#I mean the suggestions were horrible at best

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Somehow, the post editor has stopped giving me suggestions on typing tags.

It already didn't show tags with capital letters (?) and now the others are gone as well.

I can't fucking work like this *flips table*

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??

Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.

It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.

When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.

Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"

"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"

"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.

"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.

"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.

"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...

"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."

You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."

"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.

You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"

The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."

You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."

"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."

"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."

"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"

You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"

He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."

"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.

"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"No, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"

"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—

Oh shit.

You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.

“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot.  “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”

“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally.  “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”

“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”

“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something?  How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”

“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”

He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip.  “Would you please shut the drawer?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?

“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.

He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.

“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.

“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”

You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that.  “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done.  Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”

He nodded.  “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”

His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.

“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”

“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.

“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.

“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”

You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly.  “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that.  For fun.  It looks like it would break you.”

You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy.  “What, you want me to prove it?”

His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you.  “I’d like to see you try.”

Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer.  He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.

You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.

His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself. 

After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh.  He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself.  When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.

You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet.  You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before.  It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was.  Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone.  Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.

Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.

It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed.  You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.

Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now.  It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight.  You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.

“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you. 

“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”

“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.

Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.

“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.

You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you.  But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out.  Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax.  The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust. 

Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you.  “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster.  “Feels so fucking good…”

He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again.  It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college.  But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself.  It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control.  Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.

Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…

You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake.  “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.

“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”

He laughed a little.  “So polite,” he cooed.  “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told.  His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined. 

“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.

You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.

“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly.  “Right now?  Can you come on that fake cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever.  “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”

“Good,” he praised again.  “Let me see you come, honey.”

Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.

Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises.  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.

You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.

Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way.  “You normally come that fast for a toy?”

You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath.  “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”

“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“Shut up,” you sighed.  “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”

“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.

Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.

“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened.  He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.

Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression.  Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”

A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.

“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.

You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that.  You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight.  “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.

“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before.  Fuck.  That’s incredible.”

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye.  “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.

Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his.  He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.

The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow.  The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him.  “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw.  “Not here—your parents—”

“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”

“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”

“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath.  He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter.  “You want me too,” you noticed.

“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down.  “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked.  “Were you?”

“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily.  “But if they found out—”

“So?  They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”

“But this is different,” he insisted.

“How?”

“Because this…”

He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.

“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.

“You were saying?” you teased.

“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl.  Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”

You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him.  “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked.  “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”

“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.

“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled.  “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”

He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently.  Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real. 

Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly.  The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.

“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.

“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”

He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.

One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance.  When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways.  “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”

He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said.  He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you.  “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before.  You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.

Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it.  He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy.  The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more.  “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already.  He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair.  He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently. 

“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin. 

“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly. 

“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you.  He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that?  What do you want me to do?”

That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it.  “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”

He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too.  “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me.  You look so pretty when you come…”

“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.

He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going.  When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.

“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”

You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”

“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy. 

Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him.  You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all.  This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee).  This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.

“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.

Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.  “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.

“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”

“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.

“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.

“You’re on—”

“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.

You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look.  Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way.  He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him.  He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.

“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.

“Probably a little,” you shrugged.

“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”

“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.

He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.

“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.

“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you.  This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.

“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.

He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”

[saerotonins]

in a world full of boys, he's a gentleman

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

— in which kento unintentionally proves how much of a husband material he is.

content warnings: fluff, smut, light angst, suggestive, making out, nanami kento being a certified hubby, fiancée!kento, weddings, mentions/implied slut-shaming, reader has horrible relatives, reader is described to be non-traditional, riding, p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, curses still exist but nobody dies (yay!) and geto is mentally fine and a teacher at jujutsu tech <33, im so in love with him, some can be considered bare minimum and subtle but idc if he does it he's the standard, kento loves it when you're checking him out, just kento being a gentleman, kento is so in love with you, you you and you in his mind, reader is just as the same btw, corny ass vow (idk how to write one srry)

wc: 5591 (holy shit lol)

note: im!! so!! head!! over!! heels!!! with!! this!! man!! (it's really not that obvious, right?) he's so dreamy he deserves a lot of kissy kisses and a ticket to malaysia <33 also!! just realized this is my first piece for 2024 tehehe happy new year, everyone! 🎀🎆

best enjoyed with: slut! - taylor swift

that time when you both went out for a picnic

the sunset paints the sky with the most vibrant colors as you and kento bask in each other's presence and sit on a picnic blanket, surrounded by the quiet sways of the green grass, accompanied by some people who decided to hang out around the vicinity.

it's one of those days that kento is blessed by once in a blue moon break from being a jujutsu sorcerer. kendo's always grateful to have this kind of day because it would mean that his hands would spend their time stealing soft touches against your skin instead of fighting curses.

a faint clink can be heard when you and kento toast your glasses together, half filled with your favorite champagne. it's a tad bit sweet to kento's liking as he is not good with sweets, but he opted to bring it to your picnic instead of his favorite whiskey because he knows you love it. 

kento watches you put your lips on the champagne flute and drink your sweet alcohol with glee. he takes a small sip from his as he stares at you with admiration. 

satisfied with your drink, you set it aside on your coaster as you lean your head on kento's shoulders. "such a lovely day, isn't it?" you say while you close your eyes, soaking in the remaining rays of the sunshine before it sleeps, allowing the night to take over the sky.

kento hums in approval as he puts his free hand on your head, giving it gentle and loving pats as he rests his head against yours, but not before giving you a quick peck. "we should do this more often," 

"i agree; you should ditch gojo more and spend more time with me," you joked, and you heard your fiancée chuckle, "that wouldn't be so professional of me, darling," it's your turn to let out a chuckle.

"it's gojo; being professional is already out of the window." 

"you're right, maybe i should," kento jested back.

the two of you just sat in comfortable silence until a slightly strong gust of wind blew in your direction. caught by the shock of it all, you close your eyes and hold your sundress down to avoid flashing the strangers. but before you could even do it, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

kento had covered you, so any speck of dust blown by the wind wouldn't be able to get into your eyes. your sundress is also held down by his knees between your legs. when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by your fiancée's face close to yours, assessing you. you suddenly feel your stomach tumble and fill with butterflies.

"are you okay? didn't get anything in your eyes?" he says gently, eyes observing you with worry. you give him a slight nod, "mhm, i'm fine kento, how about you?" kento answered with a hum as he tried to fix your dress and some parts of the picnic blanket that was slightly blown away by the wind.

"i think that's the cue for us to pack up, or do you want to stay for a while?" kento asks you while he starts to pack up some of your stuff into the picnic bag. "we should stay until the sun completely sets, it's a shame to leave while the sky looks pretty." 

kento nods and finishes packing before he sits beside you, looking at the view. he then makes your head lean on his shoulders once again, his hands caressing the top of your head. "yeah, i agree, the sky looks pretty." he states.

he feels you nod and continues, "but you're prettier to look at," he says as he looks down at you and to his surprise, he meets your eyes on him. "i could say the same to you, kento," you say before capturing his lips against yours.

kento smiles on your lips before reciprocating your gesture, slightly tasting the remnants of your sweet champagne earlier. 

and at that moment, he thought, it doesn't matter if his tongue tasted something so sweet, as long as it's from your lips.

that time when you went christmas shopping

the mall filled with bustling crowds is not a perfect way to spend time with your fiancée. but when this is the only time your schedules align to go for a last-minute shopping to buy gifts for your loved ones, you don't really have a choice.

kento especially noticed how much you were on edge today despite being excited to buy gifts for everyone especially his mentees. you weren't the type to enjoy a busy crowd, so he knows how to elevate your stress.

store after store, he gave you every opinion he had (that you asked for) ever so gently and thoroughly but not too much to overwhelm you since you're technically a ticking time bomb now. kento was attentive at every store you went to and immediately picked out gifts you thought were best to give. he stood up in the busy and long line as he let you sit on the lounge chair present in the store. 

by the time you're done shopping, he carries all the bags and refuses to give you any (even the small ones). and when you insist, he gives you an offended look, telling you he can manage. 

while you're walking to leave the mall, your stares don't go unnoticed by your fiancée as he sees you mindlessly gawking at his arms that flex every time he has to fix the bags while walking. 

and that makes carrying your shopping bags even more worth it to him.

that time when you got drunk at a new year's party

gojo has set a new year's party that includes everyone in jujutsu tech in one of his vacation homes in japan. it was supposed to be a reasonably small party but this is gojo satoru we're talking about; he's going to be extra about anything and everything.

the party is semi-formal and requires everyone to dress up nicely. kento does not enjoy parties, but seeing you dress up in a pretty dress that enhances your assets makes him think that attending this event has benefits too.

the party wasn't uneventful per se, but despite the semi-formal wear that everyone was rocking, the event itself was casual. the house was filled with laughter and noise, mainly from the students and everyone else sharing stories and conversing. an hour or two into the party, you and kento decided to part ways as you go on your way to interact with gojo, geto, and shoko.

kento trusted you enough to be alone with them so he opted to talk with some of his colleagues whose presence calms him (obviously not gojo). he spent his time talking with higuruma, sharing ideals and mundane stuff they both enjoyed doing. it was a calming conversation for both men, who wanted peace and tranquility.

"there's this store that sells rare vintage vinyl; i think you'll love to shop there," higuruma suggests as they talk about collecting vinyl, a hobby they share. kento was about to reply, but even before he opened his mouth, he heard a very loud— 

"nanamin!" which made both men turn their heads in the direction where the sound came from.

the voice no doubt belonged to itadori, his face painted with concern as he rushed to kento's area. "what is it itadori?" he asked the young man the moment he arrived while panting.

"your wife! she's—" before itadori can even finish his sentence, kento's already sprinting to where you are, itadori following suit.

kento doesn't need to know what he needs to say; the worry on itadori's face, accompanied by your name, is enough for him to look for you.

turns out you're drunk of your mind. 

when kento arrives in gojo's kitchen, it's just you and him having a very drunk and heated argument about whether cereal or milk comes first.

"no! that's so stupid, cereal should come first, think about it you stupid idiot, if you pour milk first, you'll miss the chance to fill the bowl with so much cereal!" your fiancée sees you standing on gojo's kitchen island alongside him, slurring your words as you sway the glass of wine in the air, threateningly spilling as you keep on moving.

gojo scoffs at your argument, "maybe t'was the point! it's all about ratio, how else can you enjoy cereal when there's too much cereal and little room for milk!" he barks back, holding a—

is that a massive cup of sunrise tequila? no wonder he got so drunk, kento thought as he sighed.

"there's no such thing as ratio for you, gojo! you're the same person who adds too much pineapple on pizza that it becomes disgusting!" you shouted at gojo's face as you continuously pointed at his chest with your index finger.

across the kitchen island stood geto and shoko with unamused faces, looking like they were just waiting for everything to die down on its own. kento sighs and asks them, "did they have an alcohol-drinking battle again?" and all they reply is a solid nod.

"gojo got too competitive and drank that sweet poison, which led to this... argument," shoko adds, looking at both you and gojo incredulously. "they immediately started gulping down the alcoholic drinks right after midnight," geto said, a chuckle threatening to leave his lips.

"please help me break them up," your fiancée kindly pleads to geto and shoko. they immediately showed empathy to their former junior and decided to hold gojo back together while kento held onto you.

it took almost half an hour to break you and gojo apart, not to mention the commotion and your silly drunk discussions that blew out of proportion because the both of you are just so passionate and no one would back down without a fight. after successfully separating the two of you, kento immediately guided you away from the party and to your car, not without leaving shy goodbyes to the people he would face along the way.

the drive back home was thankfully not chaotic, but it was definitely filled with your drunken chatter as you slur words kento can barely make out.

getting you to your shared home was relatively easy; you were patient enough to let kento walk you off to the front door and remove your heels before gently placing you on the couch. 

he was about to let go and grab some water until you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to your face; kento felt his heart race. "hey there," you whispered against his lips, distance threateningly close.

kento could smell the alcohol on your breath, probably a mixture of beer, wine, and then some. still, he couldn't bring himself to care when he knew your lips would probably taste slightly sweet. "have you ever been this handsome, kento?" you ask, your voice dripping honey despite being out of your mind, trapped in your own drunken bubble.

"maybe that's just the alcohol's doing, darling," he jokes.

"no no, i think i already saw this face years ago."

"really?"

"really. you look even more handsome now, you should give me a kiss," you say as you pucker your lips, slowly leaning towards his.

kento couldn't even say no even if he didn't want to (not that he will ever not want to kiss you). he decides to give you a swift peck just to entertain your shenanigans, but when he is about to let go, you deepen your kiss, tightening your wrap on his neck, forcing him to lean forward and straddle you with one of his thighs digging on the couch.

he can taste the red wine you had recently drunk, and he's confident he can get drunk with your lips alone. kento's mind went hazy as he moved against your lips languidly, letting himself drown in your kiss. he wanted this to last longer, even take it further, but alas, kento has always been a man of self-control, so he lets go of you, not before giving you one last kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen.

the whole night, kento tends to your every need that you couldn't do. he had prepared you a warm bath, removed your makeup, and did your skincare for you that he knows at the back of his hand. he had lathered you up with your favorite lotion, dried your hair (not without a fight since your drunk self found the hair dryer too loud), and kissed you good night before tucking you to bed, leaving a pack of aspirin and a water bottle on your nightstand before sleeping.

the morning after, you woke up to the smell of your favorite soup and your fiancée insisting on feeding you even though you told him you could manage.

you make sure to pay him back really well that same day.

that time when you attended a family reunion 

it's always this dreaded day you always wanted to avoid but couldn't. 

you would rather stay home with kento rather than attend a gathering that will just piss you off, but your mom had pleaded with you to come— "so that they won't gossip about you," she said.

you know that's a lie; whether or not you attend, they'll always find a way to talk about you anyway; there's no winning. but since you wouldn't want to let your mother down, you suck it up and prepare for it regardless.

what makes you nervous is that this is the first time Kento has come along— or more like you let him come along. 

you had heard complaints from your relatives about not meeting kento when he was still your boyfriend, and now that you're engaged, you should've at least let them meet him. you begrudgingly agreed, but it doesn't mean you're not nervous.

your relatives have been annoying throughout your life, always meddling with things they shouldn't even care about. 

it always started with asking about your weight change, school activities, grades, chosen course, and relationships, not to mention the ever-so "you should do better" undertone in all aspects of your life. and for some reason, always making you feel small is included in their mandatory list to piss you off. 

you know that once you let them meet your now fiancée, they would bombard him with questions and annoy you and him for the rest of the day. you only keep up with the tradition because your mother is too kind to tell them off, laughing awkwardly when they berate you and always giving you a silent apology through her eyes.

it wasn't her fault; you just wish she'd shut them off.

kento had noticed your change of behavior ever since this morning while preparing in your home. you had been silent and spacing out, only replying when he had finally snapped you out of your daze. he doesn't know what the deal was with your relatives, but all he knows is that your mood drastically changes whenever they're involved in the conversation, and that's enough for him to tell you that they're not really good news.

"are you sure you want to go, honey? we can always drive back home," kento said with worry, cutting through the thick tension in the car. "it's fine; I can handle it; we're almost there anyway. it would be a waste if we turn around," you tell him with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Kento replied with a small smile, taking your hand to his face and kissing your knuckles, "just know that i'll always be there, alright?"

you nod, feeling slightly relieved, before looking out the window to drink in the scenery as you pass by. 

it turns out you can't handle it.

you thought your relatives would be a little tamer because you have someone over, but you were totally wrong.

ever since you both arrived, your aunties had surrounded kento and bombarded him with questions. from his age, degree, university he graduated from, where you met, wedding date, monthly income (which is incredibly embarrassing), to how many children he plans to have.

most of it wasn't a problem, but your blood boiled the moment they asked about what he saw from you.

this would've been such a sentimental moment if it weren't for your auntie's sarcastic tone, as if the question was meant to belittle you, to make you feel like you're not worthy of him.

when kento was about to open his mouth just to pour out how much he loves you and how he's lucky to have you, one of your aunties butt in with their loud mouth.

"well, she isn't really a traditional partner isn't she?" she said, a smug smile forming on her ugly and wrinkly face. "yeah, i mean, i assume with a fine man like you wouldn't be attracted to someone like her," another one added.

kento clenches his fists as he felt fury fire inside of him. how dare they think about you like this and talk about you like this, like you weren't just in front of him, seething in pain and anger.

he was about to give a proper and calm response when your uncle had spoken, "besides, she dresses like a... you know," then an ugly cackle. "a what?" your auntie had joined, taunting him to say the word.

"oh, you know, like a sl-"

that was the final nail in the coffin. his words are cut off when kento angrily smashes both palms on the table, seemingly angry, forming an angry red aura you have never seen. "i've had enough," he started, while all eyes are on him, including yours.

"i will not allow any single one of you to disrespect my wife any longer. i will not tolerate your old and immature ways of talking about her. i've been patient enough, but this bullshit is something I will not allow," kento's vulgar choice of words has made everyone's eyes at the table grow wide, shocked.

"i would say this respectfully, but you guys weren't to my wife either, so please, i'll say this once," he inhales, trying to calm himself down. 

"fuck off," kento declares before taking your hand and exiting the venue.

during the walk to the car, he had been slowly calming himself down. once you reach it, kento holds your face gently, "i'm sorry for the outburst there; i just couldn't stand them disrespecting you any longer, so I had to." he says before putting a gentle yet quite long kiss on your forehead.

once he lets go, he sees your face. your eyes had been filled with tears, and it broke his heart. "that's fine, i've been wanting to tell them to fuck off for years anyway. if anything, i should thank you," a smile spread through kento's face before opening the car door to let you in.

once the both of you are finally settled in your seat, you ask, "by the way, I just noticed you called me your wife; what was that all about?" you ask him out of curiosity. he knows you're happy about that based on how happy your voice sounded when you asked him.

"i'm just so sure you'll end up with that title anyway, unless you're having cold feet?"

"oh god, no! i'm just touched, 's all," you shrugged as you settled in your seat, a smile stretched across your face. 

kento chuckles and leans forward to kiss your cheek before starting the engine and driving off.

your mom visited you and kento later that week, saying she was happy she was finally not invited to the next reunion. she then made you your favorite dishes as an apology for that day.

you don't mind what gossip they would come up with next, not when you have the kind of man kento is. 

their little toxic gossip train had nothing compared to the love that kento gives you every single day anyway.

that time when you asked him to be rough

the night is still young and cold but kento does know how to make it hot.

his hands fumble the plush ass as you keep on taking his cock, sloppily riding him as you let your hips and thighs do the work. your cunt meticulously takes all of him, molding your walls just like it was made for him. "hah, faster darling, please," kento pleads, voice broken and desperate for release.

his calloused hands caress your body gently like you are someone sacred, a figure that shouldn't be harshly touched or you'll be condemned, the same hands that used to exorcise and kill curses without a single thought. and yet with you, he carefully carries them lightly, holding onto your waist, not too tight enough to leave you in pain. 

you feel your stomach tie into a knot, slowly feeling yourself come to a climax, "shit, kento, you're so big, mngh, make me feel so full," you say through gritted teeth, further speeding up your pace. the sound of your thighs slamming against his echoes through your bedroom, accompanied by your ragged breaths and kento's broken moans of pleasure.

your fiancée's hands then find their place back on your ass, squeezing it tight, but not too much, guiding you to bounce on his cock more as he feels himself closer. "s'good for me, yeah? taking me like a good girl?" kento looks at your eyes lovingly, his brown orbs touching your soul. you nod, not finding the words to say, mind too hazy to answer as you keep on taking his dick, taking him in like you always do.

"yes, oh god, yes, kento— please, inside— me," were the only words you managed to let out as your movements kept on getting sloppier and sloppier each moment passed by. he knew what it meant, and who he to deny such a polite request?

kento let himself release inside of you with a groan, making sure every drop of his cum is given to you. 

your pants envelope the room as you both try and catch your breaths— then a beat of silence.

you take kento's face in the palm of your hands and caress his cheek, "you know, i sometimes wish you could be rough," you say as you observe his sexed stupor, "i occasionally get rough on you, don't i?" he asks, eyebrows raised with confusion.

"no, like i mean, rough rough," you emphasize, "you're always so gentle. you don't think i can handle you?" faux sadness evident in your voice, one that your fiancée can never say no to, not when you're asking this nicely. "oh darling, i'm sorry, i will do it next time," he coos, fixing the loose strands on your hair by tucking them behind your ear.

"we can do it now?" you suggest, making the corner of kento's lips perk up, "oh? you sure you can handle it?"

"i know i can handle it," you say as your voice rang with confidence.

you knew kento had it in him to be rough, but good god, you never expected him to be this good. 

he had given you a more than good fucking, which leads you drooling on your sheets, with your back arched, ass up, and your hands held behind by kento as he drills his cock into your sopping cunt. his hands left prints on your ass and thighs, which left a delicious burn on your skin. "want to take my babies, don't you?" kento says as his hips meet your asscheeks.

"mnghh, yes, daddy! full— 'f your babies!" that was enough for him to unload himself inside of you, burying himself deeper to make sure you'll take all of it before he pulls out.

you were about to sit up, panting, when you felt kento's large hands wrap around your neck from behind, squeezing it while the other was pulling your hair.

"who said i was done with you, pretty?" the deep timbre of his voice went straight to your pussy.

this side of your fiancée is undoubtedly a pleasant surprise.

the following day, though, you were treated again like a queen, a bath ready for you by the time you woke up, surrounded with fresh flower petals that he had taken the time to buy from your nearest flower shop, and your favorite candle burning alongside your bath products. kento also insisted on giving you a full body massage to ease any tension and muscle ache.

you asked for it anyway, but you also don't mind this kind of treatment from him every now and then.

that time when you had a cold

you woke up feeling like absolute shit.

you don't know when or why it happened; it just did.

your head was throbbing the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at the sun rays that peeked through your windows. your body felt heavier than usual, and your shoulders felt sore. kento had taken notice of this as soon as he woke up, tending to your every need.

it pains your fiancée to see you in such a state, voice hoarse, your sniffles meet with a crumpled-up tissue near your nightstand, a mucus-filled cough every now and then, and an occasional "my throat hurts" whenever you speak. you had begged him to bring you some slightly cold water along with your food because lukewarm water doesn't hit just the same. but being the ever-responsible adult that kento is, he says no, leaving you sulking as you begrudgingly eat your food with a frown.

taking your medicine, though, is a different kind of task.

you stall every single time, finding it hard (or hating) to swallow the pills. even more so if he gave you water with a dissolved effervescent tablet, claiming it's too gross to drink, even if it doesn't really have any flavor. whenever you're sick, this is always the obstacle he has to face.

"please give me some juice or candy kento; it'll help when i drink the medicine," you begged, adding a touch of cooing pleases to make him say yes.

"i think the sweets you ate are what led you this way, darling," he says, which practically means no. 

a pattern he noticed is that whenever you eat too much salt or sweets without drinking the right amount of water, it always leads to you getting this sick. "it'll just be a little sip, please? baby?" you had finally hit a new low, busting out the occasional nickname when you need something from him.

"you're a big girl, honey; you can drink this. here, i'll cover your nose for you," at this point, you just let him do it; there's no way you'll be able to convince him. you reluctantly nod and decide to drink the medicine instead.

kento pinched the sides of your nose together, effectively covering the smell, or lack thereof (he doesn't even know why he covers your nose, he just knows you'll take it if you don't smell anything). your face scrunched as your tastebuds are met with an unfamiliar and unwelcome taste, but you drink it anyway, your throat desperately chugging it so you can be done with it right away.

once you felt that you had finally consumed all of the medicine, you immediately let go of kento's hold on your nose, quickly reaching out to the glass of lukewarm water on your nightstand. after you drink enough to allow the aftertaste of the medicine to go, you place it back and let yourself lie in bed.

"i'll prepare you dinner, and i'll be back, alright?" kento takes away your glasses and places them on the tray he had brought them with. he was about to leave the room when he felt you tugging on his shirt "hm? do you need something?"

you shake your head, "no, just... thank you," 

a small smile spread on his face, your fiancée takes his free hand on your head and gently ruffles your hair, "this is nothing to thank about darling, i'm just doing my job," he bends down and gingerly places a long kiss on your forehead, "i love you, get some rest." 

you nod, but not before giving him a small smile back.

that night after you had eaten your dinner and drank your medicine (albeit hesitantly), you spent the night with kento caging you in his firm, warm arms. 

you feel yourself get better by then.

that time when you got married

when you walked down the aisle, kento looked at you like you had hung the stars for him. his eyes sparkle as he sees you wearing the gown you've been working on for months; even kento himself can't believe he's seeing an angel.

is this what heaven is? is this a dream? are you even real? how lucky is he to be with someone like you?

kento always believed you're out of his league, someone out of reach, and like the stars from the sky, the only way to capture your beauty is through his eyes. but he couldn't believe that the universe was on his side, fate working its way to make him yours, and he happily obliged. 

cupid had shot him through the heart, and you stole it, and he can't even be mad at it. he'd happily give you all of him at the snap of your fingers. let himself be bare to you; let himself mesh with you. your soul, senses, beliefs, and love clouded onto him. 

he consumes every single aspect of you within him, lovers stitched together by fate that no one can even cut. 

kento sees himself becoming one with you, so he will never regret the time he got on his knees to present you with the prettiest ring he could ever find, but nothing can compare to the beauty you carry, not even this ring. 

when you accept him with a delighted "yes," kento swears he's the luckiest man alive ever, blessed by your whole being.

so when you finally reach his side, everyone becomes a blur, his eyes focused on you the whole time, soaking in your beauty; he can't believe this is the face he's going to see every morning for the rest of his life. 

"hey handsome, you look great," you say, holding kento's hand. "i could say the same to you, pretty," he replies, and he had to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

and comes with the exchange of vows; kento feels slightly nervous but proud because he gets to declare his love for you in front of the people you both cherish most.

he clears his throat before opening up the letter in his hands and looks at you with such love and contentment.

"to the person who helped me see love in your form,

you've always painted colors on my blank canvas, and i cannot thank you enough. you shed light when i'm in my darkest days, have been with me through my stormy nights, and share my gloomy days.

you have been the compass to my lost soul, guiding me to the destination i know as love. you give harmony to my life as your laughter always brings music to my ears; your voice reminds me that you're here with me. you had composed the greatest symphony that sang its way to my heart, making me bare my soul, something that i will never regret," kento pauses, his voice croaked, words stuck in his throat as he tries to stop his tears from spilling. he fails to hear the audience coo in awe, focusing on you.

he continues, "loving you became my eternal pursuit, my garden whose roots are planted deeper than the sea where my endearment continues to blossom. 

every step with you feels like a dance, one that i will not get tired of swaying my heart with. your hands had made a map of my body and soul, imprinted the images of love one couldn't see, and only i could feel.

and the only time i get to call something home, i stare into the deep abyss of your eyes and see myself tangled with you.

with you, i am willing to get even our souls intertwined, dancing through life as we face the uncertainty together, with love ink deep within my veins.

to my anchor, my only solace, the only anthem my heart will forever sing,

i hope the warmth of your arms will forever embrace me, even after death." the attempt to keep his tears falling fails, so does the audience, and so did you.

your eyes filled with tears, but one that's full of love. your heart feels so full that it's threatening to spill out of you. you love kento so much that it hurts; it aches to the core that someone could ever love you this much.

and you're forever thankful.

that day, your promises to each other are officially sealed with a kiss so intense and wedding bands that even evil couldn't break, that no trespassers shall get into and rip your bond away.

when kento's lips met yours, it was soft, it was warm, it was sweet, it was comforting. 

finally, your husband thinks.

that day sealed the chapter to your newfound forever.

another note: i'm not so proud of the vows i made but i hope it captured kento enough lol srry 😭

[starlight-library]

Princess Backpack | LN4 (SM AU!)

pairing: lando norris x biker!reader (they/she pronouns!)

summary: an f1 driver and a biker finally take their crushes off of social media

warning: minor suggestive if you squint

FC: none!

a/n: for @norrisleclercf1 as a treat for passing your exam!

yourusername tagged serpents_unite

liked by yourbestfriend, serpents_unite, and 1.1m others

yourusername late night rides are the best rides @ serpents_unite

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user204 YES MORE BIKING CONTENT

user73 WE ARE SOOOO!!!

yourbestfriend QUEEEEN!!!!

↳ yourusername right back at you 😉

user402 THE WHIIIIITE BIKE!!! UGH SO HOOOOT 😫

user49 WAR IS OVER WE ARE BACK!!!!

landonorris

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1.3m others

landonorris it's race weekend so have some throwbacks 😉

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carlossainz55 please tell me you were careful

↳ landonorris of course

user694 YESSSSSSS

user025 UGGGGH SO FIIIIIINE 😫

user739 it's criminal these are throwback photos and this is the FIRST time I'm seeing them cause GOD DAMN 🥵🥵

oscarpiastri you forgot to post when you almost fell off

↳ landonorris hey oscar, HUSH! ↳ carlossain55 HE WHAT? ↳ landonorris NOTHING!!!

yourusername oh to be that car or under the car but remove the car--

landonorris liked this comment ↳ user597 YOU'RE SO RIGHT ↳ user973 wish this was twitter so i could retweet this ↳ user024 not lando liking the og comment ↳ yourusername HE WHAT? OH MY GOD I HAVE TO GO INTO HIDING

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, and 839,205 others

yourusername The choke hold this sport has all for a silly British McLaren driver 😫

view all 506 comments

user20 OMG! You watch F1?!

↳ yourusername I do!

user256 What sport is this?

↳ yourusername Formula one! ↳ user256 interesting! Is it free in the US? ↳ yourusername Outside the three American circuits on ESPN, sadly no. You can pay for F1TV for all the fun perks but you should totally NOT look the many sites to pirate it for free. DON'T do that 😉 ↳ user256 good 📝 to 📝 know

yourbestfriend ME AND YOU BOTH

↳ yourusername it's horrible. we should go for a ride ↳ yourbestfriend PLEASE!!!

user39 God this season has been so SILLY 😭

landonorris sorry? lol

↳ yourusername AOPJFOIEA HA IT'S FINE ↳ landonorris oh good 😉

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, serpents_unite, and 1.3m others

yourusername everyone meet Shelly ☺️ still sucks I have no backpack 🙄 backpack applications are opened

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user024 SHELLY IS SO PRETTY UGGGH 😫

user694 the photoshoot is about to fucking SLAP I JUST KNOW IT

yourbestfriend AM I CHOPPED LIVER TO YOU?!

↳ yourusername NO BUT YOU'RE BUSY RIGHT NOW 😔 when will my wife return from war? ↳ yourbestfriend so my darling 🫡

user495 OH TO BE YOUR BACKPACK!!!!

user053 I would KILL to be your backpack

landonorris are applications still open?

yourusername liked this comment ↳ yourusername i mean...yeah 🫣 ↳ landonorris where do I sign up? ↳ user035 OH??? 👀👀👀 ↳ user347 who is trying to WOO OUR BIKER?? ↳ yourbestfriend 😏

landonorris tagged yourusername

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landonorris i am certified passenger backpack now 😚���

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carlossainz55 amigo you stress me out

↳ landonorris I AM BEING SAFE ↳ yourusername little offended you think i am unsafe driver ↳ carlossainz55 no no i have seen your videos. you are a safe driver. muppet here has a habit of getting hurt no matter what ↳ landonorris CARLOS!!! SHUT UP!!! PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!!

maxverstappen oh god here we go

↳ landonorris NOT YOU TOO MAX 😔

yourbestfriend hurt them, and I run you over 😇

↳ landonorris wasn't planning on it but message received ↳ yourbestfriend good! ↳ yourusername THATS MY WIFE 🗣️🗣️ ↳ yourbestfriend YOU KNOW IT!!

yourusername you do make a cute backpack ☺️☺️

↳ landonorris you know it babe 😉 ↳ carlossainz55 BABE? ↳ maxverstappen you got a PARTNER? ↳ yourusername guess cat's out of the bag now.. ↳ landonorris haha yeah...well look at the time! Gotta run!

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[demonpiratehuntress]

baby (name)! (Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Brook, Chopper)

featuring - Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader, Buggy x F!Reader, Shanks x F!Reader, Brook x F!Reader, Chopper x F!Reader

summary - you somehow get turned into a baby and they have to spend 24 hours babysitting you

warnings - my first time writing for ALL of these characters, so i'm sorry if i get their characters wrong! im only 416 episodes into the anime. i tried my best!

a/n - this was requested by @faioula16, i hope you like it!

MIHAWK

This could honestly go either way. This guy is unpredictable and even you never know what his next move will be. But you're his faithful and loving girlfriend, so there are some exceptions when it comes to you. Like when some deranged devil fruit user turns you into a baby, and Mihawk could have had someone else take care of you, but he wanted to do it himself. He was curious, now that it was you who was an infant.

But that may also be because a witness to the scene had expressed fear for infant you, saying that Mihawk was too cold and ruthless to take care of a baby. He didn't need to prove otherwise, and he didn't want to, but something just gnawed at him. Protectiveness, maybe. You were in such a vulnerable state right now, only he could protect you and care for you.

It had absolutely nothing to do at all with the fact that you looked so adorable staring at him with your big (eye colour) eyes, reaching out to tap his because the strange colour fascinated you. No, it had nothing to do with how cute your excited squeal was every time he picked you up or looked at you. He was absolutely not entranced by your cute little smile or how you clung to him with little hands that could barely hold his one finger. Absolutely not.

Mihawk is actually a pretty good babysitter. But only for you. He will sit and read to you with you on his lap, trying not to smile when you giggle and smack the book, always catching you when you lunged forward excitedly and almost fell off his lap. He will never finish the story, but he reads to you anyway because you seem to like it...for a little while.

"(Name), no!"

He almost had a heart attack when he set you down for one second to put the book away, and you almost fell off the table because you were trying to crawl to him. Your eyes filled with tears when he yelled, even if he hadn't meant to sound angry. His gaze softened, and he picked up and cradled you against his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you. You're fine, little one."

And then you really are fine, your little body comforted by his actions and words. They lull you into sleep, and soon you rest on his shoulder and fall into a deep sleep, gripping his shirt collar tightly in your tiny fist.

"Sleep well, (Name)."

When you awake, in your usual adult form, you're too nervous to suggest it, but thankfully Mihawk is thinking the same thing.

"I think I'd like a little you or me to keep me company."

BUGGY

Buggy is horrible with children. I mean he's not great with people, but he is absolutely, terrifyingly not good with kids at all. So when you were somehow turned into a tiny human being who could barely stand on two legs, he was shocked. And slightly scared, though he would never admit it. You were the only person he genuinely liked, so he tried not to be too...rough, with your little form. Picking you up was as far as he got, but even then he held you out awkwardly like a football.

And then you squealed and happily reached for his nose, the bright red circular appendage attracting your attention instantly. Now, Buggy was sensitive about his nose, but he let you touch it. A testament to how much he liked you. And, if he were being honest, you were actually kind of cute squeezing his nose like that until he couldn't breath-

Exhale out the mouth.

When he remembered he could use his mouth to breathe, he smiled a little at how much you were enjoying yourself playing with his nose. You even touched his makeup and all his markings, out of curiosity. Your eyes were bright with confusion but also fascination, and it did something weird to Buggy. Made him feel...warm inside?

Then he decided to, experimentally, see what your reaction to his devil fruit would be in this tiny form. He set you down on the floor again, and then detached his hand. Your eyes went wide and you instantly covered your eyes with your small hands, your bottom lip trembling. He panicked, tripping over himself and falling into a tangled heap in front of you. You peeked between your fingers to see this, then burst out into cute laughter. Buggy almost glared at you, but then remembered you were just a baby and instead picked himself up and smiled - or rather tried his best not to smile like a maniac - at you.

Then you saw his floating hand, and grabbed it.

"No no, (Name), that's not-"

You stuck his fingers in your mouth, and he groaned. You just giggled innocently, and only then did he realise his devil fruit could be a source of entertainment for you. He detached multiple limbs and floated them around, watching as you squealed in glee and crawled around trying to catch them.

Were you actually having fun because of him?

When he finally put his body back together again, you pouted but crawled up to his leg and hugged it, gurgling happily as if to thank him. He was stunned. He slowly picked you up and you offered him a toothless smile, before yawning. Still unsure, he laid you on his shoulder and awkwardly patted your back, but that seemed to work because you slowly fell asleep.

When you woke up again, finally an adult, you grinned at him, "Shall we make you a father?"

SHANKS

It was his fault, really. He picked the fight, contrary to his usual behaviour. But that guy had said something about you, and he couldn't ignore it, so of course he acted. And now here you were, a tiny baby fisting his shirt in your tiny hand and looking up at him with big, curious (eye colour) eyes. He had experience with children, of course, having spent some time with Luffy. But you were so small, so delicate.

"Captain, what-"

He ignored the confused questions from his crew as he brought you back on board the ship, immediately taking you to his quarters. It shouldn't last long, he reminded himself, but he still felt guilty. Though that quickly disappeared when you giggled and crawled around his quarters, knocking things over and hiding with a loud giggle when he caught you.

"Oi, (Name)!" He tried to sound stern, he really did, but his laugh have his mood away. You stuck your head out from under his bed and stuck your tiny tongue out at him, and he burst out laughing. "Oh, you're cute, sweetheart."

He lifted you up again and you squealed excitedly and reached for his hair, the bright colour attracting your attention. He grinned and put you on his head, keeping his hands on your small waist, and soon felt you tug on his red strands. You were giggling and pulling and kicking your legs happily, so he endured the pain just for your sake. It was very cute how you thought his hair was a toy, and by the time you got tired of it, it was a mess. Strands were everywhere, out of place, sticking out...but it didn't matter to him.

Because now you were looking at him with your big, innocent eyes and suckling on your hand as he cradled you against his chest. He gently rubbed your back and pressed a soft kiss to your tiny tuft of (hair colour) hair.

"You're so pretty even as a baby, (Name)."

You rewarded him with a sloppy kiss on his cheek, making him laugh. He sat on his bed with you still in his arms, watching as you grew tired and offered him the cutest sight - the tiniest of yawns.

"Sleep, little one."

He gently rocked you to sleep, reassuringly and soothingly patting your small back as you drifted off on his shoulder. He felt warm inside, as if a small fire had been lit inside him. He knew what it was.

And when you woke up in adult form, he grinned at you, "Let me give you a baby, sweetheart."

BROOK

Brook has experience with babies. Maybe not human babies, but babies nonetheless. He knows a human baby is very different to a whale baby, but he figures that there can be similarities too. Such as entertainment, which is his area of expertise. So when he looks down at his feet to see baby you tugging on his pants, he is somewhat prepared. He has no idea how you were turned into a baby, of course, but he's not complaining because you are so, so adorable.

"What happened to (Name)?" Franky asked the skeleton, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important!" Was Brook's gleeful reply, followed by a laugh when you somehow crawled on top of his afro and knocked his hat off so you could take its place.

"Nothing imp-" Franky sighed. "Do you even know how to look after a baby?" Franky's eyes worriedly drifted to where you sat upon the skeleton's head, tugging on his afro and squealing with delight. You wobbled precariously.

"No, but it can't be any different to a baby whale!"

Franky would have commented on that, if you hadn't slipped off Brook's head. The cyborg easily caught you, before holding you out to Brook, "Don't let her sit on your head."

"Noted."

For the rest of the day, Brook occupied you by sitting you down on his bed and playing music for you, telling you stories about Laboon and his crew, and about his experiences in the Grand Line before you guys found him. He sang all sorts of songs, played all sorts of melodies, while you giggled and clapped your hands excitedly, bouncing up and down. Brook smiled, the sight warming heart - oh, but he doesn't have a heart. He hardly ever got tired, but you prompted him to play for hours on end, until he really was exhausted. So he picked you up, settled on his bed, and lay you on his lap before humming a tune. You slowly drifted off to sleep, and Brook smiled.

He hoped he could play for one of the crew's babies one day.

CHOPPER

Another island, another mishap, another adventure. No trip is ever boring with the Straw Hats, and this was again proven when an unfortunate encounter with a devil fruit user who could change people's ages led to you being turned into an infant. And that's how you found yourself cradled in Sanji's arms, with Chopper trying to get a good look at you all throughout the walk back to the Sunny.

"Chopper, she's fine," the cook tried to assure the doctor, but Chopper was having none of it.

He was so worried, because no one was equipped to take care of a baby, and he cared about you so much that now you were a baby, he was becoming overprotective. As soon as Sanji set you down somewhere safe for Chopper to examine you, he was grabbing his bag and bringing out all his different tools. He checked all your vitals and made sure you were first and foremost healthy, before he could consider anything else.

Then you touched his blue nose and widened your eyes in fascination, gurgling softly, and Chopper blushed brightly. He smiled and poked your nose back, and you let out the cutest giggle that melted the reindeer's little heart. He shifted to his humanoid form and gently lifted you up into his arms, cradling you as he gazed down at you with the utmost love, adoration and fascination he could manage. You were so tiny, even more so than him, and so so cute. Then you sneezed, looking stunned for a moment before giggling loudly. And Chopper thought there was nothing more joy-inducing than holding and watching baby you.

"Chopper, where's-oh." Nami stopped when she saw Chopper standing there just holding you, one of his fingers in your tiny hand as he cooed at you and made you giggle. She smiled softly and left the room, deciding you were in safe hands.

"You're the cutest baby in the world, (Name)," Chopper told you. You just smiled brightly, exposing your gums cause you had no teeth, and waved your small arms around happily.

Chopper was really good with you. He monitored you throughout the 24 hours, making sure you ate properly, got enough sleep and were bathed properly. He is probably the best caretaker out of all the men on this list, not only because he's doctor but he's naturally caring and nurturing. It comes like second nature to him. Besides, you were such a calm and quiet baby - except for the giggling - that you made it easy for him. He was almost sad when you fell asleep, knowing you'd be grown up again when you woke up.

But maybe one day the crew would be able to fawn over a baby everyday. Maybe one day.

[roach-works]

ok im waffling on about fallout instead of having breakfast but i saw a criticism of how the prisoners were treated that's stuck with me.

spoilers!

so i think the criticism wasn't incorrect, per se: it condemned the way the show portrayed the vault dweller's naive intention to rehabilitate their murderous captives. it found fault with a common, and horrible, message that tv shows like to say, which is that carcerial violence and even the death penalty is the only effective way to deal with criminals, who are a fundamentally Bad category of human. im sick of that message too! but i think that wasn't what was going on here, actually.

so like, the vault dwellers had only ever experienced violent loss the once, and didn't really know how to cope other than denial and repression of the ordeal. but they were all hopeful and enthusiastic that their prisoners, the invaders that came to kill them all and take their stuff, could be eventually welcomed into the community as their comrades. the champions of this cause were nebbishy dorks and painfully out of touch academics. this is pretty normal for how prison reformers are portrayed, if extremely fucking annoying for those of us who ARE in favor of prison reform.

but so of course when the son of the former overseer, Norm, speaks up and suggests killing the prisoners, because why should they share resources with invaders who explicitly wanted to keep hurting them? why should they show mercy to their attackers? everyone is appalled by this suggestion. because they had to reinvent the whole concept of vengeance right then and there, because grudges and cycles of violence are anathema to a bottle society like theirs. they have been raised all their lives to forgive and forget and now, put to the test, they're recommitting to this ethos: get along, let the past go, look towards the future, believe the best of everyone.

but the prisoners die, anyway. the prisoners are killed with rat poison. and the thing is that Norm who suggested it didn't do it himself. and the prison guard who's blamed for it, even though she privately agreed with Norm that the prisoners are dangerous and unforgiveable, she didn't do it either. it's not a moment of triumphant, cathartic vengeance and it doesn't prove that there's no way to negotiate with terrorists and invaders but kill them like vermin because that's not what the message is meant to be.

the message is that norm stands there in the middle of these inconvenient prisoners, these corpses dressed in his own people's uniforms, and he looks at the new overseer. and he knows that she killed them, and she knows that he knows. she wanted him to know. this is her message and he's reading her loud and clear. and he doesn't look like a guy who's just been backed up by authority, who's just been validated in his desire for the ultimate control over those who have wronged him.

he's scared and pale and the music is ominous as fuck. and he's inside the cell, he's directly in the middle of it.

because what just happened is that he realized his entire society is being held prisoner, and the overseer is the one with the rat poison. and that he doesn't know, anymore, what freedom and safety and justice actually mean, just that he doesn't have them and he doesn't know where to find them.

that's what that scene meant. not that rehabilitative justice is a pathetic delusion of people who have no idea how to make hard choices.

but that before you advocate for killing prisoners, you might want to see how big that prison is, first.

and which side of the bars you're standing on.

[zeltqz]

having rindou as a clingy, needy fwb

content: safe sex, sexting, suggestive pics, rindou is a horny guy, needy guy, clingy guy, implied possessive rindou, fem!reader

a/n: ive been so inactive im so sorry guys i feel so bad :( uni has been literally kicking my BOOOOOTYYYY anyway enjoy this quick one shot with rindou :))

He’s bold.

You set the shopping bag down on the floor by your bed and began to unpack its contents, ready for a mini fashion show in front of your mirror when your phone chimed by your bedside table.

You were halfway with taking your top off when you heard the buzz and walked over to it and grabbed it.

rinnn wyd

You smiled at his random text message, eyes trained on your screen as you sat backwards onto your bed and texted back.

you Just came back from shopppinggg

Setting your phone down, you’re about to stand back up to head towards your mirror when he responds at lightspeed. Oh he must be so bored today, you snigger and decide to text him back.

rinnn What you get?

you Cant tell you thattttt Too personal

rinnn What was it? Lingerie?

you Oh um

rinnn No way. Pfft yeah right

you WHATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN????

rinnn Nothing i just cant see you in that at all

you Well its true 

rinnn Sureeee Lemme see it

you Ok wait one second

You stand up from your bed and walk over to your bag, grab the lacy bra and matching panties set and place it flat on your bed. It took longer than a second to snap the photo as you wanted it to look perfect and presentable so you spent longer actually wiping stray crumbs from your bed, closing your curtains to get perfect lighting, straightening out your bedsheets in order to get the perfect photo.

Once you were pleased, you hopped back onto your bed and sent the photo to Rindou. As expected, since it took longer than you said to send the photo he went offline and you huffed impatiently. Ten minutes later your phone was buzzing and you zoomed for it eagerly, only for your smile to fade when you saw his response.

rinnn Thats not what i meant

you WDYM?????

rinnn Did you get it for your boyfriend?

you You know damn well i dont have a boyfriend

rinnn Lmfao i know. just checking

you what???

rinnn Show me the fit tho

you I did

rinnn Put it on

you oh…OHH Sure okay…

You weren’t expecting that at all honestly. Yet the idea of putting it on for Rindou weirdly turned you on. You bit your lip and stared down at the lacy material laid on your bed and slowly began to strip off your shirt and bottoms. Once it was on, you quickly walked up to the mirror and examined how it looked on you. 

It was the cheapest matching set available in store and you weren’t rich by any means so it’ll have to do. You quickly grabbed your phone and snapped a photo of you standing in the mirror. 

The photo was horrible. You were stiff, awkward and you accidentally took the photo in the middle of blinking. You wanted to cry but you couldn’t find the confidence left in yourself to retake it, so you cropped your face out and sent the photo to Rindou without a second thought. 

It all happened so quickly that you failed to realise the gravity of what you just did until you saw Rindou read the message. Your eyes widened and you tossed your phone across the room, flopping instantly onto your bed and thrashing between the sheets for a minute or two to let your frustrations and anxieties out. 

It was the first time you ever sent someone intimate photos and you made a promise to your younger self that you’d wait until you were in an official relationship to do that. But here you were sending them to your best friend just because you wanted his approval for reasons that were beyond you.

Your phone buzzed minutes later and you peeked an eye open at your phone from across the room, took a deep breath then reached for it.

rinnn Damn u look so sexy right now

you Lol stop Thank you tho

rinnn Send another

you Desperate much?

rinnn Coming from the girl buying lingerie for herself

you Nothing wrong with that :( But fine wait

You feel exceptionally giddy when you stand up from your bed, your confidence rising back up in copious amounts as you waddle towards your mirror. This time, you recorded a short video of you from side to side, showing off your assets as seductively as you possibly could before sending it to him.

His response only spurs you on even more.

rinnn Would u kill me if i was hard rn

you Probably yes Flattered, but yes

rinnn How would u kill me?

you Choke you maybe. Or like suffocation and prolong it as long as i can

rinnn With your thighs? I wont mind that

Your face flushes as your thumbs freeze over your keyboard.

you OML YOURE SO HORNY I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

rinnn Thats how i took it 

you Yeah i know, you weirdo

rinnn How would you suffocate me though?

you With my hands duhhhhhh. Actually maybe a pillow. More surface area.

rinnn You’ll be on top of me?

The image of you on top of him with your hands around his throat plagued your mind and you were lost for words for the third time tonight. It didn’t even occur to you that you were sexting your best friend.

you If that's how you want to go out then yes

rinnn It is

you Then i will

rinnn Good

You This escalated so fast Goodbye rindou 

He’s needy.

His phone is ringing. 

Rindou’s phone is ringing whilst he’s on top of you, lips kissing and sucking your soft skin just under your jaw as his cock thrusts slowly into you. Your hands are playing with his hair, running your fingers through them, scratching at his scalp when his cock reaches that spot inside you with enough force to tease, not satisfy you. 

You’d been begging him to go rougher, want to hear the loud slap of his hips against yours but he’d been so adamant on taking his sweet time, like his phone hasn’t been ringing for the last thirty seconds.

“Rinnnnnn,” you grumble irritatedly, the soft strokes you were doing on his hair now turned to a full on tug , as harsh as you could, with enough force to completely still his lips on your neck. 

He pulls away from you and lifts himself up onto his arms, looking down at you with a peeved expression on his face.

“What.” His hips still don’t still, thrusting ever so slightly into you but keeps on managing to hit that spot regardless and see your eyes roll as you bite down your lip to stifle a moan. 

Unlinking your arms from around his neck, you try to reach over to the bedside table but your arms are too short. Grumbling, you try to shift and Rindou just stills entirely, watching you grab his phone that was face down as it rang continuously for the last minute. 

Missed call: Dad

Missed call: Dad

Your eyebrows raise as you read the contact and turn the phone towards Rindou. He clicks his tongue, irritated your attention is off him and grabs the phone. 

“It’s just my old man, who cares?” He tosses the phone backwards on the bed, this time you can’t reach it if it rings again and his thrusts restart, slowly rolling his hips into your core.

“What if it's important?” you mumble, your voice shaky when he relowers himself on you, kissing your lips softly. “Rin—” Your words keep getting swallowed by his lips and he doesn’t stop kissing you until you finally give in. 

He grabs onto your hand and lifts it, nestling it on top of his head and moves your fingers to play with his hair. You got the hint and began stroking his hair again, loving the way he hums into your mouth whenever you tug at his hair.

You were finally submitting to him again, his phone long forgotten in your mind and he grins before pulling away from the kiss to reattach his lips back onto your neck, adding more to the marks he left on your neck prior.

“Rin faster please,” you whine, trying to lift your hips to feel his cock deeper inside you but he’s quicker. A firm hand pressing down on your hips to keep them flat on the bed.

“Stop being so needy,” he says, voice muffled as he doesn’t stop sucking down your throat. 

“I’m needy? Says the one who’s been kissing me and having me play with your  hair for the last—” You grab your phone that was under his pillow and check the time. You got here around five p.m and it's now close to six. “—hour.”

“Were you not complaining you barely get aftercare during sex? All those other boys you were with practically discarded you, now I’m doing it and you have a problem?” His hand runs on the underside of your right breast before cupping it, squeezing it in his hand, enjoying the way you shiver momentarily. “Make up your fuckin’ mind.” 

His tongue licks at your nipple and your body jerks briefly before stilling as he sucks on your soft nipple till it hardens. 

“That’s—not the same and you know it, Rin.” you huff, unable to think of a comeback; not when he’s treating you like this.  He chuckles and bites gently on your breast.

All you can think of as you toss your head back is the feeling of his soft lips on your breast, his tongue licking at your nipple, sending static down your entire body. 

His mouth is hot against your skin and you find yourself subconsciously lifting your chest higher to feel more of his mouth. 

Your hands grab onto his face and lift him to look at you before pulling him towards you for a kiss. His hand rests on the headboard behind you as your needy mouth moves against his. 

You take the time to run your fingers along his sides, dragging them along his bare back that’s far too clean for your liking, not enough scratch marks like usual. If only he’d actually fuck you like you wanted.

This time, your phone starts to ring beside you and you pull away, breaking the kiss and completely missing the way Rindou rolls his eyes as you instantly go to answer it.

“Hello?”

Bored, Rindou bends back down to your neck only to have you press your spare hand against his mouth, looking sternly at him and shaking your head.

“Oh hi Kakucho. Yes, Rindou’s with me.” 

Rindou gives you a confused look and you shrug before listening intently at your phone. “Oh really? Yeah, we’re not busy right now. I’ll tell him. Okay, bye.” You hang up and put your phone back on the bed.

“Why did you lie?” Rindou asks.

“Kakucho said he needs you for something. I don’t know what, he won’t tell me.” 

“Okay? I’m still busy though.” He pins you back down to the bed when you go to sit up. “I’ll fuck you for real this time. Let me finish.” 

As if to prove his point he shifts backwards, grabbing your ankles and lifting your legs to rest on his shoulder. He leans forward and his cock instantly slides deeper than before; you moan loudly.

 “Right there?” He rolls his hips again, testing. You nod rapidly, breathless and that’s all he needs before snapping his hips recklessly. 

Your walls flutter around the condom with each thrust and he can’t get enough of how good you feel around him. He buries his head between your shoulder and his pillow and listens to your moans, how loud and shaky they get when his hips press firmly against yours. 

“I’m close,” you say softly, biting down on your lip.

“Me too. Shit.” 

His orgasm comes faster than he’d expected, his seed spilling out into the condom when you moan his name softly as your own walls spasm from your own orgasm. He lays on top of you momentarily before remembering Kakucho’s call and reluctantly lifts himself off you.

He slides off the bed and you lift your jelly legs up to sit upright, watching him change back into his clothes. 

“What time will you be back?” you ask, resting your chin on your arm perched on top of your knee. 

“Not sure to be honest. I don’t even know what these people want.” He fixes his belt. “Why? You’ll miss me?” he adds with a smirk and you roll your eyes,

“Other way around Rindou.”

“Mhm sure .” Fully dressed, he fixes his hair that’s been ruffled from earlier. “C’mere.” 

You slide off the bed and walk over to him. He cups your cheek and pulls you closer, gently kissing you. 

You pull away after a few moments and push him towards the door. “Get out already. Stop stalling and go see your friends.”

He laughs before closing the door.

He can’t keep his hands off you.

Rindou has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, keeping sure your body is pressed against his side the entire party. If you wanted to get a drink, he’ll be with you with his arm around your shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture, what can he say? 

 If you wanted to play beer pong with his friends, his arm is around your hip, standing behind you, close enough so that your ass constantly brushes his crotch whenever you make any sort of movement. 

His friends all look at him like he can’t be serious. Ran can’t even think of a time he’s seen you without Rindou’s arm around you honestly. It’s gotten that far.

If you’re sitting on the couch, Rindou’s arm is around your waist, making sure you’re sitting as close to him as possible. What can he say, he just wants to make space for others on the couch. He’s a generous guy.

You’re currently in the bathroom, fixing your hair up to get ready to step into the pool. 

Rindou’s watching you as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, shamelessly running his eyes along your body in your bathing suit. You’re not oblivious to his staring, only used to it at this point. It’s not like you don’t stare at him too whenever he’s shirtless. 

It’s only admiration .

Rindou stands up and stands behind you as you take your earrings out, his chest right against your back as you look at him through the mirror.

“You good?” you ask, concerned. He’s been silent the entire time you’ve been changing.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he murmurs, distracted by the thin strap of your bathing suit. He can’t help but wonder how something so thin can be sturdy enough to hold up in the waters. The last thing he wants is for it to come loose and have your entire chest exposed in front of all his friends.

“I dunno Rin. You’ve been really quiet since Sanzu mentioned swimming—”

“Isn’t this a little flimsy?” he cuts you off, ignoring you in favour of tugging at your strap.

“You think?” You tug at the other one and wonder. “I think it’ll be fine. Actually! Could you tighten the strings at the back?” You reach behind your back and gesture at it.

“Sure.” His voice is low as he unties the straps and begins tying them again but tighter. Halfway, he stops and you don’t notice until you’ve fully taken out your earrings, feeling your bikini top begin to slip. 

“Uh, Rin?” You feel him moving the straps off your shoulder but before you can question it, he’s turning you around and hoisting you up onto the bathroom counter. “Rin. What are you—”

He leans forward, entrapping in a kiss that has you shutting up instantly. His hand palms your breast through your bikini top that’s on the verge of falling to the floor. 

Your hands move to the side of his face and hold him close to you as he slips between your legs, his hand dropping to rest at your hips. His tongue plays with yours, licking into your mouth and you have to fight to keep the soft moan rising in your throat down as you ran your hands down the plane of his chest, gripping at the waistband of his shorts to tug him closer.

Your bikini top finally falls to the floor and it feels so good to have his hand caressing your bare breast. 

A loud knock at the door startles you; Rindou remains unfazed, only irritated at being interrupted. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Rindou yells at the door.

“We’re about to get in the pool. You guys coming or not?!” Sanzu yells back from the other end.

Rindou turns back to you and you shrug, not really minding what you do. His eyes drop down to your lips, your bare chest, your legs, then his dick that’s been hard in his shorts for the last five minutes.

“We’ll see you in a bit.” Rindou kisses you again, lifting you off the counter slightly to slide the rest of your bikini off.

“We’re busy right now.”

[faesystem]

As an ambulatory wheelchair user I have so many thoughts about how people draw/write disabled!Scar. This is sort of a guide/insight from a disabled person about writing/drawing disabled people.

Specifically in regards to wheelchair users.

Do not get me wrong, this fandom is genuinely probably the best group of people I have ever seen when it comes to drawing wheelchairs. I do not believe I have ever seen Scar fanart where he is in a completely unusable, horrible, hospital chair. It is so clear people have taken the time and energy to research into wheelchairs and I love it. I am in no way saying stop that.

I just think people could maybe put a little bit more consideration into him being disabled beyond visual appearance.

I saw a really amazing artwork of SL!Scar and he is in a sports chair. Which is really cool, in many ways, as it shows some thought being put into the setting. If I were in combat, I would in fact like to not be knocked from my chair or have my chair tipped over.

Yet, you have very limited mobility in a sports chair. It is, by design, made to prevent you from tipping over. Which means that you are incapable of going over bumps, really, let alone natural terrain.

Just in general, there really is not any wheelchair that exists in our world that would allow wheelchair users to exist in a setting like the life series.

So, I have some ideas:

- Horses. Hands down my biggest suggestion. Especially with Secret Life they fit in very well with the setting, everyone uses them, and it fits the bill perfectly for what he would need. Especially considering Scar is an archer, it makes a lot of sense for him to be on horseback. It suits him and his style of fighting so well.

- Some sort of redstone power chair. There are all sorts of ways you could design something like this. Perhaps with pistons that push down against the ground, allowing for jumps. Perhaps just a series of pistions functioning as like a bunch of little spider legs. There are a lot of things you can do with that, you can get very creative.

- For my Vex!Scar lovers, you could have magic be used as a mobility aid. Perhaps a magic wheelchair, or perhaps a magic exoskeleton.

And with all of the ideas, considering how they fit into the setting really changes everything. What are the strengths? What are the draw backs?

With horses, they are strong and fast and agile. But they are big, it is hard to fit into small spaces, and they can be killed.

With some sort of redstone chair, I feel as though it would make sense for it to be robust and strong. Depending on how it is constructed, something fast and agile or perhaps something a bit slower and more clunky. Is it loud? How would stealth work in something like that?

When it comes to any sort of magic you do not want it to fix the disability. It is a mobility aid like any other. Not perfect, not the same as not being disabled, just another tool with its own unique draw backs. Perhaps magic is draining or it takes concentration. Would he tire quicker than others? Would he require food quicker than others? Is it possible for him to lose focus on it in a stressful situation, leaving him stuck until he can calm himself down?

Other things to consider are really specifically the setting as well as what disability you are giving him.

I feel as though on Hermitcraft an option like a redstone chair just makes a lot of sense. Multiple redstone chairs, even, all constructed differently for different uses. Such as ones for building. How does long distance travel work with the chair and how you lore your setting? Is it something he can put in his inventory? Is it something he remains in when using an elytra? Does that have any draw backs, such as being slower or needing more rockets or being less coordinated in the air?

I feel as though in the life series a mix of vex magic and horses makes a lot of sense. The magic is good for small spaces and short trips and emergencies, but it is too tiring to travel across the map with and too much effort to maintain when he needs to concentrate on battles. That would be where the horse comes into play.

As for what disability, well, it truly depends. Most of my rambles here have been based upon paraplegia, because I often times see people making him an ambulatory wheelchair user just because they do not know what to do otherwise.

Not that making him an ambulatory wheelchair user is a bad thing by any means. I am one and I adore reading stories like that. It is just a bit clear that a lot of you are quite lost as to how to navigate hurdles disabled people face, so you make it so he can walk over those hurdles. Which, once again, I am not shaming you for! This post is just to show there are other options

But in the case of him being an ambulatory wheelchair user: why is he one?

Mobilities aids are disabling unless you need them. You cannot access spaces or you do not have hands free or any number of things. What to the Scar you are writing makes using mobility aids helpful instead of a hindrance? What times are they more trouble than help, and what cost is there for not using it?

A good example is if Scar can walk around short distances with minimal difficulty/drawback, but long distances are painful or physically not possible.

Look into different disabilities and consider it. A lot of people tend to default to chronic pain because that tends to be quite a common one across a lot of disabled people, but there are a lot more different reasons why.

It could also be that he is very slow because of his disabilities. I have muscle weakness sometimes because of my FND, and it is like moving through sludge whenever I try and move.

It could also be that the mobility aids are a preventative measure. He does not need to use his wheelchair, unless he has done too much walking and then his body refuses to support his weight. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but when he does not he is a lot more likely to dislocate something and then yeah he can't walk. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but he is a fall risk especially after a lot of walking or running. Him being in his wheelchair prevents him from falling! (And if he's a fall risk, maybe he's strapped in too!)

I just have so many thoughts and I wanted to share them.

I see so many of you putting in effort already and it warms my heart. It is why I feel comfortable enough to make this post, because clearly you all care a lot about representing disabled people well.

:]

If you have read this far thank you so much. Let me know what you think or if you have any questions.

Edit: I made a rough redstone wheelchair design. It is one of the few reblogs that has comments, if you filter for that you should be able to find it. If not, reply to the post and I can send you the link to it. :]

[fairymousse]

St Trina is the best part of the DLC's story

Massive spoilers below cut for the whole DLC

I think that St Trina singlehandedly makes Miquella's story not only make sense, but as a natural conclusion to his character.

Miquella's first title was Miquella the Unalloyed. This obviously means purity and lack of compromise, which would be weird if he had been manipulative all along, and just so happened to have a kinder alter ego. So I think that Miquella and St Trina were in sync as helping the people outside of order (the Haligtree, the cut content Merchant stuff).

But, as Miquella began to plan to become a God, St Trina became more separate. As such, Miquella is usually referred to as Miquella the Kind, rather than the Unalloyed. This is also evident in how the presentation of St Trina varies. The Sword of St Trina reads that:

St. Trina is an enigmatic figure. Some say she is a comely young girl, others are sure he is a boy. The only certainty is that their appearance was as sudden as their disappearance.

In the DLC, Trina is explicitly depicted as feminine, suggesting a split similar to Marika/Radagon. And Miquella discards Trina, with the two crosses associated with her being his doubts and vascilations, but also his love.

Obviously, Miquella has at this point done some horrible stuff that would encourage doubt. There's Mohg, and more explicitly Radahn. That Sword of St Trina I mentioned earlier? You find it in Caelid. There must have been some faith for her there, so she would be seeing the horrors of war and the rot. Then there's more general stuff. Will Miquella be any different from Marika? Will he be able to do good at all? This is not what you want if you need to commit to the path.

So Miquella abandons his doubts and his compassion, and this is his fatal flaw. Miquella is no longer able to change his mind about whether the vow that, (as @drenched-in-sunlight pointed out in their post on the Prattling Pate), could have been incredibly flimsy, and never intended to be honoured. He is no longer able to consider if his age of compassion is even wanted. He is no longer able to even consider Mohg. All of this, is incredibly unlike the original Miquella. A defining feature of Miquella is how he abandoned Fundamentalism, because it couldn't help Malenia. Miquella without his compassion and his doubts, isn't really Miquella.

Miquella the Kind is an ideal. St Trina is the genuine heart, who has been forsaken.

Edit : Here is my follow up post to this.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

lover, you should've come over - m. schmidt

a/n: you guys should have seen this one coming! as always i appreciate any likes and reblogs and hope you enjoy :) warnings: suggestive themes, big angst, lots of talk about tattoos and pain and needles, mike having horrible anxiety and commitment issues, reader is mostly gender neutral except for one thing ! tattoo aftercare, hurt/comfort, kissing word count: 3.6k summary: you get a tattoo, and it terrifies mike. mostly because he realizes how much you love him. pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader now playing: lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley "my body turns and yearns/for a sleep that won't ever come/it's never over/my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder."

Penny has done almost all of your tattoos, save for the stick and poke star you gave yourself while you were way too high to be handling that sort of equipment, and a few flash designs you’ve gotten for holidays. And usually, you keep it simple and easy, pitching a design idea and getting a finished stencil a few hours later.

But this time, you go into the shop a few months before you plan to get the tattoo and describe to her what you want. She’s shocked that you want a half sleeve—It’s a big step, she tells you, and it’ll mean sitting for a few hours while she does her work. It’ll be painful, and the design will take a few weeks to get made, because she wants to give you the best possible design.

She does good work. When you visit again in about three weeks, you put down a deposit and make an official date to get it done. October 9th.

You go home that night to your small, but warm home to find your boyfriend trying to make chicken parm. His goal all year has been to learn how to cook, not just to make things out of a box. You know a bit better how to cook, but you let him improve his skills, always providing helpful, gentle critiques.

Abby is worse at being gentle.

She’s brutal with her brother’s cooking, and even though Mike loves your gentle words, he appreciates Abby’s feedback, and just wants her to eat a full plate of food before bed each night.

Tonight, his food smells good. You mentioned about a month ago how you missed your mom’s chicken parm, and since then, he’s been reading and researching different recipes at work. Ever since he quit working at Freddy’s, he’s put down the book of dreams and has picked up cookbooks, working his way up slowly.

You tell him he’ll be making Thanksgiving Dinner in no time. You kiss his jaw when you say that, and later, he returns the favor by placing a kiss to your shoulder.

You go to him, standing in the kitchen, as he squints at the recipe book in front of him. He wears washed blue jeans, an old Foo Fighters tee shirt and a pair of blue fuzzy socks. A towel hangs over his shoulder as he mutters to himself, as he gets ready to put some garlic bread in the oven.

You’re still in your work clothes, though, it’s not as if you’re wearing anything fancy. Just a different pair of jeans, and a tee shirt with your shop’s logo on it. Your hair is messy, and you smell vaguely of dirt. The smell has become comforting to him in his time knowing you.

You step closer to him, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. He relaxes at your touch.

“Hey, Mike.” You say softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, how was your day?”

“Not too bad. The food smells pretty good.”

“You think so?” His voice is hopeful, especially since he’s trying to live up to your memories of the dish as a kid. It’s his way of thanking you for being so good to him while he’s gotten his shit together.

“Mhm. I’m gonna go wash up and have Abby help me set the table.” You tell him. You kiss his jaw quickly before heading off to the bathroom to scrub the dirt from beneath your fingernails. You wash your face and arms too and begin to realize how domestic this all is.

You never saw yourself having kids, and never thought of yourself dating someone who did.

And you still never think about having kids, but you did find yourself treating Abby as if she is your own. This has nothing to do with how much you adore her brother. Abby is just easy to love. You wonder if anyone’s ever told her that.

When your work boots find themselves at the end of your bed, you change into a muscle tee. You’re awfully fond of them. You find a pair of Mike’s fuzzy socks and slip them on too. You take a moment to stare at your shoulder in the mirror, imagining how it’ll look when ink covers it. Most of your tattoos are on your legs, and for a long time, this arm has been bare of any ink. You’ve been saving it for this project for years.

You go to Abby’s room and knock gently before entering. You find her painting at this aisle you got for her birthday. She’s been working on this painting for a few days now, and it’s turning out quite nice.

“Hey, Abs.” You say softly, and she puts her paintbrush down to give you this big, toothy grin. “Go wash up and help me set the table?” You ask.

“Sure.” She hums and starts to skip along to the bathroom, but you stop her at the door.

“And remember, even if Mike’s food is bad, what do we say?”

“Mm, this food is so good and not horrible at all!”

“Abby.”

She sighs.

“This is unlike anything you’ve made before, and I appreciate the effort?”

“That’s it.” You let her go wash up, and then go to set the table.

When Mike eventually serves dinner, you’re starved. You don’t care if it’s bad, or if it’s burnt, you know you’ll like it because you weren’t able to take a lunch break that day. But it genuinely looks good.

He cuts up Abby’s food and puts the plate in front of her before sitting down and looking to you two for a reaction. You take a bite, and you have to pause.

Did Mike really cook something not just edible, but… good?

Not fine, not decent, really good.

“Mike, this is—”

“Amazing!” Abby gasps, going in for another bite. His cheeks flush.

“You guys don’t have to pretend, it’s alright—”

“No, Mike, we’re not pretending, it’s really good!” You defend, going in for a second bite yourself. “Try it!”

He does, and he even looks shocked at the quality of the food he’s produced. And it sets the mood for the whole dinner, until you eventually blurt out,

“I booked a tattoo appointment for next week.”

“What are you getting?” Mike can’t ever admit this to you, but he adores your tattoos. He thinks the placement of them are all wonderful, even if they’re smaller. He likes to kiss them, to trace his fingers over them, to just admire them in the summer.

“It’s a surprise.” You tell him. Owning your own shop and being your own boss has its perks. You have no worries about people judging you for your half sleeve, deciding that you can just ban them from your shop.

Your conversation drifts off and you focus on other things. When you’re done, you and Mike begin to clean up with him, letting some of the pan soak in the sink. You sit on the counter, drying some of the plates as Mike rinses.

“Thank you for dinner.” You tell him.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Comfortable silence fills the room. “You’re really not gonna tell me what you’re getting?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise.” You smile softly. He dries his hand and steps between your legs. His hands land on either side of you, caging you in.

“Tease.” He mumbled, leaning forward, and kissing your shoulder. A hand goes to his hair, your fingers tangling in his locks.

“I’m not teasing, I’m just being a little secretive.” You tell him, playing with his hair. You’re a fan of the scruff he’s been growing out lately.

“Isn’t it gonna hurt?”

“Yeah, but I’ll take breaks and remember to eat.” You tell him. “This isn’t my first tattoo, Mike.”

“I know, baby.” He says softly, “I just get worried—”

“You get worried about me? And yet, when I’m worried about you, you ignore me but—” He cuts you off with a kiss, and your hands land on his jaw, the scruff tickling your face.

• • •

The ink swirls around your shoulder, a moth wrapping around your shoulder and reaching to the top of your arm. Vines wrap around the moth, as flowers bloom in different places. Your birth flower is one of them, as well as your mother’s. You also place Abby and Mike’s around the moth, maybe protecting it. Thorns poke out of some of the vines, and the ink covers your shoulder, and down to just above your elbow.

You got it done on a Saturday afternoon, leaving late enough so Mike could sleep in without having to deal with Abby, but being able to give them some time to relax together.

It takes a few hours, and by the end of it, you’re exhausted. As with all your other tattoos, you’re sore, but this is a new type of sore. You ache for Mike’s hands on you, to hold you and kiss your shoulders, even though he can’t kiss your left shoulder for a few days.

The second skin will remain on your arm for a day or two, and then you’ll have to go through the process of moisturizing your tattoo.

You have Penny take lots of photos of it before you head home, Mike and Abby both waiting in anticipation for you to come home and show them your new ink. You’re excited to show them, since there’s a connection to them in the art. 

When you open the door, Abby runs to you and immediately starts to look for the ink in question. She gasps when she sees it, all wrapped up on your arm.

“It’s a moth,” You tell her, “With my favorite plants.” You crouch down to point out different plans in the works. “These are my mom’s birth flowers, they’re carnations.” You tell her, “Do you know what these are?” You point to another flower.

Abby shakes her head, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the fresh, raw flesh of the person she considers to be her caregiver.

“They’re lily of the valley flowers. They’re your birth flower.” You reach out and tuck hair behind her ear. Then, you point to the third flower. “And these? They’re honey suckles. They’re Mike’s birth flower.”

Mike watches your interaction, listening to your explanation of the tattoo. Suddenly, this anxiety pools in his chest. You’ve been living together for a few months, but somehow a symbol of him and Abby being engraved on your skin makes things all too real.

He could cry.

“Did you get the flowers because you’re a flower person?” You grin, knowing she doesn’t remember the title of your job.

“Botanist, you mean? Sort of, but you two mean a lot to me, and I wanted to tribute something to you guys.” You confess.

She grins and turns to look at Mike.

“I wanna be a tattoo artist when I’m older.” Mike is pale with anxiety.

He wants to tell you it looks good, that it’s brilliantly done, but he doesn’t find it in himself. He wants to run, to abandon this relationship at the door, to never speak to you again to avoid the fact that he wants you desperately and thinks he might marry you one day.

He walks off to the bathroom, and he’s unsure if it’s to throw up or to cry.

You’re disappointed, because you wanted him to like it desperately, since this tattoo is now on you forever, and you wanted it to be a tribute to him. It almost hurts you that he doesn’t love it. Or at least pretend to. Instead, his disdain is visible on his face, and you do your best to turn your attention back to Abby.

“Wanna help me make dinner?” You smile softly, and she nods.

“Did your tattoo hurt?” She acts gently.

“Yeah, but with a good artist it goes quickly, and they don’t aim to torture you.” You explain, as you begin to make mac and cheese.

As she sets the table, you turn back to her and ask, “Can you go get Mike for dinner?” She nods and skips along to your bedroom, where Mike sits on the bed, frustrated with himself.

“Mike?” She asks gently. “We’re making mac and cheese.”

“I’m not hungry.” He says softly, and Abby can just tell something isn’t right.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel well..”

“Oh…” she suspects this is a lie.

“I’m sorry. Tell them I said sorry.” Tears prick Mike’s eyes. He’s unsure why he’s like this, and why he can’t just admire your tattoo and love you and tell you how much you mean to him. But he can’t. He gets the words out. He wants to love you so badly but something in him demands to not let him be happy.

He lays on the bed and tries to stay quiet as he cries.

• • •

Hours later, you sit at the table anxiously, your hands tapping on the wood, a cold bowl of Mac and Cheese on the table. You decide to get up to clean up dinner, and just as you do, soft steps creep out of the bedroom and into the kitchen area.

Mike stands and stares at the cold dinner that he feels bad for rejecting. He should just tell you what’s bothering him. Instead, his gaze turns and looks at you, doing the dishes.

“You didn’t have to make dinner.”

“You didn’t seem well, and Abby needed to eat.”

This comment sparks a much larger fire in Mike, and he isn’t sure why he’s angered by how much you care about his sister, his world.

“You aren’t her mom, you don’t have any reason to make her dinner or put her to bed—”

“Yeah, Mike, well, You’re not really her dad.” You glare. “I’ve taken care of her for months, fed her, made sure she’s taken care of, I’ve picked her up from school, and now suddenly, you’ve decided I have no right to just care about her? Fuck you, if you don’t love me anymore, then don’t take it out on your sister, talk to me like a god damn grown up and stop acting like a child.” You spit, angrily turning back around to keep doing your dishes so that Mike doesn’t see your red face or your tears.

With your back turned, he can see the moth on your shoulder blade, and he aches to trace the lines of your tattoos, kissing the skin around it. But cotton fills his mouth every time he tries to sew the gap between you two.

And your words strike him. He knows why you might think he doesn’t love you anymore, but he does. He loves you deeply and finds himself enamored with you, and yet he can’t even compliment this tattoo that you have obviously put a ton of time, effort and money into.

“I’m sorry—” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I think we should give each other some space.” The words hit you like a ton of brick, and you’re ready to get on your hands and knees and beg him, beg him to not leave, beg him to forgive you (for what, you don’t know), beg him to touch you, beg him to want you.

“What..?”

“I just think I need some space.” He said softly, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You want to ask if he’s hungry, to kiss away all the sadness in the worry lines of his face.

You nod, bite your tongue. He wants to hold you and tell you he doesn’t mean it.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” You mumble, sighing softly. You also plan to leave early before Mike gets up.

Mike steps towards you, maybe to apologize. You step past him to go get pajamas from your dresser, not letting him grasp onto you. You don’t want him to apologize now. You want him to sit in his regret and you want to sit in your anger.

As you attempt to fall asleep that night, you pray Abby didn’t hear your conversation with him.

Both of you try to drift to sleep and salt streams from your eyes and into your ears.

• • •

A few days pass. Your tattoo starts to heal, and you take the second skin off your shoulder and arm and begin the process of aftercare.

You and Mike exchanged a total of about thirty words over the next few days. Abby noticed your angst towards each other and tried to get the two of you to make up. She figured that Mike was being an idiot, and just needed to apologize.

She was right, but he didn’t want to admit that to his kid sister.

It’s hell. You have to pretend that you don’t want to beg for his forgiveness, but you know that neither of you are blameless. Your pride tells you not to be the first one to cave. His anxiety tells him that you hate him.

When he gets home one afternoon from work, you’re napping in bed. He knows the couch isn’t that comfortable and he’s sure you’re home because you’d mentioned to Abby that you weren’t feeling well. You probably didn’t expect to still be asleep when he got home.

But you’re wearing one of his shirts. He kisses your head and leaves a glass of water and cold medicine on the nightstand, before going to make himself busy somewhere else, as if not to disrupt your rest.

He takes one last glance at you before he leaves.

One night, he comes home from work late. You take it as an opportunity to take a hot shower after putting Abby to bed and taking a few minutes to sit in the bedroom that you missed while sleeping on the couch.

Besides, your bones ached from that uncomfortable couch while you were spoiled, used to Mike’s warm bed.

You barely hear the front door open as you continue your nightly routine. You need to apply lotion to your tattoo, to keep it moisturized as it heals. But you find yourself struggling to reach your shoulder.

Mike watches you from the doorway of the bedroom, biting his lip. The bags around his eyes have grown darker since your fight.

He takes off his boots first, and then strips his top down to an undershirt, then takes off his jeans. If you weren’t so busy, you’d acknowledge how handsome he looked in just his boxers and a gray tee shirt.

The bed dips behind you, as he sits behind you. You stop what you’re doing.

“Give me the lotion.” He says softly, and with a sigh of defeat, maybe even a bit of relief, you hand him the lotion. He squirts some lotion on his hands, then begins to rub it into your skin. You shudder at the contact, and he feels tears in his eyes again. He missed you. “I’m sorry I didn’t say I liked your tattoo. I love it.”

“I’m sorry I said you didn’t love me, and I’m sorry I said you weren’t Abby’s dad.”

“But I’m not—”

“But you are her parent.”

“So are you.”

A silence fills the room.

“What happened on Saturday?”

“I got anxious when I saw Abby and I’s birth flowers on you. Like how much I loved you was just engraved in your skin, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t mean to push you away, I was just terrified. Terrified that you’re going to leave. Terrified that I won’t be able to protect you.” His voice cracks at the end, and he leans his head against your shoulder that isn’t inked.

Your head turns to kiss his head.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know..” he says softly, but a part of him doesn’t believe it. You and Abby, you’re the only ones who have stayed, the only ones he’s been able to save. He doesn’t know who he is without the two of you. “I’m sorry, I was such a dick.”

“Yeah, but so was I.” You tell him.

“I love your tattoo. I love all of your tattoos. All of them. I love kissing them. I’m desperate for this one to heal so I can kiss this shoulder again.”

“Thank you for helping me with it. It itches like a son of a bitch.” You tell him, a weak smile on your face. Tears stain your shirt.

“Can we go back to normal now? I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you so much.” You turn and wrap your arms around him, the warmth radiating from his body as he holds you close. You wonder if either of you will ever be able to let yourselves be loved.

You hope to let each other try.

You kiss him, salty tears mixing, as you hold him close. He’s careful of your tattoo, not wanting to scratch or hurt you. He’s gentle in a way that betrays him. He desires you in this way that transcends want or need, something that is vital, as if it were breathing.

Yet his hands remain respectful. Gentle. You’re the one that adjusts your position to be over him, as you gently push him back against the bed, kissing him deeper.

He decides he will marry you someday. That maybe the idea of being with you for the rest of his life isn’t scary.

Not when you kiss him like that.

[biahouse]

Perfect for him, Gregory House x Reader

You're House's girlfriend. Wilson doesn't like you, but... 3 times Wilson realized you were the perfect person for house, +1 time he finally admits it

There was something about you that James Wilson made to hate you.

Maybe it was the way you were the silliest nurse at the hospital, and always fell for the patients' stupid conversations.

Or because you always do your coworkers' duties.

Or the way that in every surgery he performs, you insist on being an assistant nurse and talking to her throughout the procedure.

Or maybe he hated having his best friend stolen.

Wilson didn't hate people. That was House's job. It was even comical that in your situation, House adored you and Wilson hated you with all his being.

Don't get me wrong, you weren't a bad person.

He just doesn't like you.

1

The first time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was at lunch. Since the beginning of the relationship between you and Greg, the doctor in question used to have lunch with you in his office.

But on that particular day, you were very busy in surgery. So with no other alternative, House had to have lunch with Wilson.

It was a surprise for James to see his friend entering the room with a packed lunch. House was known for eating junk food with all his meals. So Wilson assumed that if that hadn't changed with your relationship, he was wrong.

"What is that?" Wilson asked with an incredulous look at the lined pots that Gregory placed on the table.

"Food?" House responded as if it were obvious and mocked his friend.

"Okay, I know. But, I mean... you don't usually eat that."

"I know" House threw himself into the chair and opened one of the jars and started poking a carrot. "Carrots are a horrible thing, you know?"

"House" Wilson called his friend carefully. "Is this some kind of diet for addicts that I don't know about?"

"No. Y/n told me that I should eat more vegetables if I wanted to live longer" The doctor rolled his eyes when he remembered the argument he had with his wife a few weeks ago and since then she usually makes him lunch. "So I'm pleasing my girl" And with that he stuffed the orange vegetable into his mouth with a grimace.

Wilson could only look at his friend in shock.

For years he had tried to get House to eat a healthier diet, and you had achieved it in just a few weeks. Wilson had to admit, he liked you a little more now.

2

The second time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was a week after the lunch incident. He and House were bowling, like they did on Wednesdays.

However, there was something strange about House. He was limping and in more pain than usual.

"What is it? Are you afraid of losing to me or did you forget the Vicodin at home?" Wilson mocked his friend as he threw the ball into the pins.

"Neither" House limped closer to the track when it was his turn to play.

"Is the pain getting worse?" Now James asked worried that Greg's leg was getting worse.

"No"

"Okay House, you win. Why are you in pain?"

"Because I'm trying to taper off the Vicodin" House replied with a shrug and celebrated without a strike.

"What?" Wilson raised his voice making people look at him. Which made him apologize immediately. "You. Gregory House, are you trying to stop Vicodin?"

"Y/n said it's going to kill me. She didn't suggest I stop taking it, but she was upset that I took so many. So I'm trying to cut down."

Wilson opened his mouth in astonishment.

Who was that man?

Gregory House would never cut down on your daily Vicodin cocktail.

But he did, for you.

Only for you.

3

The third time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was on a random day at the hospital a few months after the second time.

House entered his office as he always did, without knocking and suddenly, which made Wilson jump out of his chair every time, even though he was used to it. But something felt wrong that time.

The way House for the first time looked nervous and really confused. For a while, James watched his friend limp around the room as if he was begging for something very deep in his own mind.

Wilson waited, he knew that like every other time House would start telling him about his doubts and he would give him one of his beautiful pieces of advice, which House would probably never follow.

"I want to ask Y/n to marry me" House blurted out and looked at his friend nervously.

"What?" Wilson blurted out the question with a laugh. "Marriage?".

"Yes" Greg said, shaking his head and plopped down on the armchair in his friend's living room. "I thought about it all week"

"All week?"

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say or are you going to tell me your opinion on this?" Greg scoffed at his friend and adjusted himself in the chair, his leg hurting a little.

"What do you want me to say House?" Wilson asked and looked through his patient's files once more, before closing the folder and focusing fully on the matter at hand. "I thought I would never get married"

"I know" House passed his hand across the gap in his forehead. "I don't know why I want it. I just want it."

"Gregory House doesn't know why, that's something I never thought I'd hear" James smiled playfully.

"For the first time I want something more. I want her to be my wife. Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Wilson answered honestly. "It just means you're better House."

"Does that mean you'll help me pick out a ring?"

"As long as you don't make me pay."

Wilson would never understand his relationship with House. Or how two very different people could do such great things together.

Wilson didn't hate you. He understood now. It was just jealousy that you achieved everything he always tried to do. Improve House.

He didn't hate you. Now he respected you.

+1

“Hey Y/n” Wilson called out your name when he saw you walking down the hall with a clipboard.

"Wilson, hi!" You waved at him enthusiastically. It was the first time he willingly spoke to you.

"I just wanted to say thank you" James said making the woman frown in confusion.

"What are you thanking me for? I don't remember helping you" Y/n questioned.

"But it helped, with House" Wilson explained. "I'm sorry for treating you badly all this time."

"You didn't treat me" Y/n shrugged with a smile. "I stole your best friend, it makes sense that you don't like me that much. But it means a lot that you like me now."

"I think you two are perfect for each other," Wilson admitted for the first time out loud. "I can't wait to be the godfather."

"Godfather?" Y/n asked.

"You'll see" Wilson smiled knowingly. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

[carlsangel]

CARL GRIMES HEADCANONS (PT.3)

(carl grimes x reader who’s on their period!)

tags: fluff! some suggestiveness:)

masterlist here!

(hi anon! i know u wanted a oneshot or preferences so i’m just writing hcs, hope that’s ok!)

✦ so you’d discover you were getting your period after intimacy with carl and when having an orgasm you feel cramps instead of pleasure. he would be scared he did something wrong and when he sees your nose crinkle as if you were in pain he’d immediately stop and ask you if you were okay. “did-did i do something? what’s wrong?”

✦ it’d result in a bath, he’d gently wash your hair and your body while giving you gentle kisses around. mostly your neck, shoulders, and arms…the occasional quick peck on the lips whenever you’d get a bad cramp.

✦ the next morning was rough, unfortunately you had bled through what you were wearing due to the position you were sleeping in but also onto the sheets below you. You’d wake up and be extremely frustrated and embarrassed that you did that in front of Carl but he instead felt horrible for you. He did his best to tell you that it was all okay and you weren’t gross and it’s just a bit of natural blood to clean up. “It’s just blood. Nothing we haven’t seen before.”

✦ he’d handle all the laundry while you showered and such but once you were out, he wanted to feed you. he would take you to the kitchen and get you all your favorite fruits in a bowl for your breakfast but whatever else you wanted too.

✦ when you and carl started dating, carl asked his dad and a couple of others for advice on how to make sure to keep you happy and one thing they all said was to make sure he’s prepared for your period; meaning he’d have to have your favorite snacks on hand and know exactly what you’d want to do so that you were comfortable.

✦ he’d let you eat while he prepared your next couple of hours together. he had a bag stored with the chips you like, along with chocolate bars or gummies. he laid out the comfiest/softest towel on the bed so you didn’t have to worry about bleeding on the bed again but he also prepared the TV in your guys’ room with the best movie that was in the house. because you deserve it. (also cause rick trained him to be literally perfect and that’s on good parenting.)

✦ anyway as the days go by you guys sort of just isolate in the house, rick and michonne sort of just let you guys be in the room except for when carl leaves to grab you stuff but they sort of tease him about it because it’s like you guys are married in a way. carl would leave the room and walk downstairs to grab you water, rick and michonne would be there and make fun of him. “how’s the wife?” He’d roll his eyes and explain how you’re doing while grabbing whatever you need. “she’s fine…a lil moody I guess.” he’d shrug and head back upstairs.

✦ he’d only let you wear comfy clothes, after every shower he’d pick out everything for you which consisted of his sweatpants and your favorite hoodie. not to mention he’d do his best to match with his own clothes cause he thinks it’s cute.

✦ he knows how much you love to go on runs so you’d insist to go on one during the week (your lightest day) and upon going you’d be fine but he would constantly be asking you if you needed anything or if you were feeling okay. you’d be exhausted by the time you were home so he’d continue to take care of you there.

a/n: heyyyy i actually love these sm i hope you guys do too :DD

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

[hahaifolded]

Pay Back - John Price x POC!FemReader

Summary: After learning more about John's love life, you are determined in helping John make his ex jealous. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, Fake Relationship, Mutual Pining, Small Age Gap, Misunderstandings, Slight Angst, Cheating (not by Price or Reader), Suggestive Themes, Military Inaccuracies, Sexism, Microaggressions, Cursing, Attempted Assault, Mild Violence Word Count: 4740

“So Cap'n, how come you're not married yet?” asked Gaz before taking the last sip of his beer. After a grueling mission and what seemed like never endless meetings, Price decided to take the team out for drinks at the local bar. But now as the conversation steered towards his love life, Price was starting to regret his decision.

“Leave the man alone,” scolded Ghost.

“Why? It’s a fair question,” whined Soap. They all looked at Price, waiting for their captain’s reaction.

However, before John could say anything, you returned to the table with 5 beers in your hands. “This round is technically on the man in the suit but seeing that I had to talk to him, it’s on me,” you gleamed as you set the beers down in front of the boys. Smiling at them, you plopped next to Ghost, holding one beer in your hand. Gaz and Soap immediately reached for one as the lieutenant nudged you, almost in gratitude. John thanked you for the drink, eyes stuck at how close you sat next to Ghost.

You were the CIA liaison, handpicked by Laswell to work with the 141. Despite being hesitant at first, Price couldn’t be happier with your arrival as you brought a much needed balance to the taskforce. You immediately matched Soap’s and Gaz’s energy, eased yourself in Ghost’s reserved sphere, and made Price’s life so much easier.

But, at the same time you also complicated it as he found himself developing a small crush on you. Instead of acting on it, however, John maintained a level of professionalism with you. First of all, he was your direct superior. In additional, he couldn’t bring himself to rob you of your youth as you were closer to Ghost's age than the old man. And besides, he suspected that something was brewing between you and Ghost with how close you two were and he wasn’t going to get in the middle of that. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t have you.

“So, what are we talking about?” you asked. Ghost tried to change the topic but Gaz beat him to it.

“I was here asking the cap'n why he hasn’t gotten married yet. But your buddy here thought we were doing too much,” informed Gaz with mischief in his eyes. Soap let out a deep chuckle as Ghost let out a disappointed sigh.

“Oooh wait, I want to know the answer, because not to be weird, but you’re an absolute catch, Captain. I’m surprised you don’t have someone waiting for you back home,” you let out. Clearly, the alcohol was starting to affect your self control.

With all the attention on him, John took a swig from his beer for some instant courage. “It’s not like I haven’t wanted to. I just haven’t had the best of luck finding a woman after my fiancée left.”

“What!” you and the boys gasped in unison. Now Price was regretting this whole night. Letting out an exasperated breath, John shared his tragic story.

Of how he was engaged with his high school sweetheart, Anna. How Anna and him planned to get married after his first deployment. But, something went wrong and Price accidentally caused his lieutenant at the time to break his leg. Feeling guilty, he signed up Anna to take care of the man while John and the rest of the team finished the mission. And after a month out in the desert, John came back to find his lieutenant shagging his fiancée. Heartbroken, the now-SAS captain left and threw himself into his work. The last he heard of them was that they got married as they kindly sent him an invitation. Everyone stared at John, in disbelief at his story.

“That is horrible, Cap'n. I didn’t mean to pry. If I had known, I wouldn’t have asked,” apologized Gaz. Soap and Ghost seconded him. Price just sheepishly smiled, assuring them it was fine.

“IT’S NOT FINE!” you asserted as you slammed your beer on the table. Your eyes burned with anger. You immediately turned to the team and waved your arms. “We need to do something about this!” you incredulously announced.

“And I think you need to stop drinking,” said Ghost as he grabbed your beer.

“Back off,” you said as you pulled your beer away. “I say we call Laswell, borrow some nuclear codes, and blow them up!”

“Oh, she for sure needs to stop drinking,” joked Soap. Gaz and Ghost broke out in a deep laugh, amused by your suggestion. You looked at the men with wide eyes, unable to understand why they weren’t ready to start a riot. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe someone could do such a thing to their fiancée and teammate. As a victim of cheating yourself, your heart ached for John.

You turned your gaze to Price and reached for his hand. John felt his face burn as your fingers intertwined with his. You looked deeply into his eyes and shared, “John, I know we haven’t known each other for long, but just know that what Anna and your lieutenant did to you is absolutely unacceptable and if I could,” you paused to take in a deep breath. John couldn’t help but feel shy under your gaze. “I would get revenge for you… just say the word.” Ghost pulled you back, letting you know that was enough.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” admitted Price. As much as it hurt, John learned to live with the betrayal. It wasn’t the last time he would be betrayed so he tried not to dwell too much on it. Sure, it severely hurt his view on romance but he was a SAS soldier for Christ's sake, he didn’t necessarily have time for it either.

Soap immediately changed topics, opting to talk about his recent slew of dates and how each one was a dud. Price tried to pay attention to his sergeant’s antics but found himself glancing at you as you opted to scroll on your phone instead. Whatever you were looking for, you seemed determined.

After half an hour of Soap talking, you started to whisper in Ghost’s ear, shoving your phone in the lieutenant’s face. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a clear sign that he was amused by whatever you were showing him.

“What’s got you two so cozy over there?” asked Soap with a slight lilt in his voice.

“Nothing,” you sang. You looked up at Price. “Quick question, can Ghost and I get next weekend off to go to,” you paused to look at your phone, “Edinburgh?”

“Why?” His heart sank. Maybe you and Ghost were a lot closer than he thought.

Ghost laughed. “Seems like our little spy here found your old lieutenant and ex and wants to pay them a visit.”

“I just want to talk... promise.”

Soap and Gaz immediately grabbed your phone, curious to see the woman who broke their captain’s heart.

“That's her?!" shouted Gaz. He immediately stopped when Price shot him a glare.

“And who’s the man next to her? Her dad?” inquired Soap as Gaz handed him your phone. Price took a peak at it. His eyes widened.

“Nope, I think that’s my old lieutenant. Lt Murphy,” informed Price. He didn’t expect to see his old lieutenant look so sad. He remembered how the man used to exude strength and respect, something that John admired when he was younger. Now it looked like the years finally caught up to him.

“Well, whoever he is, he needs to make his Facebook likes private. It’s clear he has a type,” you added as you grabbed your phone. The man’s account made your skin crawl. You couldn’t believe that such a disgusting man was able to steal your boss’ fiancée right under his nose.

“So what do you say… can we get next weekend off?” you asked again, throwing out your best puppy dog eyes to Price. Your desire to defend your captain was making John feel so good but so wrong at the same time. Ghost was a lucky man.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, you and I have the ball next week,” informed Price. To his dismay, Price had been called to London to be this year’s distinguished guest at the annual military gala. John absolutely hated the event as instead of celebrating the real valiant efforts of soldiers like his men, it was a just a sad dick measuring contest between men who forgot what real bravery was. The only silver lining was his plus one, you.

“Oh fuck, you’re right,” you recalled. You grabbed Ghost by his arm and told him to hold off on the plan which made the masked man chuckle. Price gripped his beer a little tighter to refrain from lunging at his teammate. At least he had you to himself next weekend.

— — —

“I really can’t believe you forgot to pack deodorant,” you playfully scolded your captain. After checking in to the hotel, you and Price made a quick trip to the store.

“Well, we’re not all as sharp as you, love,” he quipped. Love. That got your heart beating. Despite the boys calling you love regularly, it only ever made your heart flutter when Price said it. You knew it wasn't right, but you yearned for the man next to you. No one knew but Ghost who quickly became your confidant. However, you knew that John wasn't interested as he always kept you at arm's length, forcing you to be content with just being his co-worker.

You and Price immediately split up once inside. Price made his way towards the men’s toiletries while you perused the surrounding area.

As you looked at some vitamins, you heard a woman shriek your captain’s name. You peered over and felt your eyes almost jump out of your head. In front of John Price was a blonde woman close to his age greeting him like he was an old friend. But she was nothing close to that as it was Anna, his cheating ex-fiancée. The audacity of that woman as she tried to catch up with John like it wasn’t her fault for why it’s been a “long time no see.”

Seeing your captain look so uncomfortable made you see red. You quickly grabbed a nearby product, switched your ring from one finger to another, and made your way to Price with a plan in mind

— — —

John never wanted to die more in his life. Anna, who was once the love of his life before she discarded him like trash, stood in front of him, trying to make the most awkward small talk ever.

“So John, how have you been?” she asked.

Before John could answer, he felt a smooth hand run around his waist, dropping something in his basket. His breath got stuck in his throat when he realized it was you. You pressed up against him, head on his shoulder. He turned his head to find your face a mere few inches away. You flashed him a wide smile, eyes shining with love and adoration.

“Found what we’re looking for, baby,” you said with a wink. John looked down to see that you had dropped a big box of condoms in his basket. His mouth salivated. You giggled as you grabbed on to his arm, completely attaching yourself to his side. He must be dreaming.

“Who’s this, John?” interrupted Anna. Despite having a smile on her face, her voice sounded tense, almost accusatory.

“This is (Y/N), my—“

“Fiancée,” you finished. You extended your hand out, showing off a ring on your fourth finger. You quickly pulled it back and placed a quick kiss on John’s cheek, further staking your claim on the man. John smiled back as he realized what you were doing. He found himself falling for you more.

“Oh wow, congrats! Can’t wait to get an invite,” quipped Anna. John felt your grip tighten around his arm.

You looked up at John, confusion written on your face. Turning back to Anna, you innocently asked, “I’m sorry, but who are you? I don’t think John’s told me about you.” John knew that hit a cord in his former fiancée as she always needed to be the center of attention.

Before Anna could say anything, a rough voice boomed from the back. “How many fucking times have I told you not to walk away while— John?” John’s day just had to get worse as Lt. Nick Murphy stood in front of him, next to his former fiancée, eyes wide at seeing Price.

“Wow, look at you, you’re all grown up now. Tell me what are you up to these days?” asked the man as he puffed out his chest. With you wrapped on his arm, John felt a burst of confidence surge through him. He straightened his posture and proudly shared his promotion to captain for special forces. John had to admit that it felt good to see his former lieutenant shrink a bit when he said that.

"Good for you, my boy. But I do have to ask, who's the cute thing wrapped around your arm?" he asked all smugly. John didn't like the way he looked at you. John instinctually grabbed your hand and proclaimed you as his fiancée.

"Who would have thought that John Price would have grown up to be a cradle robber?" joked the man. Price felt himself sink a little. Sure, you were slightly younger than the man, but he didn't think that the age gap was that obvious.

"Oh please, I had to practically beg the man to go on a date with me," you defended him with a giggle. Unable to read the room, Murphy continued to small talk and asked what brought you both here. You immediately jumped in and gushed about how your man was this year's distinguished guest at the gala. John liked the way you claimed him as yours. But unfortunately for the both of you, they too were here for the celebration.

"You know what, John? Why don't you and the girl come over for dinner tonight? We're renting an apartment in the city. Anna here can cook us some dinner and we can all catch up over some beers," announced Murphy.

"Fiancée," mumbled John. Pretend or not, he was proud to call you his. You tugged on his arm, similar to when an owner pulls on their dog's leash to stop them from lunging. You laid your head on his arm, waiting for John's response.

John was a good soldier and a decent captain, but when he accepted the invitation, he knew he wasn't a good man.

-- -- --

"Are you sure you're fine with this?" Price asked the millionth time as you reached the London apartment. Dressed in a cute sundress that accentuated all of the right parts, you fixed Price's collar, making sure that your fiancé looked the part.

"Yes, John." You rolled your eyes. "I don't think you realize how badly I want to see you win here," you said as you smoothed out the wrinkles on his shoulders. You had to admit, your captain looked good in a white button up. "And don't be scared to touch me, okay? We really have to sell this if we want to win." John laughed at your words which made your cheeks warm.

"Of course, love." There it was again. Walking hand in hand, you both walked to the door.

"Wait," you said. You unbuttoned the first few button's of John's shirt. "Show her what she missed out on." You couldn't help but feel pride at seeing Price's cheeks turned slightly red. Clearing his throat, John knocked. You immediately wrapped yourself around his arm and pressed a small kiss on his cheek at the door opened.

Anna opened the door and excitedly greeted John. The woman was not afraid to hide her distaste towards you as venom dripped in your greeting. Ushering you both in, you and John found Murphy sitting in the living room, beer in hand, lazily watching television.

"John, my boy! Take a seat. Dinner should be ready soon," he hollered. John took a seat on the recliner as he refused to sit on the couch next to his old lieutenant. Without shame, the old man patted the space next to him, calling you over. Your skin prickled as you recalled his type which you unfortunately fit perfectly.

Before you could deny his offer, John immediately pulled you in his lap. "No need. She already has the best seat in the house." He planted a loud kiss on your cheek. Fuck. You knew John was strong, but feeling him so close further proved the man he was. Feeling tonight's host scan your figure, you settled yourself further on your captain's lap.

"John, I made your favor-- oh. Well look at you, someone got comfortable," commented Anna as she walked in with a plate of sausage rolls. Unlike her husband, she glared at you. You just giggled to further get under her skin.

"Sure did," added John as he adjusted you on his lap. Quickly, Murphy and John engaged in some small talk over tonight's football game. John kept a gentle grasp on your waist, occasionally kissing you on the cheek whenever the conversation lulled. Despite being in the warm embrace of your captain, your blood ran cold whenever Murphy's eyes trailed over your body.

Eventually, Anna called you all over to the dining table as she finished cooking. Dinner started off quiet as the tension in the room became too obvious to ignore. Eventually, Murphy decided to speak up.

"So tell me, John, how did you meet this pretty thing?" You loathed this man.

John choked on his food, realizing that neither of you had settled on a backstory. You could sense your captain's hesitation. Grabbing the hand next to you, you decided to take the lead.

"I know it's kinda cliche but I was actually his assistant," you began. "I tried being professional, but the heart wants want it wants. You guys might understand." Feigning ignorance, you looked past the knowing looks in your hosts' eyes and turned your gaze to Price.

"He is literally everything that a woman could want... kind, strong, resilient... handsome. He turned me down at first as John is nothing but respectful, but now after 2 amazing years, we're set to get married in a few months." You kissed him on his lips to seal the deal.

Maybe it was too much, but if this was going to be the only time you could say he was yours, you were going to fully savor it. Besides it only secured the farce that you two had set up as Anna had a tight smile on her face and Murphy stared at John with clear jealousy in his eyes.

Anna cleared her throat in an attempt to ease her jealousy. "Well isn't that a cute story, right Nick?" Murphy just grunted in agreement. However, Anna was not going to let you have the last word as a smirk appeared on her face. "You know what John, I always imagined you settling down with a girl from back home... you know someone more of your caliber." Your chest tightened. You really couldn't believe the gall on this woman. Before you could respond, John stepped up.

"Funny, I also imagined settling down with someone different, but life has a funny way of working itself out," John said with food in mouth. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. Your heart melted. John really had your back both on the field and here. Anna's face turned red, maybe out of embarrassment or anger. You weren't sure.

-- -- --

Dinner continued with a few jabs here in there from tonight's host, but John could care less. Right now, he was just a man in love, engaged to a beautiful woman. Despite the circumstances and less than ideal dinner companions, John wanted to stay here as long as he could so he could still say you were his. However, his bladder had other thoughts.

Price was set on holding it in, opting to bounce his leg to ease the need. However, as observant as always, you gently laid your hand on his bouncing knee and asked Murphy where the bathroom was.

"Oh, the wife will show you. Anna!" he commanded. John threw you a sheepish smile with eyes asking if you would be fine. After you assured him with a small peck, John followed his ex-fiancée to the much needed bathroom.

Finally alone, John let himself loose. He felt his cheeks warm as he recalled every kiss and touch you two exchanged throughout the night. If the night goes on any longer, John would have no choice but completely claim you. Fuck whatever you and Ghost had. It would just be you and John Price, loving boyfriend, loyal fiancé, and eventually your devoted husband.

John washed those thoughts away as water ran through his hands. As much as he wanted you, he couldn't do that to his lieutenant. Ghost also deserved happiness and there it was incarnated as you. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he found himself suddenly being pushed back. Catching him off guard, Anna shoved him against the sink.

She cried out his name and shoved her face into his chest. "Can we please talk? I hate how things ended between us!" Price couldn't believe this woman.

"Fine, but get off of me," he ceded as he gently pushed her off. Anna wiped her nose and sniffled despite not having a single tear on her face. She took in a deep breath and pouted.

"I know what happened was wrong, but I think I was labeled the bad guy without having a chance to defend myself.”

"Well, I wouldn't call shagging my lieutenant while I'm away as heroic."

And instead of owning up to her mistake, Anna blamed it on John as 'he was gone all of the time.' As John heard the woman's excuses, he couldn't believe that he ever loved her. Now that you gave him a small taste of love, despite it being just a facade, he realized that what he and Anna had was nothing close to it.

Anna placed a hand on his chest, interrupting John from his thoughts. "And now seeing you here as a successful captain, I can't help but feel bad for..." Oh, maybe she was going to apologize after all. "...pushing you into the arms of that slag out there." What. "A man like you deserves a classy woman. So tell you what, I'll come back and we can pick up where we left off." What.

Any affection he possibly still harbored for this woman completely disintegrated. He got in her face. "You watch your mouth," he spat out. "(Y/N) is and will always be a better woman than you. You really think I would entertain the likes of you again when I have literal perfection by my side." Before Anna could rebuttal, a loud shriek followed by a resonant slap rung through the apartment.

John immediately rushed back to find Murphy hunched over, hand on his cheek, and you next to him with your dress slightly disheveled.

"You fucking bitch," roared Murphy, lifting his hand to strike you. John ran forward and pinned the man against the table, holding him down by his neck. His heart broke when he saw tears welling in your eyes.

John looked at you and asked, "What happened?" He tried softening his voice, but he couldn't completely mask his anger. He felt horrible. This was all his fault.

"The fucking cunt here seduced me, that’s what happened," responded Murphy through bates breath.

Further pushing him down, John spat out, "I wasn't talking you." He asked you again. With a wobble in your voice, you shared how Murphy made a move on you. Despite denying him, he grabbed you and tried kissing you. Left with no choice, you slapped him across the face.

"Don't act all innocent. You were literally begging for it all night," fought Murphy. John was in disbelief. Was this really the man he admired all those years ago? Of course it was. This was the same man that stole his fiancée. Ready to pummel his face, he looked back at you one more time and immediately calmed down. You looked so broken. Not wanting to further aggravate you, he steered away from violence... for now.

John lifted up the man and threw him towards his wife. "Honestly, you two are perfect for one another," he spat out, venom clear in his voice. “Two muppets that think way too highly of themselves when they have no reason to.”

He grabbed you by the hand and continued, “you two are nothing compared to (Y/N). I don't even come close but everyday I try to be a better man just for her unlike you two who seem to get worse with every day. Don’t you dare come tomorrow or I’ll promise I'll make both of your lives a living hell.” And with that, John made his way out with you in hand.

“Oh please, who do you think you are?,” accused Murphy, following closely behind.

You turned around. You had enough. With fire in your eyes, you decided to spit back. “He might not be able to do anything but I promise you, I can and will. I have access to enough information to destroy anyone's life, especially low-lifes like yours. So don’t you dare insinuate that either of us are beneath either of you. Because at the end of the day, John is a great man and I am the successful woman right by his side. I know my and John’s worth and trust me, neither of you come close.”

“You bitch!” snarled Murphy as he lunged for you. It seemed that he forgot that John was still an active soldier as the SAS captain immediately threw a punch in his face. Anna rushed to the man as blood gushed out his nose. With that, you and John stepped out of that disgusting apartment.

— — —

The ride home was quiet. The only sign that your captain was alive was the gentle hold that he had on your hand. Occasionally, his thumb would rub your hand but when you would squeeze back in recognition, he would stop. His face was blank. But you knew your captain. He was probably taking the blame for the entire night which was far from the truth.

The ride up the elevator was also quiet. You snapped when it seemed like the walk to the rooms was going to be quiet too.

“Okay John, what’s wrong?”

Silence.

“John, I’m not going to play this game with you. Tell me what’s wrong?”

Price stopped. He opened his mouth but immediately shut it, hesitant to speak

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you pleaded, “John, please, talk to me.” Your captain hung his head down and began to talk.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation. I should have known better. They disrespected you and I—.”

You interrupted him. “John, you weren’t the one who disrespected. If anything you defended me and made sure I was okay.” You cradled his face. “So stop blaming yourself for the actions of others, okay?” John grunted in agreement, eyes looking down.

“John,” you warned. He looked you in your eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled out. You laughed at his boyish antics.

In no time, you both reached your rooms that were side by side. Once inside, John Price would no longer be your fiancé. Before you entered your room, you called for him one last time.

“I just want you to know that I meant every word today. You really are the greatest man I know,” you said with a smile. You wanted to say more, tell him everything, but you knew you couldn’t. This would have to do. With that, you wished him a goodnight and slipped inside.

— — —

John walked in his room with a heavy heart.

Despite your praise, John didn’t consider himself a good man. A good man doesn’t pine after another man’s woman. Ghost truly was a lucky man. John just had to make do with having you so close but so far.

Thanks for reading! — Folded’s Page Guide + Masterlist

Author’s Notes: First ever COD fanfic! Woot woot! I hope y'all enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts! Imma be honest, everything I know about COD has been aquired through fanfic so if anything is wrong, oops. Also if this has been done before, please let me know as I genuinely didn't know.

Also super sorry for the lack of British/ Scottish accent in the characters. Literally have no clue on how to do it!

I'm still a pretty novice writer so advice and suggestions are always appreciated. I plan on writing more COD fics so if you're interested stick around.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 2

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Thank you so much for giving this little idea so much love 💕 it means a lot! Thank you for taking the time to read and share your thoughts

Word count: 2,695

The house was quiet, it was probably pretty late by now, but at least the initial commotion was calmer now. Tommy’s eyes focused on the flame flickering on the bedside table, the room was quiet. Then his eyes darted to Y/N… his best friend seemed so vulnerable, so small. He had seen the marks her father left on her back it was a horrible sight and now it looked worse. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough by the unplanned pregnancy, Y/N would have to deal with the physical pain as well.

He studied Y/N’s face for a minute, taking in the swollen eyes from crying too much, his heart aches for her, she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She held a special place close to his heart since they were kids.

“Do you’ve a minute?” Polly asked.

As she realized the doubt in her nephew’s eyes, she assured him that Y/N would sleep for a while. After cleaning her injuries and adding a strong ointment to the wounds on her back, Polly checked the baby and gave Y/N a tea to help her sleep.

Tommy gave Y/N one more look and covered her arm with the thin sheet, but was careful enough to not hurt her before he walked out of what was once Ada’s room in Watery Lane.

“What happened?” He found Polly downstairs stomping her cigarette on the ashtray. Earlier, she didn’t ask questions, she just rushed to take care of Y/N’s wounds just she had done so many times when they were kids, and eventually teenagers on the brick of trouble every time.

“Y/N is pregnant, the son of a bitch told her he wasn’t sure the baby is his.”

“And that’s why her father hit her like that?!” She asked scandalized. “He’s an animal.”

“How’s the baby, really?” He asked with genuine concern.

Polly sighed. “She was smart to offer her back, so the belt wouldn’t hit in any compromising area, but I’d keep her in bed just in case.” She suggested.

“Tommy,” Scudboat apologized for the interruption, “we found the vehicle, Scott has been hiding in the house, do you want the men to enter and get him?”

Leaning on the counter, Tommy considered his options for a few seconds. “No, keep someone watching his house at all times, he might try to escape.”

As the blinder left him again alone with his aunt, Tommy expressed out loud a decision he had already made.

“We can’t leave her alone Pol.” He clenched his jaw. “She’s on her own, that bastard just used her and her family won’t help her with the baby yo-you saw how they hurt her.”

“I know.” She added breathlessly stopping for a second as she got the kettle. “They turned their backs on her when she needed them the most.”

“Sort a doctor tomorrow morning to make sure they’ll be fine.”

“And then what?” Pol stared at him.

“I just got a house, still needs a few things… I can take Y/N there, because if she stays here, she’ll see her parents all damn day.”

“In the meantime if she needs another place, there’s my house as well.”

Tommy folded his arms against his chest and nodded profusely.

“Poor Y/N… she’ll have a hard time with people pointing fingers at her all the time.” Polly shook her head.

Tommy remembered the long stares and whispers over Ada, when she suddenly got married and started showing no long after. He had been forced to walk around with the gun in his hand for several weeks. They even kicked her out of a boutique once she tried buying a dress and Tommy had to stop by with a few men until his sister got the dress that she wanted.

“I’ll blind anyone who dares to do something against Y/N.” He stated firmly pouring some whiskey finally.

“What happened?” Finn asked looking from his brother to his aunt.

“If anyone asks,” Tommy pointed a finger at him, “you haven’t seen Y/N here alright?”

Finn frowned. “But I haven’t seen her.”

“Exactly.” Tommy agreed walking towards the fireplace, he added a few pieces of wood and then took a seat in front of it. Pondering on the previous events, worry installed on his shoulders of what might happen. Anger spreading on his body at the thought of his best friend being humiliated by her useless boyfriend, after all she had done for the prick and he had the audacity to doubt the baby was his. Thanks to her, Scott got the chance to be a blinder, and with that endless benefits.

One of his men knocked desperately and as Tommy went to see what was happening he heard the best news of the day.

“We followed Scott, he was at the train station.”

He took the remaining of his drink in a swing. “Was?”

“The boys took him to the warehouse, he had a ticket to escape.”

Tommy gave his aunt a look. “If Y/N wakes up, send someone to let me know.”

As Polly saw them disappear, her eyes darted upwards, in a silent prayer. She knew Scott wouldn’t live a day without regretting his decision. Taking her cup of tea with her, she decided to look for some clothes and clean sheets to provide to Y/N while they sorted everything out.

Y/N was considered part of the family, she and Tommy had always been close, in a way Y/N was the only person who could understand her nephew. The one who he trusted the most.

She decided to go to the church the following morning to light a candle and pray for Y/N and the baby.

Taking a deep breath and one of her eyes cracked a bit open. As everything started to hurt so bad, her chest felt heavy as memories from what had happened hit Y/N hard. Word by word her parents had said replayed in her mind.

A single tear rolled down from her eye to her nose. With trembling fingers, Y/N moved one of her hands to the yet non-existent bump. It was still early to start showing but she couldn’t help but think her baby was starting to grow inside her.

Despite the circumstances, Y/N felt like giving her own life for this baby. It didn’t matter that Scott or her family decided to leave her.

Tommy opened the door carefully to not wake Y/N up, but to his surprise she was already awake.

“Go on… say it.” She was waiting for Tommy’s lecture.

Scott had turned his back just like her parents. All the people she thought she could rely on showed her to not take them for granted.

But Tommy shook his head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked taking the chair in the corner to place it next to the bed.

“Like a total failure.” She admitted with tears in her eyes.

“Y/N.” Tommy didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, to help her. “Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly and covered one of her hands with his own.

Y/N started biting the inside of her cheek to prevent more tears to come out. But looked at her best friend anyways.

“You’re not alone, I know you’ve a lot to take in at the moment… but you can count on me for everything.” He offered sincerely.

She didn’t feel worth any of this, she felt dirty, stupid for believing in Scott’s love words. How could she have been so naïve?

“Why?” Her voice broke. “Why do you want to help me when I’ve done everything wrong?”

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Tommy swallowed hard. “Don’t let them get in your head, I know how it is, but this isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is! I gave myself away to Scott, I’m just another whore.”

Tommy lost his control, he didn’t want her to feel this way.

“You’re not a whore. You did it out of love and that’s not something to regret.”

“I deserve this, my father is right.” Y/N shook her head, she angrily wiped a tear away.

“No, you don’t deserve this shit happening. Y/N you’re a good woman an-”

Y/N’s grandmother asked if she could walk into the room. Tommy felt grateful for the interruption because he didn’t know how to deal this situation. He didn’t want to say that he had warned Y/N about her now ex boyfriend and make her feel worse than she already did.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

At least he got a chance last night at the warehouse to make the bastard pay for playing with Y/N’s heart. Tommy made it very clear he better disappear from her life for good because if he ever saw him again, he wouldn’t let him walk twice alive.

He had been a few punches away from killing Scott. But the image of Y/N holding a baby in her arms stopped him… he wouldn’t be responsible for killing that baby’s father, even though Scott definitely deserved it. So he limited himself to leave a little warning, a message.

“This is a mess, Y/N feels so guilty for getting into this.” Tommy announced walking into the kitchen. He found his sister and aunt making breakfast.

Tommy’s eyes fixed on Karl and he was taken back in time to when Ada thought he had betrayed Freddie. He was a lot of things, but he’d never cause a pain like that to a child. At least not one of his own people.

From the beginning, he knew Scott was a piece of shit, but Y/N seemed so happy and thrilled, how would he step in to destroy her happiness? He never imagined he’d have to help her pick up the broken pieces of her heart. The sudden presence of Polly close to him made him snap back into reality, she stepped closer to help him light the cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

Tommy moved his eyes towards his nephew, he was playing with a truck on the floor. Perhaps he was overthinking but he didn’t know what would he answer when Y/N’s child asked about his or her father.

“Ada would you talk to Y/N?”

“About what?”

“When you got pregnant…” he began with embarrassment in his eyes to talk about that. “It’s something similar.”

They’ve come a long way ever since, but Tommy still regretted the time they spent apart. Family was everything to him.

“And what do you want me to say Tommy? Her boyfriend dumped her, it’s not the same I got married.”

He sighed in frustration. “I just want Y/N to feel our support.”

“You’re going to make her feel overwhelmed! I know how noisy you can be.” Ada protested.

Tommy scoffed, he felt offended by his sister’s words. He just wanted to help Y/N.

“I’ll talk to her.” Polly intervened placing some food on a tray to give Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Ada clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. Her eyes boring into her brother.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

But Ada turned the corner of her mouth down and shuddered. “Nothing it’s just strange to see you go above and beyond for someone.”

As she walked out of the kitchen, Tommy found himself thinking of her words. She was telling the truth but… but how could he stand there and do nothing for Y/N?

He knew her like the palm of his hand, she had been by his side since forever, encouraging him to follow his dreams, telling him the truth right in his face when he messed up. Even he didn’t want to hear it.

There was no other way to do this, she’d have his entire support through the pregnancy and whatever she might need afterwards.

“Mr. Shelby!” Y/N’s grandmother shouted from upstairs.

Tommy skipped a few steps and when he reached Ada’s old room, he found Polly holding Y/N’s hair back, she had been sick and her grandmother was trying to hold her trembling body.

“I’m sorry Pol. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry for? With everything you’ve been through it’s not a surprise your stomach can’t handle food. Tommy help me here.” His aunt asked him to take her place so Y/N could use his strength as support. “Take her to that chair, while I sort this out.”

Following Polly’s instructions, Tommy lead Y/N carefully to the chair in the corner while his aunt and Y/N’s grandma changed the bedsheets. Ada joined them a moment later with a glass of water. “Try some crackers, it helped me with sickness during my pregnancy.” She offered taking the sheets downstairs.

Y/N groaned feeling embarrassed and mortified for everything. As soon as she smelled the food her stomach protested, but she felt bad for telling Polly something so she decided to just eat the food. But the moment she got the first bite, she couldn’t help it and it ended in her throwing up and making a mess.

“I want to thank you for taking care of her.” Y/N’s grandmother admitted taking her hand.

“I was just thinking…” Tommy started to say, “You could come with me to the new place I got.” Then he turned to face her grandmother. “It’s outside the city, away from curious eyes and it’s surrounded by trees.”

“No.” Y/N stated.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea dear.” Her grandma smiled at Tommy. “Fresh air could help her.”

Y/N sighed frustrated with herself, with the situation.

“Think about it, yeah?” Tommy suggested. “That way you won’t run into your parents everyday, and you can walk to the lake to relax.”

“He’s right.” Her grandma approved. “You’ll feel grateful to be away from the drama.”

“Perfect! Looks like you got it all figured out Tommy.” She snapped. “Just like my mother who wanted to send me to her aunt’s farm.”

She knew this wasn’t fair, he was the only one offering support, but she couldn’t help it, she felt on the brick, like everything was falling apart. And she was angry with herself.

Polly pushed Tommy away and gently grabbed Y/N’s arm. “Sweetheart all of this worry isn’t right for the baby. For the first time, I think going to that house is the best idea.”

“Unfortunately your choices are limited my darling.” Y/N’s grandma spoke softly. “But you should know that these wonderful people are trying to help you.”

She was trying to be strong, to pretend this didn’t hurt her, but truth is he world was crashing down. And this was only the beginning.

That seemed to click on Y/N’s mind because she gave a small nod, her lower lip gave in and it started quivering, then the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Emotions took over her.

Her grandma pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her arms protectively around her just like she did when she was a child. “The Lord removed some people from your life but look at the angels he placed right away.”

Tommy saw Polly dabbing the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

“This baby will grow surrounded by people who really love him or her.” He assured her.

“Now how about I help you take a bath? The doctor should arrive shortly.” Polly offered rubbing her back.

Her grandma squeezed between them. “I better go, said I was going to church.”

“Thank you for coming gran.” Y/N gave her a tight hug.

As they moved to get things done, Polly stopped her nephew before he could walk downstairs. “You’re brave for helping her like this.”

“I can’t leave her on her own.” He tried to explain, but Polly interrupted him.

“Your mother raised you right.” She then, in an unexpected move touched his shoulder. “She’d be proud of you.”

Part 3

Master list

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