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#sweet embarrassing family moment
blackhakumen · 1 year
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Mini Fanfic #1085: Luigi Duet Ballet (Super Smash Bros Ultimate x Darkstalkers)
11:55 a.m. at the Local Smash Beach's Boardwalk......
Tifa: (Stretches her Arms Up in the Air as She Let's Out a Loud Yawn While Walking Next to Cloud) ('YAAAAWN')
Cloud: Work last night got you worn out already?
Tifa: ('Sigh') As per usual....I swear, some these people had nothing better to do than to get wasted, yell, and putting another migraine on me and the boys heads....
Cloud: You want me to serve as your bar's bodyguard for a few nights? (Smirks a Little) It'll be free.
Tifa: (Rest her Head onto Cloud's Shoulder) No....I don't want you to get involved in their stupidity. Besides, we already have Barret for the job. (Starts Pouting a Little) Even if he does take it too literal sometimes.....
Cloud: He broken another window?
Tifa: 64th window to be excated. Like, I'm all for kicking out rude drunks as much as the next guy, but would it KILL him to kick them out of the door instead? Those windows cost a fortune to replace!
Cloud: (Chuckles Lightly) I bet. But try to go easy on the big guy. He means well...for the most part.
Tifa: ('Sigh') I know.....And I'm really happy we get to work together again after all these years. I just don't wanna keep buying new windows all the time, you know?
Cloud: Hey, I get it. But you can worry about all of that some other time. This is your day off and you're at the beach of all places. You should take this opportunity to relax and unwind a little.
'Piano Starts Playing.....'
Cloud: ....And enjoy the sound of the piano apparently.
Tifa: Hm. It sounds lovely actually. (Starts Looking For the Source of The Continuous Sound) where it is coming from exactly?
The couple notice a small crowd of people gathered around in the close distance as they made their way in. Once Cloud abd Tifa manage to get in front of the crowd to get a better look, they discovered a black piano, standing in the middle of the circled crowd, is being played by a very familiar flower princess, who is wearing a black, dressed tail coat and leotard.
Daisy: This one.....is for our one and only green bean.....Luigi.
Cloud: Wait, I thought she said couldn't-
Tifa shushes her boyfriend before he could even finish his sentence.
Daisy: Luigi~ You're so cool~ And with our star, we're gonna rule~
Lilith: (Gently Floats Down on the Piano as She Begins to Sing as Well) Ohh Luigi, please understand~ We're gonna love you 'til the very end!~
Daisy: Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie Weegie~
Lilith: Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie~
Daisy/Lilith: We LOOOOHOOOVE YOOOOHOOU!~
Daisy/Lilith: Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie. Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, Weegie, WE LOOOOHOOVE YOOOHOOOOOU!~
Daisy: Bowser, King Boo, and Dharkon too.....(Continues Singing with Lilith)
Cloud: (Almost at a Loss For Words) .....What the hell are we looking at right now?
Tifa: Pretty sure it's a duet of some kind.
?????: A duet all about me?
The couple turns to see Luigi and Bowser standing next to them with the green plumber in particular, already has his hands on both of his cheeks while blushing and swaying his hips side to side.
Luigi: Those two shouldn't have~ That's so sweet of them~
Tifa: (Giggles Softly at How Cute Luigi is Acting Right Now) Awww~ You're enjoying the show already, Weeg?~
Luigi: I think so? I mean, I've always liked hearing to Daisy sing sometimes, but I have no idea she would sound THIS amazing!~ And Lili too. They both have voices of angels~
Cloud: I wouldn't go that far really. (Smiles a Bit) But I gotta hand it to them. They don't sound all that bad.
Bowser: (Scoffs While Crossing his Arms Together) Oh please. It's perfectly fine and adorable for those two to they sing a sing about Greenie over here, but every time I do the same for Peach, she and everyone else says it's..... (Moves his Two Fingers Up and Down) "Creppy and Unprofessional of me as the King of all Koopas".
The trio slowly turns their heads to Bowser with deadpinned looks on each of their faces.
Bowser: What? I'm right, aren't I?
Tifa: Bowser, you kidnapped Peach more times than any of us could count. Of course she would find you singing a song about her creepy!
Luigi: ('Sigh') Why couldn't you stop kidnapping her and find someone to date normally like Ludwig did?
Bowser: (Glares at Luigi) Cause I'm evil, Greeni- Wait, Ludwig has a date? (Eyes Begins to Sparkle) My baby boy got himself girl and/or boyfriend?~
Luigi: Yeah. G-Girlfriend actually. Her name is Kumatora, the Princess of Osohe I think?
Cloud: And unlike you, he actually treats her with actual respect and dignity.
Tifa: (Notices Something in the Distance) Awwwww~ And they're already on a date right now~
Bowser: WHERE!?
Tifa points Bowser to Ludwig and Kumatora laughing with one another and holding hands in the distance..
Bowser: (Gasps Before His Eyes Widened in Genuine Shock) My god......You bozos were telling the truth.....
Cloud: (Rolls his Eyes) Nice of you to believe us now, moron........
Bowser: (Tears Starts to Form in his Eyes) My babies.....('Sniff') Why do they have to grow so fast? ('Sniff')
Bowser then takes a deep breath before screaming out......
Bowser: LUDDDDDWIIIIIIGGGG!
Meanwhile at the Mid Distance of the Boardwalk.....
Kumatora: (Turns to See the Source of the Screaming Before Turning Back.to her Boyfriend) Hey, not to alarm you or anything, but it kinda looks like your old man is calling out for ya.
Ludwig: ('Sigh') It's best that we don't pay him any attention. Maybe then he won't notice us being here after a while-
Bowser: (In the Distance) LUDWIG, I KNOW YOU OVER THERE! STOP IGNORING YOUR OWN FATHER!!
Kumatora: (Gives Ludwig a Teasing Smirk on her Face) You were saying?~.
Ludwig: ('Sighs in Defeat') Guess we're facing the music then......(Finally Gives Bowser his Attention) Yes, father!? Is there something the matter!?
Bowser: ARE YOU REALLY DATING THAT PINK HAIRED PRINCESS RIGHT NOW!?
Ludwig: (Stares at his Father a Deadpinned Look in his Eyes Before Sighing Again) Yes, father! We are dating! Her name is Kumatora by the way!
Kumatora: (Happily Waves at Bowser) Pleased to finally meet you. sir!
Bowser: LIKEWISE! LUDWIG, HAVE YOU COMBED YOUR HAIR BEFORE LEAVING THE MANSION!?
Ludwig: Yes, father! I combed it the moment I woke up!
Bowser: DID YOU POLISH THE SPIKES ON YOUR SHELL!? OR THE WHOLE FOR THAT MATTER!?
Ludwig: I....don't see a reason why I should-
Bowser: DO YOU HAVE ANY MONEY ON YOU RIGHT NOW!? I DO NOT WANT MY BABY BOY TO GO ON HIS DATE EMPTY HANDED!
Kumatora: (Trying Her Hardest Not to Burst Out Laughing)
Ludwig: Mother had already given me my allowance last night! Do not worry!
Bowser: Okay, Well.....DID YOU BRUSH YOUR TEETH BEFORE COMING HERE!?
Ludwig: ('Sigh') Yes, father, I've brushed my teeth AND got myself ready for our date! And BEFORE you asked, I've already gotten a pack of gum in my pocket just in case!
Bowser: ARE YOU SURE!?
Ludwig: Yes.
Bowser: POSITIVE!?
Ludwig: Yes!
Bowser: ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY-
Ludwig: I AM SURE!-(Quickly Takes a Deep Breath to Calm Himself Down) Listen, could you PLEASE let us continue our date together in peace right now!? I can assure you that we will be fine!
Kumatora: (Wraps her Arm Around Ludwig's Shoulders) Your Baby Boi is in good hands, sir!~
Ludwig: (Softly Glares at his Girlfriend While Blushing) K-Kuma!
Kumatora: (Turns Back to Ludwig) Gotta convince your father you'll be safe somehow. (Smiles Softly) Besides, you know I'll have your back, right? (Gives Ludwig a Kiss on the Cheek)
Ludwig: (Blush Starts Getting a Little More Redder) L-Likewise.
Bowser: ('SNIFF') OKAY, I'LL LEAVE YOU TWO TO IT THEN! (Tearfully Waves Goodbye to his Son) I LOVE YOU!!!
Ludwig: ('Sigh') Love you too, father......(Turns to Kuma) Shall we get going then?
Kumatora: Ye. (Starts Walking Off With her Boyfriend Next to Her) Your old man's pretty cool for an evil guy.
Ludwig: Glad you're taking a liking to him at least.....
Bowser: (Crying his Eyes Out as He Hugging an Annoyed Cloud Strife) Why does my eight little hellspawns have to grow so fast, huh!? It's not faiiiiiir!~
Cloud: Better question. Would you mind telling me why you're hugging me right now first?
Bowser: Well. ('Sniff') I mean....I didn't bring any tissues here with me, so-
Cloud: (Glares at the King Koopa) If you blow your nose anywhere near my body, I WILL kill you.
Bowser: Okay, okay! I won't blow my nose on you! ('Sniff') Promise!
Tifa: (Gently Pats Bowser's Hand) It's gonna be okay, Bowser. This kind of stuff happens all the time. (Tears Starts Falling Down on her Face) No matter how much it hurts!~ (Starts Hugging Cloud as Well)
Cloud: This is getting us nowhere.....(Turns to the Green Plumber Beside Him) Luigi, could help me convince these two to stop crying already?
Luigi turns to Cloud with a teary look in his eyes much to Cloud dismay.
Cloud: Oh no.
Daisy/Lilith: WE LOOOOOOVE YOU, SWEETIE!~
Luigi: ('Sniff') (Joins in on the Cloud Hugfest) They love meeeeeee!~
Cloud: ('Sighs in Defeat') So much for relaxation.
@cyber-wildcat
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ruporas · 2 years
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more sugiO
#sugio#osugi#sugimoto saichi#ogata hyakunosuke#golden kamuy#UWAHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#ok#i posted on my other socials so now ill ramble in the tags bc its a little less embarrassing to post on tumblr than it is anywhere else#but these are just the results of waiting a week#thinking endlessly about sugio and then doodling my ass off the moment the weekend came#i cant really verbalize how i think of them. in a modern au sense they're ofc much better off and ill talk about that in the future maybe!!#but canon compliant wise................ :melting-emoji:#i am a multishipper so in another universe sugimoto is much more happier with perhaps. someone superior. someone better than ogata but#unfortunately i rotate sugio in my brain the most often and while i picture sugimoto be both regretful and disdainful of his feelings#i do think he accepted his feelings early on once he recognized it#and well. sugimoto is nice. hes really nice. hes sweet and silly and has a knack for romance even if he never really pursued it himself#but he has a track record for ppl that he has loved. and i think those people shape him into his kindness.#toraji... umeko.... and now the person he's closest to is asirpa who is just. eugh. ill cry if i get into their familial/platonic bond.#But u see what i mean. ogata is like a trapezoid box trying to fit in with circles. and that wouldv jarred sugimoto soooo much and consideri#ng the kind of personality that ogata elicits from sugimoto during their interactions . he's Just immediately like Why. Whyyyyyy HIMMMMMMM#but i think he gets around it. a real internal struggle.#meanwhile ogata -- the absolute legend of denial and repression - denies it vehemently. does not See it. and thinks there must be something#wrong with sugimoto -- which is smth he takes comfort in#but he'd never return those feelings -- only the passive affection that could come along with it bc physical affection =/= internal emotions#and i don't find ogata to recognize it -- only catch glimpses of it through odd feelings of warmth -- dreams -- instinctively following#or looking at sugimoto pre-abashiri. its small things and well. it'll whiplash him in the end.#bc love has been so absent in ogata's life. if familial/platonic love can't reach him#then romantic love could never either. and that makes me shake his shoulders and weep.#ive written too Much in these tags. AND THis is Not worded in the best way ANYWAY. but At the least i got to verbally wordvomit it out. it s#been just stewing in my brain bc i have no idea where else to put it down.
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I can't be so afraid of being hated that I stop being myself, because if I do that I'll never actually be loved.
In other words, i liked the first Trolls movie and I'm going to fucking talk about it maybe if I feel like it
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lilnasxvevo · 3 months
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When Tashigi comes back out after crying and sleeping after not having been strong enough to stop Crocodile all by herself and Smoker is just chilling to the max on the deck and he hears her and says “Hello, young lady. Are your legs feeling any better?” and she’s like “Do not. Just. Just don’t” I was like AAAHHH I get it now. He’s her work dad
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miharuki · 14 days
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𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕱𝖊𝖒)
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You were inside an otome game, an old classic that you found while searching for games of the same genre.
Imagine your surprise when you realized you were inside the otome game "My Pure Elegant Love," a medieval-style otome game with nobles, kings, and knights. You had just woken up, finding yourself as the daughter of a duke, any duke. Perhaps for a brief moment, you thought you could have reincarnated as Amelie, the protagonist of this game, but you were far from it.
You quickly befriended Amélie; her sweetness and gentleness were at least forced, but you knew that was the vibe of the game. Perhaps being the daughter of a duke, you could meet other characters, like Claude, the noble and best friend of Amélie in the plot and one of the favorite characters of the small group that played this forgotten game, damn it.
There was also Nathan, one of the strongest and most talented knights in the plot. We can't forget about Kalisto, the protagonist's younger brother who had a crush on her, Luka, one of the princes and also a romantic partner in the plot, as well as the wizard Azrael, and the first Duke Eros, all romantic interests of the protagonist.
Being the daughter of a simple duke, you knew you wouldn't have a chance with those of high status like Luka, the first prince. You weren't the protagonist, but you couldn't help but envy her. Perhaps because she was receiving love from handsome boys? Or perhaps because even in this life, in this game, you weren't loved by your family. You thought that being the daughter of a duke would give you some privileges, but oh, how wrong you were. Neglected by your parents, hated by the romantic interests of the protagonist, and simply having a bad reputation.
You thought you were becoming friends with Claude and that you might even win his love, but that was thrown out the window when they all decided to embarrass you at the prince's luxurious party. You didn't know that wearing a dress that Luka himself gave you would make you the target of everyone's ridicule.
"How could you do this, [name]?" How could you? You didn't do anything wrong! There, in front of the stairs with the prince behind her, was the protagonist, wearing the same dress as yours, but prettier. Perhaps because her perfect protagonist's body and beauty were helping her.
All the protagonist's romantic interests, including the ones you liked on the other side of the screen, were looking at you with anger, perhaps even smiling as if it were planned by them, by all of them, including his highness, who at first seemed not to like you, treating you even like a servant. You envy how they were all around that bitch, comforting her, as if you were the villain, which you never were.
Everyone talked, laughed, and even mocked. "I can't believe Miss Amélie has a friend like that!" You heard a lady saying, looking down. Not even your parents cared about you, at this point, you're probably being disowned by the family.
With tears on your face, after trying to explain the misunderstanding to everyone, after being slapped by his highness and the protagonist, you felt like crap. Pulling on the dress, you turned and ran out of the hall, opening the doors brutally. You couldn't stay in that room anymore, not when everyone was now looking at you with hatred.
Unaware, you came across a balcony, hearing footsteps coming. You were scared; the prince might have sent guards after you after you "lied" to everyone while explaining.
With all your strength, you push through the balcony fence, and as you're about to jump, someone forcefully opens the doors, startling you and causing you to slip, now falling to the ground. Your tears are now stronger, groaning in pain as you try to get up.
It was with pain, dirt, and tears that you ended up behind a bush. You couldn't take it anymore; you were shaking from the cold, crying, your makeup smudged, your hair dirty and messy, your "copied" dress dirty and torn. You've never felt so worthless before.
You cried as if you were carrying all the burdens, thinking about how the romantic pairs and the protagonist were not the best; in fact, they were the worst.
Feeling a headache, you sit down, trying to breathe well and calm down as you think, "And now?"
"What's a maiden doing crying in the middle of the woods?" Looking back, you noticed someone coming, a boy. Turning your head forward, you try to wipe away the tears. You don't like anyone seeing you cry; crying is for weak people.
Then you felt something being thrown over you, a thick, large coat. Lifting your head, you now look at the boy in front of you. His melodic and calm voice speaks as he gently crouches in front of you.
"Can you tell me, fair lady?"
You sobbed, trying not to cry, mocking the nickname the boy gave you.
"Fair lady? The way I am right now, I'm barely even a girl, let alone fair or a lady," you say as you use your own dress to clean up the mess of makeup and tears.
"I don't think that," the boy continues to clean as he speaks. "To be honest, I think you're even more beautiful. You just can't see it."
The boy's hands lift your stained and dirty face. You look and notice the looks he's giving, but they're not directed at the protagonist like everyone else's; they're for you.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" His calm and concerned eyes are looking at you, waiting for your response.
You just look aside before sighing. It's better than nothing.
"His Highness, the prince, had given me a dress as a gift... to wear at the ball today, but my friend - no, Miss Amélie was wearing the same one. Some of her friends started mocking me for trying to 'copy' the girl, but when I tried to explain, His Highness said he would never give me a gift in his life, especially knowing that his 'friend' Amélie would be wearing it today," you almost can't finish without starting to cry again, sobbing as you try to explain.
"They all planned to humiliate me in front of everyone, and His Highness still insists that I'm lying!" You say, already crying again, not noticing the arms going around you. You only notice when you feel being embraced by the boy as you cling to him, crying and sobbing.
"My dear, they don't deserve your kindness or your presence. What they did was extremely awful to a lady like you," the boy says as he strokes your hair and back, comforting you, as you've always wished to be.
You were clinging to the boy, feeling betrayed, feeling used. You didn't even notice the boy raising his hand to someone behind you, to someone dressed in black, a gentleman, but not the prince's gentleman, oh no, not that traitor.
You didn't even realize how the castle was beginning to stir.
"Let's go, I'll take you somewhere else. You might end up getting sick staying here," he says as he watches you cling to him. He could feel your warmth, you were starting to get sick from crying so much. Nomura's heart was breaking at the thought of you falling ill.
"Are you okay with this, miss?" The boy asks before you nod in agreement. Nomura gets ready and picks you up bridal-style, using his own coat that was on top of you as a blanket to protect you as he carried you to his own carriage.
Watching as you had already fainted from crying, he held you gently as the carriage headed towards his castle, leaving behind an important part of the game that was happening, unaware that the game's villain was now holding you firmly.
Do I do a part 2?
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callmemickey · 9 months
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Cumming Home for Christmas
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synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?
content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2
word count: 3.7k
notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.
Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.
Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.
It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.
Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.
But I digress.
Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.
Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.
You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.
That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.
Good girl.
You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.
The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.
Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.
You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.
“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.
He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.
It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.
Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.
You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.
“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.
“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.
He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.
His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.
Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.
But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.
“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.
With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.
A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.
“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”
You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.
A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.
Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.
Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.
Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.
That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.
Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.
“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump. 
Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.
“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.
You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”
“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”
You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.
“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.
“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.
“My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.
He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.
“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.
Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.
He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.
The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.
Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.
You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.
He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.
He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.
He didn’t deserve you.
Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.
You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”
He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.
You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.
“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”
Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.
You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.
You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.
You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.
Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.
Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.
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trappolia · 7 days
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SUNDAY IS FOR REST ── sunday x halovian!reader, 918
"do be careful, my dove," he murmurs as you straighten out the light feathers behind his ear.
"you haven't preened yourself in a while, have you?" your voice is soft, a hint of chiding to it that makes his heart flutter — there's a groggy rasp to your tone as well, having just stirred from your own dreams. sunday dares not look back at you, for there is a sweet domesticity to be found in the impression of rumpled bedsheets against your cheek and the heavy-lidded eyelids that make it known that you would love nothing more than to go back to sleep — proper sleep.
a hum resonates in sunday's chest as he allows himself to be fully immersed in the moment; early morning, messy hair and feathers, the sleepy press of lip against lip. his head tilts to the side, allowing greater access for you to tidy the feathers in question.
"you are correct. there's no need for me to do such preening in the dreamscape, though i prefer it when you offer your generous help," he replies, a mix of contentment and fondness pervading his voice.
"i'll help you only if you stay still," you grumble. your hands, which were straightening out his feathers, are now hovering just above them as sunday tries very hard not to shift in place again.
he cannot help it, truly. it is not just the factor that sunday is unused to, well, anyone touching something as intimate as his halovian wings, but also the fact that the slightest brush of your skin against his is a sensation like no other.
not that he would ever tell you, of course.
sunday nods, a silent affirmation that he will try his best to remain still, although a trace of a smile dances upon his lips. as you resume tending to his wings, each brush of your fingers brings a newfound appreciation for the sensation of your touch. he can feel the slight tingle, akin to electricity, every time your skin makes contact with his wings.
"my apologies," he murmurs, a chuckle slipping past his lips — as if he is not willing his chest to rise and fall rhythmically, having to manually breathe under your intimate ministrations. "i shall endeavour my utmost to be an inanimate statue. your wish is my command."
"haha," you say dryly.
in spite of your tone, sunday cannot help but chuckle at your jest. a cruel man he is, to find amusement in your grumpiness in the early morn. your nimble fingers gently untangle his feathers, and the sensation is a mix of tingles and warmth that spread across his wings. the act of having someone, especially someone he holds in such high esteem, tend to these parts of him that are reserved for only the most intimate moments is endearing, to say the least.
as you work, your movements deliberate and precise, your lover muses softly, "only you could make tending to feathers feel like a luxury."
"it is a luxury when you are not the one doing it yourself," you huff, hands moving around with practiced ease: smoothing a feather here, tugging a broken one out there.
sunday's chest rumbles with barely suppressed laughter at your huff of annoyance, but he remains true to his word and does all he can to keep still. his skin feels electrified with each brush of your touch, even more potent than before, and he wonders idly if it's because he's aware of how much effort you're taking in taking care of him. he is always the one caring and fussing, rather than being cared for and fussed over. it is strange, for the tables to be turnt. strange, had it been anyone else but you.
"perhaps," he manages to say between bouts of laughter, reaching back to catch one of your wrists and presses a chaste kiss upon it. "we could make a habit of this."
"is it truly proper of the head of the oak family to make a habit of keeping himself less than pristine?" you murmur.
how embarrassing; the passing thought occurs to sunday at your words. indeed, it is unbecoming for him, who stands at a position of such power and authority, to be so unkempt, so careless around you. it feels… freeing.
and so his response is a gentle tug upon your wrist, guiding your arms to wrap around his shoulders and link with his fingers. with a smile full of affection and a touch of teasing, he gently brushes his thumb over the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.
"i am simply indulging in the pleasure of being cared for," he answers in that same gentle rumble. "and if that means i am a tad bit less than pristine as a result, so be it."
"i suppose so," you hum, and from where sunday sits in between your legs, he feels you lean forward, hooking your chin over his shoulder. your own wings tickle his cheek, like a lover's kiss in the early morning. "preen me next?"
a low rumble resonates somewhere deep in his chest at the feeling of your breath against his neck. the closeness you've allowed between you is not something sunday takes lightly, and he relishes in it with every beat of his heart.
"with pleasure," he answers, unable to help the upwards tug of his lips as he squeezes your palms.
"let me take care of you, my dove — as you do to me."
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© trappolia 2024
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chrisevansonly · 3 months
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Koala
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charles leclerc x female reader
summary: around the paddock and to charles’s family you’re known as koala…for a very cute reason
warnings: none, very fluffy
a/n: this was self indulgent because i needed sweet charles and fluff tonight <3
To the ordinary person who saw you, they wouldn’t think anything of the sweet hugs and touchy nature of your relationship. To the ordinary person they’d assume this to be just a cute show of affection or PDA.
To the ones that know you, they called you koala.
You’d gained the nickname a few months into dating Charles because you loved to be attached to him, any chance you got. It was a comfort thing and just how you showed your love, Charles loved ever second of it, despite the teasing from a few friends like Pierre Gasly himself.
“Where’s koala?” the frenchman asked catching up to the Monégasque driver as he walked towards the garages.
“She is on her way right now, why?”
“Well it’s just weird not seeing her climbing on you”
Charles rolled his eyes laughing
“Ha ha very funny”
“What’s funny?”
At the sound of your voice Charles turned around, a smile on his face as you looked between the two drivers.
“Oh I was just saying how it’s weird not to see you climbing all over Charles”
Hearing this your face flushed and instinctively you leaned into your boyfriend, his arm quick to wrap around you.
“I do not climb on Charles…I just like to be close to him”
“Whatever you say koala!”
Pierre laughed before excusing himself, leaving you to hide your face in Charles’s chest, a little moment of embarrassment washing over you, even though you didn’t need to feel that way at all.
“I happen to love every bit of attention you give me amour..”
Smiling you looked up at Charles, his eyes soft and filled with nothing but love as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.
“I just love you, and I love being with you…even if I am a little bit clingy”
“You’re not clingy, you’re affectionate…and I love you very much for it”
His arms tightened around you before he pressed one more kiss to your lips
“My little koala…”
The nickname was really very sweet and something you held very close to your heart, coming from Charles it was even more special. So yes while you were affectionate and always appeared wherever he went, and no matter how many people saw you both, they’d never really understand why koala was a nickname that held so much importance behind it.
Charles could never really go too far without his koala anyway, not when she was that beautiful, and that sweet.
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chaewandz · 11 months
Text
DUOLINGO DATE : NRK
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synopsis: niki catches u practicing japanese on duolingo just for him while he’s asleep
wc: 777 words
pairing: nishimura riki x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: niki teases, y/n throws a pillow, cliché, very cringey I must admit
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“translate: a vegetable”
you quickly typed “やさい” into your keyboard, earning a little ding meaning you were correct.
moving onto the next question you were determined to finish the lesson under 30 seconds, even though your speed did not matter in the slightest.
“translate: どうもありがとう!”
“this is way too easy.” you whispered, swiftly typing “thank you very much!” into the space provided. duo blinked at you, then cheered.
“どうもありがとう duo!” you said, giggling as you prepared to answer the next question.
“translate: 先生, おはようございます”
as you were typing the correct english translation, a voice suddenly interrupted.
“what the actual fuck are you doing.”
you jumped, dropping your phone onto the floor and holding your chest, gasping for breath.
“YOU WERE MEANT TO BE SLEEPING!” you declared to your boyfriend as if he was somehow in the wrong for waking up to your extremely loud duolingo practice.
niki laughed and shook his head.
“HELLO why are you learning Japanese from a BIRD when you have me?” he asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, now propped up on his elbows.
“because! you were ASLEEP!” you were determined to blame him but only so you could mask your embarrassment.
niki just rolled his eyes, muttering something in japanese that you tried your absolute hardest to understand. but that was merely impossible considering you were still on level one of “greetings” according to Duo’s lesson plan.
“what was that?” you asked accusingly.
“did you not understand? i thought you were a japanese master…” he teased, a smug look on his face.
you just threw a pillow at him in return. this brought about the most dramatic gasp that you had ever heard from niki, which was not easy to beat considering he did this all the time.
you watched as he contemplated picking up the nearest pillow and chucking it at your head in the name of revenge, but paused and composed himself.
“y/n, why are you learning japanese? especially while I’m asleep?” there was a slight smirk on his lips that let you know that he already knew the answers to his own questions, he just wanted to tease you.
“you know, I know, we all know- let’s move on haha go back to sleep goodnightnikisweetdreams!” you rambled, quickly diving under the covers, hiding your face and turning your body away from him.
this didn’t really do anything. you were only met with loud shuffling and breaths until your boyfriend was now laying next to you, also underneath the covers.
“this is nice.” he whispered sarcastically, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the duvet above him.
“now what do you want.” you turned your body now to face him, only to be met with the same mischievous smirk as before.
“tell me why you were learning japanese as a secret.”
“no.”
“yes!”
“no?”
“YES???”
“FINE. fine fine fine fine you win- alright- whatever- yes I was learning japanese because I wanted to surprise you and your family to make them feel more comfortable at dinner tomorrow and to make you happy.” you whispered the last part, letting out a deep sigh. “can we go to sleep now?”
even in the dark underneath your blankets, you could still pick out the rose colored tint that dusted niki’s cheeks, paired with an equally as flustered grin.
“thank you.” was all he could manage to say without getting too lovey-dovey. slowly, you began to smile back, finding his reaction to be quite sweet, a complete contrast to his sass from moments prior.
niki then grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him so that your head was now resting against his chest with your arms around his waist.
you breathed in his warmth, eyes peacefully closing.
“do you want to stay under the covers because I’m starting to sweat…” he whispered, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence. you just laughed, jokingly rolling your eyes. your laugh instantly made him chuckle as well, chin rested on the top of your head.
“yeah I’m overheating as well.” you slowly released your hands from around his waist and shoved the blanket away, the cool air of your apartment rushing in.
“better?” you asked, fanning his face.
“much.” he grabbed your wrists again and put your arms back to the way they were, wrapped around his waist.
“goodnight riki.” you whispered, titling your head up to lightly press a kiss to his chin.
“goodnight, sneaky japanese prodigy.” he whispered back, smiling as he kissed the top of your head.
and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the same way you did each night. and as always, you wished that you could stay this way forever.
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a/n: 🫠😅💃🏼🩰😚😊☺️😳 guys I wrote this like last summer bc I was trying to beat my gf in our friends quest on duolingo LOLLLL yes freja this is inspired by u. Guys also I gave up learning Japanese on duolingo bc it made absolutely no sense ??? n e ways
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
Note
hii ^^ i looove your writing !! i’m so obsessed with this idea of best friend!eddie teaching virgin!reader how to give head😭😭😭 like maybe they’re watching a movie and a sex scene comes on and out of pure curiosity she’s like “i wonder how it feels…does it feel good?” and omg he would be so vocal, sweet, and instructional😭😭😭
Just call me Mr. Munson
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rockstar!eddie munson x virgin best friend fem!reader
⚠️warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, oral (m receiving), slight female masturbation, corruption kink, slight dom!eddie, very dirty talk, honestly just filth, no use of y/n, overuse of the nickname peach and baby, eddie’s soft for us, readers 20 while Eddie is 21, corroded coffin are in the infancy of their career thus nothing has really changed in eddies life.
wc: 3.7k
note: thank you so much @wdsara48 for the request and the kind words! I hope you enjoy, babe 💗 (remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)
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Your best friend is a rockstar, you always knew he’d make a name for himself with his music, you couldn’t have been more happy for him, but you also miss him like crazy when he’s on tour.
You’d always hang out with the guys when they’d get back; go out for drinks, have game nights at Eddie’s place which usually consisted of dnd, or hit up whatever party was happening that weekend.
The first couple of days were always the best, they would still be in their sex, drugs and rock and roll headspace, trying to adjust to normality after a crazy tour.
You knew all about their sexual escapades while away, of course they weren’t directly said to you, but to each other as you listened in, they’d occasionally throw you a look of remorse as if they’d ruin your virgin ears with their banter. Okay, so you were a virgin, it’s not like you can’t talk about sex though, you more often than not felt like their little sister and it drove you crazy.
You wanted to get some experience and maybe impress them with stories of your own, but when it came down to it, you chickened out. The thought of having sex with a random guy for the sake of gaining experience just didn’t sit right with you, and so you were never able to follow through with it.
You had always secretly hoped that Eddie would maybe teach you some stuff, you would replay possible conversations in your mind of how you’d want to ask him, but you couldn’t follow through with that either. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be experienced in that area, maybe it’s a good thing. Yeah, that’s what you tell yourself but it never really feels truthful.
Tonight you and Eddie have movie night, something you both like to do when he’s just gotten home and in need of ‘his best friend time’ as he puts it. You went and hung out at family video for awhile, Eddie catching up with Steve and Robin while you browsed the new releases, finally settling on some b rated cheesy horror movie and some snacks.
Once back at Eddie’s trailer, you set up the movie while he puts the popcorn on the stove, and unbags the rest of the junk food, while grabbing two beers out the fridge for you both. Throwing the popcorn in whatever big bowl he can find, he makes his way to you, with his arms full.
“Alright, you ready?” He motions to the tv with his head, while trying to gently place everything on the coffee table. “I have a feeling this is gonna be really gory, but yeah I’m ready.” You say before shoving a couple kernels of popcorn into your mouth, “it’s okay, peach. You know if it gets too scary you can always hold onto me.” He beams with a smug smirk. The use of his childhood nickname for you, makes your cheeks bloom a bright red, though it wasn’t out of embarrassment, but an overwhelming sense of pride that no one other than you, knew this side of Eddie, this sweet gentle side. You knew one day he’d get a girlfriend and she’d see this side plus so much more, the thought made your stomach twist in knots but couldn’t think about that, for now you would savor the moments you two spend together.
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You jokingly say, you rarely join in on Eddie’s flirting so when you do, it always catches him off guard. He side eyes you with a small smirk. “So, do you wanna smoke before I press play?” He asks while rubbing his palms on his Jean clad thighs. “Yeah, we can smoke.” Smoking with Eddie usually consists of you taking one hit while he kills the rest.
Correction, you took two hits this time, while Eddie took a couple more than you, before putting the joint out in the ashtray and discarding it off to the side, while pressing play on the remote. Something in the air felt different this time, you couldn’t put your finger on it but there was a tension you were never aware of before. Eddie kept sneaking glances at you, but when you’d look, his eyes would be on the screen, aside from the two times his eyes didn’t look away fast enough. You wanted to ask him if something was wrong or if you had something on your face, but the weed almost made you feel stuck or maybe you were too afraid of what would come out of the conversation.
After sitting in silence watching teenagers be picked off one by one, by some psycho killer as you sipped your beer and every once in a while grabbed for a candy or some popcorn. You took one last glance at Eddie, your eyes met but he looked away almost immediately back onto the screen.
When you looked back at the tv, the scene in front of you was a rather erotic one. The couple were in a car at some type of ‘lovers lake’ spot, the girl was bent over the middle console sucking the guys dick, while his head was thrown back on the head rest.
“What does that feel like?” The words leave your mouth before you are even able to grasp what it was you actually asked. “What?” Eddie asked as his eyebrows furrowed. “Getting head, what does it feel like?” You already asked, might as well find out the answer. “Um, well I mean it feels good.” He says, his eyes meeting yours as he white knuckles his beer bottle, taking a swig. “Mmm, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You don’t know what has come over you, almost like the weed has some type of truth serum in it, you couldn’t stop word vomiting your every thought.
Eddie almost spit out his sip of beer, but instead he swallows it harshly before choking. You sit up and pat his back, while laughing. “Shit, are you okay? Here, put your hands up.” You say as you try to help him lift his right arm into the air. “He pulls his arm away while rubbing his chest, “I’m alright.” He says gently, “you just, you can’t say shit like that, peach. Not to me.”
Now your eyebrows furrow, because what the fuck? He’s your best friend, he can talk about different women all day long and how he fucks them side ways from Monday, but you inquire about one sexual question and now it’s “you can’t say shit like that to me.” You roll your eyes and turn your body towards the tv, huffing out a breath in annoyance.
A couple minutes pass by before Eddie is knocking you out of your thoughts. “Listen, peach I-I,” you cross your arms as he talks, before you cut him off. “Eddie, it’s fine just drop it.” Eddie didn’t know how to drop shit, so you knew that wasn’t gonna happen. “Look at me.” He said with a domineering tone, making you turn your head almost immediately. “Listen, I just- I understand you’re curious and as your best friend I shouldn’t be weird about you, ya’ know experimenting and all that but, I don’t know the thought of some creep seeing you like that, I don’t know it just pisses me off.” He says through gritted teeth. “I get it Eddie, you look at me like your little sister or something.” You say as your head snaps back to the screen, screams booming from the speakers as one of the girls tries to outrun the killer.
“A sister?” Eddie says almost as low as a whisper, “I don’t think of you like a sister, peach. If I had a sister I definitely wouldn’t hang out with her as much as I do with you.” His words make your stomach flutter. “You don’t?” You ask in surprise. “No, no I don’t” Eddie says before taking another swig of his beer. “Well, so why does the thought of me doing that with someone piss you off?” You’re genuinely confused now. “I don’t know, it’s just you're so innocent about shit like that, and I don’t want someone taking advantage of you or..” he trails off before you begin talking, “okay? Well I mean I want to learn, I don’t wanna be a virgin forever.” You say as you roll your eyes. “And you will, just make sure he’s the right guy, ya’ know?”
“Isn’t the purpose to be good before you find the right guy?” You snort, “not necessarily.” He says back, while meeting your eyes. “Not many guys want a girl who doesn’t even know how to suck dick, correctly. Let alone a boring virgin.” You gloomily say while shooting him a bittersweet smile.
“Cmon peach, you’re more than your sexual status, you know that right?” He tilts his head closer to you, doing his best silly face to make you laugh, it worked just like it always did. “There she is.” He smirks.
A couple more minutes pass by before you say the words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, no more overthinking it. “Eddie?” You whisper, capturing his attention as he turns to look at you, “can you teach me?” His eyes widen, his mouth slightly drops open and it moves like he wants to say something but the words are stuck, until finally he’s able to get them out “Y-you want me to teach you?” He says in disbelief.
“Well, I mean I trust you more than anyone, and I’m sure you know what you like, so why not?” You shrug and then turn your head back to the tv for a second before you find his eyes again. “Are you sure about that, peach? I mean I want you to really know what you’re asking for here?” His knee begins bouncing before he’s reaching for the leftover joint in the ashtray. “I’m a big girl Eddie, I know what I’m asking for.” You smirk at the fact that you’re able to fluster him like this. “Okay, so you know the only way I can teach you is by, uh by showing you right?” You’ve never seen him this nervous before, maybe you should’ve done this earlier. “Yes, Eddie. How else would you teach me?” You raise an eyebrow, as he lights up the joint and takes a hit.
“Fuck, peach are you positive you wanna do this? I don’t wanna like fuck up our friendship or make shit weird between us.” He stares into your eyes, a look of genuine concern on his face as the smoke bellows from his mouth. You can’t help the insecurities bubbling up inside of you,“Eddie, if I'm not good enough to suck your dick, then just say that.” Your shoulders slump against the back of the couch, you look away because you can’t bear the rejection.
“Not good enough? What the fuck does that mean?” He says while scooting himself closer to the edge of the couch, trying to see your face from where he’s seated, you don’t answer. “Hey!” He almost shouts with that same domineering tone from earlier. He grabs your cheeks, almost pinching them, making your mouth fall open in an “o” shape. He turns your eyes to meet his, “look at me when I’m talking to you, peach.” His dominant voice gets softer at your nickname, the whole thing has you feeling butterflies somewhere else.
“You wanna learn? Okay then, get on your knees for me, and I’ll teach you. Just call me Mr. Munson.” He says with a cackle, making you laugh along.
You get up from your spot and take a couple steps, now standing in front of Eddie’s wide opened legs, he’s now sitting with his back flush against the couch, knees spread. You sink down to your knees, and look up at him for direction. He stares at you for a couple seconds, while his chest rises and falls.
“Okay, first you’re gonna unbuckle my belt.” He says with a low gruff voice, somehow you were able to undo the belt from the handcuff buckle, rather quickly.
You didn’t need to be told how to take his pants off, unbuttoning and unzipping them with fervor, before you put your thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and plaid boxers, but before you began pulling them down, Eddie stopped you— “hold on, baby.” He breathily says as he puts his heavily tattooed hands over yours, “I uh,” his hands are trembling, everything feels like too much in the moment, he’s never called you baby before but also, why is he so nervous? You know he’s gotten his dick sucked more than he probably even remembers yet here he is more nervous than you.
“Peach, I-I uh, you know I really care about you, right?” His gaze is stirring something inside of you, the adoration in his eyes, clear as day. “Yeah, of course I know that, Ed’s. I care about you too.” You beam up at him, from your spot between his legs.
He removes his right hand from yours, bringing his thumb to your jaw, gliding it against your skin inching closer towards your lips, Eddie rubs the pad of his thumb over your pouty bottom lip, moving it back and forth until his finger stops abruptly. “Open” was all he had to say for you to obey, you open.
His thumb instantly on your tongue, you didn’t need any more instruction as you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked.
“Fuck” Eddie panted while holding your gaze, “you’re so fucking pretty, peach.” He took a few more heavy breaths before he continued, “I’ve always wanted to see you like this.” You can’t believe what he’s saying, ‘he’s always wanted to see me like this? Since when?’ But that’s a question for another day, you want this too bad.
Instead you shoot him a little smirk, “are you ready Mr. Munson?” You say in a seductive tone. “Y-yeah, I’m ready baby.” He laughs at the title he threw around earlier. Your thumbs take up their old position, slowly pulling his boxers and black jeans down to his knees. Eddie’s cock springs out, at attention. You don’t know much about dicks but he looks painfully hard, almost purple and throbbing while the tip leaks clear beads of precum, it makes your mouth water.
You reach for his cock, wrapping your dainty hand around his huge length. Eddie moves to sit up more, as if he needs to see everything you’re doing, “mmm, spit on it baby.” He softly commands as he bites his bottom lip. You get higher up on your knees, mouth a couple inches above his cock, letting a glob of spit fall out of your mouth and onto his angry tip.
Eddie shudders, before he continues his instructions. “Good girl, now rub the spit all over the head and shaft before you start the hand job, it can kind of hurt when it’s dry.” He says before yanking up his band shirt and pulling it up over his head, throwing it over the armrest of the couch.
Your eyes rake over his upper body, as you continue to pump him, his array of tattoos, some you’ve seen some you haven’t, along with nipple rings, yeah you’ve never seen those before. Fuck, he looked so good. You continued to gawk until your eyes met his, his cocky smile looking down at you, knowingly.
“See something you like, peach?” His cocky smile turned into a toothy grin. “Maybe” was all you said before taking his tip into your mouth and lightly sucking. Eddie’s hand flies to your hair, gently taking a handful, “fuck, I didn’t tell you to do that yet, did I? You’re supposed to be a good girl and listen, okay?” He says before pulling you off of his cock. “First I want you to lick from my balls up to the tip, do you understand?” He says while he has your hair pulled back and chin pointed up towards him, almost face to face.
You’ve never seen Eddie this way before, so in charge, so demanding, almost mean but so sexy.
You do as he asked, licking a strip up from his balls to his tip, out of pure curiosity you licked the new beads of precum just to taste, “fuck, you’re such a good girl” he growls, the praise going straight to your pussy.
“Okay baby, now I want you to do what you did before, put your mouth around the tip and suck.” You waste no time, putting the tip back into your mouth and sucking a little harder than before. “Fuck, just like that. Now, look up at me, peach. I need to see those pretty eyes, baby.” When you look up at Eddie, you want to commit the sight in front of you to memory and use it every time you're alone in your bed at night. His eyes were lust filled, his jaw was slack, his head was tilted down as he watched you through his lashes.
“Good girl, peach!” He groans “okay, now take it a little deeper, yes! Fuck that’s it, baby. Just like that.” You couldn’t help it any longer, you were so turned on, you snuck your hand inside your shorts, grinding down on your fingers as they slid across your soaked clit. You continued bobbing on Eddie’s cock, he gathered your hair up in a makeshift ponytail as he controlled your movements.
He was trying so hard not to push your head down and begin fucking your throat, like he was use to. No, he had to be gentle with you, his little peach. In high school, he had this fantasy almost nightly, you sucking his cock, on your knees all cute and innocent. Fuck, he felt like a pervert back then because of it. But now, it’s really fucking turning him on, and he’s more than okay with that.
He sits up slightly as he notices your right hand has disappeared, “are you touching yourself?” He asks with a wide eyed gaze. “Yes, I can’t help it, you’re so sexy.” You whine, not even realizing what you said.
“Oh?” He smirked, “you think I’m sexy?” His hips buck, making his tip hit the back of your throat, gagging you. “Fuck, I think you’re so fucking sexy, keep playing with your little pussy baby, cum for me.” He panted, “I wanna see your face when you come, peach. I need to see it.” You slid his cock out of your mouth as you began rubbing your clit harder, “mmm, oh fuck.” You moaned out, eyes rolling back.
“You sound so pretty, too. Can you take your shirt off for me, peach? Can I see your tits?” He begged, you slipped your hand out of your waistband, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, then you unclasp the black bra that cupped your boobs perfectly. Eddie, doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
You pull the bra from your body, and throw it at him, as you giggle. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath as he sat up to get a better look, left hand lazily stroking his cock. His right hand reaches before he pulls it back, “can I- can I touch?” He asks softly. “Yes, you can touch Ed's.” You say with an innocent bat of your lashes.
He used both hands to grab handfuls of each breast, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. “You really are so beautiful, you know that?” He asks, as he looks over your body and face.
“Yeah? You think so?” You ask as you reach for his cock, missing the way it felt between your fingers and in your mouth. “Oh, I know so.” He chuckles
“Teach me more, Ed’s? I wanna make you cum.” You whisper as you move your head closer to his cock, he can feel your breath on him, but it’s your words that are really doing it for him. He never thought he’d hear you like this, no matter how many times he’s fantasized, but now that he has, he’s addicted. He wants to be your first everything, he has to be.
“Fuck, keep touching yourself with my cock in your mouth, baby.” He whimpers, sitting flush against the couch again, with his head thrown back.
You stuff him back into your mouth, sucking and licking while your hand finds its way back into your shorts and over your clit.
“Yes fuck! Deepthroat baby, breathe through your nose and swallow, look up at me. Fuck yes, Jesus your mouth feels so fucking good.” He scrunches his face up in pleasure, letting out little “fucks” and “shits” as you took him deeper in your throat.
“Mmm alright, spit on it again.” He says as he takes his cock in his hand, slapping your bottom lip with it. You do as you’re asked, “fuck yeah, I like my head sloppy, baby.” You can tell he’s antsy and wants to cum and you’re right behind him, as you continue to rub yourself.
“Take your other hand and wrap it around the middle. Mhm, perfect peach, now I want you to put your mouth on me again, just the tip and a little bit of the shaft, yes just like that, fuck.” You’d do just about anything he asked of you right now, especially if he continues with those moans and his sweet words of praise.
“Okay, now I want you to twist your hand and go up and down, while you suck.” At first it was hard to keep the same rhythm as your hand, but you quickly got the hang of it. “Oh fuck! Oh my god baby! You’re fucking perfect.” He begins bucking his ups up towards your mouth, spit covering your hand as you continue your ministrations on him.
you’re so focused on making him feel good, you forgot about getting yourself off.
“Look at me, baby.” The sight of your tear stained cheeks and glossy eyes, got him. “I’m cumming, fuck!” You take it all into your mouth not letting even a drop go. “Holy shit, peach.” He growls “swallow it.” He demands, while watching you. “Let me see.” Another demand. You stick out your tongue, to show him you did as you were asked.
“Good girl, now get up here and let me make you cum.”
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Thank you for reading! 🍑
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kaleldobrev · 4 months
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Tattoos
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Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader
Platonic Pairing(s): Venetia Catton & F. Reader | Farleigh Start & F. Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader, Felix Catton, Venetia Catton, Farleigh Start & Oliver Quick
Summary: Not only are you dating Felix and best friends with Venetia, the three of you have matching tattoos — something that Oliver simply cannot stand
Word Count: 967
Warnings: Voyeurism (briefly mentioned), Nudity (implied — as this takes place in the field), Unprotected sex (briefly mentioned/implied)
Authors Note: I love the little detail that Felix and Venetia have those matching star tattoos on their hands, so I came up with this little fic about how reader has matching tattoos with both Catton siblings (cause I honestly feel like that’s such a Felix and Venetia thing to do) | This is also my first ever Saltburn fic so I’m hoping that I was able to do the characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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Oliver couldn’t help but stare at the small crescent moon tattoo on your ankle; the exact same crescent moon tattoo that both Felix and Venetia had — and in the exact same place — the right ankle.
He wasn’t…jealous, no that wasn’t the right word, but that was the only word that came to mind for him. He didn’t want a tattoo, was never a fan of them on himself, but, seeing you in particular with this tattoo was hitting him, hitting him harder than he’d particularly like to admit. You weren’t family — you were Venetia’s best friend and Felix’s…girlfriend. He understood the little stars that Venetia and Felix had — they were siblings and had an intense unique bond. But you…you were nobody to them less than 5 years ago. But here you here, the three of you with matching tattoos and you strutting around the estate like you were already a Catton.
He must have been staring in one direction for too long, as he heard Felix's voice calling out to him. "You alright there Ollie?" He asked, and Oliver found himself snapping out of whatever trance like state he had just been in.
“I’m f—I’m fine,” he said, trying to sound a little bit more confident than he currently felt in this moment.
When Felix spoke, not only did he turn to look at him, but you, Venetia, and Farleigh did as well. “Are you sure?” You asked, genuinely concerned about his well-being. Oh, how he despised how much you truly seemed to care.
"You've been staring off into space," Felix added. "What'ya staring at?" He asked, placing the lollipop he had been sucking on back into his mouth.
"Probably Y/N's ass," Farleigh teased, and you swatted his arm playfully; giggling briefly. Your laugh disgusted him because of how sickingly sweet it sounded.
"Farleigh, I'm sure he wasn't," you said defending him. You turned your attention to him, a soft smile on your lips. "Isn't that right Ollie?" You asked. He could barely see your face between the combination of the bright sun and your giant sunglasses that seemed to take up the entirety of your face, similarly to that of Venetia's sunglasses.
"Yeah, wasn't...staring," Ollie answered; his vocal tone sounding a tad nervous; and a little embarrassed. He wasn't looking at you, not in that way; you weren't the reason he was here, Felix was.
"I wouldn't blame ya Ollie," Felix began. "She does have a nice one," he finished, his voice almost sounding proud as he smacked your bare rear in front of the four of you.
You let out a tiny yelp; not the usual kind of moan you usually let out whenever he's heard you and Felix have sex. "Get a room you two," Venetia said, briefly glancing up from her book.
"We have a whole estate love," you winked; both you and Felix started laughing in response.
"Not when I'm still living here," she added.
"I second that," Farleigh said, chiming back into the conversation as he raised his hand in agreement with Venetia.
"Prudes," you mumbled underneath your breath, slightly teasing.
"Hey!" Venetia exclaimed. It was her turn to playfully swat you. "If anyone is the prude, it's little Ollie over there." She grinned. "Ollie, when was the last time you had sex?"
"V!" Both Felix and you exclaimed.
"What?" Venetia asked, her tone slightly clueless.
"You cannot just ask people that. It's a little rude," you stated.
"It's not rude. It's a perfectly fine question," she defended. "For example," she began, turning her attention to her brother. "Felix, when was the last time you had sex?" A smallish grin forming on her lips; as if she already knew the answer to her question.
"This morning," he responded all too quickly, and you swatted him on the chest, which caused him to smirk at you in response. Oliver knew all too well the truth in that statement, as he had a slight front row seat to yours and Felix's morning activities. He didn't see anything, but he heard everything as if he was in the room with the two of you. The moans the both of you let out, the dirty talk the both of you shared — performing in such a way as if the two of you were the only two in the entire estate. He wanted so much to see it, to open the bedroom door, he knew that the door would have creaked — pressing his ear against the bedroom door sufficed...for now anyway.
"Kinky," Farleigh smirked, and you rolled your eyes.
"All of you are ridiculous," you stated, closing your book as you started to slowly kick your feet in the air. "Don't answer her Ollie."
"It was before uni," he mumbled.
"What'ya say Ollie?" Felix asked, raising a brow.
"Before uni," Oliver said a bit louder this time.
Felix and Venetia exchanged looks before Felix looked at him with a slightly devilish looking grin. It was impossible not to love any kind of smile he would give. "For your party tomorrow, we'll get you laid. It'll be my birthday present to you."
"Kind of a lame birthday present, love," you teased.
Felix let out a small laugh. "You weren't complaining when that was a part of your birthday gift last year," he teased back. That's when he leaned in, kissing you in the most loving way possible; and Oliver actually felt like he was on the verge of throwing up looking at the two of you. He had witnessed the two of you kissing plenty of times, had witnessed snippets of you two being intimate in various ways, but for some reason, this particular interaction had almost set him off. Felix was so madly in love with you that it physically pained him to see it.
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xsaltburnx · 5 months
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One more?
a/n: this goes out to all the Farleigh girls, I got you and I hope you like it, even though it's a bit long, I got carried away
warning: 18+, smut, smut and some more smut, swearing, just sexy time, P in V (wrap it before you tap it)
word count: 3,550
The Catton family. You've been friends with Venetia and Felix for years, always celebrating your birthday at Saltburn, which has always turned out to be the craziest party of the summer.
You loved spending time there with them because you got away from all of the shitty problems you had at home, everything that was bothering you suddenly disappeared into thin air the moment you stepped on Saltburn ground.
Another reason why you loved being there was Farleigh fucking Start.
Tall, curly headed, as Felix called him "little shit-stirrer", is the most gorgeous fucking man you have ever seen in your life. He literally had everything. Everything about him was absolutely perfect.
The way his lips wrapped around a cigarette butt, the way his gorgeous hair flopped around when he walked and especially the way his eyes sparkled everytime he looked at you.
His attitude though was something else, sometimes he acted like a fucking toddler, sometimes he was so cocky that even he himself was surprised but to you he was always kind of sweet. Sometimes coming to your room late at night to talk to you, it was if not favourite, one of the favourite things to do with him and it gave you a chance to listen to his beautiful voice. Oh,that thing about him has always made you weak in the knees. Deep voice, sometimes a little bit raspy when he talked quietly or when he was mad but that raspiness was more like warm butter, spreading through the air so beautifully that sometimes you got lost in his words.
Yes, you were totally in love with him. But did he feel the same? You never asked.
*
You and Venetia were laying on the freshly cut grass on your stomach, your legs dangling in the air with your hands under your chin, the smell spreading through the air. That was one of your favourite things about summer. Well that and Farleigh in shorts, shirtless.
You swallowed hard when you saw Farleigh walk out of the pond in front of you, small drops of water cascading down his beautifully sculpted body, his hair perfect like always. You used your index finger to lower your sunglassed a little bit, wanting to properly see him and enjoy the view a little bit longer when Venetia interrupted your daydreaming.
"Something interesting down there?" You quickly snapped out of it and pushed your sunglasses up your nose, trying to hide your embarrassment, but it was too late.
"What? No, I was just.. looking at.. that bird over there." You pointed your finger to the left, clearly a totally different direction you were staring in just a minute ago.
"Yeah right, I saw you looking at Farleigh, you're so into him it's ridiculous." She trailed off, not taking her eyes off you. "You should tell him because he's into you too." You scoffed and looked at her.
"What?" The confusion is clearly audible in your voice.
"Yeah, he's always staring at you when you're not looking, I told him and Felix told him like a million times to try something but he's being a little bitch, so that's why we're still here, you staring at him, him obviously now staring at you."
She pointed at him, you followed her finger but when you laid your eyes on him, he was already walking away, his back turned towards you.
"If you guys don't hook up tonight at the party, I'm seriously taking matters into my own hands." She picked up her phone and got up, leaving you alone outside, the only company that you had were your thoughts. You wanted him so much, to feel his lips on yours, to bury your fingers inside that beautiful hair of his, you had to do something or you were going to lose your fucking mind.
*
"Are you ready?" You heard Venetia's voice travel down the hall all the way to your room, as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, straightening your short lavender glittery dress. Silver wings sitting perfectly on your back, giving you the look of a fairy.
"Ready!" You yelled just as Venetia entered your room.
"Wowza, Farleigh will go absolutely bonkers when he sees you." She complimented you as she looked you up and down one more time, making sure that everything was in perfect place. You gave her a smile and took one more deep breath before you intertwined your hand with Venetia's, ready to join the party.
As soon as you walked downstairs, the smell of cigarettes and probably 20 different kinds of alcohol invaded your nostrils. There were some people you've never even met before because of course Elspeth had to invite everybody and make it the best party of the century. You can't blame her, she lives for these kind of things.
You looked around the room, Venetia instantly catching on to whom you were looking for, a slight grin appearing on her face. While still holding on your right hand, she lifted her left one and pointed straight all the way across the room.
There he was. Leaned against the wall with a cigarette between his index and middle finger. He leaned his head back and blew the smoke out of his mouth, your eyes catching just a small glimpse of his tongue licking his top lip. He was wearing a white button down shirt, unbuttoned probably half way down, exposing his chest, the sweat on his skin literally looking like glitter and that was just enough for you to almost choke on your own saliva. He looked so fucking gorgeous.
He caught your gaze and smiled at you and you took that as a sign to go up to him.
Venetia let go of your hand and slapped you playfully on the ass as a 'good luck' sign. You winked at her and made your way through the crowd, now and then accidentally bumping into a few people. Thank god you were wearing high heels so you could actually see where you were going and had Farleigh in front of you the entire time.. You reached the other side of the room and were met with those familiar dark brown eyes and a smile worth more than all the diamonds in the world.
He bent down and leaned forward because even though you were wearing heels, he was still so much taller than you. "You look incredible." He yelled in your ear, trying to speak over the music and again locked his eyes on you. You smiled at him.
"Thank you. You look incredible too." You answered as calmly as you could, but in your head you had a totally different answer. Somebody bumped into Farleigh, making his body bump into yours.  At that moment, the scent of his perfume and just him invaded your nostrils, feeling like the toughest drug you have ever encountered. He looked down at you and bit his lip, his hand reaching towards your face as he tucked a thin strand of hair behind your ear. It felt like electricity floating through your body when you felt his hand graze your cheek.
"Wanna dance?" He asked and you nodded instantly, maybe too fast but you didn't care. At that moment you didn't care about anything else but Farleigh.
He gently took your hand and led you through the crowd, finding a place that wasn't as crowded as the middle of the dance floor, so you could dance properly and that was more towards the corner of the room. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer, his hips swaying together with yours to the rhythm of the music.
You placed your hands around his neck, his eyes never leaving yours. You smiled at him and threw your head back, your hair moving through the air like silk, the glitter on your collar bones and your face illuminating under the colorful lights, literally making you look like a fairy.
Farleigh swallowed hard and suddenly stopped moving and stepped back a little bit, making you look at him, confused.
He took your hand in his, the back of your facing up. He put some of the very familiar white powder on top of it, creating a single line. He put the rest of it in his pocket before he bent down and inhaled what was on your hand, his nose following the line smoothly. He threw his head back in what could only be described as pleasure. Your lips parted at the sight of him in that state, your desire to kiss him even bigger now. You needed him so much, your body feeling like it would explode from the desire and want for this curly headed man.
He looked down at your hand, stepped closer and smirked as he stuck out his tongue and licked the remaining powder, his tongue licking it in one quick motion, his eyes never leaving yours. You swallowed hard at his intense gaze, the room suddenly feeling 20 degrees hotter. A few seconds later he pulled you in and locked his lips with yours in a deep, passionate kiss filled with desire and need for each other.
You finally intertwined your fingers in his hair, pulling at the roots a little bit, earning a quiet moan from him. He cupped your face with his large hands, his tongue easily slipping inside your mouth. You couldn't believe what was happening, afraid to let go because you thought you would wake up and see that it was all just a dream. But it wasn't. His lips fit yours like they were made for each other, melting together. He broke the kiss and looked at you, his fingertip grazing your soft cheek, only now noticing the glitter on your cheekbones.
"You look like a fairy." He whispered more to himself than to you, but you heard him loud and clear. You smiled at him and wanted to look down at your feet but before you could do that, he placed his index finger under your chin and lifted your head up, your eyes meeting his again. 
"Wanna get out of here?" he asked, his fingers tucking another strand of hair behind your ear, his palm now resting on your cheek. You didn't even notice you leaned into his palm, feeling like it was made for holding your face. 
"Like you even have to ask." That was all you let out before he smirked and placed his hands on your hips, turning you around so you were in front of him as he led you through the crow, his hands never leaving your body. You couldn't tell how you felt at that very moment because it was all mixed. Nervous? Horny? Happy? You name it, it was all there, but what you wanted even more to be there were Farleigh's hands all over your body in the ways you only imagined in your head. 
You walked through the long hallway, passing some of the people until you reached the part of the house where Farleigh's room was at. Farleigh opened the door, his hand resting on your lower back, leading you into his room. You stepped inside and walked around a little bit, looking at some of the pictures he had hung on the walls, slightly unfamiliar to you. It was somehow weird how his room was exactly the way you imagined it. Every bit of it.
"You know I've always had a crush on you?" He said quietly, his voice a little bit more raspy than usual, probably because of all the yelling over the music. You turned around abruptly and locked eyes with him, his arms crossed on his chest, his back against the wooden door. 
"What?" 
"Yeah." he trailed off and took a step towards you, his arms now behind his back. "Every time I saw you I wanted to tell you how much I liked you and then Felix said something about how you would never go for me because I'm an idiot" you laughed a little bit at that part. "which is not far from the truth because sometimes I am, but still." he took a few more steps and now your bodies were almost touching. "god you're beautiful." you looked down at your feet again but he did exactly the same thing he did when you were still down there, he lifted up your chin with his index finger, his eyes looking directly into yours, it was like he was staring into your soul.
"I can't tell you how many times I have wanted to do this." he leaned down and kissed your lips in such a gentle way, his fingers gently grazing your cheek and then your jawline. "or this," he then placed a kiss on your cheek, on your jawline and followed that line until he reached your neck, his lips planting a kiss right on your sweet spot, instantly sending shivers down your spine. 
Your head fell back and you closed your eyes. your heart feeling as if it would jump out of your chest. You laid your hands on his arms, trying to hold onto something because you felt like your legs would give out at that very moment. You let out a quiet moan and felt him smirk against your neck, your hands finding their way to his curly hair. 
"Farleigh" you whispered and cupped his face, lifting his head up to see it before you smashed your lips against his in a desperate kiss. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, working around as his hands roamed all over your body, like they were trying to remember every single curve. His hands reached behind you to find the zipper, his fingers skillfully pulling it down, exposing your back to the cold air of his room. 
"May I?" He asked against your lips and the only thing you did was nod and move back a little bit so he could pull it down until it hit the floor, now pooling around your feet. "Fuck." he whispered and looked down, his teeth pulling on his bottom lip so hard it turned white. He lunged forward and picked you up, your legs wrapping instantly around his waist as he carried you to his bed and gently laid you down. You pulled him down for another kiss, your hands never leaving his face. His one hand cupped your covered breast while the other travelled slowly from your chest to your stomach, his fingers drawing invisible circles around your belly button, but they didn't stop there. He placed them just above your panties and then inside, moving them further down until he found what he was looking for. 
"Damn you're already wet and I've barely touched you." His finger slowly slipped inside of you, grazing the front side of your inner wall as he watched your lips part in pleasure. He repeated the movement a couple more times and then removed his finger from your body, a whine escaping your lips.
"Farleigh, I need you." you said desperately. your body squirming from how badly you wanted him. He chuckled quietly and moved off the bed, his hands grabbing your ankles as he pulled you closer to the foot of the bed. His fingers hooked under the sides of your panties, very slowly pulling them down, the cold air in the room hitting your bottom half. He got down on his knees and pulled you even closer, his lips planting a gentle kiss on your right inner thigh, then your left one, his hands resting on your legs. He leaned forward and blew slightly on your cunt, your body jumping at the sensation and your lips parting when he connected his lips to the place where you needed him the most. He gave your clit a few gentle licks before he started sucking on it and then went back to moving his tongue in figure eights all around your clit, grazing it every now and then. He could see how frustrating it was to you, him playing with you like that, teasing you but just seeing him down there, eating you out like his life depended on it, like you were his favourite candy turned you on even more. 
You arched your back and grabbed the sheets, your hips bucking up every now and then, desperate for something more. You were on the verge of tears because of how frustrated you were and Farleigh could see it but deep down he was enjoying it way too much. 
"Farleigh, please." you whimpered and then suddenly the cold air hit your bottom half again as Farleigh got up and took a few steps back. You propped yourself up on your elbows to see what he was doing and oh boy did you like what you saw. His fingers skillfully started unbuttoning that white shirt he had on, taking his time with it, especially the last few buttons but once he got to that last button and his shirt flew open, your breath hitched. It wasn't like you have never seen him shirtless before, this was different. This was for your eyes only. You bit your lip at the sight of him, his fingers unzipping his pants and pushing them down as he stepped out of them, now standing in front of you only in his boxers. Fuck he looked so damn good like that. That single light that was on in the room made his skin look even more beautiful, a few drops of sweat on his chest glisten in the light. 
"I like the sound of you begging, but I want you to cum when I'm inside of you." He trailed off, his voice somehow even deeper than usual, filled with lust and hunger. You sat up and unhooked your bra, now completely naked in front of him on his bed. He quickly took off his boxers, his cock now free, your mouth watering at the sight of him. He lunged forward and laid on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He looked deep into your eyes, his hand stroking his cock a few times as he lined up with you and pressed his tip in breaching your cunt. "God, you're so fucking tight," he moaned, his hips pressing into you inch by inch until he was fully inside you, your walls hugging his cock nicely. 
"You ok?" he said gently, his body shaking a little bit. You could see that he was holding back but you needed him. You need him so desperately to move and to feel him fully.
"Please move, Farleigh:" That was all he needed to hear. He pulled his hips back almost all the way, only the tip of his cock resting inside of you before he slammed back in, earning a loud whimper from you. With each thrust he gave he hit that beautiful spot inside, your hands finding their way to his curly hair as you pulled on the roots making him throw his head back. 
With each thrust he was getting faster and harder and you suddenly felt that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. 
"C'mon baby, I can feel you squeezing me, let go for me" He moaned between his thrusts, focusing on hitting that beautiful spot inside. He gave you a few more of his hard thrusts and your body exploded around him, your orgasm tearing through your body, his name falling off his lips loudly. He fucked you through your orgasm but he didn't stop there, he wasn's stopping.
"Baby I know you can do more, c'mon, one more?" it didn't take long for that familiar feeling to appear again. You knew you would cum fast this time, especially with the brutal pace Farleigh has set. You dug your nails in his back and scratched him from his shoulder blades to his lower back when you felt your seconds orgasm washing over you, your legs shaking and your back arching. Just at the sight of you like that, cumming because of him and in how much pleasure you were in was enough to finally send Farleigh over the edge. He quickly pulled out of you, his hand stroking his cock at a fast pace. You quickly sat up and took him in your mouth, your hand stroking what you couldn't fit inside as you felt his sperm shoot down your throat, drinking every drop he gave you. You looked up at him and saw his head thrown back in pleasure, his lips parted and his torso flexed. It was easily the hottest thing you have ever seen in your life and you knew you would get to experience this whenever you wanted. 
He laid down on the bed beside you, both of you trying to catch your breath. He laid on your side to admire you, how beautiful you looked like this, freshly fucked. Somehow he couldn't believe what just happened. You turned your head and saw him stare at you, his lips curled up into a smile.
"What?" You asked quietly.
"I can't believe how beautiful you are and all mine." He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently massaging it.
"Only yours."
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Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price
[MASTERLIST]
Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...
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John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you. 
Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”
However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…
More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…
And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants… 
He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6. 
There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.
His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you. 
He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.
He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.
But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.
So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…
You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain… 
It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.
As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.
Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.
You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.
They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.
“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.
“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.
“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.
You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.
You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.
“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen. 
A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.
Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”
Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you. 
“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it. 
It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.
“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call. 
“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.
“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.
“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.
Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.
“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.
“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.
Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.
“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”
“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.
“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.
“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.
It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.
“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.
“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.
“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.
After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.
The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.
“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.
“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.
“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant. 
“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.
“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.
“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.
Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.
The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”
“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.
“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.
“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.
He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…
So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?
Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.
Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.
“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.
The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…
So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?
He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.
“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.
You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…
His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.
“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.
A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.
“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.
“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.
The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?
Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.
“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.
“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”
[MASTERLIST]
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extra: 500 words-ish
The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen…  “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.
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donatellawritings · 3 months
Note
NEED NEED NEED NEED NEEEEEEEDDDD sweetheart latina calming rafe down from an episode !1!1!1!1!@!@!@!2!2 i just know for a fact that he would avoid her to hide it
honestly, you’re so right lol - lol i may have gotten a bit excited
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you had to give rafe credit: he hadn’t had one of his tried and true blistering breakdowns for the past few months, in fact, he hadn’t even punched a hole in the wall, since he met you. he’d been hyper fixated on you since the moment you first looked up at him through your wispy doll lashes, your dreamy eyes glazing over his strained baby-blues. you were sickeningly sweet, your cheesy smile clashing perfectly with his locked jaw and stoic frown. i mean, rafe had even decided to drastically cut down on his drug intake - seeing the way your swollen lips pulled into a displeased frown, overcoming him with shame and guilt. it was clear that you made him a better man, a man that could even make his family proud — possibly.
it was crystal clear that rafe was on edge, from the moment you woke up, you found him sat at the edge of the bed, his back muscles tense as he held his head in his hands, “hi baby,” you cooed, your lace white panties peeking from underneath the borrowed north carolina panthers t-shirt that you’d found sleep in as you crawled over to rafe, placing your delicate hand on his feverishly bouncing leg.
rafe blinked slowly, shaking his head as he curled an arm around your neck, hastily pulling you into his side as he pressed his lips to your forehead with a loud smack of his lips against your skin, “y’should go home today, i have shit to take care of and i don’t want you around to see that, yeah?” he decided, his voice low and stern as he kept his eyes focused on the polished hardwood floor beneath his sock-clad feet.
your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you pulled your hand away from his leg, sitting back on the heels of your feet as you ignored the sudden swirl of nerves in your stomach, “you want me to go home?” you asked, your voice lightly breaking as you stared at the side of rafe’s face, a pout now tugging on your lips as you reached to grab his face, “babe, just look at me-”
rafe was quick to catch your wrist, his grip tight as he finally brought his eyes to meet yours, his pupils blown to hell as you closed your mouth, “i said, go home, i don’t want to repeat myself, a’ight?” he rasped, forcing his gaze forward as you snatched your wrist from his grip.
rafe understood your behavior, he even blamed himself for it. he spoiled you, gave you anything and everything that you wanted, the moment you asked for it. you were spoiled and stubborn, you never took not getting your way lightly.
with an unimpressed scoff of a laugh, you pushed yourself off of the bed with a roll of your eyes as you grabbed the nearest pair of your bedazzled light grey boyshorts, sliding them on swiftly as you reached for your phone. your pearlescent acrylic nails tapped furiously against the glass screen as you texted kie, warm tears clouding your vision as you snatched your gifted dior bag that sat on rafe’s dress to sit over your shoulder. crouching before rafe, you ran your fingers through your hair.
“don’t call me,” you sniffled, before pulling away from rafe who licked over his dry lips, maintaining his gaze to remain at the wall over your shoulder, “and don’t look for me, either,” you wiped your eyes with the sides of your index fingers as you grew frustrated with rafe’s silence, sliding your pedicured feet into your sandals before exiting his bedroom, allowing the door to slam behind you as rafe remained seated on his bed.
you knew that you were pushing the limits with rafe, but you needed him to feel even a fraction of the hurt and embarrassment that came from him sending you away. he was mean and you hated that cold side of him, you hated how well it got under your skin, you hated how it never failed to make you cry. your top teeth dug into the fat of your bottom lip as you waited at the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe he’d chase after you, wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay - you didn’t even care if he’d be lying, you just wanted rafe.
hot tears stained your puffy cheeks as you made your way downstairs, your lashes heavy and wet as you fought to blink your tears away. why did he have to be so mean? why did he have to push you away? your bottom lip quivered as you stood on the front porch of tannyhill, giving kiara a small wave as her car approached the residence. your cousin remained silent as you entered the car, her hand reaching over the console to cradle yours as you sobbed.
kiara was fully aware as to just how much you liked rafe, much to her extreme dismay. she was privy to, and oftentimes witnessed rafe’s violent mean streak, as well as his icy demeanor and it bothered her to know that of all people, it had to be you, her sweet cousin and best friend that fell in love with the only son of ward cameron. even though, she had to admit that even she had noticed his slightly improved behaviors, thanks to you, yet her disdain for the young man was quickly reignited at the sight of your usually bright eyes, now bloodshot with stinging tears.
she’d decided to wait until you’d calmed down a bit, before nudging your side with her knuckle, “give me your phone,” kiara asked softly, a wave of relief crashing over her as you complied with ease, setting the phone to silent mode as you slid the phone into her hand, “wanna go to the beach?” she offered, placing your phone into the glove compartment.
now fiddling with the diamond ‘R’ initial that hung from your dainty chain, you nodded weakly, leaning your head against kiara’s arm as she drove father away from the cameron residence.
ྀིྀ
it didn’t take long for your sad tears to subside, once you were on the beach, the warm and inviting sun, drying your tears and burning your heartbreak as you took a sip of the smooth mango juice that kie prepared for you. a low mewl of satisfaction left you swollen lips as you let the juice glide down your throat. you boyshorts and borrowed t-shirt were swapped with a pink triangle bikini set, your layered hair pushed back by your sunglasses as you walked along the shoreline, damp sand tickling your painted toes.
of course, you had found that your mind would flutter back to wondering about rafe, secretly yearning to see him, but you remained strong, mostly thanks to your cousin and friends who’d made it their mission to at least distract you for a few hours.
“‘sup mama! y’gonna get in with us, or …” jj beamed, pulling you in for a short hug, the hyperactive blonde nodding towards the water, cocking his head to the side as you shook your head.
“i don’t want to mess up my hair,” you whined, taking another sip of your juice as jj’s exaggerated sigh caused you to let out a breathy laugh around your paper straw.
“kie, she doesn’t want to get her hair wet!” jj announced with a playful roll of his eyes as your cousin approached the two of you, a face of annoyance wearing on her features, “woah, what’s wrong?” the blond asked, nudging kie’s chin with the side of his finger.
kiara huffed, before locking her eyes on you, “rafe is here,” she forced a smile, before swallowing thickly as she took a quick glance over her shoulder towards the opposite side of the beach.
you stomach sank as you followed her gaze, the sight of rafe walking out of his black pick-up truck causing you to freeze still. you ignored the small part of you that found excitement in the fact that he’d decided to find you, yet the sudden well of tears that glazed your vision proved otherwise. he’s the one that told you to leave, you didn’t do anything wrong.
blinking away your threatening tears, you adjusted the strings of your bikini to sit comfortably on your hips, “i don’t want to see him,” you mumbled, your eyes silently pleading with kiara’s as jj pressed an innocent kiss to the side of your head, before making his way into the water, avoiding any contact with rafe altogether.
“i’ll try to stall him, okay?” she shrugged, pacing backwards for a few steps before turning to walk towards rafe.
you locked over your supple lips, lowering your sunglasses to conceal your eyes as you watched kiara block rafe’s direct path to you. a small pang of guilt flashed in your chest as you watched him run his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration.
“kie, i don’t have the time for this shit right now, just let me see her,” rafe raised his hand, shaking his head as he walked around kiara, his knuckles swollen as he ran his hand over his face. an annoyed huff left his lips as kiara grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks with wide eyes.
“you told her to leave, don’t forget that,” kiara spat, snatching her hand away from his arm as she walked away from the taller man, hastily making her way towards jj who sat on his surfboard, carefully watching kiara’s interaction with rafe.
a silent cry hummed within you as rafe’s eyes met yours. your heartbeat quickening with each step that brought you and rafe closer. you’d become overwhelmed with anxiety as you suddenly found yourself spinning on your heels, walking away from rafe, and towards kiara.
“wait, baby, please, just-” rafe jogged up to you, softly grasping your arm as you turned to face him, sliding your arm away down his grasp as kept your head down, “c‘mon, mama, let me look at you, please,” he pleaded, bringing both of his hands to either side of your face, before softly lifting your sunglasses, revealing your reddened and damp eyes.
with a sniffle, you pulled away from rafe, “i don’t want to see you, right now,” you squeaked, taking a few steps backs from your flustered boyfriend.
“stop fuckin’ walking away from me!” rafe shouted, before grabbing your waist and holding you against his front, his chest heaving for a few breaths, before he let out a childlike sob, “m’sorry, princess, i just had a really bad fuckin’ day,” rambled, his tear-stained face tucked into your neck as you were quick to face him, a pout on your lips as you cradled his face in your hands.
“rafe,” you sighed, nudging his nose with the tip of yours, “que te pasa?”
wordlessly, rafe pulled you into his chest, his long arms wrapping around your waist as you both lightly swayed from side to side. you weren’t used to rafe being so emotionally vulnerable, he was usually the one who would calm you down from crying fits and panic attacks, so this was new territory for you. and, it broke your heart to pieces to watch your man break down in front of you.
“m’just waiting to fuck things up with us, i know m’gonna fuck up,” he ranted.
standing on the tips of your toes, you wrapped your arms around his tense neck, “no, papi, everything’s okay,” you cooed, pressing you lips to his cheek as you held him just a wee bit tighter, “let’s go home,” you kissed rafe’s lips, a pillowy soft kiss.
“let’s go home,” he mumbled, terrified that if he let go of you, you’d find a way to slip away from him.
and so, you’d found yourself coaxing rafe into a peaceful sleep, your nails scratching gently at his scalp as he laid between your legs, his face smushed against your stomach. the dangle of his chain tickling you as he shifted in his sleep. you could see the gnarly imprint of his knuckles impacting the wall, as his inflamed knuckles laid against your waist, the chill of your seamless shorts easing the dull throb of his hands.
“i love you, okay,” you whispered.
“i love you,” rafe mumbled into the skin of your stomach.
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ellecdc · 2 months
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hiya elle!!!
could i request a first-time dad sirius fic of siri introducing his baby to the other marauders?? 🩷🩷
so. stinkin'. cute.
dad!Sirius Black x mom!reader who are introducing their first child to the Marauders
You felt as though you were experiencing the world through glasses that weren’t your exact prescription, riding out the last of the adrenaline coursing through your veins after the past 24 hours. You were floating in this liminal space between discomfort and euphoria, pain and joy, worry and love.
You thought perhaps though the love was beginning to win out.
You were sitting in your hospital bed as you watched Sirius gently bounce the tiny bundle he was holding up to his face.
“Isn’t her nose just perfect, sweets?” He asked you (for quite possibly the 13th time in the four hours your daughter has been earth side) without moving his gaze from said nose.
“So perfect.” You agreed readily, smiling softly at the picture and hoping that this image in your memory didn’t fade as you became more lucid. 
There was a gentle knock before a mop of wild hair and a pair of spectacles shoved its head in through the door to your room.
James gasped quietly yet no less dramatically as he looked between you and Sirius.
“Can we come in?” He whispered, adorning quite possibly one of the biggest smiles you’d even seen on him (which was really saying something, considering he has been notoriously sunny since the day you met him), before Lily shoved her head in just below his. 
“I promise we’ll behave.” She added.
Sirius chuckled and nodded his head in invitation. “You were never the one we were worried about, Red.”
In a way that only happened throughout the history of humanity at the precise moment family members or loved ones entered the room of a newborn and their parents; Lily, James, and Peter all tiptoed in, for some reason even hunching low as if their lack of height would somehow make them any quieter.
James gasped again as he and Lily peered over Sirius’ shoulder to get a glimpse of the newborn in his hands; all three friends sharing identical beaming grins. “She’s beautiful, Sirius.” Lily whispered in awe.
“Bloody perfect, is what she is.” James agreed, leaning around Sirius to look at you. “Way to go, mum. Brilliant job you’ve done.”
“Thank you, Jamie.” You replied, turning a little shy as Sirius turned his lovesick gaze to you, which was very embarrassing considering he literally just watched you push his fucking child out of your crotch. 
“What’s her name?” Peter asked, standing in front of Sirius like an eager kid waiting for their turn to pick a toy from the treasure box.
“This is Aurora Jubilee.” Sirius said proudly, turning his daughter slightly so that Pete could get a look.
“Bloody perfect.” James reiterated when you heard a quiet commotion outside your hospital room.
“I said I was sorry, Reg. The baby can’t tell time yet, she won’t know you’re late!”
You then heard something that sounded an awful lot like someone being whacked with a bouquet of flowers.
“Idiot.” Regulus hissed. “I’m trying to make a good impression; just because you don’t worry whether or not Harry finds his uncle to be untimely doesn’t mean I want to set the same precedent for my niece. Tu as tellement de chance tu es une bonne baise.”
The door pushed open slightly further as Remus and Regulus quietly stepped in, furious blushes adorning their faces when they realised that you all had paused in order to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“How nice of you to finally join us, little brother. Your niece has been asking for you.” Sirius deadpanned. 
Regulus scoffed and Remus grimaced as Regulus came rushing over to your side and pressed a kiss to your hair. “How are you doing, mama?” He asked, pulling back to consider your form as Remus pressed his own kiss to your head. 
“I’m good, uncle Reggie, thank you.” You smiled at him.
“Good.” He said with a curt nod. “I worry, leaving you in the care of my brother - you deserve better.”
“Sod off.” Sirius muttered, causing Lily to gently swat at his back.
“Watch your mouth, Sirius. There are little ears now.”
“Yeah, watch your fucking mouth, Sirius.” Remus volleyed.
“Christ, our kids are doomed.” Lily complained as she moved to sit on the end of your bed.
“Okay, I can’t take it anymore; let me hold her.” James demanded, making grabby hands to Sirius.
“Okay but Prongs, I swear to god if you fumble this like you fum-”
“I didn’t fumble that pass! You threw it too hard!” James quickly negated with a petulant whine.
Moving in slow motion, Sirius relinquished his hold on his new favourite person into James’ capable and seasoned dad hands before moving to perch himself beside you on your bed. 
“‘Lo, Aurora. I’m uncle Prongs; your favourite. I’m going to buy you so many stuffies, your dad and mum will need to buy a second place  just to have somewhere to put them all. And Haz is going to be the best big cousin you could ever ask for; he’s already trying to convince me to buy you a bike so you guys can ride together. And-”
“Okay.” Lily interrupted. “My turn.” 
James harrumphed but acquiesced and passed her over to his wife.
“She has her mummy’s nose.” Lily cooed, causing Sirius to gently pull you into his side and pressing his nose into your hair.
“That’s what I’ve been saying.” He said, causing you to snort.
“No. You just kept saying it was perfect.” You argued.
“Exactly.”
“Let’s just hope you have your mummy’s smarts, too.” Lily concluded, passing Aurora to Pete.
“Oi!” 
“Hi, ‘Ro.” Peter said, smiling down at the infant as she started to stir slightly. “No, no. Please don’t wake up. Oh god, oh god, James take her - take her! I’m not ready for this!”
“Oh hand her ‘ere.” Remus mumbled, moving to take the tiny bundle from his mate. “Wormy smells, doesn’t he, little love?” He cooed at the baby who, much to Peter’s chagrin, stopped fussing immediately. 
“Oh you and I are going to get into so much trouble, darlin’. I’m going to teach you so many swear words, and I’ll help you prank your dad any time you want - you just give me a ring and I’ll be there.”
Any contention between Remus and Regulus from their arrival melted quickly as Regulus leaned into Remus’ side to gaze at the newest Black family member. 
“You wanna hold her, love?” Remus asked him quietly, causing Regulus to shake his head quickly. 
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
Sirius scoffed. “Please, we let Peter hold her.”
“Sod off!”
“What if I drop her?” Regulus continued.
“Just don’t drop her. God, you’re a weird bloke.” Sirius muttered under his breath, though Regulus seemed to catch it as he levelled his brother with a glare. 
His face softened considerably as Remus shifted his hold in order to transfer Aurora into Regulus’ careful arms.
He spent a few moments just looking down at his new niece, a silent conversation seeming to pass between them as Remus reached around him to stroke the downy soft skin on the side of her face.
“Okay, I’ve only known Aurora for three minutes; but if anything ever happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” He said simply. 
Peter let out a nervous laugh before he realised Regulus was quite serious. 
“Good.” Sirius said with a nod. “That’s why we picked you to be her godfather.”
Regulus’ head whipped up at that as he seemed to strengthen his hold on the baby in his arms.
“You what?”
“If anything ever happened to us, we know you’d do everything in your power to give her a good life - the best life.” You explained.
“I- but…really?”
“Yeah.” Sirius said emphatically. “Besides, you inherited all of mother and father’s dirty money anyway, might as well use it to spoil our girl.”
Though there were clearly tears forming in Regulus’ eyes, he turned his attention back to his goddaughter with a derisive scoff. 
“I was planning on doing that anyway, Sirius. Je suis vraiment désolé de te dire ça, Aurora, mais ton père est un idiot.”
Remus snorted. “Already teaching her important life lessons.”
“Get bent, Moony.” Sirius sneered.
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Text
SWEET POISON.
Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader
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Cregan Stark was a decent man, but your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. Yet you were ignoring him to keep the liaison between you a secret – much to your uncle's infuriation.
WORDS: 2.7 K
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle x niece), (semi) public sex, p in v, slight fingering, dacryphilia, slight petting, humiliating, degrading, choking, spitting, mean/dark/jealous/possessive!Aegon, female Reader (with Targaryen traits -> silver hair, lilac eyes)
NOTES: Written for @lovelykhaleesiii 🥰 You prefer the uncle x niece trope? Say no more! Thank you so much! 🤭
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The arrangement between you and Cregan Stark made more than sense to tie the North to your mother’s side of the family. Especially if Aegon should ever choose to assert his claim to the Iron Throne, despite not being appointed heir by your grandsire. 
It was a good plan, and nothing more than a political arrangement. 
You had met Cregan once before the King’s official announcement of your betrothal and the supper he hosted in honor of it, and while he was a decent man, your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. 
All evening you had to endure the cold stare of Aegon. And while his eyes usually were glued to you with a certain softness that caused you to get lost in them, they did nothing more than burn with fury at the end of the feast. 
But the announcement of your betrothal was not the trigger, you had informed Aegon beforehand a few nights ago. It was the way you clung to Cregan’s hand as he guided you to the dance floor. The way you smiled and laughed whenever the Stark made a joke. And if this didn’t fuel his jealousy, you not paying any attention to him at all certainly did. 
The whole night long.
It wasn’t that you were ashamed of the match made for you, but you were just too afraid to look at Aegon once you’d noticed your mistake, for your uncle was known to be quick to anger and slow to forgive. And you weren't sure if you were ready to face the dragon’s wrath. 
The liaison between you was a secret. You were sure your mother and stepfather would feed you to their dragons, if it were to become known to them that your uncle had broken your maidenhead the night you turned ten-and-nine. But the agreement of secrecy seemed to be long forgotten by said uncle, his jealousy clearly taking over. 
It was no surprise that, when you eventually exited the throne room as the feast was nearing its end, a shadow in the form of Aegon trailed behind you like a predator waiting for the right moment to seize its prey. 
And seizing you he did, once the hallways became more dimly lit and lonelier. 
There was an urgency in him when he not-so-gently fisted your hair to pull you back, shoving you into one of the keeps alcoves. He didn’t have to speak first, as there was no need for him to phrase what bothered him. You knew all too well what plagued his mind.  
“He–We–We are betrothed,” you whimpered, lips pulling into a pout while your head was firmly pressed against the stone wall of the alcove by Aegon’s hand around your throat, “do not be mad at me.”
Your heart was racing, pounding against the confines of your ribcage with Aegon’s large hand trailing over the bodice of your dress, fisting the skirts of it to lift it enough for his hand to snake underneath. “Are you really sulking now?” he growled, breath reeking of Arbor red as it fanned over your face. His thumb started to circle over the dampened spot in the center of your smallclothes, teasing your little bud. Your small hand reached for his wrist, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to claw his hand off your throat or if you used the grip to keep yourself grounded. 
The sound of pleasure that left your lips was the epitome of pathetic, and the volume of it had embarrassment coloring your cheeks and neck in a bright red. Your bottom lip trembled, and, despite the pleasurable sensations that rippled through your core at the ministrations of his thumb, you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. “Y-Yes!” you all but whined, though you tried your best to keep your voice low considering you were still kind of out in the open, barely shielded by the alcove. 
Aegon flashed you a lazy smirk when you focused your eyes from the bawdy tapestry hanging on the wall behind him, finally meeting his eyes. “Then quit the sulking before I give you something to sulk about, niece.” 
It was well-known that Aegon was not a proficient warrior, unlike his younger brother, yet this did not mean that he wasn’t strong. His grip on your throat was tight enough to lock you in place, rendering you immobile, and when he placed one thigh between yours, you knew all hope for you was lost.  
“Mayhaps I must drag you back to the Throne Room…,” he muttered, tilting his head to the side as he assessed you, watching your eyes grow wide with fear. “... bend you over the table to claim you in front of everyone. Mayhaps this will show my half-sister that you belong to me.” 
You tried to cower, lilac eyes flickering between the emeralds on his gold chain and his mocking expression. “Gods,” you breathed, the thought sending shivers down your spine, “p-please, no–” Your words were cut off by your own gasp when two of his thick digits pushed the linen of your smallclothes aside to scarcely drag through your soaked mound, barely using any of your arousal to slide inside without a warning.
But, as quick as his fingers had entered you, they withdrew again, resuming to rubbing your little bud.
“P-Please,” Aegon mocked with a dry chuckle, pushing his lips into a pout to mimic the one you had made before, “you are so pretty when you beg.” The backhanded compliment seemed to be enough to dull your inhibitions, allowing a warmth sensation to bubble in the pit of your stomach. “I know you like it, sweetling,” his head dips forward, looking you down with a sharp expression, “when I treat you like the common whore you are, taking right after your mother.” 
And just like that, the warmth vanished, bringing you back to the cold reality and the predicament you had found yourself in. Perhaps you should have seen it coming sooner, having witnessed all the oh so cruel jokes he had made at the expense of his own kin, his younger brother. But why did a part of you crave his cruelness so much? 
Your body was torn between feeling a hunger for him and being humiliated by him, the interplay of both leaving you utterly confused. When you turned your head to the side to escape his mocking stare, and hide the tears rolling down your cheeks, Aegon was quick to force you to meet his gaze again, his hand releasing your throat, so his fingers could not-so-gently dig into your cheeks. 
“You look at me when you cry,” he commanded, seemingly enjoying the power he held over you, compensating for something he lacked in his everyday life. “Those tears belong to me,” he said, gathering some of them with the pad of his thumb, “just like this sweet cunt of yours. You belong to me, not to that cunt of a Stark. Am I understood?”
When you didn’t answer, he spoke again, but not without spitting on your cheek first, feeding the shame and the humiliation you felt. 
“Am I understood?” 
Your face grew burning hot with the realization of what he had done, your mouth agape, but before he could spit on you for a second time, you were quick to manage a short whimper of ‘y-yes.’
His lilac eyes were dark blown, a perverted desire flickering in them, and letting you know you were right about the dragon’s wrath. He loomed over you like a vulture, and shielded your small frame from the few people passing the alcove on their way.
“You are so fortunate, little niece. Do you know what other ladies would do to be in your place, to be desired by the future King of the Seven Kingdoms? And how many other ladies would want to be you right now?” You couldn’t bring yourself to correct him, stating that your mother was proclaimed heir long before he was born, as you were too afraid to make your misery even worse. “Many noble lords would kill for their daughter to take your place,” he said, “you should thank me for only wanting you.”
You swallowed thickly, and your voice betrayed you. Instead of giving him the answer he desired, a pathetic moan slipped past your lips, only topped by your legs buckling beneath your weight at the impact of his words, of his possessiveness. His hand found your throat again, keeping you steady. 
“Lo iksā daor jāre naejot gaomagon skoros vestran, nyke kessa jurnegon syt iā riña bona kessa.” The High Valyrian slipped past his lips with so much ease, the shock on your face was evident. Never before had you heard him speak the tongue of your ancestors, not even knowing if he could speak it. But the smoothness of his voice, and the lack of accent, made it clear the lazy prince had been a dutiful scholar. “Āeksio Borros iksis gīmigon naejot emagon izula tali. Kostilus mēre hen zirȳ kessa gaomagon.” If you are not going to do what I say, I shall look for a lady that will. Lord Borros is known to have four daughters. Perhaps one of them will do. 
Even though no one would know he casted you aside for one of the Four Storms, you resented the thought and the shame it would bring you. “No,” you pleaded, more tears brimming in your eyes, causing your vision to grow blurry. “B–But please let us take this to your chambers,” you whined, “I am scared of someone seeing us.... me.” 
“Silence,” Aegon purred, his tone a stark contrast from the harsh one he had used prior. He bowed his head forwards to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, licking up the tears that had run down, before his lips pressed a kiss to your temple. “But in my apartments no one will know you are mine, sweetling.”
So lost in the softness of his voice and the warmth of his breath, you hardly registered him undoing the laces in his breeches, only just lowered enough for him to free his hard cock. Once that was done, he lifted one of your thighs to wrap it around his hip, which brought you close enough to his cock to feel it prodding against your cunt. 
“We–We can’t,” you tried to protest, wiggling out of his grasp. But Aegon was adamant, keeping his hand locked around your thigh as he solely relied on the hardness of his cock to breach your core instead of using his hand to guide it in. “Not here… please, uncle,” your voice was reduced to a whimper, and the despair audible. A thousand thoughts flashed before your eyes, the most prominent one being either your mother and stepfather, or even Cregan himself, finding you mid-act. 
“I decide where I take you,” he growled your name in a condescending manner, displaying his raw need to prove himself and show the dominance he held over you, “and if I wanted to fuck you in the small council chamber during a meeting, then so be it.”
You released a shuddered breath, and the memories of the delicious stretch his cock brought you clouded your mind to the point you couldn't intervene, only to be revived a split second later with him slowly but surely pushing in. Every ridge and vein of his cock dragged along your inner walls, not making the burning of the stretch any more pleasurable than the countless times he had had you before. 
He tilted your head back to expose your throat to him, allowing him to nibble your skin as he started to thrust his hips into yours. His teeth dragged along your throat over to the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he left any marks or not – even if he did, you didn’t care at this point. 
The snaps of his hips weren’t particularly fast or harsh, but deep and determined enough to make your breathing hiccup each time the tip of his cock brushed the sweet spot within you. When one thrust seemed a bit rougher than the others, you released a moan that was a tad too loud for your own liking, but alas, the man in front of you didn’t think so, and was quick to change his pace to coax even louder sounds of pleasure from you. 
“Be quiet,” the silver haired prince teased, yet he didn’t do anything to stifle or mitigate your moans, “we do not want to raise any more attention, do we?” The tone of his voice was so wicked, and you damn well knew that was exactly what he wanted. If anyone was to see you two, nothing would stand in his way to get you all for himself. Not Cregan Stark, and not even your stepfather himself, the Rogue Prince. 
It was far too easy for him to lose himself in you. Despite some people passing you two, exchanging hushed whispers or releasing disgusted gasps, he couldn’t stop entering you over and over as you bit back on every sound of bliss his thrusts issued forth from your lips. 
The hand that cupped your cheek was put behind your head to support it, and allow him to thrust harder into you, each thrust forcing you against the cold stone wall. Perhaps it was the possibility of being caught by your own kin, or being defiled by him so openly, but your peak approached you far too quickly, more so as he adjusted his hips and brought your other leg up around his waist to make his cock reach an angle that had you gasping, whining and clenching around him ever so tightly. 
“Go on,” he rasped, tilting his head forwards slightly to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear, harshly biting down on your earlobe once. “Be a good girl and wet my cock, niece.”
It seemed that all your encounters before had taught your uncle one valuable lesson, because, when you eventually did what he said and your peak crashed over you with soaring pleasure, he moved his hand to clasp it over your mouth to stifle all the moans and whines that escaped your throat. You were loud when peaking, and perhaps that was even too loud for the corrupted prince. 
“That’s it,” he purred, “making a mess all over my cock. Just how I like it.”
With a grunt, he reached between your bodies to rub your little bud, prolonging your high and intensifying the feeling of your body erupting in flames as your arousal dripped down his twitching cock. 
Your cunt squeezed Aegon tight enough for him to reach his peak with one final thrust, and, when his cock spent itself deep inside of your trembling walls, his hips stilled. It surprised you he didn’t pull out right after, staying nestled inside of you just a few moments longer until his breathing settled back to normal. 
Your senses came back slowly, until it didn’t feel like a haze anymore, and made you terribly aware of what had happened. His hands ran over your arse before he lowered you back on the ground, a smug smirk gracing his features. 
“Do you know that once I am king, I shall fly North to claim what is mine. You. And I do not care if I must burn down Winterfell or feed that Northerner to Sunfyre. I will come and I will take you.” The determination with which he said it rendered you speechless, as it was far from the Aegon you got to know growing up, and you feared for what the future might hold. 
That night in your chambers, when you had changed into a black shift, you stood in front of the mirror and watched your reflection. Upon looking more closely at your neck, you spotted a purplish bruise right at your throat, and it appeared that mayhaps your uncle’s wish might be fulfilled sooner than anticipated when you had to face your mother in the morrow to break your fast.
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