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hoshigray · 4 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐙 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Everyone knows you are Toji's favorite stripper. So, it's no surprise that he'd want to have you to himself for a night at the V.I.P. section, not that you're complaining.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x stripper fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - sex at a public place; strip club V.I.P. room - kissing/making out - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking + heavy depiction of a blowjob - slight anal fingering (f! receiving) - orgasm denial - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - sir kink - reverse oral + backshots positions - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pet names (angel, baby, good girl, mama, sweetheart, sweetie) - cameos: Miguel, Mei Mei and Ino (stripper, manager and DJ) - mentions of spit/saliva.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yesssss, finally, a piece for toji !! this was based on a request/scenario that had me thinking about this prompt a lot afterward, so I'm glad I got the time to go more into the story with this c: enjoyyyy !!

“Toji! Back here like you said?”

“Yup, just as promised. It’s Saturday, after all.”

“Mmm, I see. Right this way, please; Lady Mei is waiting for you right there..”

Tonight is Saturday night, the middle of the weekend. How Toji spends his weekends comes and goes, depending on how much cash his pockets are willing to withdraw. Luckily, his stacks are ready for whatever this night has in store for him. And since he’s walking down in a strip club right now, you can guess he’s prepared for something grand.

Saturdays tend to be one of the busiest nights – if not Fridays. The vibrating bass from the speakers could be felt in his bones, music getting people bumping and grinding by the DJ booth. Crowds swarm the bar to grab their drinks – and perhaps flirt with the bartender – as the special menus catch their eyes. And, of course, the wolf whistles and exclaimed shouts of men and women fill the open area where the dancers give the clients a night of promised fun.

Toji’s guided by one of the male strippers to the back of the club that transitions to the upstairs. By the stairwell, he sees a woman with silverish, pale-blue braided hair, wearing a white cold-shoulder blouse and a long black pencil skirt that emphasizes her hips nicely. Lilac eyes flicker in his direction, and her red lips curl into a smile.

“Thank you, Miguel.” Mei Mei greets and dismisses the male entertainer in the same breath, watching him bow and return to his business, leaving the woman with Toji. “Well, well, well. I’m sure you’ve been waiting for this moment all day.”

“Ever since ya called me this morning, Lady Mei.” The older man refers to her by her business name with a smirk and a tilt of his head. “So, they’re on board?”

She nods. “That would be the reason I gave you the call, no? The money you brought goes straight to them after this, and they said there’s no need to tip them extra.”

He snickers. “That I can’t promise; I always gotta tip my favorite girl for their service. They treat me right, and I do the same.”

“Good service means good tips, Mr. Fushiguro. Please, follow me; they’re waiting for you.”

As far as clubs go, this one was undoubtedly one of Toji’s spots to come to. Here, he can trust that he can have a good time and get his money’s worth with every visit. Good drinks from the bar from that Nanami guy; that rookie DJ, Ino, who likes to humor the older man whenever he’s off his set; and all the entertainers who know of Toji from his frequent visits, all good people that ensure he’s relaxed and welcomed, whether it be service from them or chit-chat on the side between sessions.

But let’s not beat around the bush here; Toji won’t lie and say he doesn’t have favorites — or else why would he be here? There had to be a reason this bulky man comes back for more, and having him known as a loyal customer by the staff of this place and their clients.

The reason is that out of all the people here, Toji does have a favorite. This favored person is who’s making this man willingly follow the manager up the stairs and walk through the hallway. Only those worth his respect and time could have him do that.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been up here, so let me re-specify,” Mei Mei speaks, ignoring the faint howls of men and women from behind the doors they walk past. “This is V.I.P., meaning people pay extra just to have the room to themselves and my dancers. The rules downstairs apply upstairs…Well, except for today with—“

“Me and them, right?” See? He's listening.

Mei Mei hums. “You two are scheduled for two hours. Food and drinks can be brought up here, but absolutely no messes whatsoever. I don’t care what you two do in there — all I ask is that you two clean up after yourselves.” She stops at the last door of the hallway on the right. “And as for you, since no one is up here to get in the way of you two, no breaking stuff. You break it, you pay for it.” She pauses when he nods.

“I won’t.” Forest green eyes stay on her as a dark brow rises.

“Especially on my girl tonight.” Lavender orbs narrow faintly. “I don’t want to see so much as a scratch on them. Otherwise, your account won’t be the only thing I’ll have dropped in the negatives. Am I clear?”

“Crystal. Not doin’ anything they don’t wanna do.”

A curt nod to his response, extending her hand out to him. “Their cash?”

Without hesitation, Toji slings the bag he carried on his shoulder to hand to the manager. She holds and unzips it to check the contents, and the smile on her face gets bigger before she peers back at him.

“Enjoy yourself, Mr. Fushiguro,” she zips the bag and excuses herself before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be too rough.” Toji eyes at her slender fingers sliding away, and the clack of her heels drew further and further away, clicking on the stairs to join the lively bunch down below.

Toji’s eyes examine the door before him but can’t seem to fight the sneer molding into his face. He cracks his knuckle and neck before taking a moment to himself for a deep breath. There’s something in this room that ignites his excitement before it can skyrocket, and it gets a little difficult to contain it once he turns the doorknob.

The V.I.P. rooms are all set up the same: to his right was a single booth seat from one side of the room to the other, a circle table centered by the furniture. The ceiling lights can be dimmed or dialed up, but the ones here were dimmed to a warm glow, which was pleasing and subtly set the mood with the soft white LED lights behind the booth. And the temperature felt just right, prompting the older man to remove his jacket.

Although he appreciates the change of atmosphere, Toji doesn’t mind what mood the room is set in — because he didn’t come here for that. He came for whatever caught his attention the moment he walked in. The smirk on his face brought the scar on the right side of his lips upright.

To his right stood a mini stage where a silver pole comes from the center to the top of the ceiling; the light from the mounted full-length mirror on the wall casts a silhouette of something slinging around the pole. Or better yet, on someone. Alas, the person he’s longed to see this entire night is before him. Y/n, Toji’s favorite stripper, was in his sights.

You maneuver around the pole and drift your limbs through the air. Elegant motions perceived by Toji alone, daring not to say anything until you noticed him. And when you do, your eyes lock in on him, and your lips twinge into a smile. Fate was sealed, and the evening for you two had finally begun.

“Toji,” he loved how you said his name. You skillfully transition from a recliner move to a pole sit. “You made it; worried you’d have cold feet on me.”

“And miss seeing you tonight?” He strides in your direction before throwing his jacket to the booth seat, his feet stopping at the steps of your stage. He takes this chance to observe what you picked to wear tonight, elated knowing that you chose one of his favorite looks. “Not a chance.”

Your makeup was the first thing that caught his eye; pink and blue eyeshadow blended perfectly well and compliment your skin, aided with glossy lipstick that entices him. There were rhinestones added at the corner and lids of your eyes, making them shine more with the lighting. Since it’s just the two of you tonight, you opted to show more skin than usual. You wore a white, long-sleeved mesh shirt that had your chest area open, exposing the black laced bra that hugged your breasts nicely. White fishnet pantyhose that comes to your upper thigh, gartered to your lacy, black underwear. And to complete the look, transparent ultra-high heels. You were dolled up — just for him.

Your smile broadens — the brightest thing in the room to him. “That’s so sweet. Please take a seat and let me warm things up, okay?” And you continue back with your routine, swinging on the pole in the ballerina move. Your movements were effortlessly beautiful. Captivating to watch you operate your body around the item and your hand gracefully float around the air as you swing.

But then you come to a stop, finding that Toji is now on the stage and taking your hand in his. Emerald eyes instantly capture yours as his fingers intertwine with yours.

“No need to warm up,” he says in a low tone, as if the music around the room wasn’t already lowered enough for you two to speak normally. His face inches closer to yours, and your breathing becomes slow. “I’ve been waitin’ for this all night.”

His abrupt change was kind of shocking as he’s never one to switch up your procedure. But you don’t take it to heart because you understand, offering him a small smile before your eyes drift to his lips coming to yours. “Impatient much, huh?”

“That’s what happens when ya spoil me all the time,” he jests before a hand comes to your cheek, bringing his lips to yours for an awaited kiss.

You two kiss with slow pecks, waiting for someone to make the first move. And Toji’s the one to do it, licking your bottom lip and playfully nibbling it. You titter faintly, opening your mouth to permit him to insert his tongue inside and play with yours. And you moan to him when he sucks and teases yours with his teeth.

Toji’s hand on your cheek goes to the back of your neck, wanting to keep the kiss in contact. And you follow suit, carefully placing your hands on his shoulders one by one from the pole. To hope you don’t fall, his other hand comes to your back for assistance. Yet your legs are still tightly wrapped around the metal pole.

He breaks the kiss to see for himself, chortling at the display. And you beam at him, using your finger to drag his raven bangs along his forehead. “Spoiling you, huh?” You inquire, kissing his nose. “With how this night is set up, we’ll have to see who’s treating who.”

He liked the sound of that. “Two hours to make it count, then.”

You wink. “Two hours.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“—Mmph…! Hoohh, fuck, that tongue…keep swirlin’ like that…”

“Nnmm…enjoying yourself there?”

“Heh, keep teasing’ me like that, and we’ll see what happens, Y/n…Hmmm…”

Toji sits on the booth seat with his denim-clad legs spread out for you to crouch in between. Your hand snakes inside his shirt; the dent of his abs is sensed by your fingertips. And the free one is gliding up and down the exposed erection that’s out for your very eyes to see.

Oh, fuck, this was a sight to see: crouching in front of your favorite client, having his cock in your very grasp. The limb is so big and girthy that it drives you crazy just marveling at it, and the twitch of your chasm below refuses to calm down. Every slow pump urges a bit of precum to slip out the urethra, and you gasp faintly at the contact of the substance staining your pretty nails. Shit, from his veins to the delicious tip, it’s been so long since you’ve seen a dick this oddly gorgeous.

Hell, it’s been a long while since you’ve given head. And, holy fuck, it felt too good doing it right now — especially with a dick as mouthwatering as Toji’s. You started with slow licks to the cockhead and kisses to the frenulum, evoking hushed grunts from the older man; sounds you love entering your eardrums, pushing you to want more. Slow laps gradually lose to adventurous curiosity as you take in every inch of his length til the hilt meets your lips, humming at the sensation of him filling your throat.

You suck on his shaft with glee, swirling your tongue on the underside with every bob to the mouth. And your hand still moves to please him, your fingers eventually finding his balls to give them a knead. A hiss leaves scarred lips, and he grabs for the top of your head. Oh, he’s definitely loving this.

“Hshhh, shiiit, just like that, baby,” the pet name makes you mewl; he said it so hot. “Fuuuck, y’re so good.”

“Mmmm…Phuaa!” You release his girth from your lips, attacking the sensitive head with teasing licks, rubbing the limb on your face while placing chaste kisses. God, he loved how beautifully dirty you were being. “Hnnmm, yo’ thwink so…?”

Talking with your mouth full results in a laugh from Toji. “Fuck yeah; barely hangin’ on right now…Oh shit,” he shouldn’t have said that because you kiss his shaft down to his balls, sucking one into your mouth to have the man almost choke on his spit. “Hmng…!! Oh, shit, shit, I’m gonna cum, mama. Take me back in, Y/n—Ahhh!”

No can do! Because you immediately remove yourself from him, standing on your toes and walking backward. Observing the genuine staggered expression on Toji has you giggling, making him sneer in return. “You fuckin’ tease.”

“Come on now; you gotta do your part as well, you know.” You turn to crawl atop the stage, your hands on the pole while swaying your ass to the side. You know he’s watching, feeling his green eyes boring holes into your being. Knowing you’re being desired like this turns you on even more.

Toji wastes no time, marching towards your ass with a hungry grin. Rough fingers come to your underwear, bringing it down with ease, biting his lip at the wet display of your cunt. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty thing, huh.”

You titter, shivers crawling up your spine when his thumbs spread your folds to expose your bare vagina. You grab hold of the pole for preparation. “Please be delicate with me.”

He blows on your cunt, and you take a sharp breath. “After that lil’ stunt of y’rs a few seconds ago? You better hold on to that thing tight.” Toji gives your wetness a tantalizingly slow lick, taking in every shudder of your body. “Hnnm, taste good…”

His hands find your waist and then stuffs his face to your ass, his lips and tongue going to work and sucking in your liquids. You cry out, gripping the pole as soon as you feel a flick to your clit. Your eyes instinctively shut, and your arch elates to bring your butt closer to him.

Toji’s strong hold on you aids him in making sure you don’t get away from him; your soapy slit is right where he wants it, and he doesn’t plan on letting go. His tongue hurries through your labia, and your essence coats his tastebuds. You moan out loud at the feeling of the muscle pushing to the entrance, your hips jerking with his nose bumping close to your taint.

“Ahaaa, ohh Jesus, yesss,” your words come out in pretty wails. “Yess, Toji, ‘eel so good…”

He hears and gives you another taunting lick from your clit to the vagina. This time, he notes your ass jolt when he comes close to your asshole. And he can’t fight his mischievous soul, bringing his tongue ever so slowly to it for you to gasp and realize what he’s doing.

“W–Wait, no, Tojiii!” You whine. Fuck, you sounded so cute. “Not there, please…!”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” He brings a thumb to lather it with spit before pressing it to your anus. The choked sob erupting from you has him tingle, pushing the digit further in. “Don’t want me playin’ with this?”

“—Hnnff! Noooo, stop, that’s—Mmmm!” Goddamn, how could someone look so good while whining like this? Oh, he could never get enough of you before. Now, this little infatuation for you could dwell into an obsession if you keep batting your hooded eyes at him like that. “That's dirty…!”

He shakes his head with a prurient leer and trenched brows. “Don’t worry, angel; I like dirty.” You gulped. That’s not what I meant! “Be dirty fr’ me, ‘kay? Wanna see it all...” Toji brings his face back to your southern lips, sucking and licking in an excitable fashion that has you trying so hard not to scream (even if the walls are supposedly soundproof).

It’s here that you give up and have your face meet the floor of the stage, sinking into the feeling of Toji ravishing your cunt to feast on your come entirely. You can shake and try to move your hips all you want, but it won’t work; Toji will instantly shut you down and shove his mouth right back to your folds. And with his thumb scraping the walls of your tight asshole, chewing your lips does nothing to suppress the haze.

“Hohhh, hnmm, oh my God, Ohhh…!” A hand finds its way to Toji’s wrist, holding onto it to prepare for what’s bound to happen. “Haaah, I’m about to cum…Please, like that, keep going…Oooo!!”

Nope. He doesn’t let you off the hook, withdrawing his face and thumb away from you, and the climb of your promised orgasm dissipates in seconds. You turn to him with an albeit hurt expression, expectedly being met with a smug look on his handsome face. “Hahhh, so mean…”

“Oh, I know y’re not talking, sweetheart.” Toji removes and discards your underwear somewhere across the room, giving your bare ass a playful smack to which you faux cry in pain with laughs. He then picks you up bridal style and walks you back to the couch, your face gently placed on the furniture with your buttocks up in front of him. He brings the tip of his cock to kiss your labia. “Ya ready?” You nod to him hurriedly with bitten lips of glee. All he wants to do is grab you by the chin and kiss the hell out of you. “Nice and slow fr’ ya, sweetie.”

Your breath hitches at Toji’s glans being pushed into you, using your slick and his saliva to lubricate himself for easy access. Your hands grip the booth seat with every push of him, and you gasp loudly at the insertion of his tip. The subtle pain declined in mere seconds before being raptured by the sensation of his girth stretching you. Your body quakes by the time his pelvis meets the flesh of your ass, unable to contain the pants of air leaving your lips.

Toji moves his hips tremendously slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Holy shit, it’s been a while having a living, breathing dick inside you. The indistinct dents grazing your entrance with every push and pull, the veins scraping along your inner walls ever feels so fucking good, and his tip jabbing so deep inside you. Jesus Christ, you can’t blame your slit clamping onto him; he feels so good!

“Hmm? Ya like that, baby?”And Toji can tell, grinding his hips, stimulating a shaky howl. “Y’re grippin’ on me like crazy.”

“Ahhaaa, fuhuuuck, you feel so good, Toji,” you hum, gnawing on your lips as his pace goes faster by the second. Yes, yes! “Ohhhh, ’m so full…!”

He comes down to lick on the helix of your ear. His voice being so close to you has you clamping onto him harder. “Fuuck, that grip…Just stay like this fr’ me, all nice and pretty. Can ya do that?”

“Yesss, sir.”

Oh, that title sparked something within him. The snicker to your ear had you swooned. “Keep callin’ me that.”

You giggle softly. “Of course, sir—Rrryahhh!!” He didn’t warn you when he started bucking his hips unexpectedly.

Strokes to your cunt became quick, the sensation of him becoming rushed for your senses to comprehend after each thrust. The sounds of skin smacking against each other fill the space between you, and the heat transferring from your warm bodies is given in quick exchanges.

It doesn’t take long for your head to be thrown into a daze, your eyes shot up to the stars with every jab to your sensitive spots. Restraint is held by a thread, finding it strenuous to keep your voice down to a respectable volume. Your fingernails leave crescents on the booth seat beneath you as Toji drives his length into you.

“—Ohhh! Fuuuu, oh shit, Tojiii, slow d—Owwhhn!!” He slaps your ass, an action you couldn’t foretell, and prevent a shriek from leaving your mouth.

“Not ‘Toji’ right now,” he corrects you, grinding his pelvis again to scrape your walls to the point of wails. Gripping your ass like a toy, “What do you call me?”

“Mmmph!! I’m sorry, sir; forgive me…!” Another smack and the pain stings the skin to the point your eyes water.

“Good girl,” he’s satisfied, coming down to place kisses on your shoulder and travel down your back.

Toji straightens at the sight before him, taking in every detail of the situation. Having his favorite stripper be a whimpering mess for him: your mouth agape for cute sounds to fly out, the motion of your ass cheeks bouncing with every rut of him, and his dick digging into your alluring body. Fuck, if only he could take a picture of this. But thankfully, he still has another hour and a half to go — an hour and a half to indulge himself more with you. He paid good money for this, so he’ll make it worth every cent.

“Hey, mama,” he comes down to cup your face with his right hand, bringing you in for a hot kiss. You happily reciprocate, allowing him access and sucking his tongue with a mewl.

The kiss has him drink your high-pitched huffs while his tempo increases to an irregular speed. Your eyes screwed shut at the pacing; the feeling of his girth filling you so much is fucking crazy. Your head begins to pound with the heat that spreads across your face, and your brain gradually churns to mush as you can sense the climb of your climax.

“—Shhhiiit, oh shiit!!” You pule with the trembles crawling up to your shoulders, a tiny streak of drool coming down from the corner of your lips. “F–Fhhh, I’m gonna cum, sir! Please, let me cummm…!”

“Hhhck!! Fuck, me too,” he confesses in between kisses. “Lemme finish here...” Toji sneaks a hand down to your lower region, his forefinger grazing your clitoris that was left unattended throughout this time. Until now. “Cum on me, angel. Let loose…”

The rough pads of his fingers swipe on your clit; your eyes widen at the action and force you to break the kiss. Your moans come out from his swipes and pinches on your delicate bud, and the growth of your orgasm ascends tenfold. Oh fuck, it’s coming, I’m— “Ohh–Ohoooo!!”

And then it hits you; the walls of your cunt clamp around Toji tightly, making the older man groan at the fluttering contraction. So engulfed with how good you feel that it prompts him to spill his load into you. But he doesn’t stop jerking his hips, smacking his cock into your sensitive chasm until he knows every drop of his ejaculation is pumped deep inside you.

Toji brings his body down to your heaving one, your breathing synced with his as you two let your pleasurable highs subside. When things feel as though they’ve calmed down, he’ll bury his face in the crook of your neck and place kisses while rubbing your ass. You hum to his touch, deep exhales seeping through your nostrils.

“Mmmm, that was good,” he says to your skin before lifting his face to examine you properly, removing his length from your cunt and watching the trail of his come ooze out. “Heh, fuck that’s crazy…Ready for another round, sweetheart?”

Of course, you laugh at that. “Well, sir, if you’d like to go again, please be sure to use the condoms this time. I wouldn’t like Mei Mei to come here and murder us for not cleaning after ourselves.”

He lifts a brow. “Condoms?”

You point with your chin to the table at the booth center, noting the silver tray that displayed items for this occasion. Towels, water bottles, and, of course, packets of rubbers that were meant to be used.

Toji blinks, and then a fit of laughter bubbles inside him. “Well, now I know. But I don’t see the point since I already fucked you raw. Already spoiled the fun for ya.”

You shrug with a smile, standing up to grab the towel to wipe yourself. “Boss’ orders.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he obliges with a kiss on your cheek before he shifts to lie on the couch. He discards his jeans and drawls, spreading his strong legs to showcase his member standing strong. He pats on his thigh, “Get y’r cute ass over here.”

You beam at him, grabbing for a wrapper and tearing it up to release a condom. “Yes, sir~.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“And so? You two cleaned up everything?”

“Yup, made sure it was all clean and neat the way it was before.”

“Good. Because I had a meeting in that room this morning, and neither my client nor I would like to have the smell of sex fill our conversation. Or seeing a condom wrapper on the floor.”

“Hehe, well, I hoped you checked under the seats. He’d probably be sneaky enough to kick at least one down there.”

“Oh, you’re such a little…” Your manager doesn’t finish that sentence and hits you on the head with a makeup brush, resulting in a strong laugh from you.

Tonight was the following night after that event. You’re now in the dressing room, adding finishing touches to your make-up before you can go out to perform for the last day of the weekend. Mei Mei was with you, helping you fix yourself since she likes to help her performers feel at the top of their game. Also, as your friend, she wanted to hear the details of what transpired last night.

“That man, I swear…” She says while looking at you through the vanity mirror, surveying your last touches to your brows and eyelids. “I knew he was whipped for you since the first time you danced for him. Now that you two finally did the deed, I can only imagine how much he’d do for you…Ugh, I’ll need to hire security specifically for him.”

The remark has you laughing some more. “Oh, stop it. I’m sure he knows better than to flip this place down.”

“Hmmm, you sure about that?” Silver brows go upward. “Considering the fact that we’ve had multiple close calls with him and other customers, scaring your clients when they’re not out of his seat – not to mention breaking someone’s arm for you – it’s not far out to imagine this man throwing shit and bodies all over if someone so much looks at you, especially now that he got his dick wet. Oh, he’s smitten.”

You shake your head throughout her explanation with a smile, knowing that it’s all semi-true. “Guess that’s men for you, huh?”

“Don’t I know it.” She scoffs, using this small time with you to braid her hair into two pigtails. “…You do like him, right?”

The question doesn’t take you aback, not showing any expression of shock while continuing to fix the straps of your pink bra under your mesh shirt. “Yeah…I think so. He’s one of my—“

“One of?”

You roll your eyes at your manager egging you on. “Okay. He is my favorite client. I think he’s a good company; plus, he pays a good amount of money to see me.”

“Oh? Was it the money that’s always made your heart thump? I wonder…” Mei Mei doesn’t try to suppress the smirk growing on her face, aware that you’re meekly glaring at her. She grabs for your lipstick to apply to her lips. “Maybe it never was because I can recall you telling me how hot you found you the first time. Hmph, maybe now that’s dialed up since you’ve been slapped with some good dick—“

“Okay, okay!” God, you couldn’t stand her sinister chuckle, precisely when it’s directed towards you.

“I’m just teasing~. I’m happy that you two are getting along, really.” She straightens up to examine her whole figure now that she’s done. “But he’s still one of my customers at the end of the day, and you one of my people. Money on the table or not, I won’t tolerate if he does anything to inconvenience me or you.”

The sincerity in Mei Mei’s words wasn’t hard to grasp. After all, she was doing what any good boss would do. As well as your friend above anything else. And you appreciated it. “I know. You’ll be the first I run to if stuff goes left.”

The silver-haired woman gave a genuine smile and nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder to clutch before excusing herself from the dressing room. “See you out there; I have another meeting with a priest from the other side of the neighborhood.”

You gawk. “A priest? Is he here to be serviced?”

“Nope, but if he keeps getting in the way of my business, I just might have to make some phone calls and endow my other services to deal with him.” Your blood shifted to ice cold at that sentence. Mei Mei is your friend by all means; however, that didn’t diminish how scary that woman can be sometimes.

She opens the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone to finish up. You stand up from your seat and maneuver around to admire tonight’s outfit choice. A mesh shirt that showcased your pink bra and black pantyhose that contrasted with your pink undies. Now, all you need to do is go to your locker and find whatever shoes to match and—

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Yo, Y/n?” It was Ino’s voice. He doesn’t come inside the room but creaks the door for you to hear him. “Sorry, but someone wishes to speak with you.”

Huh, someone wants to see me? “Oh, okay. Tell them to wait for me by the door.”

“Sure thing!” And then the young DJ closes the door, and you decide the shoes can wait for later. Giving yourself a look or two in the mirror, you walk up to the door and pull it open to see who wishes to see you. Only to find that the person is standing in front of the doorway.

It was Toji, standing tall and greets you with a smirk once you entered his vision. The mild anxiousness from a few seconds was gone, exchanging it for a smile. “Hey,” he said it cooly.

“Hi,” you return the greeting, watching him step closer to you to lean against the doorframe. “You just got here?”

“Mhmm, didn’t have much to do, so I figured I’d come before things are about to pick up.” Toji brings his face to yours, daring to give your lips a peck. And you allow it, kissing his scar when he draws back. “I thought last night was fun.”

“Me too,” you whisper back to him before he kisses your neck. “I’d like to have fun like that with you sometime. You know, not during business hours and such.”

He quirks up a brow. “Yeah? Hmm, me too.” He puts his forehead to yours, his hands snaking around your waist to bring you two together. “I’d love to have you around somewhere.”

You hum, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. “That’d be nice.”

“…But I’d also love to fuck the hell outta you like last time.” His honesty has you erupting in laughter, and your sweet voice has him grinning. “I’m serious; you drove me crazy last time. Pussy like that can’t be shared, I’m sorry—”

“Oh, my God, stop!” You try to get out of his hold, even if your laughs get louder when he tightens his grip on you. “Drove you crazy, huh?” You peer to see him nod before kissing his chin. “Well, I got a few minutes before I go out there…Want me to suck you off?”

Did you even have to ask? The man immediately leers from ear to ear, taking your wrist and pulling you back into the dressing room. And you allow him with a laugh, making sure to lock the door before the thought of getting caught fills your mind.

“Good thing you caught me dressing,” you say as he sits on the couch from across the dressing room, and you crouch between his legs. You pull down his zipper, “This one’s free of charge.”

And he shifts comfortably, taking off his jacket to discard. “Lucky me.”

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euphoricimagination · 6 months

Text

𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵

Feat. Nekoma & Inarizaki -> Part 2 [Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani]

Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her

Nekoma

You arrived later than you expected, just on time for the club, So you didn’t get to see your dear team until much later

When you enter the gym, you see a…strange view

No one in the team was happy

Yaku and Kai didn’t have any expressions on them, Lev was pouting aggressively, Fukunaga had a frown, Yamamoto was mumbling words and Kenma was nowhere to be seen.

The girl that was supposed to replace you for the week was walking besides a very annoyed Kuroo, who was pushing the cart with the balls

Weird, considering that doing that was the basics for being a manager

They were so out of it that none notice the sound of your shoes, weird considering how attentive they are

“Ah Kuroo senpai, thank God you helped me! I’m so small and weak that I wasn’t able to push it over” you heard her say, making you cringe at the sentence

“Yeah, whatever” said a disinteresting Kuroo

And that’s when you confirm that something was really wrong, Kuroo was never this dismissive

“What’s happening? Everything ok?” you asked making Kuroo turn around with a relief smile on

“Oh hi, Kuroo senpai was just helping me since you know, I’m so small and weak” says fluttering her eyes at him

“It’s just pushing the cart. It has wheels on it…” You gave a disbelief look to Kuroo, who just rolls his eyes “it’s not that hard”

“Maybe for someone as big as you it wouldn’t be so difficult!”

That was it for Kuroo, who quickly move to your side giving you a hug

“Well, guess you can leave now that our manager is back. Bye”

"Kuroo-senpai!! Stooop! I can stay here too!” says stomping her feet

The whole commotion cause everyone to look at you, and you swear you heard a collective sigh full of relief

Quickly enough you felt a bunch of arms around you, a bunch of head pats and a ton of screams of your name

Which quickly was interrupted by a loud scream by the girl “KYANMA!!”

You look at the stairs where Kenma was standing shaking slightly with big eyes. The girl tried to get close to him, yelling “They are being mean, Kyanma!” but he just runs away towards you

Yes. Run. He hated her, she was so loud and desperate, Kenma literally couldn’t stand her.

“You’re back” says Kenma hiding behind you, showing more happiness that you ever have seen from him

So happy that he went to hug you tightly, he really missed you

“Anyways, now that our team is finally complete you can leave. Please go out” says Kuroo

“Agh! Fine! I’m way too good for you anyways!”

She sends you a look full of venom, but you didn’t really notice it

After all, you had a clingy Kenma hugging you tightly and the rest of the team waiting for one

Inarizaki

After your small break reached an end you finally were ready to go back to your boys

They were having a small hangout in the Miya household

They tried to be sneaky about it, not wanting to invite the girl that was replacing you

But sadly for them, she somehow knew and crash into them before you could arrive

She’s the first person you see when you enter their house with the spare key they gave you

“Who are you?” she asks with her eyebrow raising

“Ehh…I’m Yn, their manager. You helped them while i was out?” You ask back, confused at her sudden presence

“Yes…I actually think I should be the new manager! After all I play like 17 sports and definitely know more than you about sports. What do you think this is? Cheer? Not like it’s a sport, but whatever” she says with a overconfident smirk

In the meantime the guys that were already in the house starting to appear into the hall, confused at how loud her voice was being

“Anyways! Why don’t you leave? A girl like you probably doesn’t even know a thing about sports! We’re gonna play videogames while you probably just want to paint your nails or whatever!”

“Who says you’re staying?” Atsumu says, frowning

“Ha Ha, you’re so funny Atsumu! Of course I’m staying” she says nervous

“No, you’re not” Osamu adds

“I’m sure we can all hang out tog-” you try to say

“You shut it! I bet you don’t know anything about the sport!” She says to you despite you trying to help her

“Really? You barely even know what we play, you just join because you wanted to see hot guys” a voice behind you says, Suna entering the house as he passes his arm through your shoulders

The girl immediately went pale, stammering the next sentence “well…well, I mean, of course I know!”

“Sure, that's why you asked 'if we knew' the rules of basketball yesterday. Just leave, nobody wants you here anyway”

She scoffs annoyed, looking at the rest of the team as if asking for help, which she doesn’t receive. She scoffs one more time, walking towards the door and leaving as she shoots a glare towards you

“You guys are so mean” you say, receiving a chuckle

“She deserved it, if anything she just hinder our practice” Osamu adds

“Besides, nobody talks about our beautiful manager like that” Atsumu hugs you along side Suna

The rest of the team also comes to hug you, and while they were a bit rude, you knew that they only had good intentions

You love this foxes too much

----

Note: a little something about my boys, also, I cringed way too much while writing this

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mirkoluvs · 9 months

Text

★ SUPER SHY

sanji (opla) x fem reader

genre: angst to comfort !!

notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!

you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.

“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.

“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.

finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?

“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.

you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.

is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?

before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.

“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.

the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.

after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.

“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.

soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.

“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.

“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.

once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.

your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .

“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.

“one fresh plate coming up!”

#one piece #one piece x reader #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece netflix #opla sanji #op #one piece comfort #one piece angst #sanji comfort #sanji angst #sanjionepiece #sanji #sanji live action #one piece live action #opla

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tropes-and-tales · 6 months

Text

Dyin' for a Taste

Day 11: Face Sitting (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Idiots in love; pining; smut (oral, f!receiving); 18+ only.

Word Count: 4096

AN: This was requested by an anonymous person!

AN2: When I say this is not edited, please know it is NOT EDITED. Full of typos and sloppy typing. Tropes is a fat-fingered old crone.

It starts with a joke.

The 141 is on a covert ops in the mountains. It’s cold—the sort of cold that burns, that makes the bones ache. You’re posted up in a perch, your sniper’s rifle at the ready if shit goes south. The rest of the team is in the square below, waiting for the drop.

“My bollacks are gonna freeze off,” Soap complains over the comms, and you snort at the whining tone in his soft Scottish brogue.

“Shoulda dressed for the weather,” you reply. “Ghost probably has a spare balaclava.”

“And cover this handsome face?”

“Won’t be so handsome when your nose turns black from frostbite.”

You hear the tsch noise he makes over the comms, the very Soap, very Scottish noise of dismissal.

“You’ll have to sit on my face then, hen, and warm me back up,” he says.

You’re rarely stunned into silence—you and the guys are always making off-color jokes—but when you open your mouth to reply, you only gape wordlessly. The silence over the comms grows, expands, until Gaz—fucking Gaz—chimes in.

“I think she’s into the idea, bruv.”

And you can’t respond to that fast enough either, which leaves another long beat of silence over the comms, which likely seems like enough of an answer.

-----

The mission goes smoothly. The team splits up as planned to avoid drawing attention. You don’t see Soap again until a few days later when you regroup at HQ.

You think, perhaps, that he’s forgotten. Maybe that’d be better. You and Soap get along well, and sometimes he flirts with you, but he flirts with everyone. It means nothing.

And yet…

And yet, it’s Soap. You might be able to lie to others, but you can’t lie to yourself: you’ve spent many a lonely night with your thoughts drifting to him. Turning him over and over in your mind.

Soap MacTavish. Handsome, almost unbearably so. He could be a cocky asshole, be the sort of man who knows he’s hot and be insufferable about it, but he’s gregarious. Friendly. He’s a happy-go-lucky sort of man—or as much as someone in the One-Four-One can be.

-----

“Been avoiding me.”

It’s a statement, not a question. Soap corners you in the mess hall, his blue eyes peering at you without guile. He looks almost concerned.

“I haven’t,” you reply. You try to shift past him, but he puts a hand out against the doorway, bars you with his arm.

“You have.” He peers at you closer, his blue eyes somber. “What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?”

You thought, perhaps, that he’d forgotten…but those somber eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, then smooth out as he schools his expression.

“Maybe you think my offer was wrong,” he says.

“I never said that.” You duck under his arm, but he lays his hand on your shoulder and stills you again.

“You’ve never said anything about it.” You don’t look at him, but you hear his gentle snort of laughter. “Your silence is deafening.”

You feel your face start to heat up because he’s not wrong. Too much time has passed now to address that moment in the mountains. You should have said something then, spat out some rejoinder to signal that it meant nothing to you, that it was just another dumb joke between you and Soap. But something about that dumb joke conjures up the mental image of you and Soap, and your face burns in embarrassment.

So you duck from his light grip on your shoulder and it makes him laugh again, then call out to your retreating form, “the offer still stands, hen.”

-----

A month passes, then another. You get leave for a few weeks and go someplace warm, a beach with golden sand and soft breezes where you can relax and forget the horrors of what you see every day.

Then you’re back on base, then another mission. Over and over, the same routine.

Through it all: Soap MacTavish, the team’s Golden Retriever. Always with an easy grin on his handsome face, a laugh, a joke. He teases Ghost, he does a passable impression of Captain Price. He gives Gaz a hard time about their rival rugby teams, but it’s always good-natured.

He jokes with you, but that joke—the one about sitting on his face—becomes just a joke between the two of you. You don’t know if the other men have forgotten it, but Soap only brings it up when you’re alone now.

At the barracks, in the rec room, he’s sprawled out on the couch and half-dozing, half-watching a rugby match. When you walk past, he notices, sits up. Beckons you over, tells you to have a seat…then thoughtfully strokes his face with that damned smirk and comically waggling eyebrows.

“You’re a jackass,” you call out as you leave the room, but by now, it makes you laugh…and it lightly stokes that ever-burning flame low in your belly.

-----

Another time, he sidles up to you at the range as you study your targets with their tight formation of bullet holes. He points out one shot, high in the corner of the paper, off of the concentric circles of the bullseye.

“Missed one,” he says.

You scoff. “One out of….many.”

He matches your scoff with one of his own. “Might be losing your edge.”

“I’m not.” You know he’s winding you up, but that missed shot galls you.

“Maybe you’re stressed out.”

You set the target down on the wooden railing. “Maybe you’re stressing me out, MacTavish.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His blue eyes light up in glee, and he only gets out the first part of his retort—You know what’s good for de-stressing—before you drop to one knee and start disassembling your sniper rifle, ducking your head and hiding your burning cheeks from him.

“…nothing wrong with it,” he finishes as you shut the rifle’s case, and you realize you’ve missed part of what he’s said.

“There isn’t,” you agree. You stand up and lean a bit on the courage that sees you through each mission. You look him square in the eye and add, “but you’re just flirting.”

He gazes back at you, a soft smile on his face, only a little teasing. “Not just flirting.”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes.

He makes his Soap-branded tsch sound, then he loops his arm around your shoulders to pull you in close. He smells like…well, he smells like soap, clean with a hint of something herbal. It’s nothing he hasn’t done a hundred times—in safe houses after a mission, walking out of a bar on a night out with the team—that companionable way he pulls you against him.

“It makes me sad when you don’t believe me, hen,” he chuckles, and it’s low, right by your ear, his warm breath fanning over you.

You’re not sure what spurs your next move. You’re a natural-born sniper; you take the measure of everything around you—the curve of the earth, the speed and direction of the wind—before you squeeze your trigger. You’re the same with people, cautious and feeling out every angle of their intentions before you make a move. But you know Soap, and the question around his joke is the only uncertainty.

Something makes you act without much thought. Your rifle case in your hand, your other hand tucked in your pocket, and Soap’s arm slung around your shoulders…the moment is crystalized, will be an easy memory to recall in the years to come because this is when everything between the two of you changes.

“You know what?” you ask, and you don’t allow him to hazard a guess. Instead, you gaze at him levelly, straight into those bright blue eyes of his and add, “alright, let’s do this.”

It’s comical, how the smile drops from his face, how his mouth makes a little “oh” of surprise. His eyes scan your face, quick, like he’s trying to find the joke, trying to find proof you’re just having a laugh at his expense.

“Bonnie,” he starts to say, and his voice has a rough edge to it. His voice is missing its usual teasing edge, and he pauses to study you. You don’t know if he realizes it, but the tip of his tongue darts out, licks against his lower lip, like he’s really thinking of it now that it could be a reality.

“Bonnie, are you just…are ye fer real?” His voice is lower and his accent gets thicker, and it sets a frisson of heat shimmering through your lower belly.

You refuse to blink. Refuse to look away. “I’m for real if you are.”

“I was never joking about that.”

“Then I’m not joking either.” You swing your rifle case towards the barracks, playing at bravery but willing the fluttery feeling in your stomach to calm. “So let’s go.”

Soap—gregarious, convivial Soap—says nothing else on the walk back. He keeps his arm around your shoulders, though, and his hand settles against your bicep, rubs you briskly before gently holding you there, like he’s proving to himself that you’re real, that the moment is really happening.

-----

Your nerve wobbles a little when you get back to quarters. Soap’s nerves must have a similar wobble, because he turns to you and his usual boyish grin is gone, replaced by a grave expression.

“You dinnae have to do this,” he says, “if you don’t want to.”

Part of you wants to back out, chuck him in the arm and say it was just a joke. You could still back out. Soap is flirty and gregarious, but hooking up would irrevocably change your easy relationship with him. It could change the tenor of the team. And yet…

…don’t you both face death every day? Don’t you see the absolute worst of humanity? Don’t your bodies bear the scars of your hard, unrelenting lives—countless scars, visible and invisible both? Don’t you all operate in your own bubbles of loneliness, sleeping alone night after night but crowded out by the ghosts you all haul around?

Is it too much to ask for even a moment of connection, of not feeling alone?

You gaze back at him. Sweet Johnny MacTavish. Handsome but not vain, smart but not aloof, funny without being cruel about his teasing. Is there anyone you’d rather be with?

“I want to do this,” you tell him, and there’s no hesitation in your tone. “If you do. If you really were just joking around, then no harm, Johnny.”

His somber gaze softens at your use of his real name. “Wasn’t joking at all.” Then he opens the door to his quarters and turns to you, invites you in with a sweep of his hand, and when you walk past him, he lays his palm on your lower back to guide you.

-----

In truth, you’ve never actually sat on anyone’s face. It’s one of those funny sex acts that you joke around about but have never gotten around to, like sixty-nine (always seemed more complicated than necessary) or food-play (always seemed too messy).

Soap, it turns out, has never actually had his face sat on.

And it’s adorable, how he sheepishly runs his hand through the longer stripe of his short-shorn hair and admits as much.

“Figured it cannae be that complicated though,” he says. He huffs out a breath, and you realize how nervous he must be, and it gives you courage to take charge.

“Kiss me first. Then we can figure it out from there.”

The tame command makes his face light up and he murmurs, “yes, ma’am” in his brogue, and then he does as you say.

If Soap MacTavish is generally the team’s Golden Retriever, bouncing around with a wagging tail, he kisses with far more finesse. He cups your face gently, reverently and leans forward, brushes the lightest of kisses against your lips like he’s testing the waters. Like he’s waiting for you to pull away, and when you don’t, he kisses you again.

It’s awkward at first, but only because you’re both so tentative. It’s uncharted territory. He must be aware that you’re crossing a line in doing this, you think, and he must not care either. But the awkwardness melts away quickly because Soap is a damned good kisser, skilled in how he moves his mouth against yours, his tongue against yours. One of his hands stays on your face, cupping you gently and steering you, but the other hand touches your waist, your hip, slides around to squeeze your ass gently before returning to the dip of your waist.

He tastes like something warm and spicy, like cinnamon or nutmeg. Everything about him is warm, really: the way he cups your face but runs his thumb over your cheekbone, the way his other hand holds you steady as he kisses you. And the way he looks at you when he breaks the kiss, the almost-shy way he tugs at the hem of your shirt and asks if he can take it off.

He’s warm too—his body, his skin as you bare it with each article of clothing shed. You strip each other in tandem, and the sight of him leaves you breathless. He’s like something carved by a Renaissance sculptor, but when you smooth your palms over the dips and swells of his muscles, you find that he’s warm to the touch, wonderfully so, and a wave of lust almost takes you out at the knees by how much you want to feel his body against yours, under you or on top of you, every inch of you pressed against him.

Soap must feel the same way about you—he touches you just as gently as before, almost reverent, but his goddamned eyes practically shine when he looks at you, then groans out, “fuck, but you’re stunning, hen.”

He maneuvers you both towards the bed, and then he stretches out across it, and this is precisely why your sexual repertoire has always been lacking: when a brutally handsome man is stretched out in front of you like a damned buffet, your mind singularly focuses on one thing, and you rarely remember that there’s other, more adventuresome things you could do.

You’re already turned on. Ever since the two of you walked back from the range, you’ve been on a low simmer of lust, and the desire has ratcheted up with each kiss, with each little grumbling groan of Soap’s, with each sweep of his big warm hands along your body.

So you’re already turned on, so why sit on his face when his beautiful cock—perfectly sized for you, the ruddy tip already leaking precum—is also an option?

And Soap is no dummy. He must guess at your internal battle because he says your name softly, pulls your gaze back to his face where he smiles that brilliant Soap-smile at you.

“Alright then?” he asks. He pats his upper chest. “You can sit right here, to start.”

It hits you all at once how intimate this is. Fucking, hooking up—that’s one thing. But sitting on your teammate’s face feels like you’re taking a further step into the unknown. Oral sex, to you, is already more intimate than regular ol’ intercourse, but sitting on his face feels…even more intimate. There’s a lot of trust on both ends: he has to trust you not to hurt him, not to put too much weight or force on his face or neck. And you have to trust him too, since you’re basically smothering him you with your pussy, and many men are precious little babies about eating pussy.

“I could just…” You trail off and gesture vaguely at where his erection strains and bobs against his belly, and Soap snorts before he replies, “we could do both, hen.”

When you don’t say anything, when you don’t move, he adds, “c’mon, sweet girl. I’m dyin’ for a taste of ye.”

The accent is unfair, you decide. The accent is not fighting fair. Soap’s Scottish brogue is charming in the best of times, but his bedroom version is thicker, at a slightly lower register, and it’s entirely unfair. It easily dismantles the rest of your meager defenses, so you nod and then kneel on the bed. But when you start to awkwardly clamor on top of him, he stills you for a beat and taps his mouth, says, “give me a kiss first.”

And the kiss is unfair too because it reminds you that it’s just Soap, one of your dearest teammates, a man who often holds your life in his hands and whose life you hold in your own. His now-familiar taste of spicy warmth on your tongue, and his lips curving in a smile against yours when he whispers, “climb on up, hen Don’t keep me waitin’ anymore.”

There’s no sexy way to climb on top of him. Do you just kneel by his chest and throw a leg over him? Do you straddle him lower and scoot up? You split the difference, try to straddle him on his lower chest and scoot up, but then his one arm gets pinned. Any other man? It might be a deal-breaker being so clumsy, but Soap laughs underneath you—a genuine belly-laugh full of warmth that makes you giggle too. He wrangles his arm free, then lays both hands on your hips and guides you the rest of the way.

This is unbearable intimate too, being so exposed to his bright blue-eyed gaze. You probably have tons of issues around previous men who didn’t eat pussy, who were grossed out by it, but Soap’s eyes practically glitter black with how blown his pupils are. His face rarely hides its emotions very well (he’s a shitty poker player), and there’s no disgust in his expression at all. There’s only desire, naked and apparent.

“Tell me,” he says, and his voice is a low growl that sends that frisson of heat straight to your core. “Tell me what is working for you, yeah? Don’t go quiet on me.”

You nod, and you wish you could think of something cool or funny to say, but Soap lifts his head a little and presses a plush, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, where both are splayed in front of him, and before you can even beat yourself up for failing to think of something cool or funny, his mouth is on you in earnest.

Soap, a damned good kisser. It translates to this, his skilled tongue and lips licking at you, suckling at you, swirling against you before he breaks up the pattern with an outright kiss, then resumes his routine. He traces the tip of his tongue around the firm bud of your clit, the perfect amount of pressure before he snakes it lower, lapping at the arousal leaking from your entrance. He’s unabashed about it, groans against your feverish skin, and you love him in this moment—love that he wasn’t joking after all, love that he had led you here, where you sit perched on him while he feasts on your cunt and seems to genuinely enjoy it as he does.

Any other position, you’d lean down and kiss him, or pull him to you and kiss him. Now, as he groans against you again, you reach down and run your fingers through the longer stripe in his hair. He must like that, because he groans a third time, and his grip on your hips spasms tighter.

You remember what he asked of you, so when he purses his lips and suckles against your clit, you gasp out a startled “oh!” but then add, “fuck, Johnny. Just like t-that.”

“Good?” It comes out muffled against you, and he pauses his mouth long enough to gaze up at you with a smile.

“So good.” You shift your hand, cup his stubbled chin slick with your arousal—a gentle movement that makes his smile soften too.

“Like when you call me Johnny, hen.” Now he sounds a little shy, like he’s edging close to something beyond a random hookup with face-sitting.

“Keep using your mouth like that and I’ll call you Johnny all the time,” you tease.

“Deal.” And then he’s on you again, laving your sensitive folds with his tongue, his bit of stubble raising a warm burn against your inner thighs. His hands on your hips pull you closer, and he encourages the slow, careful rhythm when you start to actually ride his face—a languid back-and-forth, mindful of his need for oxygen, while he eats your pussy with the fervor of a starving man.

Your orgasm approaches faster than you thought; you thought you might have to fake it, since you rarely come from oral alone. But there’s something about this position. You feel powerful in a benign way, in charge, but mindful of the man underneath you. You run your fingers through his hair and Soap preens at the touch, just as he preens when you pant out praise for him, tell him how good you feel. How good he is making you feel.

He must sense it because his grip tightens on your hips, but his tongue moves faster and focuses solely on your clit—teasing with the tip of his tongue, then laving it with the flat of his tongue, then wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

“F-fuck,” you choke out. “Johnny…fuck…I’m gonna…” but you don’t finish the sentence, you keen out a garble of nonsense as you come.

The heat in your belly pools over, spills over in a brilliant wash that courses through your veins, into your trembling legs and up through your body, makes your vision shimmer and crackle with sparks. Your heartbeat, your panting breath are loud in your own ears, and you hear Soap groan but he sounds faraway. He teases your orgasm, prolongs it by licking against you until you grip his hair tighter and hold his head still while you clumsily dismount, then flop gracelessly onto the bed beside him.

You feel boneless. You feel heavy, sleepy, like you could sink into the mattress and sleep for days. You close your eyes and feel the bed shift, and Soap disappears for a moment. You hear running water—he must be cleaning his face, you think—but then the mattress dips again and he’s curling his warm body around yours, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you to him, then settles the blanket over both of you.

“Good, yeah?”

You laugh. “Yeah, that was good. Especially for someone who’s never done it before.” A beat. “Give me a moment to catch my breath and then I can help you out.”

Soap chuckles above you, and you feel him press his lips to your forehead before settling again. “No need.”

“But I—”

“Already came.”

The gears in your head turn slow when you’re sated from sex. Coming makes you stupid. “Huh? When?”

Another chuckle, another kiss to your head. “When I was eating you, hen.”

You turn your head and try to peer up at him. He looks comfortable and sleepy too, content and sated. “Seriously?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Told ye I was dyin’ for a taste.” He shifts a little, pulls you closer to him. He tugs the blanket more securely around your shoulders. “If ye want a second round, I’ll need a few minutes.”

You appraise the situation: the warm scent of Soap, the feel of his naked body pressed to yours, the warm little cocoon he’s created here in his bed. Of course you want a second round, but you’re sleepy too, and the thought of sleeping with Soap doesn’t seem nearly as terrifying as it might have seemed before he had his mouth on your pussy.

“Or we could sleep,” you offer.

“Sleep,” he agrees. “Round two tomorrow.”

The doubts from earlier start to surface in your mind, but they seem tiny and inconsequential when you’re wrapped up in Soap’s arms. You feel sleep tugging at you—he’s already asleep, you think, breathing deep and even against you—so you chance to brush your lips against the bit of him you can reach and whisper good night to him.

But he’s not quite completely asleep yet because he kisses you back, another press of his lips against your head, and he whispers back, “g’night, hen.”

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap imagine #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish imagine #soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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sodaabaa · 11 days

Text

birthday

anthony bridgerton x wife!reader wife!reader is excited to celebrate her husband’s first birthday since they got married only to wake up and find anthony missing. she takes a trip to mayfair to ask the bridgerton family where anthony has disappeared to.

tw: grief, mentions of a parent's death.

a/n: hi everyone, wanted to take a second to just thank you for all the support. i started writing these just for fun and decided on an impulse to start posting my writings, not expecting them to get past even 15 likes! i really enjoyed writing this oneshot and navigating anthony's feelings in this one. let me know if you'd like to see a part 2 within this story line or similar stories within the bridgerton universe!

The first rays of dawn broke through the curtains, pulling Y/N from her sleep. She reached to the side, feeling the bed for her husband to find only the absence of his warmth. She sat up, it was unusual for Anthony to be gone so early in the morning. The two of them had a habit of starting their mornings together before he went off to tend to business, the vacant spot on the bed puzzled her – today was Anthony’s thirtieth birthday, the first one they would spend married. She already had a plan for the day; dotingly wake him up with kisses in all the spots he loved, take their breakfast in bed (a special one at that – she requested the cooks to make his favorite marmalade with the first plums of the season), pack a basket with light sandwiches and his favorite wine to picnic by a nearby lake, and end the night with his most favorite activity. Y/N pouted, upset that her plans had been foiled by his absence. She pushed the duvet off and dressed herself, wondering what possibly could have been important enough for him to leave without telling her.

“Amelia,” she called out to one of the maids. Amelia had been working at Aubrey Hall for years, she knew the ins and outs of this place like the back of her hand, maybe she’d seen Anthony this morning?

“Yes, my lady?”

“Did you happen to see the viscount this morning?”

“No, my lady. My apologies,” she paused, “though – you may want to check with the dowager viscountess.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “Whatever for?”

Amelia fiddled with the rag in her hands.

“Amelia, what is it?”

“Every year, on the viscount’s birthday he…disappears. He usually slips out before dawn when we’re all just getting started with the day. But we’ve never seen where he goes.”

Y/N’s confusion only deepened. Amelia waited for Y/N to dismiss her – she did so, waving a hand and offering a gracious smile for the information she provided. Amelia exited with a curtsy, leaving Y/N with no choice but to pay the Bridgerton clan a visit. Perhaps they could give her some insight into her husband’s mysterious birthday habit.

She managed to reach Mayfair before the sun had peaked in the sky. The carriage approached Bridgerton House, Y/Npeered through to see if Anthony might be somewhere around. He was nowhere to be found, much to her dismay. She stood before the double doors of Bridgerton House, signaling to the footman to announce her arrival. In the blink of an eye, her favorite Bridgerton sibling came running to the door.

“Y/N! How lovely it is to see you!” Eloise exclaimed, pulling her in for a hug. She returned the hug, grateful for the way Eloise managed to instantly raise Y/N’s spirits. Violet followed Eloise, a knowing smile on her face. Y/N pulled away from Eloise’s tight embrace to greet Violet.

“Can’t seem to find Anthony, can you dearest?” Violet said when she pulled away from their hug.

“I see this is a regular occurrence then?” She replied, feeling left out – why had no one bothered to inform her of this habit of his? She would have saved herself from the disappointment of foiled plans.

“Come in, you’ll catch a chill if you stand at the door any longer,” Violet ushered them upstairs.

“Y/N!” Hyacinth and Gregory were the next to greet her as she walked into the drawing room.

She gave the two little Bridgertons a hug, commenting on how tall Gregory had gotten and the length of Hyacinth’s curly hair. The pair immediately began updating her on all the things they’d gotten up to while Y/N was gone – though they didn’t get far.

“Hyacinth, Gregory – please give Y/N a moment to rest from her trip. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about your mischief later,” Violet said. The inseparable duo pouted for a moment before taking a seat in their usual spot. Y/N herself took a between Violet and Eloise, turning to ask her more about her husband's whereabouts.

“Do you know where he goes off to? Surely his mother might know.”

“I’m afraid I do not. I do, however, know the reason he disappears,” Violet looked over at her youngest children, ensuring they were engrossed in whatever they were doing before continuing.

“Since Edmund died, there has not been a birthday where he does not run off like this. It started when he turned ten and nine. I know it has something to do with his father, I am certain, but I cannot figure out where he goes. The first year, I checked Edmund’s grave to no avail. I’ve searched and searched my mind for places that held significance to Edmund, to Anthony,” she explained, throwing her hands up with a defeated sigh.

Y/N took a moment to process Violet’s revelation, guilt slowly eating her up. She had been so involved with her ownplans for Anthony’s birthday and then felt so disappointed but all this time, he was taking time to grieve. Her heart shattered for her husband – her valiant, loving, sweetheart of a husband.

“If I may,” Eloise cut in with the raise of a finger, “perhaps he simply despises the concept of birthdays and wishes to avoid all the commotion by hiding out in some pub somewhere?”

“Eloise!” Violet exclaimed.

“My, my, what do we have here? Viscountess Bridgerton has come to visit us!” Benedict interrupted the three women on the sofa, shooting a warm smile towards Y/N.

“Benedict, it’s lovely to see you,” she replied. She rose from her seat, giving Benedict a quick embrace before he took his seat across from them.

“Allow me to guess – Anthony’s disappeared?”

Y/N nodded, “I don’t suppose you happen to know where?”

Benedict clicked his tongue, “I’m afraid not.”

She sighed, “Well, when does he usually return then?”

“The next day. And to make matters worse, he acts as if it were totally normal, avoiding all questions about his whereabouts until you simply surrender trying to figure it out,” Benedict said.

That night, Y/N retired to their bedroom though she had no intentions of sleep – how could she manage to when her husband was off God knows where, in what condition. It kept her up with worry, so she decided she’d stay up and wait for his return. Staring at the walls had become tortuous as the hours droned by, she wrapped herself in a robe and made her way toward Anthony’s study. Perhaps she could find something here to clue her into her husband's habit. She poured herself a glass of Anthony’s whiskey, choking down the bitter liquid, and sat back on his chair with a sigh.

She looked around the dimly lit room, a portrait of Anthony’s father hung up to the left of the desk. She wondered what he was like, Anthony rarely ever spoke of him. Her heart ached at the thought of her husband at eighteen, witnessing what he’d witnessed and resuming to take on the mantle that’d belonged to his father in the midst of such trauma. Her eyes scanned the painting – catching on a pocket watch in her late father-in-law’s hand. She stood, leaning in to get a closer look at the watch. Realization dawned on her. This was Anthony’s pocket watch – well, it had been his father’s but this was the same watch he carried with him everywhere. She had noticed early on his habit of checking the time almost obsessively. She always wondered why he had such a fascination with time.

I could never surpass my father. He was a greater man than I. Anthony’s words echoed in her mind.

It all fell into place – clicking like a lock in her mind.

She ran back upstairs, rushing to wear something more appropriate. She quietly ran back downstairs, grabbing her cloak on the way out. The September days were cool and refreshing but the nights were cooler, which Y/N usually savored but the cold air only increased her adrenaline tonight, causing a chill to run down her spine.

She summoned a carriage, willing it to come faster as it approached her.

“To the chapel, please.”

As the carriage moved closer to the chapel, she could make out the vague silhouette of a man sitting on a park bench facing the clock in the center. The moonlight illuminated the small square, the scene before her looked to be straight out of a painting. She stepped out of the carriage, rushing towards the silhouette.

She stood behind him for a moment, afraid to disrupt him – afraid of what his reaction might be. She knew her husband preferred to grieve alone but this was beyond grief; Anthony feared his birthdays, feared the clock running out of time.

“Anthony?”

The man in front of her startled, inhaling as he turned around. She sighed in relief.

“How did you find me here?” He said, motioning for her to sit with him.

She walked around the bench, placing a kiss on her husband’s forehead as she sat beside him.

“Your pocket watch.”

He let out a breathy laugh, a humorless action. He held the watch, thumb circling its frame.

“You are not bound to time, Anthony,” she said gently.

He looked up at her, eyes red from the long day he must have had.

“Are we all not bound to time? Some simply have less.”

“You cannot know that for certain, dearest.”

“I know I am less of a man than my father was yet he merely had eight and thirty years,” his voice was hoarse.

“You are just as much of a man as he was. You’ve fought so hard for this family, do not belittle your efforts,” she took his face in her hands.

She wished she could show him how much of a man he truly was. He'd raised his siblings and taken on the burden of being a viscount to allow for his brothers to pursue their dreams. He ensured his sisters were well provided for and he dealt with his mother's grief for years -- all without complaint. Because of this, it was a privilege to call Anthony her husband, if only he could see himself how she saw him.

“You are not leaving me behind in a mere eight years, Anthony Bridgerton. I will fight death himself if that is to be the case.”

He chuckled, a hint of real joy behind his eyes as he did.

“I have no doubt you would give it a valiant effort, my love.”

He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her lips.

“It’s late and cold, shall we head back to the house?”

She nodded, grateful to return her husband to where he belonged – at her side, with his family surrounding them.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family

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jinnie-ret · 8 months

Note

9th member whos family is extremely unsupportive of their career choices, skz do their best to cheer them up after a loud argument that the boys overhear. their family is rude and downright mean to their 9th member and they cant let them be put down by their family so they remind her that theyre her family. love your writing.

family is complicated

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: emotionally abusive parents

word count: 1.6k

summary: after your troubling phone call is overhead by all of the boys, they comfort you and reassure you that they are your true family

Thank you sm for your request!! I hope you enjoy this one too :)))

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Y/Nnie! Lunch is ready," Chan called the maknae into the kitchen, plating up some food for her. Although they lived in different dorms now, Y/N staying with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, and Lee Know and Felix staying with VocalRACHA, they decided to do a whole group meal today.

Everyone was sat waiting at the table, before a sluggish looking Y/N padded into the kitchen, wiping sleep away from her eyes.

"Aw bless her, she looks exhausted," Felix whispered and frowned to Han, who nodded along.

"It's her mum and dad again, don't mention them yeah?" Han quietly replied, offering a light smile to Y/N when she plonked herself down into the chair opposite him.

"Mmm, what's for breakfast?" Y/N blinked her eyes rapidly, where redness could be seen around the lids. After an endless streams of texts from her parents last night, she cried herself to sleep, the boys doing their best to comfort her before she allowed herself to break down.

"It's lunch time, silly," Hyunjin fondly giggled as he ruffled her hair and placed a cup of tea down in front of her. "Here, peppermint tea, I know it's your favourite."

"Thanks Jinnie," Y/N tilted her head upwards and he smiled and scrunched his nose at her in response.

"It's nice having lunch together like this, I feel like we haven't done it in a while," Jeongin commented, twirling some ramen with his chopsticks.

"We had fried chicken at the company like two days ago," Changbin pointed out and laughed.

"Yeah but it's different being sat around the table with a home cooked meal," Lee Know nodded and agreed with Jeongin.

"It's different now, like sometimes I get a facetime and just have Seungmin staring at me whilst he eats like," Han starts laughing, and mimics the face the puppy like member of the group would pull.

"What do you think about eating on your own, Seungmin? Now that we've split into different dorms," Chan asked curiously from one end of the table.

"I love it so much," Seungmin genuinely and joyfully says, causing everyone to break out into laugh, Hyunjin's iconic cackle sticking out amongst them all. Even Y/N, in a tired quiet mood, broke out into a smile.

But that happy mood, was torn in half by the ringtone that blared from Y/N's phone. She picked up her phone and sighed when she saw the contact name, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Are you ok, Y/N?" Minho queried gently from next to her, making his tone more caring and comforting like he always did when he spoke to her. She was similar to Felix in that she had a sensitive heart.

"I'm f-fine, umm, I've got to take this," Y/N scoots out of her chair from the dining table, and walks round the corner from the kitchen into the hallway that followed down to their individual bedrooms.

"I'm worried about her," Jeongin spoke up, a frown tugging on his features, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards.

"I swear if that's her parents-" Changbin gritted his teeth.

"When will you come home and leave that useless job behind you?"

"Mum, why do you always do this to me? I'm doing something that I truly love and you always dismiss it!"

"I don't care about what you enjoy doing. You're not thinking about your family. How could you leave us like this? It's disrespectful. You've betrayed us!"

"I send money to you every month! I support you! I do everything I can, mum!"

"Your everything isn't good enough, Y/N. You're an embarrassment to the whole family."

"Mum don't say that!"

Then there was the sound of the phone call being hung up on, and Y/N quickly dashed past the opening of the hallway to rush into the bathroom.

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, girl. I thought you may have changed your mind after my wise words last night, but I can see you're still as stupid and ignorant as ever."

"Y/N-" Han stood up to stop her and grab her attention, but she had already slammed the door.

"Have they always been that bad?" Seungmin questioned, appalled at the phone call they all overheard.

In her tired state, Y/N must have put the call on loudspeaker, and not realised that the boys had heard it too.

"I knew they were bad but... hearing her own mother yell at her like that... I thought the texts were bad," Chan sighed and shook his head. His hands rested on the table and he cracked his knuckles together.

"Why, what happened with the texts? Hannie said just to act normal but..." Felix brought up what he had said earlier.

"Yesterday she got some threatening texts from her dad, telling her he'd fly over to Seoul and personally drag her back home, and if she didn't 'comply and obey him' he'd make sure that she'd 'pay for it'," Hyunjin sighed, quoting the exact words he read from Y/N's phone himself.

"That bastard threatened violence?!" Lee Know exclaimed in disbelief, his fist clenched tightly around the edge of the table.

"We should check on her," Jeongin got up as he shook his head, walking round to the bathroom and knocking on the door. "Y/Nnie? Do you want to talk about what happened, love? We all heard," he added onto the end.

"No, it's fine, Innie. I'm ok, please don't come in," Y/N's voice cracked. "I just want some time to myself," she whimpered from the cold bathroom floor, rocking back and forth as she tried to process the words her own mother threw at her once more. Her mind was frantically pulling her in all sorts of different directions, saying 'what if' a thousand times.

"Sweetheart, please talk to us, we're worried about you," Felix's deep voice came from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine," Y/N sniffled, shakily standing up as her head pounded from all of the stress.

"You're not, we can hear it in your voice, Y/Nnie," Lee Know said firmly, a hint of frustration in his voice but only because he cared about her so much.

"Please open the door, Y/N," Jeongin tried again, hand resting against the door.

"She's not going to, mate," Bang Chan sighed, slumping down into the sofa, stretching out his neck and body. "She said she wants to be alone."

But then, the lock to the bathroom door clicked, revealing an exhausted looking Y/N who had tear streams down her face, as well as red eyes and a red nose.

"I don't want to talk about it," Y/N could barely look up at the three members that had been stood outside of the bathroom waiting for her.

"That's fine, just come sit with us, yeah?" Felix grabbed her hand gently.

"Don't shut us out, please," Lee Know ducked his head down to look into her eyes, and the girl nodded, still looking down at her feet. He rested his hand on her lower back as they encouraged her to head through to the lounge.

"Come here," Hyunjin opened his arms immediately as soon as she entered the room and just like that she was glued to his side.

"Y/N, I know you won't want to talk about it, but let us talk to you, ok?" Changbin started, "The way you have been treated by your parents, is by all means, not ok."

"And we want you to know, because we heard what your mum said, you are enough for us," Seungmin added on.

Their kind words caused her to let out a sob, and she heard coos and hushes around her of 'oh, Y/N!'.

"Darling, please don't get upset," Han crouched down in front of Y/N and wiped her tears away, and Hyunjin's arms tightened around her.

"I-it's just, it's-" Y/N couldn't get her words out before another sob ripped from her throat.

"Y/Nnie, breathe, it's ok love, take your time," Chan gently spoke up, causing her to listen to his words and actively take some deep breaths.

"We won't let you feel down ever again from the things they had said or done to you," Lee Know promised.

"We're your family, Y/Nnie," Jeongin cracked a small smile, eyes glistening with tears of his own.

"I wish you had been my family from the start. I feel like I've wasted so much of my life already," Y/N cried out, her hands digging into her legs.

"Oh, if we could have been a group from the start I'm sure we would have. Just think this, you've got us now. I know it's easier said then done, but don't worry about the past. Let's just think about our future, ok?" Changbin said from next to her on the sofa, gently pulling her hands away from her lap to prevent her from causing more harm.

"But what if-" Y/N stuttered and stopped herself from continuing once more.

"There are no what ifs with us, Y/N," Hyunjin rubbed circles into her shoulders.

"Yeah, you're stuck with us now," Han joked, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked.

For a few more moments you revelled in the comfort of being with your members, your family before going on with the rest of your day. And if anyone asked Chan if he blocked your mum and dad's phone numbers, he'd say no, of course. If they were really worried, they had other ways of getting in contact. It wouldn't hurt anyone. Just make your lives easier as a family.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #skz 9th member reader #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member

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lovinpelova · 5 months

Text

obvious | j. fleming

summary; you and jessie randomly start to grow closer, your teammates notice immediately.

🎵 one life - justin bieber

jessie fleming was truly one of a kind. you had never met anyone like her- and that's speaking from afar.

you weren't close at all, simply smiling when you crossed paths or celebrating the odd goal together when the timing was right. other than that, jessie stuck to who she knew and so did you. the only time you'd speak to niamh is at england camp, prefering to hang out with sam, zećira and lauren when jessie wasn't with them. you weren't scared of the woman, you'd just missed your chance to grow close when you both joined three years earlier.

that's why it was slightly awkward when emma partnered you up with her that morning.

it just so happened that she was pairing you all up with everyone stood opposite each other, all your teammates arguing over who they were stood in front of as it wasn't a directly straight line between you all but jessie immediately set her eyes on you, both of you smiling softly at the other. you harboured no hard feelings for her and she felt the same - you just simply weren't close friends - so you took this as the opportunity to get to know her better.

emma kept you with your aprtner for the entire training session, moving from simple passing drills to playing matches with your arms linked together so you were forced to improvise. the close proximity had worked like team bonding for you and jessie, making inside jokes and playing like you'd grown up together since you'd learned what the other wanted so quickly. you must admit you were sad when emma dismissed all of you for the day, wanting to spend more time with the canadian as you'd grown so accustomed to her company in such a short space of time.

luckily for you, jessie felt the same way.

"y/n/n wait up!"

she called after you as you were heading into the changing room, catching up and linking your arms together out of habit after how long you'd been like that all day.

"me, niamh, sam and zećira are gonna go grab something to eat around the corner. you wanna come with?"

you smiled down at the thoughtful question, noticing how close she was to you as you opened the changing room door and headed towards your cubby with her following.

"but if you already have plans it's fine-"

"no i'd love to jess! the others won't mind though will they?"

the midfielder shook her head with a smile, happy she was going to spend another couple hours with you. she couldn't explain it- but something was drawing her towards you more than before. she shook it off as wanting to be your friend, not knowing what that always really means for girls who like girls.

you walked to the small café not too far from training with jessie, opting to leave your cars so you could save fuel and get some more steps in. the conversation flowed as smooth as ever as you spoke about the upcoming champions league game against hacken and who you wanted to sit with on the plane, your lives growing up in seperate countries whilst comparing the differences of england and canada- everything you could think of, you and jessie were talking about. you made your way into the café with sam, niamh and zećira narrowing their eyes at the sight of you two so close but deciding to ignore it as they called you over to sit with them.

you didn't miss the way jessies thigh was pushed right up against yours, neither of you moving away. thinking it was just an innocent action of habit since you'd been so close that day or maybe she just hadn't noticed- but when she pressed her thigh further against yours when you accidentally moved it away a bit you knew she was doing it on purpose. zoning out from whatever sam was saying and turning towards jessie, you couldn't help but admire her.

you'd noticed how pretty she was before obviously, it's hard to say she'd bad looking because she truly isn't, but right now you were finding her attractive. you were staring at her lips and noticing the way her body was so tightly pressed up against yours and the way her hand patted your thigh to get your attention- oh god, she'd caught you staring.

"stop zoning out on me and listen to sam, you big dope."

"can't help it when you're so nice to look at, freckles."

you shamelessly flirted back before you could think about it, your hand patting hers and staying there so she couldn't retract it, loving the way her fingertips were tracing shapes on your thigh and palm was covering majorith of your quad. for such a small woman she definitely had big hands. too focused on the way they felt on you though, you missed the way she was staring at you with a massive blush across her cheeks- the other girls didn't.

--------

a month later, you and jessie had truly never been closer. texting every day with the odd phone call or facetime when you felt like it, you'd found a pair of her training joggers in your wardrobe after she left them the other night but opted to wear them instead of returning them (the girls also noticed this, seeing as you didn't sign to chelsea for number seventeen) and she'd stolen one of your hoodies with the excuse of being cold.

you'd be lying if you said you hadn't developed feelings for the woman and were shamelessly projecting them onto her, she hadn't stopped you yet and seemingly felt the same judging by the way she was currently dragging you through the streets of london with your fingers laced together behind her. you sneakily took a picture of your hands and posted it to your instagram story with a heart on the bottom right, ignoring the messages your teammates were immediately piling into you with asks of what you and jessie were doing or teasing jokes of how their favourite canadian is doing.

the girls had figured out you and jessie liked each other a while ago, so it wasn't surprising them when they saw how often you were hanging out or sneaking around training to get a moment alone. you both knew you liked each other but you hadn't said it out loud, instead opting to say it with your actions and celebrating internally when the other didn't hesitate to let you continue or reciprocate.

"you look so good today jeff."

you complimented whilst pulling her back into your arms, your fingers still laced together whilst your other arm rested on her waist to ensure she didn't get shy and turn away from you. the way her grey oversized jumper was falling over her wrist to emphasise her veins, how her black jeans were fitting her well but not too well so she was still comfy, her hair down for once as she wore a golden chain you'd quickly became obsessed with once you noticed it- it was all just so attractive.

"can say the same about you y/n/n."

the canadian flirted shamelessly, smiling at how you were clearly caught off guard by her sudden confidence and the blush that covered your cheeks as a result.

"so, sam was talking to me yesterday and..."

"and?"

jessie trailed off as you continued walking down the street together, ensuring your faces weren't going to be seen by paparazzi but not bothering to hide from fans.

"she said the whole team knows about us so we might as well make it official before they start nagging about it."

"right. well, at training tomorrow we'll just tell them we're dating and get it over with."

you didn't miss the way jessie blushed once you put a label on what you were, deciding to not comment so you saved her embarrassment.

"so we're dating?"

she asked timidly, watching you scoff at her question and shake your head in disbelief.

"what do you think we are?"

"i'd like to be dating- to be your girlfriend."

you stopped walking to pull her into your arms once more, smiling softly down at her as your free hand gently held her face and pulled her into a sweet kiss. the midfielder held your hand that was on her face with her thumb stroking over your knuckles, kissing back immediately like she'd been waiting her whole life for that moment. thanks to sam being the topic of conversation, you and jessie had just shared your first kiss, the ultimate wingwoman. (she'll never let you live that down once you tell her.)

"we're girlfriends then."

you spoke confidently with a smile to match jessies, pecking her lips again and watching her process what just happened for a moment, starting to walk towards your initial destination with matching grins on your faces.

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inuyashaluver · 6 months

Note

can you write more about maya le tissier?

rumours - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which you are in a secret relationship, fans and your own teammates speculating whether you and your ‘best friend’ are dating or not

warnings: swearing

a/n: IM A BIG MAYA STAN OMG THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, maya wouldn’t necessarily say your relationship was a secret, rather, private. you and maya originally started being friends in the england youth teams, being the best of friends while playing for different clubs but being finally reunited at manchester united.

you and maya had always been extremely affectionate towards each other, even through your friendship. everyone back then always questioned whether the two of you were dating when you were just friends, but the two of you would claim you weren’t together. and so, when you did start dating, you’d both assumed people would catch on but clearly not, having previously heard your rejection to the idea of the two of you being anything but best friends, people just didn’t ask anymore.

—

fans constantly edited the two of you together, multiple social media accounts dedicated to your relationship while people tried to pry into whether the two of you were dating. you and maya were private people and liked to keep it that way..well, you tried, at least.

during time at manchester united and the lionesses, the two of you were always seen together. you arrived together at camp, you trained together, you ate together, you roomed together - the two of you were inseparable. but the thing is, you’d always been like this, your teammates thinking absolutely nothing of it, none of them knew you were dating. not even your roommate, millie knew you were dating, even when maya was at your house every other day.

—

you were both currently getting some snacks for the bus on your way to game day for the lionesses, it was an away game so you’d had to leave early from the hotel to make time for training before the match. maya got you both some warm drinks, a cold morning that both of you didn’t enjoy.

as you waited, maya held you from the back, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as her head rested on your shoulder, she lightly swayed you from side to side. both of you were smiling softly at the embrace, keeping you both warm.

your manchester teammates, millie and ella walk past you with teasing grins. “oh you cuties, so in love!” they meant this jokingly - not even they knew you were dating, you both smiled at them, maya leaning into you further before letting go to retrieve your drinks.

“be careful, baby, it’s hot” she hands you your drink and you smile appreciatively, giving your girlfriend a sweet kiss on her cheek before walking towards the bus. leah and alessia had watched the entire interaction, looking at each other with questioning expressions before dismissing it quickly, leah would be sure to ask the manchester girls if you two were dating, already assuming the answer that the two of you were just friends.

stationed at the door of the bus, the social media manager was filming the arrivals, your arms were interlinked with maya’s as you approached the bus, throwing a charming smile to the camera.

maya laughs when you lightly trip over your own feet, catching you before you could even stumble any further. “please tell me you caught that” she giggles at the camera, looking at you affectionately when you glare at her. she places a hand on the small of your back and directs you to your usual spot, the middle-back of the bus to be exact.

once you’re situated, you place your head on her shoulder as the both of you lightly chat, talking about random topics and giggling with each other like lovesick idiots.

once you arrived at the pitch, maya held your hand as she dragged you off the bus, claiming she needed to stretch her legs. your teammates watched as the two of you walked past them hand in hand, giving each other looks and shrugging at each other, a few of them made it their mission to figure out if you were dating or if you at least had feeling for each other just as friends.

during training, you partner up, barely keeping your hands off each other. the two of you genuinely had people confused, a huge debate sparking between the lionesses when the two of you weren’t there in the change rooms, (you were making out in the tunnel, literally anyone could’ve seen you if they just went outside).

“nah, they’re not dating, (y/n) lives with me, i think i’d know if they’re dating” millie scoffs, leah immediately rebuttals. “okay, well, less and i heard maya call (y/n) baby and then (y/n) kissed her on the cheek!” leah exclaims, alessia nodding along with her words, “yeah, it’s true!” alessia adds with a proud grin.

“oh whatever! friends do that!” millie defended, ella throws her arm around the girl to back her up, “they’re just friends, we just like to take the piss out of them” ella laughs along with millie.

meanwhile, you and maya were lazily making out in the hallway just outside the change room. maya firmly pressed you against the wall as your lips moved together in a sweet kiss, you hum into her and smile into her lips, this girl had you wrapped around her finger, you the same for her.

you pull away reluctantly at hearing the debate growing louder and louder. maya chasing your lips for a couple of sweet pecks before finally pulling away, holding you to her closely. “are they seriously doing this right now” you groan, thumping your forehead onto her chin and wrapping your arms around her neck to pull her into a hug.

she dips her hands into your jersey and runs them over the skin of your back. she hums at your words, “how do they not know we’re dating?” maya says in disbelief, placing a kiss on your cheek as she pulls away from you, the both of you needed to go back in.

“do we tell them?” you question, gripping maya’s bicep as you held onto her, “let’s just be us and see if they’re bright enough to figure it out” maya winks and you throw her a cheeky grin, nodding and leaning up to place a final kiss on her lips before walking back to the change room.

when you open the door, everyone’s head snap towards you, “hiya” you say brightly, a few of the girls trying not to laugh at your random response, maya not holding back and just giggling at you, her hands planted on your waist as she directs you to sit in her cubby.

they all watch as you place your legs into her lap, both of you talking quietly while maya runs her hands over the skin of your thighs. all of them looking at each other challengingly, you and maya putting on a show to really confirm your relationship but so many of your teammates just didn’t know.

—

it was game time, you and maya were on the bench. maya had told you to put on two jackets because it was too cold but you just wouldn’t listen. so when your girlfriend sees you shivering next to her, she can’t help but shake her head at your stubbornness.

she looks at you with a mocking grin, “shut up, le tissier” you grumble and she looks at you in disbelief, “did you just last name me, baby?” she hissed, you can’t help but smirk and shrug at her, she just laughs at your reaction. “are you cold?” she teased with a grin, you just shake your head at her, “no” you’re lying through your chattering teeth, you were freezing.

she quickly squeezes your thigh before hurriedly sprinting off to the change room, coming back with a puffer in her hands. you smile at her lovingly as she holds it out to you, helping you into it and zipping it up. you didn’t see the puffer you were wearing, unaware that ‘le tissier’ was displayed on your back for everyone to see, not that you cared, the two of you always shared clothes, the fans having an absolute field day with it.

with another win for england, the two of you walk towards the girls, clapping them on the back and giving hugs of congratulations. when people see the name on your back, the looks at each other start again, mainly the challenge of leah and alessia vs millie and ella.

“jacket” leah mouths to the pair but they just wave her off, friends always shared jackets. you and maya do a lap around the pitch, her arm around your shoulder as the two of you take pictures and give signatures to everyone.

when you’re done, you see maya giving her final signature and when she’s about to walk away, you jump onto her back, she immediately catches you by your thighs and smiles at you affectionately, running off to the change rooms. leah smirks at millie, millie just shakes her head at leah, “i’ll believe it when i see it, williamson”

—

by the time camp was over, you’d gone back to manchester. you’d spent the entire day with maya at her house, cuddling and watching movies. it had gotten really late and you both had training tomorrow, you would’ve stayed over but you thought you should go home so you could carpool with millie in the morning, having not spent time with her that day. and so, she drove you home and walked you to your door, stopping out the front.

when you moved in with millie, she insisted the two of you should get a ring camera, just for safety. you always forgot about it, millie checks it constantly claiming she cared about you and her safety.

when maya stops you at your door, she pulls you into a loving kiss, you lips moving together sweetly before she slips her tongue into your mouth, turning a little heated as you whine into her mouth. you pull away reluctantly, giving her multiple kisses all over her face, finishing off with a gentle one to her lips before quickly hugging her goodbye.

“i love you, baby” maya smiles at you, holding both of your hands, “i love you too, maya baby” you smile back adoringly, kissing her sweetly one more time as you wave her off. you enter the house with pink cheeks, heading to your room completely giddy, this girl had such an affect on you.

you and maya slept easy that night, whenever you saw each other it was just pure serotonin for the both of you. until the next morning when you awoke to over 99+ messages on your phone from the lioness group chat, you couldn’t help but think the worst.

you’re eyes widen when you see the topic of the group chat. millie had sent the video of you and maya saying goodbye to each other the night before, your eyes slightly widened. under millie’s video, she messaged. “well, leah, i told you i’d believe it when i see it and you were definitely right, i owe you $20” to which leah replied, “i fucking knew it, those little shits were dating the whole time” the whole group chat was blowing up, messages of “i knew it” and “no way” imbued in the chat.

you type out a quick, “we thought you all knew in our defence” maya quickly adds on, “took you all two years but whatever” the group chat blowing up again, you couldn’t help but laugh before millie bursts into your room, tackling you to your bed and play fighting with you.

“you’re a little shit! i was defending you and maya with my life saying you were just friends cause that’s what you told me!” both of your laughters completely filling the room. “i’m sorry! i’m sorry!” millie just laughs, getting off you and hurrying you to get dressed for training.

when you get there, maya was waiting for you in your cubby, standing up immediately when you enter the change room, holding her arms out for you with a soft smile. you walk into her embrace, breathing in her scent and holding her tightly. “at least they all know, love” maya giggles and you just nod, “they all know” you mirror her tone mockingly, to which she lightly pinches your hip.

millie walks in after you, “you’re not off the hook, le tissier” she points an accusing finger at you and your girlfriend and she nods in response, moving to sit down with you in her lap. she looks at you warmly, her smile still giving you butterflies. you lean into place a sweet kiss on her lips, and when you pull away, you hear some of your manchester teammates gasp, “you’re dating?!”

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s you!

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others

mayaletissier: my little koala

view all comments

yourname: you’re so girlfriend

↳ mayaletissier: well, i am your girlfriend

↳ yourname: my girlfriend ❤️

↳ mayaletissier: MY girlfriend ❤️

leahwilliamsonn: thanks to you two, i’m $20 richer

↳ millturner_: fuck off, williamson

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #maya le tissier #maya le tissier x reader

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screeching-bunny · 1 year

Note

Dark/yandere king x the queen's lady in waiting mc, perhaps with Anne boleyn vibes👑🌹♟️♥️

Saw the witch x priest post and I have to say that the morally grey protagonist is a really refreshing and unique take

Yandere! King pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

Even though you were never assigned to him Yandere! King couldn’t help but want to be by his side no matter what. You are the in-waiting for the queen, you’ve been with her for all her life and you adored her. She was strong willed and she was extremely intelligent. You’ve been by her side ever since you were young and have a tight bond with her. She was cold but you were happy to serve someone like her. Yandere! King was someone that people couldn’t be offended easily. When in his presence, everyone needed to watch their tongues if they wanted to keep it. He was a ruthless man who only cared about his own needs and goals. Even though he was married it was clear to see that the marriage was clearly political. There was no love between the two of them and they would almost daily cheat on each other. He sometimes even forgot that she existed. It was due to this loveless marriage that he became so interested in you.

Any normal person would be intimidated by this but you honestly didn’t care. If his attention would help you get a pay raise then let him stare at you all you want. In this economy, there was no way you were letting this money bag go. Something that you noticed about this man was that he was overly possessive and seemingly jealous of the things that he considered “his”. If he remotely took interest in something then it was his until he got bored and discards it. No one is dumb enough to stand in his way; he's cunning, backstabbing, and absolutely brutal. Morality means nothing when faced in his way.

Right now, your current situation was… strange. In a dining hall filled with luxurious food. There was a centerpiece in the middle of the table that no one could take their eyes off of.

“You’re majesty, please let me go! I repent, please forgive me for my sins! Please just don’t kill me!” The man screams with streams of tears pouring down his face. It was quite a pathetic sight to behold.

Yandere! King stared coldly at the man nailed down to the dining table. The look on his face could send shivers down anyone’s spine. He was absolutely pissed off right now. Aside from the man in the middle screaming, the room was filled with absolute silence as everyone held their breath. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Your highness please have mercy on my husband! He didn’t mean to! He wasn’t in the right mind! Please forgive him!” The man’s wife begged.

“Listen to him scream like a pig. He touched someone who belonged to me. A sin like that is unforgivable.” Looking your way the king says in a menacing voice. “Tell me where he touched you.” Oh boy, you knew for sure that this was about to get very bloody. Man you really wanted to leave right now. All you could do was hope that he’d increase your salary pay after this for compensation for having to witness this. Like yeah it sucked that someone was going to die right now but there’s no way that you’re quitting. This job paid way too much and you were way too money hungry to quit.

“Tell me where did he touch you? I’ll make sure to gouge out the exact body parts to match.”

“My cheek, my neck, my waist, and my thigh”

Giving you a dismissive look, the king finally allows you to finally leave. On your way out all you could hear were the screams of the man and the sound of ripping flesh. Thank god that was over, it was starting to get annoying. Now you might be wondering where was the queen in all of this? Well, she was with her lover of course! Like I said, the king and queens marriage was only a political one. As long as they didn’t bother each other or get into the other's business, then they did not care about what the other did. It was just truly a loveless marriage.

Making your way towards the queen’s chambers you begin to perform your daily duties. Mindless tasks that bore you to death. The only reason your pay was so good was because of how fond Yandere! King is of you. Any other person in your position would only get a fraction of your wage. You were a bit thankful for this because if he ever deemed you as boring and fired you. You’d still have enough money to live a fairly decent lifestyle. Something that you’ve learned while working for the royal family was that it was always best to stay away from their personal affairs. It gets real ugly once an outsider ever decides to interfere. You honestly wished you knew this before your parents forced you to sign up for this job. Maybe it would have saved you from an annoying king?

Sometimes he’d hand you little trinkets to indulge yourself in. It seemed that he was quite fond of observing you and witnessing your reaction to new devices. With someone like him running the country most people would think that it’d be in ruins. However, he’s definitely smart and knows how to run a country. It’s thanks to him that his kingdom has one of the best economies in the world.

Even though you were primarily assigned to the queen you saw Yandere! King more than her. To you, he was an obnoxious and dangerous figure. One that can easily win wars and conquer any land he so desires. He is a very selfish man that has a habit of being physically and emotionally manipulative. To be honest you can’t say you were any better. Oftentimes you’d use people to your own benefit but he’d definitely take it to the extreme. The amount of people that he used and discarded was insane. Weakness is a word that seems to be out of his dictionary.You could never tell what exactly he was thinking, he was like an enigma. One thing you were certain about was that with the rate of his obsession he’d never leave you alone.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere king #yandere oc #gn reader

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months

Text

Submission

Photography Professor!Fem!Reader x subby!student!Wanda

Word count: 1,060

Warnings: student teacher relationship, established relationship, W submits to R

Her eyes watched you from afar twice a week. Green emeralds trained on you as you walked back and forth talking about various photography methods. Today was specifically about filling a frame and how to do so properly.

As you continued to impart your knowledge on framing techniques, you couldn't help but notice how Wanda's dedication shone through her unwavering focus. Her presence in the classroom was a testament to her commitment to the craft. Her every movement calculated and deliberate, as if each second spent in your lecture, was a precious opportunity not to be squandered.

You knew some of these students were taking this class as an art elective, but this semester you had a good amount of actual photography majors one of them being Wanda Maximoff whose eyes don’t leave you the entire three hours of your lecture.

During the breaks, while other students dispersed, Wanda remained rooted in her seat, her gaze fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on fascination. It wasn't just admiration; there was something deeper in those emerald eyes, a hunger for knowledge, perhaps, or maybe a recognition of a kindred spirit in the realm of photography.

You looked through your papers and notes while snacking on something that required one hand. Today, you had a small bag of popcorn, and you noticed she had some apple slices today, which made you smile. She was behaving and listened to you when you told her that she should have healthier snacks during classes.

As it came up to the last hour of class, you began talking about a photo contest that everyone was welcome to enter into. You always loved contests and competitions. You especially loved seeing everyone’s submissions and the different approaches they would each take to different competitions.

“Alright class I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough. I’ll be passing out flyers for you to look over. The deadline is next Friday for the Fine Art Photography Competition. So, if you wish to participate, please hand in your photo to me before then, and if you’re picked, we will be going to Germany on an all expense paid trip. Your photo to be displayed for art critics and lovers alike to take notice of you. If you are chosen for some of you, this could be your big break into the art world.” You tell them, your heels clicking as you walk back and forth, your dark grey cardigan flowing behind you.

“Is there any specific theme we need to work with?” One of your students, Jean Gray, asked with a raised hand.

“No, so please, I implore you to work with your strong suits if you want to enter. The sky is the limit on this. Your eye and imagination are what will hold you back, but I believe in all of you.” You told them confidently and finished up answering any other questions before dismissing them for the day. “I will see you all on Tuesday. Have a good weekend, everyone.”

They all filed out as you sat back at your desk, pushing your glasses up on top of your head as you look at the papers on your desk, reading through the students latest works and quizzes from Tuesday that needed to be done by next Tuesday along with ones needed tomorrow for your Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes. You hear a pair of boots walking towards you. You don’t have to look up to know who is standing in front of you,

“Yes Wanda can I help you?” You say keeping your gaze on the papers in front of you, marking them as you go and looking at the photographs that go with the assignments. Grading art, even after going through getting your Master of Fine Arts and teaching for a few years now, grading artwork wasn’t always so easy.

“Ms. Y/L/N...” You flick your eyes up just enough to see she’s playing with the hem of her skirt, pulling it up ever so slightly as she does so. You take your eyes off her thighs that you just want to bury your face in. You know better, though; not here, never here. Now she’s pulling her sleeves over her hands as she begins. “I...I want to enter the competition, but...” Her words trail off as you finally huff out, tearing your eyes away from your paperwork.

“Wanda. Words. Use them.” You say a little frustrated with her. You see her bite her lip, and for you that’s strike three of her anxious habits. “Come here.” You command, moving yourself back from the desk, turning your chair to the side so she can stand in front of you, which she does without need for more words. “Kneel.” You tell her, and she does so. You smile at her easy submission to you. She had always been so pliable for you. “There now that you’re where you belong. Do you feel better?” You ask, tilting her chin up so her eyes meet with your own.

“Yes.” She smiles up at you, you can see how she’s calmed just from the small form of dominance over her, sometime it was all she needed for her head to clear up and the thoughts to quiet down even if it’s only for a little bit.

“Good now, what is it about the photo competition that’s bothering you so much, sweet girl?” You ask, running your fingers through her hair as she sets her chin against your thighs. She gently tilts her head so she can look up at you.

“Well my specialty like yours is boudoir photography. Is it okay to submit something like that?” You smirk, continuing to run your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scratch gently at her scalp. She closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling.

“Yes just not too risky, okay, pretty girl? Also, the picture better not be of you. Your body is my eyes only.” You tell her, and she smiles with a nod. “I need to get back to these papers and you,” You boop her nose, “need to get to your next class so off you go little one. I’ll see you tonight.” She smiles, getting up. You pull her back in for a chaste kiss before letting her head off with the promise of seeing you later.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #subby!wanda #professor!reader #professor!au #wanda maximoff x female reader

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sansaorgana · 11 days

Note

Oh my God!!

"You talked in your sleep... do you really love me?"

With Buck Cleven X reader, please?? Maybe reader is his best friend and sometimes talks in her sleep? So, best friends to lovers?? Please you'd cure my depression 😭😍

Love you & thank you 💕

hiii I'm so sorry you had to wait so long 😭 does anyone even still remember me omg 😫 thank you for your request! I didn't use this exact quote but the situation is the same and The Reader is a nurse here 😷

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Working as a nurse and befriending some of these boys, you mostly dreaded the day when one of them would come to you in a state that was doomed. To stare at your dying friend in pain, knowing you can’t do anything about it… That was keeping you awake at night. It was already difficult enough already to witness the boys you didn’t know at all die like this and not be able to help. But a vision of one of your friends in this situation was impossible to handle at times.

The one you worried about the most was Major Gale Cleven, the one everyone kept calling Buck. But you were the only person who still was calling him Gale. He was your friend from the moment he showed up. Handsome, charming but in a quiet way, kind-hearted and very responsible. You admired the way he was with his boys; like an older brother they could look up to. And not long time had passed until you realised you were actually in love with him.

Of course you would never admit that. But it made you smile when the boys admitted you were their favourite nurse, when they were treating you like the female equivalent of Gale Cleven at the base. Almost as if you were playing house with him with a bunch of pilots who were like your sons.

But loving a pilot was a dangerous business for the heart. Not that love could have been prevented. You had no control over that. But at least it was unrequited – in other circumstances you would cry your heart out into your pillow at night for loving someone who didn’t reciprocate his feelings. But this time it was for the better.

Yet, when you found him in the med bay after one of the missions, your heart skipped a beat. Your friend was talking to him softly, his face was in blood. You approached them immediately, ignoring other patients waiting for your care and attention.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You asked, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“His plane got hit,” your friend explained. “He managed to come back and land safely with a concussion, can you imagine?” The admiration in her voice made you feel jealous and you hated this side of you. She had every right to admire him for this sort of achievement. “I have to clean the wounds on his face. Poor lad, they’re gonna leave scars.”

“I’ll do it,” you dismissed her and moved past her, nearly pushing her away. She was surprised at your reaction but she didn’t have time to think about it or comment because other patients needed her.

So, she left you alone with Gale. His beautiful eyes were hazy from the concussion and probably a state of shock his body was in. He wouldn’t be able to fly a plane with a concussion if not for the adrenaline in his blood system.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly when you started to clean the wounds on his face gently. They were not very deep but they caused lots of bleeding and your friend was right; some of them would leave scars. Not that you minded, you only hoped he wouldn’t grow insecure because of them. “You’ve gained some scars, brave fly boy,” you chuckled nervously but he only looked at you like he didn’t recognise you. “It’s okay. You’ll sleep it off,” you caressed his hair gently.

He was confused and in pain but yet, you hated yourself for kind of liking this version of Gale Cleven. Not only was he even more adorable than usual but also you could allow yourself the gestures you would never do if he was acting like himself.

When his face was clean and you washed some of his hair, too – the parts that got stuck together with blood, you laid him down gently and smiled softly at his handsome face. He reached his hand out as if he wanted you to hold it. An unusual thing to do, which made your heart flutter in your chest, but you tried to remember that he was not acting sane at the moment. Still, you gently took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. You decided to be with him until he’d wake up. Even if it would be the whole rest of the day and a night.

“Other boys need you,” the doctor approached you with a furrowed brow.

“He needs me the most,” you looked up.

“Cleven had a slight concussion, he will be absolutely fine,” the doctor insisted.

You knew that he was right and you didn’t want to act suspicious, so you sighed and squeezed Gale’s hand before leaving his side to go back to work. However, you worked as fast as you could, not even talking to the boys you were taking care of, just focusing purely on your job. And when you were finished, you went back to Gale’s bed and sat on the edge to watch over him. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

His wounds still kept bleeding a little here and there so you continued to clean them once in a while. And in his sleep, he sometimes moved, so you were putting your hand on his forehead, trying to calm him down and make sure he didn’t have a fever. Bucky checked on him in the meantime.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he winked at you and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Did he know…? Were you that obvious?

“It’s nothing. He always takes care of all of you boys. I can see that and they always tell me that. Even today, the guys from his fort were asking me to take extra care of Major Cleven,” I answered with all honesty.

“Yeah, they look up to him. What he did today was… incredible,” Bucky nodded. “When they landed, he didn’t even recognise me but a few minutes earlier he had been flying the goddamn plane in this state.”

“It was shock and adrenaline,” you explained. “He could have forgotten us but not how to survive and fly,” you added with a smile. “Or he’s a natural. Maybe he was born and already knew how to fly.”

“Believe me, he didn’t,” Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “I remember our early days… He didn’t.”

“Okay,” you giggled and squeezed Gale’s hand tighter. You imagined what he had to be like in the early days of his training. He had to be adorable; a bit scared but also full of hope and optimism, that boyish excitement. “Thanks for checking up on him. When he wakes up, I’ll tell him you came.”

“If he recognises us,” Bucky made a joke and walked out of the med bay but it left you anxious now. He was right. The doctor had said it was a slight concussion but… What if Gale would wake up and not recognise any of you?

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t realise he was having a dream again. You only reacted when he started to mumble some incoherent things.

“Shh, Gale, shh, it’s fine,” you whispered softly when you leaned in to see his face better and put both of your hands on his wounded cheeks, delicately, avoiding to cause him any further pain.

“...Her…” He mumbled, his words suddenly making sense. You furrowed your brow. “I love her.”

You swallowed thickly at those words. It was only a dream, right? It didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t be in love with someone else…?

You shook it off. What were you even thinking of? What did it matter? You were not together and you would never be.

But then, Gale mumbled your name. Yours, not anyone else’s. You had to blink a few times and catch your breath all over again. And when you thought it had all been a mistake, he mumbled it out again and and again and then…

“I love her,” he repeated.

However, he seemed to be in a great torment because of whatever the dream was about. So, with a heavy heart, you shook his shoulders a little, forcing him to come back to reality.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly as his eyes widened. “Welcome back, soldier. Do you know where you are?”

“Wh-what happened?” He sat up rapidly, his hands immediately going to his face as if he wanted to check if everything was in its place.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” You asked, adjusting yourself on the edge of his bed to be closer to him.

“We got hit… Oh my God… We got hit!” He panicked but you shushed him. Other boys were asleep and you didn’t want them to wake up or be alarmed by his attack.

“It’s fine, hey, Gale, it’s okay. Everyone from your fort is fine and you know why…?” You asked with a gentle smile. He shook his head. “Because you safely took them home and landed that goddamn plane even though you had concussion and didn’t know your own name,” you tried to sound casual but the pride in your voice was more than obvious.

“I… I did that?” He asked. “No way.”

“Yeah, you did,” you laughed. “And I cleaned your face, it was all bloody. You’re gonna have some scars,” you explained. “Want a mirror?”

“I don’t think so,” Gale winced as his fingertips traced the wounds. He hissed out of pain so you grabbed his wrists and took the hands away from his face.

“Don’t. They’re still fresh. But not so bad, I’ve seen worse,” you tried to cheer him up. “In fact, I think, you’re gonna look amazing,” you winked and he sighed. “You remember me, right?”

“What? What are you talking about? Of course I do,” he furrowed his brows as his eyes looked worried.

“Yeah, but after you landed, you didn’t. You didn’t even know who Bucky was. He was here, you know. Checking on you. And all the boys from your fort were so worried about you. You’re a real leader,” you squeezed his hands but he didn’t say anything to these things. Praises were making him blush and he did now as well, looking away.

“Well, thanks for taking care of me,” he finally looked at you again.

“No problem. You wanted me to stay, reaching your hands out like a little boy,” you chuckled nervously. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring this up.

“Yeah, well, I had to feel lonely when I couldn’t recognise anyone. Even when I can, I often feel lonely,” he admitted with a shrug of his arms. “We’re so far away from home, from our families. The boys are like family, too, but every day can be their last. And men… Well, we don’t really…” He tried to look for words.

“Hold each other’s hands?” You asked and he nodded. You squeezed his hands again. “You talked in your sleep,” you brought that up, encouraged by his last confession.

“Oh dear God…” Gale rolled his eyes, visibly embarrassed. “What about?”

“You were talking about some girl that you love,” you teased him, grinning and winking playfully, pretending to be a teasing friend and hiding the nervousness. “She happens to have the same name as me or something.”

You expected him to be defensive or laugh at you. You would push his shoulder gently and tell him that you had been joking. But he didn’t react like that at all. In fact, he took his hands away as if your touch burnt him and he cleared his throat nervously.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Can we… Can we pretend you’ve never heard that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You kept staring at him in disbelief and bit on your lower lip.

“How?” You asked, feeling a sudden outburst of bravery in you. If Gale could have flown a plane with a concussion, you could say what you wanted to say. “How am I supposed to pretend I have never heard that? When that’s… That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

Gale looked up at you as if he had to check with his own eyes if you weren’t joking. But you were dead serious.

“So don’t pretend,” he finally spoke up and reached out for your hand again. His fingers were cold and shaky. You intertwined them with yours. “But I didn’t want to do anything until… Well, I planned to ask you to dance with me at the party after my 25th mission. But I never wanted to let you know before that because if I died…”

“If you died, I would never know,” you looked up to meet his gaze with tears pricking your eyes. “And you think that’s fair? You think it would make it easier for me? It would not.”

“I’m sorry,” Gale swallowed thickly. “Are you angry with me?”

“For that? No. For nearly dying today? Yes,” you nodded and wiped your tears away with your free hand.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposed, looking at you with pain in his eyes. He hated to see you so sad and crying… Especially when it was caused by him. “Let’s not… Let’s not do anything about it until I’ve done my missions, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded through the tears. “But… What if you don’t finish them…?”

“Well, then, we’re both gonna die without ever kissing each other,” he lowered his voice even though all the other nurses were out of the med bay and other patients were asleep. “But… That doesn’t sound right to me.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me either,” you admitted.

“Then come here,” he encouraged you to get closer. “Just one kiss.”

“A promise of many more, I hope. Not the last one,” you said in a shaky voice but he only nodded his head because that was a promise he couldn’t make.

If it depended on him, he would. He would swear on everything. But it depended on things much bigger than you or him. On things he couldn’t control nor prevent.

He cupped your face delicately, as if it were you with the wounds on your cheeks, and he joined your lips in a sweet kiss, even though it tasted salty from all your tears.

“Just don’t die,” you breathed out when the kiss ended. “Just don’t die and the rest I can fix and endure.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader #gale cleven x reader

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 7 months

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 26

Part 1 Part 25

“We can’t just make Steve wait even longer because some stupid kids–” Eddie yells.

“Keyword kids, Munson,” Chief Hopper shouts back.

“–got themselves in a little bit of trouble!”

“You mean the goddamn Feds staking out their houses? With guns?” Chief Hopper asks. “That’s the ‘little trouble’ you’re talking about?”

“Why is that my proble–”

“Eddie,” Will says.

Eddie stops pacing the length of the living room to look down at where Will’s curled up on the couch, hunching in as the voices raise. He sighs, ragged and angry, but sits on the couch, flapping his hand dismissively toward Chief Hopper. “Just fucking go,” he says meanly. “You were always going to.”

“Boy,” Wayne says, warningly.

Eddie groans. “Fine, just hurry, okay?” Eddie’s nails are ragged from chewing on them. He doesn’t look up as his uncle and Chief Hopper leave the house.

Mom, Jonathan, Barbara, and Nancy are hunched over at the table drinking coffee and analyzing the maps of the areas surrounding the lab. Will feels like his intestines are tying themselves in knots. Mike could be being held at gunpoint by now with the rest of his friends.

Steve’s still stuck on the other side, thirsty and hungry and running for his life. And alone.

Eddie jumps up and starts pacing again, running his hand through his greasy hair. Some of it comes out in a clump when his fingers get caught in a knot. He looks like he’s unraveling. Without Steve, there’s nothing anchoring him here. Will’s afraid he’ll float away.

“You’re not the only one worried, you know,” Nancy says curtly, not even looking up from the map in front of her.

Eddie stops in his tracks. “Excuse me?” he demands.

“Nancy,” Jonatha warns.

“My parents' house is being watched,” she says, using her level voice like a weapon. “Mike is out there, trapped and defenseless.”

“Yeah, but–”

“And I care about Steve, too,” she snaps.

Eddie’s fingers curl into fists at his sides, one of his fingers sticking out strangely, like it can’t quite curl like the rest of them.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, but he does sit down, teeth grinding hard enough to be audible.

They go back to waiting in silence. It doesn’t last long.

The door bursts open, people pouring in. Mike first, standing by a girl with a shaved head that WIll doesn’t recognize, Lucas and Dustin hot on their heels.

It’s Lucaus who spots him first, yelling, “Will!” and colliding with him with enough force to send him sprawling partially on top of Eddie. More arms follow one after another. Dustin, then Will’s, until they’re all piled onto the too-small couch, sending Eddie falling off the side with an oof.

Voices overlap, demanding answers Will’s not sure how to answer, where to start. He feels his breathing hitch.

“Alright, back off kiddies, let him breathe!” Eddie says, pulling bodies away from Will until he’s got a little bubble around himself.

Dustin still has his palm on Will’s calf, like he can’t help himself, while Lucas and Mike look at Eddie distrustfully. “Who are you?” Mike demands.

“Mike!” Nancy reprimands, making him whirl around.

“Nancy?” he asks, incredulous, seemingly only now noticing that his sister was in the room.

She rolls her eyes, looking back down to the table.

Knowing the signs of a Wheeler verbal smackdown when he sees it, Will says, “this is Eddie,” shrinking in on himself a bit when they all turn to him. “He saved my life.”

“Cool,” Dustin breathes, but Lucas’s eyes only narrow further.

“In the Upside Down?” Mike asks.

“That what you all are calling the parallel world?” Eddie asks, swinging his legs out from under his to sit cross cross.

Mike nods, “yeah,” he says. “Where the Demogorgon comes from.”

“Do none of you twerps know what a Demogorgon looks like?” Eddie asks, everyone ignores him.

“So everything is okay now?” Lucas asks. “We can go home?”

Chief Hopper, having made his way inside to loom over them all in the living room with his arms crossed as Wayne closes the door behind them, says, “no way kid. The Feds are swarming your houses.”

“Oh, man,” Lucas says, head in hands. “I’m so grounded.”

“And we’re not leaving Steve,” Eddie says, glaring up at Chief Hopper as Wayne rolls his eyes in the doorway.

“Steve?” Mike demands, whipping his head around to glare at Will. “Nancy’s stupid boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Will nods. “He saved my life too."

Mike glares at him the way he always does right before he folds. He sighs, slumping down like Will had just asked him to do something abhorrent. “Ughhh, fiiiine. We’ll save stupid Steve Harrington.”

“You kids aren’t saving anyone,” Wayne says, shuffling into the kitchen and accepting the cup of coffee Joyce hands him with a smile. “We’ll get him.”

Chief Hopper asks, “any idea where he’ll be in there?”

“I might know a way we can find out,” Mike says, turning to the unnamed girl where she’s standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, clutching at the hem of her dirty pink dress. “Can you find him?”

She looks scared to have all the eyes on her, but nods, looking down. “I will find him.”

Part 27

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #my fic #it's 4 a.m. and I'm at the airport. enjoy <3

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aemondsquill · 1 year

Text

In Honor's Name

Aemond Targaryen × Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your new husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen, is truly an enigma. While he is cold and dismissive, he also proves to be quite the formidable protector of his lady wife

A/N: reader is from an unspecified House and has no physical descriptions

Warnings: Aemond's rizz is atrocious, violence, toxic relationship, hurt/comfort, Aemond IS a WIFE GUY, slight angst, floooof, implications of smut

Aemond Targaryen was not known for wearing his heart on his sleeve; actually it was quite the contrary, much to the dismay of his brand new wife. Attempting any form of conversation with the man was like yanking nails. He only gave one word answers or hum in response.

However, while he was not gifted in the arts of wooing his wife with his words, Y/N appreciated just how physically attentive he was. A gentle hand on her lower back when he guided her through the halls of the Keep, his fingers resting on her knee during long dinners, or his presence looming over her shoulder at banquets and feasts. These touches were the only indication that he even tolerated her.

----

Y/N was in no mood for the festivities laid out before her. Aegon decided to throw another feast for whichever unknown Lord's nameday or birth of an heir or perhaps he was just bored. Aemond, as always, was seated next to her. If he had not helped Y/N into her own seat, she would not even had known that he was there. The silence between them seemed to be even more stifling than the obnoxious noises of merriment that echoed through the great hall.

Y/N glared at the couples dancing, envious that they seemed to be enjoying themselves. She learned the hard way that Aemond does not dance. A sharp 'no' from his lips when she invited him to dance on their wedding day was enough to discourage her from ever asking again.

'How lucky am I to be married to such a bland brooding man?' She thought scornfully. He was confusing with his gentle touches, but harsh words and Y/N was done trying to figure him out. She would only do her duty: be a loyal wife and produce an heir or two. It wasn't much of a life, but there were worse ways to live.

Y/N reached for her cup, full of a dark Dornish red, and drank it greedily. The wine was delightfully bitter on her tongue.

Soon enough, a buzz flowed through her veins like warmed honey and made her brain slightly heavy. Y/N's spirits were lifted as the music swelled and the laughter all around her felt contagious.

With a new surge of confidence, Y/N turned to her ever-stoic husband. He eyed her curiously at her sudden movement.

"I supposed I shan't ask you for a dance, Lord husband, allow me to take my leave so I may find a willing partner." Without waiting for a response, Y/N shot out of her seat and grasped her velvety skirts and stalked towards Tyland Lannister.

Aemond's mouth gaped, slightly resembling a fish plucked out of the water. He could only watch helplessly as his wife, giggling and eyes shining, began an elegant waltz with the Lannister.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fork tightly, jealousy boiling in his chest at the site of Tyland gripping his wife's waist and twirling her about.

Perhaps Aemond deserved to watch his wife fall for another. He knew he had not been a doting husband, but at least he wasn't cruel. He just felt uncomfortable expressing his affection for his Y/N!

Aemond would not accept the consequences of his own actions. She was his and everyone in the Keep would know it, especially that slimy cunt Tyland.

His anger was only spurred on when he watched the Lannister grip Y/N's arm tightly and whisper a salacious secret into her ear. Her face contorted in offense, causing Aemond to nearly leap over the table in front of him.

In a split second, Aemond was nose to nose with blond Lannister.

"I will fucking tear your eyes out of your head and force them down your throat if you so much as glance at my wife again." Even Y/N felt the chill of fear tingle her spine at Aemond's threat. Tyland only smirked at the brutal confrontation. Copious amounts of wine and ale only made Tyland more bold. And foolish.

Aemond placed his hand on the small of her back, more forcefully than usual.

"Come, wife, allow me to escort you to your chambers."

"Perhaps if you weren't such a frigid cunt maybe your wife wouldn't seek company elsewhere. Leave her to me and trust she will be taken care of."

Y/N felt the surge of humiliation warm her cheeks at Tyland's horrific words. The anger rolled off Aemond's shoulders in heavy waves as Tyland tugged Y/N back into his chest and continued his vicious tirade.

"Unhand my wife and I shall reward you with a swift death."

"I heard your wife has the sweetest cunt in Westeros", his nose grazed along her neck, inhaling her scent. "I wish to taste her."

A vile glint flashed across Aemond's violet eye and in an instant he yanked Y/N out of Tyland's arms, tossing her carelessly as he pursued the Lannister further.

Y/N yelped as she stumbled to the stony floor. She could only watch in horror as her husband's hands wrapped around Tyland's throat so hard that the veins bulged.

"I am the only one who will taste my wife's cunt."

Tyland's face turned red, then blue, then an ugly shade of purple as Aemond's hands slowly squeezed the life out of him. Tyland feebly attempted to grip Aemond's arms, chest, anything he could get his hands on as he crumpled to the floor.

"She tastes of the sweetest honey. She will only bear my heirs. She is mine and only mine." Y/N couldn't help the feeling of her cheeks flush at Aemond's obscene flattery.

Aemond did not let up his assault. Instead, the bulging of Lord Lannister's eyes seemed to egg him on to press harder and harder.

Y/N shouted for the nearby guards to stop her husband from killing his House's ally.

It took nearly four men to wretch Aemond away from the scoundrel. Once he stood he shrugged off their hands and immediately stalked towards Y/N. Her eyes widened in fear as she stumbled backwards slightly. Her flinch halted Aemond in his tracks briefly, a pang rattled his chest painfully. His little display of violence and jealousy only scared his beloved wife.

Aemond took a couple more steps, this time with caution so as not to frighten her more before placing his hand on her back.

"Let us retire, little wife." And she allowed him to guide her back to her chambers in silence.

The winding corridors allowed her to replay the scene over and over in her head. Never had she seen Aemond react to anything in such a way. Nor had he spoken this many words to her in the few months they had been married.

They reached the large oak doors of Y/N's chambers and Aemond ushered her inside.

"You should not have done that. You could have killed him."

Aemond regarded her coldly, "I wish I did. I wish everyone in that hall witnessed me killing him." Y/N rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. Aemond approached her and reached for her hand, but she pulled away before speaking sternly at him.

"No. You do not get to touch me after embarrassing your House like that and nearly killing a man!"

"I was defending your honor! Tis my duty as your husband!" He snarled. He reached out and grabbed at her again, this time pulling her into his chest and she squirmed against him.

"Stop resisting me. I wish to hold my wife and I shall do so!"

Never had Aemond been so vocal and obvious about his affection towards her. It threw Y/N into a whirlwind of emotion.

Finally, she stopped fighting against him and met his glare with her own. The two breathed heavily against each other, neither used to such intimate proximity outside of fucking.

"I have been damned by the gods to love you."

Y/N scoffed. "I never knew you could be so romantic. First you nearly kill a man, now you're saying you hate loving me."

Aemond closed his eye and sighed, mentally kicking himself for his fumbled words. His arm tightend around her waist. Y/N was annoyed at the warmth that flooded her chest at the feeling.

"I love you, little wife. So much so, my words seemed to escape me, but it's true. In the short time we've been married I have fallen deeper than I can possibly fathom. It frightens me. Seeing Tyland Lannister put his hands on you drove me to the brink of madness. I would kill a thousand men and their widows if you asked me to."

Y/N's eyes softened at his clumsy declaration. In his own strange and murderous way, he held a great affection for her and Y/N's heart melted at the thought.

She brushed a lock of hair out of his eye, sighing.

"You know you cannot kill every man who speaks to me."

"I know, but I can kill most of them." She chuckled at his attempt at a jest.

Aemond found himself not able to resist any longer. He kissed her soft supple lips with fervor. Y/N moaned softly in delight.

"I have to make good on a promise I made to that Lannister cunt, little wife."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #idiots in love

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