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cordeliawhohung · 2 months

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Leftovers [3/3]

Simon Riley x fem!Reader | a non-canon addition to my mafia!141 series

part 1 | part 2 | playlist

you love him

warnings: non-con!!!! attempted suicide, self harm, abusive relationships, spanking/impact, threats, stalking, mind the tags!!! dead dove do not eat

wc: 5.2k

The dilapidating motel room that you were unfortunate enough to take refuge in smelled like Simon. Vaguely, anyway.

Damp air greeted you the moment you opened the door to your room, and the old, wet scent of cigarette smoke nearly suffocated you. You flipped the lights on where they greeted you with a flicker and buzz, yet hardly did anything to illuminate the dull wallpaper and discolored carpet. Every documentary about real life crime warned you against places like that; it was the type of room where people entered yet never exited without a gaping hole in their chest.

Its unpleasant welcome nearly had you second guessing your escape, and a pang of trepidation echoed throughout your chest. Could you really subjugate yourself to a night alone and survive? Solitarily rotting in bed just like you used to as a pet? A shaky breath expelled past your lips as you tossed your bag onto the foot of the bed as you locked the door behind you. No, that was a different kind of solitude. Not one that you were forced into. Not something intentionally loveless.

That was freedom. The only reason it terrified you was because you had never experienced it before.

The digital clock on the nightstand read 2:36 which did little to quell the lump in your throat. If Simon wasn’t already home by then, you knew he would be soon. He would come home to an empty apartment, devoid of the woman he so fondly called sweetheart, and that made your stomach protest something fierce. You had only ever experienced short bursts of his anger previously over minor transgressions you had committed previously. Ones that you quickly solved lest he completely burst. If he had gotten upset by you merely asking to have your phone back, you didn’t even want to imagine the rage that would erupt within him when he realized you were gone.

A heavy breath expelled from your chest as you sat on the edge of the bed. A thin layer of grime seemed to cover the sheets, but you knew you couldn’t expect anything more from one of the cheapest and low rated hotels in London. It was your own fault for trying to lay as low as possible; you weren’t sure there was enough money on your card to afford anywhere without bloodstains, anyway. Ignoring the uncomfortable filth that surely stained your clothes, you fished your phone out from your pocket where the screen lit up brighter than the light above your head.

John’s text messages illuminated the screen, and you felt your throat grow tight again. His terrible wish for you to be there with him and Mrs. Price, and that fucking video of the ultrasound. You still weren’t fully convinced that it wasn’t all some sort of cruel joke. Simon said he had told John about everything. How you were done with them, how you were tired of being treated like nothing. So why the messages?

Unless Simon had lied about that, too.

An unsteady sigh passed between your lips as your thumbs hovered over the screen. While John and his wife hadn’t exactly been the most loving, they had never once lied to you. Not that you knew of, anyway. Since you couldn’t get the truth out of Simon, maybe you could get it out of them, yet the task was so daunting you swore you would throw up again.

So you sat there, hunched over on the side of the bed with your phone in hand, until the red glow of the digital clock read just past three in the morning. Frayed nerves hindered your brain’s ability to hold a coherent thought, and you had spent so much time sitting there trying to think of something to say that your phone was nearly dead. Nothing good would come out of a conversation with John that late in the night, if he was still even awake. With lethargic thumbs, you typed out a quick message asking him to call you in the morning, and then the screen went dark as you locked it.

Answers. That’s all you wanted. But your fuzzy and exhausted brain couldn’t handle that. You had spent the last few hours running like your life depended on it — running like a bad pet. Come morning, you would get what you wanted. In the meantime, you would pray sleep would take you away.

That night was the first night that you slept fully dressed since you started living with Simon. Always had to have you bare with your naked body up against his while you slept. Such easy access to your cunt all he had to do was slither his hands between your legs to get you purring like a kitten. Some poor touch-starved creature that would do anything for the attention of something with teeth too sharp to love properly.

You tried not to think too hard about it as you set your phone face down on the nightstand and settled into bed. You weren’t brave enough to climb underneath the covers in the fear that something truly might bite you, so you curled up like a cat on top of the comforter. The lights stayed on that night, as it had been so long since you slept alone you weren’t sure you could stomach the darkness. Childish. That thought made you cringe, but that’s what you had been reduced to. Maybe it was all you had ever been.

When you hugged your pillow tight to your core that night, the full weight of the silence around you made your eyes sting. There was no heartbeat to lull you to sleep that night. It was one of the things you remembered craving so dearly when you lived with the Prices, something Simon had provided you without question. You wanted to cry. To mourn the things you had and the things you lost, but you refused to let those walls see your tears.

Once your eyes closed, you swore you only slept for a single moment before they opened to find the summer sun peeking through the tacky curtains. A dull ache in your neck blossomed and radiated from the back of your skull to your shoulder blades, and the sour smell of smoke had permeated into your clothes and hair. Rolling over to stare at the digital clock revealed that it was just before seven in the morning. You had hardly gotten any sleep at all, yet you already buzzed with anticipation and uneasiness.

An anxious hand reached for your phone where you quickly checked through your notifications. Several junk notifications clogged up your phone since you turned it on. Old emails that you hadn’t checked in months and stupid spam call notifications from weeks back. But John had yet to respond to your text, or even see it, and though that ignited a pit of worry in your stomach, you knew you had to give him time. He always got home late. Him and Mrs. Price probably slept in.

You hated that you still had their routine so ingrained in your mind.

No matter. There was a plan you had in your mind; steps you had to take in order to really be free from your old life. The first step was getting clean, and then getting the fuck out of there.

Time didn’t exist in the shower, and neither did the water bill. You had quite the time watching droplets of water dance on the foggy glass door as you stood underneath the stream's embrace. Each time one fell, another formed to take its place before falling too, like some neverending dance. You watched the streaks form as you washed your body with the skin stripping complimentary body wash the motel left on the counter. It hardly got sudsy, and it didn’t leave you feeling refreshed, but it replaced that stale smoke scent with the vague idea of green apples, and that was enough for you.

A thick veil of mist greeted you when you exited the shower, and you blindly nabbed a towel to dry your body off with. Its fabric wasn’t at all kind on your skin either, yet you still found yourself wrapping it around your body before exiting the bathroom. The sun had changed positions in the room as the morning meandered along, and you found yourself praying that John had finally answered you as you entered the main part of the room.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

Simon sat on the edge of the motel bed with his elbows on his knees. A dim light illuminated the silvery scars on his face as he scrolled through the phone in his hands. Your phone. His dark eyes broke away from the screen to look up at you, and the twitch in the corner of his mouth left your mouth dry. He turned the screen to face you where he then gently shook it as if it were contraband; something you weren’t supposed to have. Though you couldn’t read what it said, you could see John had responded to your request to call him.

“You’ve been busy. Been naughty,” Simon continued as he turned your phone off and tossed it next to him. “Didn’t even leave a note. Just think you could up and leave?”

Your hands gripped the knot in your towel as your body began to turn to stone. It was difficult to tell if you trembled because of the cool air of the room or if you trembled because of the fear that coursed through your veins. Either way, your mouth wasn’t able to form any response to his biting tone.

At your silence, Simon tapped his fingertips on top of your phone, causing it to lightly bounce on the old boxspring mattress. “Decided you had enough of me? Is that it? Wanting to go back to John? Go back to bein’ a fuckin’ pet?”

“No,” you said once your tongue finally decided to work. “I just… wanted answers.”

“Well, I’m all ears for any questions you have, sweetheart,” Simon snapped.

His tone had you recoiling against the wall, yet you refused to look away from him. If you did, you knew it would give him enough time to pounce like an animal, and he looked almost excited to sink his teeth into you. It was wrong. You thought you would have had more time. Simon wasn’t supposed to find you that quick; no, he wasn’t supposed to find you at all. Yet there he sat, on the edge of your bed, like an owner trying to wrangle a bad dog back home.

“How did you find me?” you asked.

“You used a card. Anything electronic is easy to track, ‘specially in a place like this. All it took was me saying I was your husband to get the lad at the front to give me your room number. Surprised you made it this far on your own, considering how pathetic you are without me,” he said with a sour chuckle.

“My card?” you repeated. “But… you don’t- how do you have access to my account? You can’t track me without-”

“One of the perks of working for John Price,” Simon deadpanned.

Every word that came out of Simon’s mouth unraveled you, and it only got worse. It was as if everything he had ever told you was a lie. How naive of you to think otherwise; of course they were lies. He had lied to you from the very beginning, and instead of running then while your feet were unchained, you chose to ignore it. Hope and pray it would go away. Now, it was too late. Every part of you seemed bound to Simon, and you weren’t sure you could stand to tear yourself from him.

“I thought you said-” you started.

“That I wasn’t working for him anymore? That I told him how you chose to live with me? No,” Simon interrupted. “He’s got too many resources. Besides, no one just ups and leaves the mafia, sweetheart.”

Your bottom lip began to tremble at that word. Mafia. Everyone knew about the violence that plagued London, even someone as much of a recluse as you. You didn’t want to believe him, but it made sense. Why else did John always work late? Why else would he come home some days with scuffed up knuckles? Besides, he only ever seemed to tell the truth when he tried to prod a response out of you. Simon’s smirk was faint but painfully noticeable in the crease of his lips as he tilted his head at you.

“Yeah, figured he didn’t tell you about that,” he huffed. “No one leaves. Not even pets. Not even you. Who do you think was protectin’ you from him this whole time? Who do you think removed his tracker in your phone? Why do you think we always used my money to pay for everything? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be right back where you started. Unloved, neglected and fuckin’ abused.”

His words cut you to pieces worse than anything else ever had. It was worse than learning Mrs. Price was pregnant. Worse than the first time Simon had ever lied to you. Hot, fat tears rolled down your cheeks while your throat constricted so tightly you swore you would choke. You made the mistake of looking away from Simon as a small sob rattled your shoulders. In a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself, you wrapped your arms around your front, keeping your towel in place as your knees nearly buckled.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Simon’s feet were surprisingly soft against the stiff carpet of the motel room, and it took everything in you not to lean into his touch. Warm fingers ghosted against your arms, and something primal and pathetic yearned for more. But you didn’t miss him. Not Simon Riley. You just missed the warmth of someone else; warmth you were certain you could find in someone less hurtful.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Simon urged. His thumbs rubbed against your shoulders, and something that should have felt like knives in your skin felt all too comforting instead. “Let’s go home.”

Some broken part of you wanted to say yes. To slap the band-aid back on and continue to let those pathetic feelings fester inside of you with no air to breathe. It would have been easy to say yes, to follow him back home like a wounded animal and continue to live in your cage. But you were so close to freedom, to living on your own without the need to be chained to anyone else.

You didn’t bother to wipe your tears before looking at Simon. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, making your skin feel clammy. A few more tears blinked free from your eyes, staining your cheeks like glitter as you stiffened your upper lip.

“I can’t,” you finally said, though the words felt like they would kill you. “I don’t want to. I… just wanna be left alone.”

Simon’s face began to morph in front of your eyes. All that softness in his expression hardened into something more firm and demanding; dissapointment. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall that you realized your choice had already been decided for you. No wasn’t an answer. Neither was yes. It had only ever been what Simon had already chosen for you.

“Wasn’t asking,” he warned.

His grip seared your skin through your towel as his hands rested on your hips, but you had nowhere to run. Useless hands pressed against his chest as you tried to fight back against the immoveable object that was Simon Riley. Hot breath fanned across your face when he pressed his forehead to yours, and you tried not to flinch when he yanked your towel off of your body, tossing it aside where it fell in a limp pile by your feet.

“C’mon, you’re smarter than this, arent’cha?” he prompted. Simon began to move backwards, and his firm grip on your waist gave you no choice but to stumble after him. Shame pricked the corners of your ears with a searing heat as he dragged you around, naked, like a dog on a leash. “If you don’t come home, Price’ll find ya. You understand that, yeah sweetheart? I’m the only thing keeping you from an early fuckin’ grave.”

All it took was a simple turn and a harsh shove to get you face first on the bed. The mattress was unforgiving as it hardly gave way underneath your weight, knocking the breath from your lungs. Sweaty palms dug into the crummy comforter as you tried to push yourself up, but once Simon’s knees sunk into the mattress next to you, his hand pushed against the back of your neck, keeping your face into the bed.

“Simon!” you cried. “Wait- please stop. I’m sorry! I just- please don’t. Please, I didn’t mean to upset you I just- there had to be a reason for it! For them to treat me like that!”

Ignoring your pleas, Simon snaked an arm underneath your hips and pulled up, putting your ass on display. An angry hand rested on the crux of your bum where his fingers twitched with anticipation.

“A reason? It’s because they saw you as a fuckin’ pet. Nothin’ more than an animal to feed and play with,” Simon bit. “Until I found ya. Saved you from that shit, didn’t I sweetheart? Then you fuckin’ run out on me. Ruinin’ everything I worked so hard to build for ya. Ungrateful slag.”

“Please stop!” you sobbed, cries half muffled by the bed.

He allowed you no more time to continue to snivel before his hand raised from your bum only to slap against it with a firm palm. Its sting pierced through your skin with such force it stole your breath away, and with Simon’s hand still on the back of your neck, you had nowhere to run from the pain. Your chest heaved with a sob at the sensation, and you felt your feet involuntarily kick behind you.

“Quiet,” he warned, voice dangerously low. “Don’t need you causin’ anymore trouble than you already have.”

Once more his hand came down with a sharp crack where pain prickled across your skin. In some pitiful attempt to ward him off, you reached your arms behind your back as if you could push him away. All it did was make him chuckle as his thumb rubbed against the back of your neck.

“Yeah, ‘nuff of that. Of all of it. I’ll set you straight and take you home and we can forget all about this little stunt of yours,” Simon hummed.

Despite it all, your body could only react viscerally to the thought of returning home with him. That was the day you were supposed to become your own person without being bound to anyone else. Go out on your own and finally live your life as a human rather than a trophy. You were so close to tasting it you could scream.

“I can’t. I can’t…” you whined.

Another spank and your thoughts cut off with a squeak.

“Don’t fuckin’ understand anythin’ do you?” Simon hissed. “Either you leave here with me, or you leave as John’s. He’ll find and track you within a heartbeat, and he won’t be as kind as me. Dunno about you sweetheart, but I’m not gonna sit around and let him take you again. So you leave here with me, or you don’t leave at all.”

Not a single word rose in your mind at his threat. Tears and snot continued to stain the linens underneath you as you took his punishment, and as his hand came down on you once more, you started to believe that you deserved it. Every single bit of it. How ungrateful of you to deny him after everything he had done for you. Keeping you safe. Keeping you away from John. From the worst members of the mafia. Everything he had ever done had been to protect you, right?

“Did you really think I’d let you run off like that? After everythin’ I've done for you?” he continued. His weight shifted on the bed as he slipped from your side to your backside. With his hand no longer on your neck, you were able to take a deep breath, though the air felt stale and salty. “No, my girl doesn’t run away. Not the mother of my kid.”

Ice formed in your veins at his words, and you were too shocked to even cry about it. You blinked rapidly as you raised your head from the bed, and your stomach turned so violently you nearly puked all over the sheets.

“What?” you choked out.

Simon’s hands rubbed over your sore rump as if soothing the pain he inflicted on you only to fall from your skin a moment later. A sharp, distinct clink sounded behind you, followed by the unzipping of his pants.

“It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he asked as he pulled his cock free. “You said it yourself. You want what they have.”

Electricity jolted through your body when the head of Simon’s pre-cum smeared cock tapped the underside of your ass. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hips and raised you higher up, angling you just right so he could press against your cunt. Everything in you screamed to run, but the prey in you knew you wouldn’t get far enough for it to matter.

“You wanted love, so I gave you that. They never fucked you, so I gave you that, too. Just wasn’t enough for you, was it?” Simon droned as he pressed into you. Without your arousal to assist, the stretch of him not only burned, but felt like it tore. Only the head of his cock had made it inside of your constricting cunt, and even that was too much. “Still cryin’ all the time. Still upset. The only thing that they have that we don’t is a kid. If you want one so bad, then I’ll give ya one.”

“Wait, please,” you choked out as you wiggled.

“What’cha so worked up for, sweetheart?” Simon patronized. “With how often I’ve fucked you before, you’re probably already knocked up anyway. No harm in trying a bit more, yeah?”

It was impossible to answer once Simon began to press further into you. Everything within you was wound up so tight with muscles revolting against him as he made you take every painful inch of him. His love had never hurt like that before. Never felt like it tore you open to fix what was never broken in the first place. Not until then as he speared you open with no regard for the way it ripped you to shreds.

It only got worse when he bottomed out, forcing your cunt to take what it didn’t want to. His hips snapped against yours with force so strong you were left breathless. Each agonizing thrust left you a mess as half created sobs erupted from your throat. No amount of begging would get him to change his mind or set you free. This was what you deserved for biting the hand that fed you.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” Simon grunted. Searing anger kept his body going as he fucked you, hands digging into either side of your hips. “A man to fuck you. To be the sweet little trophy wife. Have a cute kid or two. Isn’t it? Say it, sweetheart.”

But you couldn’t. Even if it wasn’t for his cock bullying every breath from your lungs, you didn’t think you would be able to admit to anything. So you dug your face further into the sheets, no longer caring about the filth of it all; you just wanted to hide away as best as you could. Simon wasn’t impressed with your silence, and his hand came down hard against your backside as his relentless pace continued. You could almost feel his blood boiling in his veins from his touch alone.

“I said, say it,” he barked. “Tell me what you want.”

Agonizing aches ripped through your pelvis at the intrusion, and you found your hands pawing at your stomach as if you could soothe the pain. There was no love behind any of his actions. Perhaps there never had been. You just knew that you wanted it to stop.

“You!” you finally wailed. “I want you!”

“‘Course you do. Can’t fuckin’ live without me, can you sweetheart?”

It was enough to satisfy Simon, and he stopped verbally antagonizing you as he continued in his pursuit. Trembling fingers dug into the sheets as you kept your face hidden in the musty bed. It couldn’t go on forever, and as Simon’s hips began to stutter, you knew it would be over soon. You did your best to stifle your whimpering as he approached the end, yet he only seemed to pick up speed as if to egg you on.

In that moment, your mind painfully reminded you of the first time you ever met him. How he just appeared in your life sitting on the living room couch as if he had always known you. You wished that you had never obeyed John that night. Never allowed Simon’s arm to wrap around you as he intertwined your lives together to the point you could no longer undo the knots. It was too late for regret. You were bound to him, soul, mind, and soon to be body.

“Fuck.”

Simon’s groan was deep in his throat as he remained fully sheathed inside of you while his cock twitched unabashed against the screaming walls of your cunt. The aches only got worse as he kept himself pressed up against your bruised cervix, but you bore it as he gave you every last drop of his spend.

There was nothing left to keep your rump up in the air when Simon pulled out and away from you, and you collapsed on the bed as a mess of sticky flesh. His chuckle, once so soothing and melodic, sounded like nails on a chalkboard as he fixed his pants behind you. The bed rocked with his weight as he sat with his back turned to you, yet you paid no mind to it as you squeezed your eyes shut. You prayed that if you squeezed them tight enough, something would whisk you away and take you far, far away from that fucking motel room and away from Simon Riley.

But you never had such luck before.

That stale scent of cigarette smoke only grew stronger as Simon lit a fresh one. His chest expanded as he took a hefty drag, and you hoped that the ash would fall onto the carpet and burn the whole building to the ground. Half the cigarette burned by the time he turned around to face your motionless body on the bed. He cooed as he reached out for you, fingers gently raising your chin so that he could lean forward and press a kiss against your limp lips. A little bit of smoke still lingered in his mouth, and when you opened your eyes you tried to pretend that they watered because of the burn rather than the pain.

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?”

You didn’t remember if you fought against him when you got in the car. You didn’t remember anything. It was a complete mystery how you ended back up in Simon’s bed in that apartment, naked just how he liked you. All you knew was that everything hurt, and he had won. The next few weeks consisted of nothing but an incomplete recollection, like you looked at your memories through shattered glass. There was a vague memory of him bathing you in the shower, and another one of him feeding you by hand. It was all disconnected. Unreal.

Your body didn’t belong to you anymore. Maybe it never did. You had become an outsider, watching that useless hunk of flesh meander around an apartment you were too tired to escape from. There was nothing in the world that would save you from whatever curse that was wrought upon you; that Simon Riley.

The only thing you could somewhat remember were your dreams. One night, you dreamt you hid yourself away in the bathroom. It angered Simon, for some reason you couldn’t articulate. Mean hands pounded against the wood of the door as if he tried to break it down, all while he demanded you open it. You remembered voicing how you wanted to go home; how you just wanted to sleep. There was some deep dark feeling harbored inside of you that you couldn’t purge with your hands alone.

When the door finally came down, you suddenly were no longer in the bathroom. It was cold, but you were wrapped in more blankets than you could count while Simon wrapped bandages around your arms. They felt like cuffs. Like they were more chains to keep you tethered to him, yet you didn’t fight. You couldn’t fight. You knew not to anymore, because bad pets always got punished.

“Not leavin’ me yet, sweetheart. Not like this,” he mumbled.

Those bandages were still on your arms the next day, and you realized it had never been a dream at all. Just another bit of your life that was too fuzzy to fully experience. It was then that you finally realized that not even Death Himself could save you from Simon Riley. Nothing could.

It wasn’t until you were in the bathroom again that you were slammed back into your body. Each sensation that had felt so terribly numb before suddenly became painfully sharp. A terrible ache buzzed throughout your arms, stomach, and head the moment you returned to yourself. Something had stolen your conscience for a while just to kick it back in that silly brain of yours the moment it was bored, and your entire body grew cold with stark realization at what was in your hands. A pregnancy test, with two faint little lines that smiled up at you.

Adverting your gaze from that terrible object gave you no solace as you were met with the stomach-churning image of yourself in the mirror. Between the red veins that strained in your eyes and the peeling skin on your lips, you hardly recognized yourself. Still, Simon saw past all the broken parts of you as he stood behind you, hands snaking around to your front to grab your stomach. He was much too comforting for the pain that grew in your body.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered as he kissed the top of your head.

He breathed in your scent and you wondered if he could pick up on the notes of rot that laid underneath the smell of shampoo and product. He had killed you a long time ago, at least some part of you, and left it to fester and decay in a place you couldn’t heal. With shaky hands, you placed the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter as you let Simon pull you against his chest. His warmth threatened to engulf you, but you knew nothing would ever burn hot enough to ignite that smothered flame inside of you.

“I love you,” he whispered.

With a voice as empty as your eyes, you replied: “I love you, too.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #dead dove fic #dark fic #dead dove

530 notes · View notes

thatsdemko · 9 months

Text

junipers dad- g.russell

pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader

fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)

requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”

a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!

f1updates

liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.

f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat ☺️

400 comments

f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!

charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated

alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters

princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!

—

he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?

“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.

“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.

“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”

—

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.

georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off

509 comments

albon_pets: 🐱❤️

maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!

lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends

mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties

—

“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”

“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.

albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute

britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close

he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.

“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”

you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.

“if this will make you happy, then why not?”

—

f1gossiplover

liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.

f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!

300 comments

hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter

gaslycharles: too short to be George

gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him

—

“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.

you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.

“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.

“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”

you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”

—

y/nalbon

liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.

y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63

300 comments

albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!

georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!

roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?

mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?

williamsracing: not on our watch!

lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?

alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers

tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 3 months

Text

Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead.

The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. Besides, it would be too late to back out now. He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility, makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious, huh?" A dry chuckle following. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally finds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung, but the real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls on his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your spot as you lay out your tools on your table.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—pretending he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. But, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You plead, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after, if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks past you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide in your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

>> Still Untitled

#jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic

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bby-deerling · 4 months

Note

Ahhh! Your fic with Law eavesdropping was amazing. Can we get more virgin!law content? We know this man has no rizz like that.

ehehehe thank you nonny! i have so many thoughts about virgin!law, but here's just a few...

virgin law headcanons (nsfw)

18+, mdni, nsfw, masterlist || commissions (info)

tagging: @cloudzoro @mirillua @atanukileaf @willowbelle @eelnoise @kaizokuniichan

trafalgar law would rather curl up into a little ball and die than have you know that he's a virgin, and will try his best to conceal it, especially if you have prior experience. he wants to impress you so badly, and his ego cannot handle even the implication of him being incompetent, especially when it comes to you. if shachi and penguin tell you, please protect law's secretly sensitive heart and act like you don't know!

law has a very specific type of natural rizz that only works on certain types of people like me that involves a lot of sarcasm, snark, and teasing; he has no problem flirting with you and building tension, but when it's time to put his money where his mouth is, he freezes up because he realizes it's time to follow through with all the nonsense he's promised and alluded to through thick layers of innuendo.

picks up on how to kiss well fairly quickly, but he's a biter and a sucker, and will suck on your tongue if you let him. he'll cautiously try out things based on his intuition, but your responses always determine if he continues doing them or not.

he's eager to please, but is also paradoxically unwilling to directly ask you what you like, and feels like a fish out of water trying to observe everything going on with your body all at once. (as the heisenberg uncertainty principle states, he can only take one accurate measurement at once.) however, he is not above being a total weirdo and collecting intel on you in morally dubious ways if he needs to. (i.e. getting shachi and penguin to start a stupid drinking game designed to pull information out of you or giving ikkaku extra spending money to covertly find out your preferences and then report back to him.)

once he figures out what you like, either through sneaky means or from pressing your buttons and seeing which ones give him the best response, he's so cocky and smug about it, cooing "you like that?" into your ear—the feigned confidence in his voice serves two purposes, as both an ego boost and a defense mechanism to cover up the fact he has no idea what he's doing. it also makes you melt.

when he finally has you in bed, the gears are turning so hard in his head as he tries to do his best to please you, but once he enters you, and he realizes he'll have plenty of time and future chances to learn your body, he allows himself to let go and just fuck you. have fun

#one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #trafalgar law x y/n #law smut #trafalgar law smut #one piece smut #one piece headcanons #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario

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dollfacefantasy · 5 months

Text

Puppy Games

pairing: chris redfield x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader

summary: chris develops a soft spot for the hybrid he's taken in and wants to make her birthday extra special

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, predator/prey (they play chase)

word count: 5.9k

a/n: this is a birthday present for one of the sweetest, most caring people i've ever met, @nexysworld. i love nexy so so much, and you should all go wish her a happy birthday because she's great and she deserves it. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3

Chris startles awake upon hearing a creak outside his bedroom window. His life working for the government and fighting bioweapons left him a light sleeper. The slightest noises, like the one he imagined came from the gate to his yard, jolted him awake. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sits up. He tries to determine if what he heard was real or the remnant of a dream. But then he hears the clatter of something falling over outside, and he knows something, or someone, is out there.

After getting out of bed, he pulls on a shirt and grabs a flashlight and a gun. Slipping on his shoes, he peers out the window and confirms that the gate is open. He cautiously slides out the back door and casts the flashlight around the yard. The beam illuminates the small grassy area, but doesn’t give him an idea of what made that noise.

That is until the beam sweeps over a bit more, and he catches a pair of eyes staring back at him. He jumps from the sudden discovery and aims his weapon. You don’t make any moves at him though. If anything, you look more frightened than he does. You were shaking like a leaf, wide eyes full of fear. He slowly lowers the gun and takes in the sight of you. Floppy ears sprout from the top of your head and a fluffy tail is tucked between your legs. He figures out you’re one of those hybrids he’d heard about. He thought they had only been approved under government supervision for now, but here you were in his backyard.

“Hey there,” he calls as he begins approaching you with caution. He hears you whimper through the darkness, and his heart aches at the vulnerable noise. He closes the gap between the two of you and crouches down to where you had cowered against the fence. You shy away from him, trying to scoot away though you’re prevented by the barrier behind you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently, “What’s your name?”

You look at him for a moment as if you’re contemplating whether he was worth trusting or not. Eventually, you make your decision and respond with your name. Your voice is quiet, so soft he can barely hear it.

“I’m Chris… Are you lost?” he asks. He honestly had no clue why you would be here. It wasn’t like you were a loose housepet. A hybrid like yourself should’ve been stowed away in some facility with the other pups, doing… whatever they did with your kind. He never had the time to look into it much. It wasn’t his sector.

You shake your head as a response, but it doesn’t look like you even believe it. He scans the light over you, looking for any clues as to your origin. You look like you’ve been on your own for a while. You’re littered with cuts and bruises, and you don’t look like you’ve had a shower in a while. The clothes you wear are plain and functional. They look uniform, government-issued. Something glimmering dangling from the pocket of your sweats catches his eye. He pulls the chain and fishes out some metal tags that confirm his suspicions. They were government issued, displaying your ID number, birthday, and division code. He dangles them in front of you.

“What are these, hm?” he inquires.

Your hand shoots out and yanks them back. “Nothing,” you deflect, looking away.

His eyebrow raises. “I told you. There’s nothing to be scared of. But you’re in luck anyways. I work for the BSAA. I’ll have you home in the morning,” he says.

“That place isn’t home. I’m not going back,” you say with a bit of a growl. The first moment you don’t look like a skittish pup. His interest in you grows.

“Why not? You got somewhere else to be?” he asks.

Just as quick as the fight appeared in you, it vanishes. You shake your head and cast your eyes downward. “I don’t have anywhere, but I’m not going back,” you say, quiet determination in your tone.

“Alright… but what am I supposed to do with you? Can’t just keep you in my backyard,” he says, “I’m sure if you got lost it will be no trouble getting you back in.”

“No!” you say, almost sounding pleading. Frustration flashes across your face as you try to figure out what to do. You look up at him again and decide to take the leap of trusting him. You explain why you won’t return to the hell that is your division of the BSAA. You briefly recount the horrors, the inhumane treatment, the suffering.

Chris listens intently. He lets you speak and doesn’t interrupt once. While he wants to say that could never be true, he knows better. And because it is the truth, he knows he could never take you back to a place like that. No one should have to live like that, but especially not a cute little puppy like yourself.

“How about you come inside with me? You can shower, eat, do whatever you need to. Then we’ll figure something out in the morning,” he offers.

You nod. He stands up and sticks out his hand for you. Looking up at him, you take it and let him pull you to your feet. As you follow him inside, you get a better look at him. He’s tall, but even more noticeable, he’s built. He’s maybe the beefiest guy you’ve ever seen. You can only imagine how strong he is with those thick biceps. How easy it would be for him to hold you down. His legs looked powerful too, like he wouldn’t even stumble if you squirmed around in his arms…

Guiding you into the house, he takes you through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. Everything here was small but cozy. You liked the size of it, much different from the vast government rooms you were used to. They were big but always filled with bulk-ordered, industrial furniture. Everything there was overly sanitized. Here, it looked lived in.

“So shower’s in here. You’ll have to use my soap cause that’s all I’ve got. Towels are in here too,” he lists off after opening the bathroom to you. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly before continuing. “Can you do everything you need to yourself?”

“Yes, I can do it all myself,” you huff with a glare.

He raises his arms in surrender and backs out of the bathroom to let you have some privacy. You shut the door, and for the first time in a while, you have the luxury of being alone in a room that locks from the inside. You take your time in the shower, scrubbing away the months of roughing it. You didn’t even care that it was “his” soap. He smelled nice, and it felt so good getting clean. When you’re done, you get out and dry yourself off. It’s at this moment that you realize he didn’t give you any clothes.

You timidly peek out of the bathroom, ears bowing. “Chris?” you call.

He appears after a moment. “Yeah?” he answers.

When he sees you wrapped in a towel, he quickly averts his eyes. He grumbles to himself as he comes to the same realization you had moments earlier. He goes into his room and gets one of his shirts and a pair of his sweats for you. He’s quick to bring it back and hand it to you through the sliver of space left by the open door.

Before you retreat to the bathroom, he catches one more glimpse of your body. Your pretty legs and soft skin. Now that you’re clean, he can really see your cute face and delicate features. He shakes his head and gets himself focused again before he heads back to the kitchen.

On the other side of the door, you begin putting on the clothes he gave you. They’re huge on you to the point that it’s almost comical. You roll the sweats as much as you can, but they still struggle to stay up. What really gets you though, is his scent. It’s all over these. You press the cloth to your nose and take in the heady masculine smell. You’re nearly loopy with how it makes you feel, the urge to be claimed flaring up within you.

After you finish dressing, you join him in the kitchen. You hop up onto a seat at the counter while he fidgets with something in the corner. He brings over a plate with a sandwich to you.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, but I’m sure you're hungry,” he says simply.

You nod appreciatively and begin eating. While you’re occupied with that, he goes into the living room and sets you up a bed on the couch. He lays out a few thick blankets and puts some pillows down. It isn’t much, but he’s sure it’s better than wherever you’ve been sleeping on your own.

Once you’re done with your food, you go into the living room and watch him fluff up the cushions for you. He gestures for you to lay down once he finishes, and you do so. He feels a protective urge spark inside him. He doesn’t know how you’d feel about any kind of affection, but he just wanted to do something nice before you slept. He reaches down and brushes some hair out of your face before giving your ear a light and playful tug.

“See you in the morning, pup,” he says instead before exiting to his bedroom.

You squirm a little from the gesture, but a shy smile graces your lips. Your first hint that maybe he wasn’t such a stiff. After he left, you pull your pillows into place and cover yourself with the blankets he provided to try and sleep.

A couple of hours go by though, and you’re still awake. The makeshift bed he created for you was much better than anything you’d slept on in a while, but you still couldn’t get yourself to drift off. You shift around for a bit, trying to get comfy. Nothing works. You whine and kick the blankets off yourself. Huffing with irritation, you try to figure out what it is. Part of you already knows, but the other half soon catches up.

His scent. It was all over you now that you’d bathed in his soap and were wearing his clothes. It followed you everywhere you went. It told you everything you needed to know about him on an instinctual level. With every breath, your body ached for him. Deep down inside, you wanted him there with you, holding you, whispering that everything was ok, that you were a good girl.

You look over, down the hall at his door. It was mostly shut, but a little crack was left open. It was basically calling for you to come in.

So you get up and pad across the hall. You’re sure to be quiet, set on not disturbing his rest. You slip through the door and make your way to the foot of the bed. You stand there for a moment. He was asleep, facing the edge of the bed, shirt off again. Your tail swishes slowly as you contemplate the idea.

‘Should I?’ you think to yourself. It was a risk, but you wanted to be near him so bad. You were tired of being alone.

So you decide to go for it. You kick off his annoying sweats. They kept pooling around your feet and tripping you, so they were left on the floor. You crawl onto the mattress and up the bed. He stirs, but you keep going. You’re quick to slide next to him, slotting yourself against his back. You wrap your arms around him and nuzzle against his warm skin.

That easily wakes him. His eyes flutter open, and he mumbles in confusion as he tries to turn around. It takes him a moment when you’re clinging to him like that, but he manages and looks down at you. He blinks a few times, watching with bewilderment as you tuck yourself against his chest and nestle your face against his muscles.

“What are you doing?” he rasps.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Not wanting to get kicked out, you look at him with the best timid puppy dog eyes you can manage. “It’s cold out there,” you say sadly.

“I gave you blankets,” he says.

You sigh a little. Clearly, he was dense in more ways than physical.

“I got lonely too… It’s hard for me to sleep alone,” you say, starting to pout a little.

He continues looking at you. He wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew how much you had been through so far. What kind of guy would he be to deny you some comfort in your time of need?

“Alright, c’mere,” he sighs and pulls you into his chest all the way, wrapping those big arms around you. One hand rubs your back while the other strokes your hair. “Get some sleep, pup. You need to rest.”

You nod obediently and settle in. With his warmth and scent engulfing you, you’re out like a light. It’s not even ten minutes later before he senses the soft, even rhythm of your breath, letting him know you’re asleep. He shuts his eyes too, dozing off for the night.

In the morning, when Chris wakes, he feels you before he sees you. He feels your warm body pressed to his, your quiet breaths fanning over his skin. He cracks his eyes open and finds you looking as precious as he imagined, tail twitching in your sleep. It was at that moment that he knew for certain that there was no way he was letting anyone else at the BSAA get their hands on you. He wouldn’t be able to rest ever again knowing you were locked away, hurting and sad.

He waited a little while after you woke up to pitch the idea, not wanting to startle you with such a big life change the second you opened your eyes. But once he did lay out the possibility of staying with him, you were all in. Chris’s house was a thousand times better than a park bench or alleyway, and you thought he was pretty nice.

Of course, after a few months of staying together, you both thought much more of the other than “pretty nice.” You loved him, and he completely adored you. You were the piece from his life he didn’t even know was missing. You gave him love he never felt anywhere else and let him express love in return. You were the sweetest little thing he’d ever come across, so affectionate and loving, but you were funny too, always making him laugh with whatever you got up to.

As he spent more time with you, he loved finding out things you liked and little quirks about your personality. He found you loved sitting in his lap, loved curling up with a nest of blankets. He found he loved buying you things in your favorite color just to see your eyes light up. Never did he think his room would be crowded with stuffies and other things of that nature.

It only took no time at all for him to understand how playful you were. He could never be bored with you around. You always wanted to mess with him. You’d taken to calling him “daddy” pretty quickly. The first time he’d heard you say it, all his thoughts came to a screeching halt.

“What’d you say?” he asked.

You repeated yourself confidently with no indication that you’d done anything out of the ordinary. He tried to explain to you why that maybe wasn’t the best idea, but you put on the same puppy dog eyes that convinced him to let you stay in bed on your first night. So from then on, he had a cute puppy girl running around his house calling him daddy.

Even though he wasn’t crazy about it at first, he justified that if it would make you happy, it was worth it. Soon enough though, that word falling from your lips was his favorite sound in the world. He told himself it was because it showed how comfortable you were with him. It definitely wasn’t because he felt his blood rushing south whenever you curled up to him and looked at him with those big sweet eyes saying you loved your daddy.

You also always wanted to play. Whether it was chase or wrestling, the two of you weren’t going to relax until you were thoroughly tired out. Chris loved seeing you have fun, but these games made it harder to suppress the effect you had on him. When he’d chase after you, he'd force himself to just pick you up in the end and not pin you down and stuff you full of him till you were truly exhausted. Or when you’d wrestle, you’d wiggle your hips, whimper and whine, all while he had you underneath him. Every time he’d have to end it by going to the bathroom and jerking off real quick before returning to you.

It all came to a head though when you developed the habit of sitting between his legs while the two of you watched tv. You loved being surrounded by his strong arms, but there was something about being below him, encased by his massive thighs. You’d get comfortable with your blanket and just relax between his legs, resting your head against his knee. And that was fine, but then you wanted to look up at him. You’d turn around on your knees, gazing up at him like the lovesick puppy you were. And then one day you started to nuzzle your face against his lap.

“Hey, hey, baby, what are you doing?” he said quickly, trying to lift you off him before it was too late.

“Just showing you I love you,” you responded, continuing to drag your nose along his pants and even pressing little kisses to the area.

He squirmed a bit. Obviously, had he really wanted to, he could have pushed you off him in a second. But he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Not to mention he liked how it felt. Once he’d given up his resistance, it wasn’t long before there was a large, hard bulge in his jeans. You were still his precious pup, but you were also a pretty girl rubbing her face all over his cock. He was only human.

You weren’t stupid. This is what you had wanted all along. It’s why you called him daddy, put yourself in every compromising position you could think of. You thought you made it completely obvious that you wanted him to take you and fuck you dumb whenever he felt like it. But all that went over his head, so this is what it came to. But fortunately, it seemed to work.

You freed him from the constraints of his pants and watched his cock spring to life. Timidly wrapping your fingers around it, you brought it to your lips. You licked it a few times and kissed the tip before sliding it into your mouth. Chris’s eyes fell shut as he groaned.

“Fuck, baby. Such a good puppy,” he grunted, tipping his head back.

You sucked with dedication, savoring the heavy weight of him on your tongue, the smell of his musk filling your nose. Your saliva dribbled down his cock as you bobbed your head. He petted your hair mumbling that you were such a good girl for him, such a pretty puppy.

You kept going, using your hand on the part your mouth struggled to cover. He pulsed in your mouth, his muscles tightening as he spilled his hot cum down your throat. You wanted to keep going, and that’s when he really had to use his strength to pull you off and lift you into his lap.

From then on, that became part of your shared routine. He found it was a way to keep you occupied that didn’t take much work on his part. He’d come home, and you’d scramble to the door to greet him. You’d talk a little about each other’s days. Then he’d sit on the couch, already undoing his belt, and ask “Does my pup think she deserves a treat?”

You’d vigorously nod, tail wagging as you positioned yourself at his feet while he pulled his cock out. You’d take it in your mouth as soon as he let you and just shut your brain off. Chris would watch your eyes go glossy as you drooled all over his shaft and lapped at his balls. He realized that this was a way to feel close to him more than anything else.

The first heat you had while living with him brought you even closer together than the countless blowjobs. He basically stayed buried balls deep in you for an entire weekend. He pumped you full with load after load, only taking small breaks when he absolutely had to.

Even when you weren’t in heat, he felt like he could barely keep up with you sometimes. Your favorite way to play became to bounce on his lap till you couldn’t think straight or have him pound you into the mattress until it felt like the bed would break. He couldn’t complain though. How lucky was he to have such a loving pup?

Everyday with you in his life was brighter than the last. Today though, today was a very special day. Today was your birthday. He comes home from work, small bag in hand. As usual, the second you hear the front door shut, you rush to come see him. You fling yourself into his chest, nearly toppling him over despite your smaller stature.

“Woah, hey there, sweetheart. Miss me today?” he says. He ruffles your hair before wrapping his arm around you and walking to the kitchen. You were still clinging onto him as the two of you walked. Your tail brushes his back as it swishes with your excitement.

“Miss you everyday,” you murmur.

“Get in any trouble today, baby?” he teases.

“No, but the day’s not over yet,” you beam up at him.

He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “Well, I think I need you to hold off on that for a little longer cause I have something for you,” he says, lifting the bag and showing it off for you.

“A treat?” you ask excitedly.

“Mhm, a special treat for my birthday girl,” he says. He places the bag on the counter and smiles at you eyeing it with curiosity.

“What is it?” you ask, ears perking up.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” he says.

So you do. You tentatively reach forward and take the plain white tissue paper between your fingers. Pulling out the sheets, you drop them to the floor and tilt the bag into your line of sight. Pale purple fluff sticks out of the top. You pull the object out and find a pretty stuffed bear, another you could add to the growing collection on your side of the bed. You look up at him, beaming. He laughs softly and shrugs.

“Glad you like it, pup. I got one more thing in there for you though,” he says.

He takes out a small square box and opens it. After he puts it on the countertop, you see it’s a cupcake decorated with pretty purple frosting. While you admire the color of the dessert, Chris reaches over you and sticks a candle in the top. He lights it up and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“I’m not gonna sing for ya, but I want you to make a wish,” he says softly.

You didn’t even know what to say. No one had ever even celebrated your birthday before let alone been so nice about it. You take a moment to contemplate what you’d even wish for. He steps closer and hugs you from behind, rubbing your arm.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. I won’t even ask what you wished,” he whispers and plants another kiss on your head.

You finally decide and blow out the candles. You then turn to him and hug him like you did when he first walked through the door. His hand runs over your head. He cracks another smile hearing you mumble a thank you.

“You’re welcome, baby. Just wanted you to have a nice birthday. You wanna eat your cake now?” he says.

You look up at him and shake your head. He would have been confused, but he recognizes the look in your eyes. You’re up to something. There’s a plan forming in that pretty head of yours.

“Oh? Why not?” he asks.

“Well, remember last night. You said we could do whatever I wanted tonight, and I said I had to think about it. But now I know,” you say as you take a step back from his large frame.

“And what is it that you want to do?” he asks, following with a pace in your direction.

You walk over to the door leading to the backyard, and your goal starts to become clear to him. “You were bad today, Daddy. You left the back door unlocked. Woulda been so easy for me to get out and run away,” you say with that mischievous lilt in your voice.

“Oh, but why would my puppy want to do something like that on her birthday? Thought you were my good girl. Good girls don’t behave like that,” he says, joining your game without hesitation.

“I am a good girl. But I get so bored,” you whine, “Need to run around.”

You open the door and step out onto the porch. He follows along, a knowing smirk rising to his face.Your tail goes back and forth behind you

“If you want to do that, you ask Daddy. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you Daddy knows best. You can’t be trusted out here on your own. You’ll get hurt and then come running home, crying. And you know it breaks my heart to see my baby upset,” he says.

“I wouldn’t do that. I’d be fine. Don’t need Daddy to take care of me,” you challenge. Despite your bratty facade, you could barely suppress your grin.

“Wow,” Chris says and places his hand on his chest, feigning hurt, “Who knew my puppy was so tough, hm? Is the same girl that whines me for more kisses? Clings to my legs every chance she gets? The same girl who begs me to breed her every single night? Maybe I’ve spoiled you too much. Made you an ungrateful little brat.”

Your face heats up and your ears fall. You struggle to think of a good response.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, “So c’mon pretty puppy, get back in the house, and we’ll eat that cake in there. Bought it just for you.”

You shake your head. “It’s my birthday. I get to do whatever I want. You said so yourself, can’t take it back now,” you say before bolting out the gate and through the grass to the vast sea of trees behind the house.

He shakes his head and starts running after you. “Sounds like the only thing you want right now is for me to teach you some manners and pound that little cunt into the dirt,” he calls after you.

Your laughter carries through the open forest air. You prance over tree roots and under branches, occasionally looking over your shoulder to gauge how far behind Chris was. He bounds across the dirt along your trail. He tears through the foliage, biceps flexing against his shirt as he pushes the plant life out of the way.

Excitement courses through your limbs. You're breathing hard, your heart slamming against your ribcage while gliding through the woods. He’s gaining on you quickly though. Yeah, you were fast, but he was fast and had longer legs. If he wanted to, you’d be caught already. But a big part of the fun for you was the chase.

After a bit more running though, he decides it’s time to call it. He runs with extra speed for a few strides and lunges towards you. You squeal as he tackles you to the ground. He made sure you were engulfed by him though, shielded from any potential harm.

You both roll through the dirt, but at the end of your tussle, he’s on top, pinning you against the earth with a thud. He smiles down at you.

“Oh no, looks like my puppy’s birthday plans have been ruined,” he breathes while looking down at you in your compromising position.

“Mhm, it’s your fault meanie,” you whimper, attempting to jab your knees into his sides.

He dodges the weak attacks and laughs. “Too bad. I’m a meanie, and you’re my little brat. That’s just how it is,” he says as he begins pulling your clothes off you and piling them up nearby.

“Daddy!” you whine and swat at him, “Someone could see!”

He chuckles at that. He tears your panties off you and flips you over onto your stomach with ease. Leaning forward, he speaks into your ear.

“Yeah, and what are they gonna see? Just a responsible owner training his naughty little puppy. Don’t think anyone would object to that.”

He yanks you around some more, getting you into position. Your cheek is pressed to the dirt while your ass is in the air. He holds your hip and grinds his clothes bulge against your soaked pussy. You whimper from the sensation, rocking your hips onto the material as much as you can in his grip. You leave behind some slick on the fabric once you’ve pulled away.

“Look at you. Such a messy baby. We’re gonna have to train that out of you too,” he says.

Before you know it, his pants are down just enough for his cock to spring out. He lines up with your entrance and starts pushing in. Your walls embrace him like always, as if welcoming home. He groans from the warmth that squeezes around him while you gasp from the stretch.

He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he starts pumping himself in and out of you. You whimper and dig your fingers into the ground, seeking some form of leverage for yourself. His hips bump into you over and over, dragging your soft cheek against the dirt.

“I’m not hearing any of that attitude now? What happened, pup, ten seconds on daddy’s dick, and you’re fucked stupid?” he mocks.

“No!” you mewl. Your hips are rocking back into his, meeting every single thrust.

“Whatever you say, birthday girl,” he grunts

He’s not gentle right now. His hips connect with your ass at a rapid pace, the clapping echo sounding through the trees. His fingers are digging into your flesh, his teeth poke his own lip as his own pleasure floods his body.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve had to teach you this same. fucking. lesson. You need your daddy,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a thrust, “You’re so stubborn, pup. Gonna have to do this even more than usual to get you to loosen up.”

You babble protests against the dirt and weakly shake your head.

“What’s that?” he asks with a particularly harsh thrust, “Talking back still? Guess I haven’t done good enough yet.”

He keeps up his thrusts, maintaining a consistent speed, but increasing the power. You jolt with each stroke. Your hands curl into complete fists. You cry out, your legs twitching in the dirt. Soon enough, you’ve given up on playing defiant and willingly fall into submission for him.

“Mmm, daddy… feels… feels good. Best daddy in the whole world,” you slur.

“Yeah, now that you’re getting some cock, I’m the best daddy ever. Funny how that works,” he teases as he continues to drill into you.

He watches you squirming on the ground beneath him. He leans down closer to you, pressing his muscular front to your back, letting you feel his size, how easy it is for him to keep you in place and use you for his pleasure.

“You know, sweet baby, I think I’ve got a solution for this problem you keep having, but don’t worry it’s one you’ll like,” he says.

“Wh- mmph- what is it?” you ask around whimpers.

“I’m just gonna have to do what you’re always asking. Gonna have to breed my pretty little puppy,” he answers.

“Gonna- gonna breed me?” you repeat.

“Yeah, baby, gonna breed you. Stuff you full of cum. And if it doesn’t take out here, don’t worry, I’ll make sure it does at some point tonight. Gonna have you carrying my babies by the end of the week,” he grunts with a smack to your ass.

You moan and nod excitedly. “Yeah, yeah, want it,” you slur.

“Oh, I know you do, and think about it, it will work out for both of us. You’ll be the prettiest mama for our pups, make me so proud every single day. And you’ll be too swollen to run off and get yourself hurt. Isn’t that great?”

A blissful smile spreads on your face. “Mhm, great. Smart daddy,” you say, your voice a clear display of how fucked out you are.

“Good girl. Daddy has to be smart to take care of his dumb little puppy, always causing trouble,” he says.

He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine. You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.

You collapse onto your side, crumpling up on the dirt just like your clothes. He smiles at that, finding it so precious. He rubs your back gently and leans down to kiss your temple.

“Such a good puppy baby. My good girl,” he coos and scratches behind your ears.

He cleans himself off a little. It doesn’t take much work before he’s looking like he was before. You, on the other hand, are a whole other story. For you, he brushes the dirt off you as best he can, knowing you’re gonna need a bath after you take a nap. He then pulls your clothes back on, over your limbs which are mostly limp at the moment. Kissing your forehead, he scoops you up and starts carrying you back to the house. You’re all sleepy and clingy, tightening your arms around him and mumbling about how much you love him.

“I know, pup,” he reassures you, rubbing your back as he keeps heading towards the house.

Once he’s there, he takes you inside and flops down in his old recliner. He kicks it back and cradles you to his chest. You get comfy pretty quick, snuggling up to him and nuzzling his chest.

“That’s it, baby. Daddy’s got you. Get some rest, and then we’ll have some cake when you’re up,” he whispers.

You give one more drowsy nod before passing out on top of him. He holds you even closer, watching his precious puppy rest.

“Sweet dreams, birthday girl.”

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x you #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield smut #chris redfield imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut

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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months

Text

i love you enough

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'roadtrip/vacation' rated m wc: 995 cw: nightmare, implied sexual content tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, first kiss, loosest way to reference vacation is staying in a hotel

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"Steve...Steve!"

His eyes opened wide as Eddie's hands shook him awake.

"Jesus Christ, man. I thought I'd have to push you off the bed," Eddie sighed, his hold on Steve's shoulders loosening but not going away.

"Sorry," Steve gasped, his breath caught in his chest like he was about to have a panic attack.

This nightmare had been different.

Instead of Robin dying under the mall, it was Eddie. Instead of Steve being able to convince the Russians that he should be taken, Eddie convinced them he knew all they needed to know.

It was the exact type of falling on the sword Eddie would do.

Steve's eyes landed on Eddie, who was watching him silently, looking like he was doing his best not to cry.

"Eds? You okay?" Steve's voice cracked.

"Shit, are you?" Eddie asked back, letting out a disbelieving laugh.

"Yeah, sorry I woke you up."

"You're kidding, right?"

Eddie looked mad. He sounded mad.

"No, I'm really sorry. I know you don't sleep so great, either, so," Steve shrugged. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanna go down the hall to the girls' room."

Eddie blinked at him, silence making the air feel thick with an awkwardness they hadn't had between them in months.

And then Eddie's hands were cupping his face, almost lovingly.

"Do you ever think about how other people care about you?" Eddie asked, barely more than a whisper. "Or how seeing you suffer and then apologize for it breaks our hearts?"

Steve's mouth was opening and closing like a fish, searching Eddie's eyes for the answer he wanted.

"You have no idea how much people love you, do you?" Eddie's forehead rested against Steve's.

"I-"

"Stevie. I need you to listen to me." Eddie breathed out slowly. "I can't imagine how much you've seen. I know you've told me, and I've seen some of it myself, but half of the shit you've done? Just to keep everyone safe? And you keep seeing it in nightmares all the time. It never goes away. You're so strong. You get up every day and go to work, and cart the kids around, and bring me to appointments, and cook dinner for me and Wayne, and help Robin with her girl problems, and then you go to bed and have to worry about what monsters will be waiting for you. And then you wake up the next day and pretend it didn't happen, but we all know it did. I know it did."

Steve sniffled.

"And here I am, shaking in the corner of my bed because I think I hear a noise outside my window one time." They both let out a laugh, but Eddie continued before Steve could interrupt. "I was scared. I tried waking you up when you first started making noises. You sounded like you were hurt. And then you said Dustin's name and I could feel you shaking. And then-"

"And then I said your name."

Eddie nodded.

Steve placed his hands at Eddie's neck, almost mirroring Eddie.

"You died. But it was the Russians. You convinced them you knew something to distract them from me and the kids, but you didn't so they just kept...they-" He let out a sob as tears fell down his cheeks. "They did to you what they were gonna do to me."

"Oh, sweetheart."

Eddie's lips were on his.

It shouldn't be happening like this, a part of Steve thought.

It should be romantic and sweet, maybe after a date where Steve used all the charm he's been saving just for Eddie, maybe when the reason for the wetness against their cheeks was because of rain instead of tears.

But in a way, it was always going to be like this: admitting too much at the wrong time, saving each other from pain.

Regardless of all the ways it should be and all the ways he wished for it to be, it was perfect.

When Eddie pulled away, he let out a small laugh.

"Robin said this would happen as soon as I said I was staying in your room."

"She said I would have a nightmare that left us both crying and kissing in a bed that is definitely big enough for us to not be cuddling, but we definitely were?" Steve asked with a smirk. "She's good, but I don't think she's that good."

"Oh, shut up," Eddie lightly smacked his shoulder. "You know what I meant."

He did. She'd said the same to him.

"Well, maybe if you hold my hand, I'll be able to fall back asleep?" Steve suggested.

"Yeah, I could do that. Or..."

"Or?"

"Or I could..."

"You could?"

Eddie nipped his bottom lip.

"I could kiss you in...other places..."

"Eds, just say what you wanna do," Steve giggled.

"Fine! I could suck you off so you can sleep!" Eddie laughed.

"You could do that, yeah," Steve nodded, pretending that wasn't enough to rile him up.

"I could. If you want."

"Is it just to help me fall asleep?" Steve asked, suddenly nervous that this wasn't anything more than helping out a friend.

"If I wasn't completely clear before: I love you. I love you enough to sacrifice myself in your nightmares, I love you enough to do stupid physical therapy sessions that I hate because you get sad when I don't go, I love you enough to make Robin take a room with Nancy and Jonathan so I could stay right here with you, and I love you enough to suck your dick to help you sleep."

Steve snorted.

"Be my guest, then," he gestured down at his lap, watching Eddie literally lick his lips.

Just when Eddie was breathing against his stomach, ready to move further down, Steve stopped him.

"Wait!" Eddie looked up at him, eyes wide. "I love you, too. Need you to know that."

Fondness poured from Eddie as he pressed a kiss to Steve's stomach.

"I know, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddieholidaydrabbles #vacation

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pfhwrittes · 1 month

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child free!reader thoughts that have been bubbling away in the brain soup document below the cut.

kyle garrick x gn!reader but with appearances from john price, john mactavish, simon riley and the beloathed brandon (who i've shamelessly stolen from @dragonnarrative-writes)

tags/warnings: pregnancy mention right at the end of the fic (not the reader character), fluff, vague allusions to eating at restaurants (non descriptive).

(banner by @/cafekitsune)

child free!reader who has "child free, that means i don't want kids - not even yours!" as the first line on their dating profile.

child free!reader who goes on a date with john price. he's charming, polite and funny. john tells you early doors that he misread your profile but he didn't want to be rude and cancel the date on short notice so he hopes you don't mind sharing a meal with him. you don't mind as he's good company and takes care of the bill like a gentleman and apologises for wasting your time. you part ways amicably and both wish each other well with the dating scene.

child free!reader whose next date is with john mactavish. he says he doesn't mind if you call him johnny. he's good company and makes you laugh so hard that other people in the restaurant look over at your table. you're having a great time but he brings up his flatmate simon an awful lot. you end up gently suggesting that maybe johnny would prefer to take simon out for dinner instead. johnny gapes at you like a fish for a minute before realising, that yeah, he really would. you exchange numbers at the end of the date and ask him to keep you in the loop with how things go with the mysterious simon.

child free!reader who goes on a date with brandon. it's a crap date. he's late, doesn't apologise, presumes you want to head back to his place and gets annoyed when you pull the brakes on the whole thing. brandon then tells you that he doesn't care any way as he has to pick up his kid from their mum's house in the morning. you leave him to foot the bill and call johnny on your way home to complain about how crap the date was and how you should never have agreed to go on a date that your friend vouched for.

child free!reader who goes out to brunch with johnny and simon the following weekend. you spend a good portion of the brunch watching johnny lean up against simon with a little smile on your face and waggle your eyebrows knowingly when simon steps outside to smoke a cigarette. when simon rejoins you both, you tell them how you're considering deleting your dating profile and embracing singledom forever. simon makes you promise to keep your profile for at least another three days which is weirdly specific but you agree.

child free!reader who gets a message on the dating profile from kyle garrick two days later. you're pretty blunt about not wanting kids and how you won't change your mind and neither are you looking for some short term fling. despite that, kyle is friendly, funny and a little bit flirty over messages so you agree to go out on a date with him. he's even prettier in person than in his photos. kyle is flirty without being pushy, asks you questions about your hobbies without prompting, and he admits that it was simon that gave him a gentle push to message you when you explain that a friend stopped you from deleting your profile before agreeing to go on a date with him.

child free!reader who agrees to go on a second date with kyle after he tells you that he got a vasectomy at 21 because he knew even then that he never wanted to be a dad.

child free!reader that messages the group chat you have with simon and johnny absolutely gushing about kyle's eyes, arms and smile. johnny replies with endless eggplant emojis and simon sends a singular thumbs up.

child free!reader that after four fantastic dates (and one mind blowing night together) decides to delete their dating profile after kyle sleepily mumbles into your neck about wanting to be exclusive.

(and a little bonus scene that i just can't scrap)

child free!reader who goes as kyle's plus one to john price's wedding a year later and you both laugh yourselves silly when you tell your boyfriend that you went out on a very nice date with the groom once upon a time. you toast the bride with matching flutes of a non-alcoholic mocktail as she rests her hand on her very pregnant stomach at the sweetheart table she shares with her new husband.

#pfh headcannons #tw pregnancy mention #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #x reader fic #gn!reader #kg #jm #jp #sr #i just think child free readers should get a little bit of love on this blog

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suckerforlovesblog · 11 months

Text

Pretty little thing

Pretty little thing Masterlist

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to grant him access to the finer society of Birmingham. All he wanted the girl to be was a pretty little thing on his arm who simply submitted, obeyed and followed his orders.

And he did find the perfect girl - young, very good looking, of a good upbringing, smart but little did he expect her to have such a strong mind of her own…

All he wanted to do was break her in, like a horse had to be, and his new wife put up a good fight but eventually he is sure, he will break her and make her his completely.

Series warning: Dark!Tommy, toxic relationship, abuse, rape, non consensual intercourse, rough sex, age gap, Sir kink, choking - all the things that come with rough smut

Chapter 1: The perfect girl

Summary: Thomas Shelby is out searching for a wife. Most young women in Birmingham throw themselves at him but he doesn’t like that and goes out further to search for the perfect girl to be on his arm whilst hanging on his lips.

Chapter Warning: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 1.5k

~ tag list: @ncoleys , @amberpanda99 , @priyajoyy @tommyshelbywhore @swordofawriter @goth-cowgirl-03 @thenattitude @sheun-555 @meetmeatyourworst @bruher @frazie99 @blvebanisters @jessimay89 ~

I‘m very intrigued to hear your thoughts!

Also: please let me know what you would like to read! My requests are OPEN!

End of 1925:

Thomas Shelby was still grieving the death of his beloved wife Grace, even after an entire year, and everyone around him knew. He did blame himself for her death because he gave her the bewitched jewel to wear and even put it onto her himself. And she wore it that night, like a target painted on her forehead. But business had to keep going and Charlie desperately needed a mother figure in his life. Frances, the maid, was doing her best and Ada and Polly came to help out from time the time but it just wasn’t the same. He had even hired a governess, a very pretty thing, blonde and petite and at least fifteen years younger then him, to attend to his son’s needs because he couldn’t always be there for him. Thomas who was now nearing forty, also really enjoyed the governess presence, at least when he bend her over a table, fucked her from behind and she didn’t talk. Other than that he avoided her most of the time and let her do her work.

She fulfilled his needs but it didn’t help him with business.

So, Thomas Shelby called a family meeting at Arrow House and now everyone was sitting in front of him in the drawing room: Arthur and Linda, John and Esme, Polly and Michael, Ada, Finn, Charlie, Curly, Jeremia and his son, and Lizzie, of course. Sometimes he still slept with her but she would never be good enough to be his wife. He did like her but Lizzie’s social standing was beneath his new position as a business man.

“Thank you everyone for coming, eh!”, Tommy’s voice boomed: “I have an important announcement to make and I think I need everyone’s help.” All the people in the small room looked at him. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then said: “I decided that it’s time for me to remarry. It will be good for business.” Lizzie looked at him with wide sad eyes, knowing he would never share the feelings she had for him. Arthur stood up, smiling and went up to give Thomas a small hug, “Proud of you, Tom. Linda will help for sure.” Everyone else looked reassuring and Curly started babbling something no one was able to make out. “May I ask what kind of business you think of concluding?”, Polly said. “Yes but I will not tell just yet ‘eh.”, Tommy says, wetting his lip, “I just think a wife will open up new branches for us and make the company more respectable.” He then puts a cigarette between his lips, after fishing it out of the gold case from the pocket of his coat: “Anyways today is a day to celebrate and I invite you all to dinner. Now, Michael, John and Arthur stay, everyone else I see at dinner.” Thomas lights his cigarette whilst everyone leaves the room except for his brothers and Michael. He sits back down and explains the guys what he’s looking for in his future wife, mostly talking to Michael because the girl should be around his age, a very desirable age in his opinion. The four men make a plan to start the search for his wife tomorrow, starting with all the respectable families in Birmingham and then toast to their success with Irish whiskey, of course.

Early spring of 1926:

Thomas and Michael looked at all the young women in Birmingham, from a respectable upbringing at least. John joked that the two of them fucked their way through Birmingham and that was true to some extent. None of the girls satisfied Thomas’ needs however and Michael was growing tired. “If you keep going like that Tom, we will never find a girl for you. One is not tall enough, the next one doesn’t have enough tits, another one is too stupid, then she is pretty but not gorgeous. This is exhausting.”, Michael says looking at him from the drivers seat of the new Bentley Thomas got. The car was extremely luxurious and expensive.

“Well Michael, we gotta find the perfect girl for me, eh.”, he answered, taking a puff of his cigarette, “She needs to be smart and eloquent for me to be able to bring her around business partners. But she ought to be gorgeous as well because then negotiations will be even easier because men are dumbstruck if they’re accompanied by beautiful women.” Michael also lights a cigarette: “I get that Tom but if we keep going at that speed my dick won’t work anymore with the girl I may marry in the future because I emptied everything I have into some girls” They both laughed and kept driving to meet Alfie Solomons in Camden Town for business.

After driving past the first couple of buildings, he barks at Michael to stop the car and Thomas basically jumps out. He brushes his coat down, fishes a cigarette out of its case and puts it into it mouth leaving Michael more than puzzled. Thomas started walking towards a building, lighting the cigarette with a match and then enters a shop, a tailoring shop it appears. Michael still sits in the car, smoking a cigarette as well and waiting for him to come back.

Thomas looks around the shop, searching for the woman he just saw. He only saw her side profile but Tommy knew she was the one, now on his way to make her his, willing to do whatever it might take and hoping she wasn’t already married. Fuck, even if she was, he were to make her his for sure.

He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn’t even hear the little bell ring as he entered through the door and then the people inside the shop turning to him. The pretty woman he searched for was sitting behind a desk to his right and he made his way towards her but was stopped abruptly in his step by the owner of the shop. “Sir”, the small man called out, “how may I help you?” “Aye, I need a new suit please and may I have a word with the young lady at the desk?”, Thomas answers. “For sure”, the man says in a low purr, scarred of the dominance in his voice, “we will leave you to it, Sir.” Tommy nods and the man leaves the shop through the back door, pulling a women behind him.

Thomas approaches the woman. She was already looking at him through her Y/E/C eyes, smiling lightly. “Hello miss, my name is Thomas Shelby, owner of the Shelby Company Limited. I saw you out in the street and you caught my eye”, he said and smiled an earnest smile. “My name is Y/N, my farther is the owner of the shop.”, the girl answered. He looked at her thoroughly and she got even more prettier the longer he looked at her. Although Thomas didn’t feel any affection towards her but she was very pretty for sure and he knew that she would be the perfect wife: young, a pretty face and fine features, nice hair, a slim figure. Her voice was very calm and had a pretty sound to it. He knew she would be the perfect little thing on his arm. He looks at her with his icy blue eyes, “Tell me sweetheart, how old are you?” “I just turned 18, Sir”, she said. The obedience and innocence in her voice made him hard, without help anyways, for the first time since Grace died. His heart ached for his lost love but he needed this to work and pushed the face of his dead wife out of his thoughts. “You’re not married, eh?”, he asked the girl more nearly twenty years younger then him. She shook his head, seemingly submitting him to, scarred of his booming figure. He really liked that and smiled: “Please get your farther to me, I need to speak with him. In private. And take the measurements for the suit I ordered, will you sweetheart?” She got up, nodding and getting her farther at first, afterwards measuring him and writing all the details down for his order. She was sent out shortly after, leaving her farther with the unknown man with the pretty blue eyes.

“Tell me Sir, is everything to your liking so far”, the old man asked Thomas. “Yes, indeed”, he answered with his thick Birmingham accent, “I would like to marry your daughter. I know this sounds rushed but she immediately caught my eye and I can provide for her very well.” The older man, the girls farther, looked at him reserved and averse. Thomas looked at him with his blue piercing eyes, radiating pride and dominance and the older man submitted. “Listen, eh, I give you a great deal for her and promise to provide and care for the girl.”, Thomas says, putting another cigarette between his lips, letting it dangle for a little while before lightning it with a match.

He pursued the conversation for a little while longer, settling everything important, like the wedding date and the money the family will receive. After it was all settled Thomas went outside of the shop, calling Michael to set up and then seal the document.

The girl came back into the shop, Thomas walked over to her and put his hand on her waist. She looked up at him confused but he just smiled at Michael: “Meet my darling fiancé, Y/N. We will be married in two weeks time and she will be Mrs. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #Thomas Shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby rough smut #tommy shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby #dark!tommy

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