinks must be her vomit on your shirt. Over your shoulder, dirty bottles, dishes lay stacked next to the sink, a laundry basket with a mountain of baby clothes piled high sits on the table.
“Can I help-“ You sway, arm tightening around the baby, and he doesn’t think, doesn’t stop himself, he just moves.“Alright,” He murmurs, wrapping an arm around you, supporting both you and Emmaline by shifting you into his side, one hand against Emma’s back. She feels warm, but not nearly as hot as you, and panic tries to bubble up his throat again at the blaring heat that’s coming from your skin. “I’ve got you.”
“Sorry, ‘m a little dizzy.”
“It’s okay.” He keeps you close, turning you back through the door. Emma makes scratchy, unhappy noises, and he rubs his thumb against her skin. “Shhh. I know, I know. You’re okay.” You lean into him harder, and he accommodates it, moving the two of you towards the couch. “I know, you’re not feeling too good are you?” He says to Emma after he gets you down on the couch, hands now around her back, waiting for a sign of permission from you to lift her.
“She can go down. If you-“ Your breath gets caught in your chest, and you curl forward, his hand going to your shoulder, your body shaking with a cough. “If you want to try.” You whisper once you recover, brows knitted together in misery, and he cradles her, rocking her back and forth, mimicking your usual movements.
“You stay right here.” He nods to the couch, using a fraction of the voice he uses on Johnny, and you immediately nod, eyes shuttering closed with a slow blink. “Just rest.”
Emmaline is still crying when he opens the door to her room, the first he’s seen it, pale green walls and dark wood crib, small rocker in the corner next to a changing table. It’s a comforting space, decorated and cared for with love, and for a moment, his mind wanders to an image of you, painting the walls with a swollen belly, or curled in the plush rocker, reading a book to Emmaline, still nestled inside you. He wasn’t there for it, but he just knows you were so beautiful, the kind of glow that would have stopped him in the street. You still stop him in the street.
Emma wails, bringing him back to reality with a softer cry than earlier, and he keeps her close to his chest, murmuring low and soft. “Shhh. You’re alright, baby girl. You’re okay.” He continues the rocking side to side thing you usually do in a standing position, mumbling things to her, stroking his fingers down her cheek, her forehead, bouncing and swaying at the same. “Are you not feeling too good? Is that what’s got you all upset? Yeah. I get kind of grumpy when I don’t feel good either.” He coos, little lashes slowly blinking up at him, transfixed on his face during his stream of chatter until they begin to slip shut, her mouth still hanging half open. He holds his breath, staring in astonishment at her sleeping face, half shocked, half ridiculously pleased.
“Have you taken anything?” He barely sits on your ottoman, leaning over to get a better look at you, uncomfortable with the way your eyes seem glazed over, how slow they are to react. Maybe you need to go to the hospital?
“Some naproxen, a bit ago.” You look exhausted, eyelids heavy, and he can’t stop himself from pressing the back of his hand to your forehead.
“You’re really warm, sweetheart. Do you need a doctor?” Tell me what to do, he wants to beg. Tell me how to help.
“No, jus’ sleep.” A confused look flickers across your face. “Oh my god, did you…” you swallow a cough, his hand sliding down to cup your shoulder, thumb soft against your dirty t shirt. “did you get her down?” He nods, slowly, fighting the small grin that tugs at his lips.
“Wow.” You breathe, and your hand drags up your chest to where his still sits on your arm, fingers intertwining in his with a small squeeze. “You really are our hero.” He smiles at you, because how can he not, heart warm and full in his chest, the feeling something he hasn’t experienced in a long, long time.
There’s a moment, a second extended into a minute, maybe an hour, he’s not sure, where you don’t look away from him. Where you look at him, really look at him, and see him, see his twice broken nose, the scar on his cheek, the one above his eyebrow. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t try to hide or look away, just holds himself still, staring down at you on the couch, sweat dotting your forehead and neck, still beautiful with your fever parched skin and tired eyes.
“Simon.” You whisper, and he thinks, maybe… he’s supposed to kiss you right now. That if he were braver, if Johnny were here to egg him on, if he felt like it wasn’t taking advantage of your weakened state… he might. But instead-
“Why don’t you close your eyes, love. Try to get some rest. I’ll stay. See if I can get some of these dishes done. I can get her if she gets up.”
“You don’t have-“
“I know.” He soothes. “I know I don’t, but I’m here. Let me help.” Let me help you. Let me be here.
You take a deep breath, as deep as you can manage, and then your voice is light, but so sweet, and so, so trusting when you say;
“Okay, Simon.”
#peaches writes#light on#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley
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Hi! I’ve read quite a lot of your works and I’ve got to say, you’re a great writer, like oh my god!
I was wondering if you could write a one shot of Alastor with a female reader wife who’s like Beetlejuice? Appearance wise (but more feminine), personality wise and power wise as well. Maybe he hadn’t seen her full power before due to no one chanting her name, but during extermination day, as a last resort, someone does and she kind of just goes full on “beast mode” to protect her husband? What would Alastor’s reaction be? Would he like it?
If you can’t do it, that’s alright! I hope you have a great day! ^^
( ≧ᗜ≦)₊˚⊹♡ OMG NONNIE!! you do not understand how excited i was to write this for you hence beetjuice being one of my favorite movies hehe and thank you so much i hope you enjoy this one !!
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ghost with the most !
alastor/beetlejuice f!reader
warnings: slight angst, mentions of blood and massacre, some fluff towards the end!!
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷��꒷
“Wait…sooo you’re telling me chuckles over there has a wife?!” Angel Dust asks his voice raising in disbelief towards the chipper blond in front of him who just so happened to spring this unbelievable information on him.
“Oh sure!” Mimzy raved, with a sort of twinkle in her eye that she only got when she started to gossip. “Under all that creepy and murderous exterior there’s a big ol’ sap! Can’t say I blame him ether — his wife’s a real firecracker! Me and her use to get into all kinds of trouble when we were living!”
She sighs reminiscent on her past looking like she was lost in thought before Angel erupts in bewilderment once more, “There’s no fucking way! I can’t believe i’ve never heard about this…”
Then he suddenly glares at Husk who was unamused by the whole thing. “What?” He huffs with an eyebrow raised, using a towel to wipe off the innards of a dirty glass.
“You knew about this didn’t you…” He eyes him with the worst stink eye making Husk snort, “Listen…I did but that women is bad news and if anyone bothers to say her name three times it’s over…” The cat then places the glass delicately amongst the others before Mimzy gestures for a drink earning a scowl out of him, grabbing the glass once more. “Besides why wouldn’t i know…”
Angel Dust rolls his eyes, resting his cheeks in a pair of his hands taking all this new information in, then sitting up straight again. “Wait? why three times..”
Mimzy giggles delightfully like a toddler clapping her hands seeing Husk place a full glass in front of her. “It’s like her way of a contract honey, to make sure you truly need her when she’s summoned and she’s not all that bad Huskie she’s just a little eccentric and bizarre is all, but truly a fun gal!”
Husk lets out an annoyed huff turning his back to her as she downs her drink in one big gulp with a small hiccup following. “Besides no one’s seen her in years, bless her damned soul…” Mimzy goes back to being reminiscent once more, but this time with a frown forming on her face which was unusual for her.
“Anyways tits, are ya joining us tomorrow? Gonna be a riot.”Angel Dust attempts at changing the subject though he still wanted to know more, seeming that his question somewhat spooked her she started readying herself to leave.
“No, no, no sweetheart! As much as I loooove a good brawl, this one is just not my cup of tea, kick ass though, choa!” And like that the tiny little blonde broad was gone out the door.
Leaving Angel to stew on all this information he just consumed, his eyes then wandering on the grouch in front of him with a smirk playing on his face.
“Wanna fuck before we die?”
“No.”
“Worth a shot.”
⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🪲
On Extermination Day it wasn’t looking so hot for the Hazbin crew.
Each and everyone getting hit down one by one like a domino effect without really too much that they could do about it with their fire power seeming to not be enough like they thought.
Angel Dust looks along the battle field, spotting most of his friends injured or worse and none other than Alastor actually getting his ass kicked. Causing the spider insane amounts of uneasiness, when suddenly an idea clicks.
“Y/n…..,” Angel Dust hesitates thinking back to what Husk said about you and how this could possibly turn out. “Ah fuck it….Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!” He gives in shouting it as loud as he possibly could and within an instant the sky above the hotel swirled in green, causing many sinners and angels to look into the direction of it completely in awe of what it could be.
Alastor holding his chest as the gash across it starts to burn profusely, he notices everyone had stopped for some odd reason making him look in the direction of what had caught everyone’s attention, and if that man’s smile wasn’t permanently on his face already you would’ve saw the biggest grin known to man.
Suddenly a loud noise of a playful accordion rips through the air in a circus theme. ( https://youtu.be/gwsR5gOKK1U?feature=shared sounds something like this if your curious.) “Attention Kmart shoppers!” Your sweet yet sinister voice echoes throughout everyone’s ears with a menacing giggle following. “CLEAN UP ON ISLE SEVEN!! ,” Everyone looks around confused without noticing your form appearing in the middle of a bunch of the Exterminators, Angel Dust finally getting a good look at you causing his jaw to drop. Green hair flowed down your shoulders, a white and black striped dress hugged your body as two large mallets adorned both hands with a mischievous grin that could put Alastor’s to shame, then spinning both mallets around before giving quick blows to each and every dumbfounded exterminator that you saw, leaving an absolute massacre in your wake. Chest heaving with golden blood on your face, when you suddenly notice them, quickly wiping the blood with your striped sleeve and made your way over.
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(dress ref!!)
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Your green cloud forms behind a unsuspecting Adam with a pointed black nail coming out to tap his shoulder. He looks around aimlessly before facing Alastor once more, and then suddenly a large golf club appears with you on the other end of it with a golfers cap on your head. “FOUR!” Is shouted from your lips as you suddenly swing it with much force sending the douche bag flying lord knows where.
You hold your hand over your eyes pretending you saw where he was going, but then quickly snapped out of it to tend to your lover. “Always know how to make an entrance my dear,” Alastor says rather proud of his wife for being able to keep her cool all while kicking ass. “Oh you know I can’t help myself when there’s a crowd!” You dust yourself off before you do your best to help him up seeing his gash slowly dissipating into nothingness leaving just the rip in his nice dress shirt making you frown. “Awww Al, he ruined my favorite shirt!” You then loose track of what you were upset about and start playing with the hole delicately skimming your fingers across his skin, making him shiver as you made it seem like a mouth making ‘nom, nom,nom’ noises until Alastor cleared his throat.
“Sorry babe..” He chuckles down at you while then patting your head, before you wrap your arm around him taking him back to his friends.
“That’s quite alright…now how about we do some catching up, i want to hear all about your adventures,” He says looking down at you feeling how much he really missed this, missed you, clinging to you close like he never wanted to let you go again while you two walked.
Your eyes light up, bouncing up and down giddily next to him before jabbering on the rest of the way about things like almost getting eaten by a sand worm and practically ruining a recently deceased married couples start on the after life.
And of course Alastor was happy to hear all of it from his precious wife who he adorned and loved very much…
#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings#☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s#☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin imagine#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor
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i was thinking about roommate!spencer going home after a week off working on a case and finding reader sleeping on the couch waiting for him to get home
Spencer cringes as his nails scratch the paint around the doorknob. He’s a tepid mixture of tired and sad, demotivated from another bad case, the subway home, the too many steps to the apartment. He hopes the BAU has better pay after his probation is over. He’d get a new apartment, fix up his shitty old car, maybe even get a haircut.
For now, it’s just him, his tired feet, the threadbare couch, and you.
You’re snoring with your face crushed to the armrest, hand tucked under your chest. You’ve started sitting and ended twisted to one side. Your back will ache when you wake up, but you’re blissfully unaware of it while you sleep. Spencer has half a mind to let you sleep undisturbed.
He steps over your book of crosswords on the floor and the pencil waiting beside it, bending over to pat your arm. When that doesn’t rouse you, he grabs your shoulder, about to shake you awake when you sigh in your sleep, a simple, sugary sound that sends heat to his cheeks instantaneously. You’re often innocuously lovely, at least in his eyes.
Spencer frowns and goes to make you a glass of sweet tea to wake up to. He’s secretly hoping you’ll wake up before he returns, but you’re still snoring, your face crushed, pressure on your neck.
He wonders if you sleep on the couch often. He’s never caught you sleeping in the living room when he’s home, but this is the third time now he’s texted you that he’s coming back and walked in to find you waiting…
Are you waiting for him?
Spencer can profile you. It doesn’t feel right, he tries not to be invasive, but he can work this out. It’s his job.
First, the text you sent that read, Can’t wait for you to come home, I’m making chicken noodle soup for us
Neither indicative nor exclusionary of his theory. You could mean can’t wait as the metaphor it tends to be.
Your crossword book. Upon further inspection, he realises the pages are bent on one side, and the tent of it has landed where your hand curls toward your chest. Alright, it fell. You stayed up until you were so tired you dropped your book.
But… you could’ve been watching TV. He turns to analyse the TV set. The standby light turns orange when it’s been left on for eight hours at a time, and you and Spencer are kind of broke, so you don’t leave anything running on purpose. You’ve never fallen asleep watching TV while he was home—
All these reasons.
He could just ask. He turns back to you with lips already parted, prepared to try again to wake you and slip it in casually, Shit, you weren’t waiting for me, were you?
You’re already awake.
Tired, you smile at him like you’re not surprised he’s kneeling at the foot of your seat. Like you’re glad he’s home. “Spencer,” you say, voice etched with the last dregs of sleep as you turn onto your side completely, giving a little wince at the stretch.
“Hey, you okay? Why are you sleeping on the couch again?”
You roll your eyes for what he’s not sure and reach down blindly for the crossword book by his knee, your fingertips brushing his thigh and leaving lightness in their wake. “I'm glad you’re home. Need your help, m’stuck on my puzzle.”
“That’s what you’re sleeping here for?”
“What?” Your eyes slip closed and then flutter open. “Mm, no, was just waiting for you to get home. How was Santa Monica?”
Spencer has to force himself to answer around the pretzel of nerves tied in his throat, because it’s what he’d wanted, but he wasn’t ready. “It was great! I mean– I mean, it was awful, and three people died and–” He breathes in wrong. “It was fine.”
You curl your book on the right page, blinking heavily at an unsolved row. “Oh, good. Um. Okay, ‘to carry a torch for someone’. Eight letters, not obsessed. Doesn’t fit.”
Spencer traces the soft shudder of your lashes where they’re desperate to kiss the skin below your eye. “Besotted,” he says quietly.
You gasp happily. “Besotted. Perfect! I missed you, genius, you always know the answer.”
He hands you your fallen pencil. “I missed you, too.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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hazbin characters wrapping their wings around you headcanons
based on this lil idea
lucifer
he would literally keep you wrapped in his wings all night — all day if he could
this is definitely one of his favorite ways to show intimacy like he loves having you close to him; touching him, relying on him, holding him. it makes him feel so close to you, how could he not love it?
the minute this man sees you even shiver he’s wrapping his wings around you “are you cold?” doesn’t matter what you say, you’re already wrapped in his wings
whenever you fall asleep next to him, he just drapes his wings over you as a warm, feathery blanket, watching you relax with a smile
if you were to curl into his wings or hug them closer, he’s already planning your future (then he’s also trying not to make a sound that would wake you up cus i just know his wings are sensitive)
now if you used a blanket instead of his wings, he’d definitely start to wonder if he did something, but if you seemed uncomfortable, shifting and turning, he’d cautiously drape his wings over you and make him melt with how quickly you settled
if you said something like “i didn’t want to inconvenience you by asking” he’d just put his wings around you anyway and tell you to go back to sleep with a reminder you could never inconvenience him
if you do ask him, he’s trying his hardest not to swoon like… “i’m a little chilly, is it okay if—“ and he’s already (literally) got you covered
if you’re in public and someone looks at you the wrong way, best believe he’s using his wings to pull you to his side and drape over you without even acknowledging that other demon
this is literally second nature for him he loves things like this (anything for his love)
vaggie
so if this was vaggie in heaven, she’d probably be reluctant to do it
like she’s a soldier! she can’t just let someone curl up in her wings!
but she does…
see, if you’re alone, sitting together on the couch or something, her wings are wrapped around you and they are not moving
she will literally fall asleep like that
if we’re talking hell vaggie, she’s always ready to wrap her wings around you and protect you
someone she doesn’t trust is in front of you? she’s pushing you behind her and wrapping her wings around you
you need comfort? her wings are wrapped around you while her hands are holding yours
i think vaggie also uses her wings to give you both some privacy
if you lean in for a kiss, she’s shielding you with her wings so she can kiss you how she wants
she’s a lover girl i just know she is
and she loves when you touch her wings (yes theyre probably sensitive too but she can control herself unlike some people) so if you’re sleeping together, her wings around you, and you wake up first you never push her wings off of you
sometimes you’ll just sit and run your fingers over them, feeling them stretch around you until she woke up and used her wings to pull you closer with a smile
yes she can make her wings appear and disappear, but whenever you’re around they’re out since she knows you like them
and if you ask her to wrap them around you, she’ll first make sure you’re alright but then, of course, give you what you asked for
for heaven vaggie i think itd grow on her but for hell vaggie she’d already love it and it’d just make her feel so much closer to you
husk
okay husk is definitely the kind of guy to use is wings to stop you from walking into traffic or some shit (or even walking toward alastor)
he’s more of a “put his wing in front of you if someone looks at you wrong” kinda guy
overlord husk would definitely have you under his wing for protection from anyone trying to gamble with him
if anyone tried to bargain with him for you/your attention, he’s got his wing out in front of you (and he’s taking their soul)
if theres a brawl going on, he’ll shield you with his wings while he deals with it cus theres no way he’s letting anything happen to you (and since he knows he’ll win, there’s no way he’s letting any blood get on you either)
now when he’s asleep is when he’s not in control of what his wings do (or he his just subconsciously)
his wings would be draped over you — and if you just so happened to fall asleep first with a blanket, that blanket would somehow magically disappear and you’d wake up in the morning with his wings as a much softer alternative
if you got up in the middle of the night you best believe he’s waking up and waiting for you to get back before falling right back asleep when you do with his arm and wing over you
now if you asked him to drape his wings over you, he’s 100% doing it without question. anything you want, no complaints
husk may be a private guy but he’s very caring
adam
now this man is 1000% percent used to wrapping you up in his wings
you’ll somehow end up having office sex and he’ll have to wrap his wings around you when someone walks in, masking it as polishing his feathers
he’d start doing this when you were alone, finding it so much more intimate (but also secretive and more arousing)
whenever he wants a kiss, he’s wrapping his wings around you so you can’t get away (not that you’d want to)
if he’s teasing you, he’s got his wings wrapped around you, mocking you for liking it so much and then using the privacy of his wings to dote on you, whispering sweet nothings and peppering kisses on your face (before he goes right back to being an ass)
if you even try to use a blanket over his wings, he’s the most pissy, butthurt man in all of heaven “want me to fluff them up for you or some shit? what’s this about?” and it’d slowly morph into “are you mad at me?” then “so… you want to break up” and you’d have to talk him down until you were safely wrapped in his wings
if you fell asleep before he got home, under a blanket, he’d literally just get rid of the blanket and wait for you to curl into him, sleepily grabbing for a blanket and giving him the perfect opportunity to stretch out his wings and watch you burry yourself beneath them
now if you grab his wings at all, he’s waking you up because he can’t handle that “what’d i tell you about touching my wings, babe?” (but you’d grab them again anyway)
if you ask him to put his wings around you in public, he’ll deny it because he’s so off guard that his sensitive wings could not handle wrapping around you without taking you home (of course as soon as you got home he’d apologize and give you what you wanted)
now you just ask out of the blue to see his wings involuntarily fluff and stretch and watch him choke on his words
if you asked when you were alone he’d be happy to oblige
sometimes you’d walk down the promenade and he’d just put his wing over you to make sure everyone knew who you were
after a gig, same thing, no one is getting near you
adam is a little bit inept when it comes to romance, but this definitely makes up for it
lute
under no circumstances is she wrapping her wings around you absolutely not
okay maybe
okay definitely
you’re sleeping? obviously, you needed a blanket (you definitely didn’t purposely not get one) and her wings were perfect for that
watching a movie? well, she doesn’t want to sit on her wings so obviously she just needs to stretch them out. it’s not her fault you’re sitting next to her
you’re reading? you like to be cozy and she couldn’t find a blanket to give you so her wings are the next best thing (or best thing really)
don’t even think about asking for it though, she will stop…. for like three days then go right back to doing it cus she misses you
and she does not like the fact that you’re under some blanket because she just knows it’s not warm
yes. she would be jealous of a blanket.
she hides the blankets but so do you so its okay
now theres no chance in hell she’s putting her wings anywhere near you in public
….good thing you’re in heaven!
if someone is a little too friendly, she’s stretching her wings out then using one to pull you close before walking away with a sour look on her face and dragging you with her
she also uses her wings to stop you from doing things, but if you move them out of the way she’s gotta stop herself from doing something
don’t touch her wings… seriously don’t. she wont know what to do with herself and you’ll have a serious problem on your hands (maybe a clingy problem depending on the day)
now say both of you are exorcists, she’s definitely using her wings to protect you. there’s a sinner trying to fight back? she’s darting to you, wrapping her wings around you, and getting rid of that sinner faster than you can blink
and in that last battle??? she’s not letting you anywhere near that shield, keeping you behind her with her wings shielding you. once its gone, she’s slaughtering anyone that gets near you and using her wings to move you out of the way, keep you close, or take blows for you (i just know once lute cares about someone she’s protecting them with her life cus she refuses to lose anyone)
once you get home she’s got you wrapped up in her wings and holding you close
if you’re not an exorcist, she’s doing this after every extermination — there’s no way she’s letting you go and she’ll fall asleep like that before you even get the chance to talk about it, or worse get up and leave her (and she is not talking about it the next day so don’t bother trying, she’ll just ignore you and hand you a blanket… before getting jealous later)
and if you hold her back, you can feel her wings flutter while she sleeps, folding in and pulling you impossibly closer
(i love this mean little angel u guys)
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin lute#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel heaven#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer morningstar imagine#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar hazbin hotel#hazbin vaggie#hazbin hotel vaggie#vaggie x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#lute headcanons#lute hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lute#lute x reader#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#adam x reader#hazbin hotel adam x reader#husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk
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