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anantaru · 2 days

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HSR + HE TEACHES YOU

— ꒰ including ꒱ — aventurine, boothill, dr ratio, sunday x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — inexperienced! reader, slightly possessive ?? hsr men, dirty talk, pet names used: baby, good girl, oral (male! receiving), cowgirl, dom ?? but veritas is mean, slightly possessive sunday (he's a little weird, am i right guys?)

— ꒰ AVENTURINE ꒱

aventurine doesn't know what to do with himself other than receive your warm, innocent tongue with open arms, his fleeting gaze radiant like jewels and focused on your mouth splitting so effortlessly when he finally inserts himself between your plush lips.

"please— look at how excited you are," his words made you shudder, although desires and excitement also furnished your mind. it was all there— his handsome voice, his musky scent, the salty taste on your tongue and for you, the new flavor felt weird, yes, slightly bitter when you swallow down.

but aventurine's cock repeatedly rolling over your tongue over and over began to taste like in the most delicious, toe curling way imaginable.

he was thickly warm on your tongue, and heavy, making your jaw slack with ease, "put it in your mouth like that, yes, ahh yes, just like that baby," as you begin to move your head up and down with the help of him, heating him from the inside out.

the little flicker of your tongue intrigued him— the slow, wet susurration of slurping that was sloppy and without a precise way of doing it; but wow, you're so good at this, looking flawless between his legs with a slip of his shadow on your innocent silhouette.

when wicked of lust, his amused eyes smile down at you, grunting inside his hot and bothered chest with your mouth tightly pressed against his shaft before you suckle up again, hollowed cheeks staying content.

aventurine leads you, and tells you to be slow, take your time.

he wants to teach you on how to suck his dick, for possible future needs— because hey? he surely hopes this won't be the last time he would be able to do this with you. not when he can barely wait to touch, stroke and lick you himself.

— ꒰ BOOTHILL ꒱

boothill mentally congratulates himself for keeping his carnal desires in check and sliding himself slowly inside, gruelingly slow that it drove you into insanity.

not to forget on how difficult he found it to hide his visible excitement that you wanted him to be your first, the first person to fill you up with a cock, a thick and hefty cock.

your muscles immediately twitch and the insides of your thighs tense, your body snapping in all the right ways.

"ahh, yeah, good girl, such good girl for me," he slurrs in desperation of wanting more, just more of this, more of you— and oh? what sweet victory to get a literal galaxy ranger to say that out loud.

his eyes glimmer like diamonds as the constant pulse of your walls clamp into his erection, he could no longer think beyond the next touch.

boothill was supposed to be the experienced one out of the two of you yet you make it so intoxicatingly difficult for him to stay focused.

he gasps, arched his back and presses deep, stroking your insides back and forth, coaxing in perfect time with caressing kisses all over your face, "the sound you just made when i slipped it in, ugh, you can't be real," boothill whispers and hisses when you squeeze him, your toes curling at the new feeling of a heavy weight bulking in you, like it's about to reach your belly.

"i'm so lucky i can call you mine," he kisses your bottom lip and focuses on your face— your dizzying and addictive expression that he hoped would be decorated with drool and sweat all over after he's done with making you feel good.

ah well, the man knows it won't take much for you to cum all over him, you're already glistening and showing him how wet you are with the amount of slick sousing your folds and his shaft each time he pulls back, only to snap in all the way inside.

— ꒰ DR RATIO ꒱

"you wanted me to teach you on how to ride me, didn't you?" between your sobs, you manage to huff out a small shut up in an attempt to take away the attention of veritas deliberately holding you down his cock by your hips cruelly.

no sobs, no whines and aims to reason with him seemed to work in your favor nor displayed any form of you actually getting your way.

"i'm not, I mean, i said that but—," a shaken moan departs from your throat when he bottoms out, this time clearly, smirking when your tits move in harmony with his movements.

"now, why are you squirming like that then?" he continues, allowing you to feel him pulse and throb before holding you down entirely.

"you can't take it after all, can you?" with need, you attempt to bounce on him, turning utterly sensitive by the intensity of his cock swelling everywhere, no single inch of your walls left untouched.

you nod and place your hands against his chest as veritas suddenly makes you fall forward by another shove up into your cunt, your tits pressing against his stone-hard chest.

he looks at you through hooded eyes, his jaw clenched as he enjoyed watching the effect he had on you, then he fucks and fucks and fucks into you three times in a row— reckless, daring, blind to reality, making your arousal come out all the more consistent, "oh, you do? you sure?"

"yes I am, ugh, fuck, veritas just let me move already," you bark back, your body convulsing in near-pain and much relief when he rubs your walls over his shaft again. like a second heart beat between your legs, your walls flutter around his erection as you feel your blood rush to every edge and limit in your body.

"you look a little tense sitting on my cock like that," his hands squeeze your waist as he says it so confidently, in a way that would make you want to smack that pretty, stupidly handsome expression off of him.

but right now, you do not mind, you can always get revenge on him later because even after the slight bickering from before, now he holds you against his chest in a deep embrace.

it's strange, yes, but it feels real.

— ꒰ SUNDAY ꒱

"hey, please," sunday mumbles sincerely as his palm strokes over your trembling thigh, "you're so pretty, don't avert your eyes from me now," and he's awfully good at keeping you in place, holding your legs up just right while telling you to always keep them wrapped around his waist.

it feels better this way, when you practically hold me in like that is what he whispers into your ear the entire night— it's scarcely an audible tone but it's there, right against your lips, the vibrations of his angelic groans alone reaching all the way to your wet cunt.

"you feel so good around me, you know that?" he rolls his hips tentatively, swallowing the saliva in his throat as his hips jerk faster each time you moaned louder.

every single moment when a faint whimper of his name rolls from your tongue, sunday loses a slice of his sanity.

with great effort, he does the most to make you feel insanely well, finding himself entranced by the silkiness of your walls and how easy it was to slip inside you, your slick and sweat streaking your skin and practically inviting him to absolutely ruin you— until your innocent, never touched before, body would take over the musk of him.

it's a perverted fantasy, yes, but sunday needs you to be his.

after this night, he wouldn't want anybody to touch you other than himself. your moans were like an aphrodisiac to him, a drug that felt so good that it made him go feral, rock his hips faster and pinch your pulsing clit until you're creaming all over his shaft.

only then, he will teach you more, perhaps on how to suck his dick later or how you should rest your legs against his shoulders when he goes down on you— fuck, you're just so precious, clenching all over him.

your doe eyes flutter up at his own welcoming ones, and he makes you keep the eye contact until you see it, until you can see into his mind, the one his reality dwells in.

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moonstruckme · 2 days

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Hii! I love your fics so much and I was wonder if you could do a emt marauders fix where the reader gets a concussion? I just got another one and it’s really taken a toll on me. (Again, I love your work SO MUCH!! It’s so comforting!!)

Hi my sweetheart! I'm so sorry, I swear I highlighted emt marauders when I was writing this request but somehow along the way I seemed to forget that it was supposed to be the au, I hope this is still alright (I'm very down to do another for emt specifically if you would like)! And I really hope you're doing okay!! Concussions are so rough, I hope your recovery is going well <3

cw: concussion

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius wakes to shushing sounds from down the hall. Bright sunlight has snuck in through the cracks in the blinds, laying itself down in slats across the bed. He’s laying nearly sideways with no one else to shove him away, one of his feet dangling off the side of the mattress and his head on the opposite pillow.

He gets up though his body doesn’t want to, following hushed voices into the living room. The curtains are drawn closed here, too, though it’s light enough for Sirius to make you both out clearly, you sitting on the couch and Remus with your hands in his, speaking to you in a hushed voice while slow tears dribble off your chin.

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice betrays his lethargy, but you don’t seem to notice. You look up with shiny eyes as he steps into the room. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

The answer takes time to come to you. Sirius isn’t sure if you’re searching for the words or if your thoughts are just evading you as they have been since you got hurt, but his heart twinges when your brows bunch in concentration.

Remus only looks at you steadily. He’s been the most patient with you; Sirius and James both have the urge to guess at the ends to your sentences when you get stuck, but Remus only waits, letting you parse it out in your own time.

“I’m sad. Frustrated,” you decide, though you look more glum than angry. You sniff. “I want to be better already.”

Sirius nods in both understanding and sympathy, going to sit behind you on the couch. He knows Remus isn’t the most tactile, but it kills him to see you with your shoulders shaking and no arms wrapped around them. He’s quick to remedy this.

“We were playing cards,” Remus explains in his quiet way (a way Sirius has been trying to mimic to accommodate your sound sensitivity, though it doesn’t come easily to him), “and she just got a bit upset when she didn’t remember whether aces were high or low.”

Sirius tsks, nosing at your cheek. “That’s common enough, darling. It can go either way.”

“That’s what I said,” Remus tells him. His thumbs carve twin paths up the sides of your palms. “It hardly matters, I’m happy to play with them high or low.”

“I just wish I knew like usual,” you say, though you already seem to be calming. Your voice has taken on that distant quality again. It still sounds like you, just a tad dazed, like when you first wake up in the mornings.

Sirius rubs up and down your shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of your chin. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable, feeling so unlike yourself. Worse to know it’s not changing soon. You hit your head a few days ago, and it’ll probably be some time until you feel completely normal again.

Sirius has been told he can be dramatic, but when you’d fallen he honestly thought for a second that you were dead, you were so still. In the pandemonium of sirens and doctors and waiting rooms that had followed, James and Remus had each taken a bit of time to process things, get their emotions in order, but Sirius has never been able to cry in public. When they finally got to take you home, he’d gotten in the shower and cried so hard he thought he’d throw up. He’s honestly not sure if he’s ever been so terrified in his life. After you got into bed that night he’d hugged you so hard you’d called him James, and your boyfriends had all laughed before they realized you weren’t joking.

He and Remus hold you in silence for some time. None of you seem to mind. Sirius is still too sleepy to get bored, you’re presumably too concussed, and Remus is still Remus. He can look at the two of you all day and never need a diversion.

The room seems to come alive when James gets home, not only because of his sparkling personality but also because he lets in a bunch of sunlight and a cacophony of street noise with him.

“Hello, my loves,” he says, adjusting his volume halfway through the sentence. He shuts the door behind him with care, dropping his rugby bag onto the floor with far less. “How are we doing?”

“I’m doing horrible,” Sirius says, though it’s obvious he was really only asking about you. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.”

“You have just woken up,” Remus points out with a droll look, but James indulges him.

He sets a big hand on Sirius’ head and kisses between his own fingers. He smells like dirt and sweat, gross on anyone else but hot when it’s him. James gives you the same treatment next, palm stroking down the back of your head protectively.

“You alright, lovie?” he murmurs.

You hum. “Why?”

“Nothing.” His eyes slide to Sirius, a question in them. “You look as though you might’ve had a cry, that’s all.”

“Water under the bridge,” Sirius assures him, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’re all good now, just very hungry and in need of someone to make sandwiches for lunch. Right, baby?”

You nod amenably, but Remus fixes you with a curious look.

“Are you hungry, dove?” he asks.

You take some time to mull this over. Sirius bites the inside of his lip to restrain himself, and he can see James doing the same to his cheek. It’s a good thing that you’re taking such a thorough inventory of yourself, he supposes, but it’s agonizing to watch how much effort it takes you. After a while, you say, “I think so.”

Remus nods. “Alright. We had a snack a bit ago, but if you’re hungry you should eat. I can make sandwiches,” he shoots Sirius a teasing look as he starts to stand, “since I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of those who’ve just got home from training.”

“No, sit.” James urges Remus back down with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I’ve got it, I’m on an adrenaline roll right now anyway. Egg and cress all around?”

“Yes, please,” Remus says. You echo a moment later.

Sirius can’t seem to detach himself from you, which isn’t unusual but has been worse since your injury. He dots kisses along the edge of your jaw to amuse himself.

“Are you feeling tired?” Remus asks you. “You haven’t had a nap yet today.”

Sirius waits for the inevitable joke about your nursing home schedule, but it doesn’t come. You must not be feeling up to it.

You shrug, mumbling, “I’m okay.”

“Have a nap with me after lunch,” Sirius says. “I’m knackered, and I could use a cuddle buddy.”

You make a confused humming sound. “Were you just asleep?”

“I was,” he admits readily. “And it’ll be even better the second time around, with you there.”

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diorcities · 3 days

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⠀ ⠀ ── ˗ˏˋ★ˎˊ˗ a random girl hitting on them !

it's just you. library.

mark. he's chuckling the whole time. “dude, i have a girlfriend.” your finger traces figures on his pectoral and he simply pulls you away caught in a raucous laugh. “doesn't seem like it. stop giggling, this is serious!” he stands upright and gets serious; all his features relax and now he looks stern, but it doesn't take long for another burst attack him when you lock eyes with him. “i almost got it, dude! sorry, baby, sorry for laughing too much. you know you're the only one.”

haechan. “leave me alone, woman.” he takes the role very seriously. he gives you annoyed sideways glances and even rolls his eyes. you try so hard not to burst out laughing when he looks at you in exasperation. “you're still here?” he's really good, you feel very rejected. his gaze softens when he sees you about to lose it, “did i do a good job?” you nod, causing him to smile and snuggle up close to you “can i get my kiss now?”

chenle. it's hard to get into the role when he looks at you condescendingly and disgusted. “is that the best you can do?” you whine, “i'm trying my best, stop looking at me like that!” he grimaces dramatically in despair, “this is my don't fuck with me face! do you want me to stare at them the way i stare at you?” he gets closer to your face to intimidate you a bit more, “sorry, i have a girlfriend, fuck off,” he says, then he kisses you.

jaemin. he's not complying. like at all. “you're cute.” you look at him with a mixture of stunned and flustered. “she's not cute. stop.” you hit him lightly, “can i get your number, bonbon?” you say, exaggerating every word. “yeah.” oh, god. he doesn't even try. “jaemin na...” he looks at you with eyes stripped of judgment and fondly. you cry sulky as he pulls you to him and gives you pecks. “sorry, what's the game again?”

jeno. “you're really hot.” he looks at you confused by what you said and you almost explode with an overdose of tenderness, “aw, my baby.” he catches you when you propel yourself towards him, smiling with narrowed eyes. “i'm so confused right now.” you nuzzle your cheek on his chest, “you were supposed to reject her,” you mention, “oh, i thought the game hadn't started because you usually say that to me a lot.” you're snatch away from him when he pushes you as he says dead serious, “sorry, i have a girlfriend.”

jisung. you should give him points because he's seriously trying not to laugh. he's so cartoonish at this point. “wait a minute.” he leaves the room as if he's in a movie and he's leaving the frame so he can laugh. “you're such a terrible actor,” you chime when it's the 5th time he leaves to giggle around the corner. “hey!” he returns with a finger pointing at a empty spot. “stop! i have a girlfriend.” you raise your eyebrows, kinda surprised. he proceeds to pull you close “how was it?” he asks, smiling. you can only nod. “and now, for the final act. a kiss!”

renjun. “well i can't start if you stare at me with those eyes.” you're amazed, “that's the point.” you see him weigh, “no, 'cause you look too pretty, i can't reject you. try tousling your hair!... and do a funny face.” you do as he says, but then he burst out laughing. “baby,” you whine. “my pretty clown. i don't like you! leave me alone!” he says it so seriously and sternly that you start to believe that you shouldn't have done all that and, he (like always when you come up with silly ideas) just wanted to play dumb with you.

#nct dream headcanons #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #haechan fluff #mark fluff #jisung fluff #jeno fluff #jaemin fluff #renjun fluff #chenle fluff #♡dream

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miirohs · 3 days

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nightingale [m.v.s]

pairing: Mob Boss!Max Verstappen x Nurse!Reader wc: 1.7k cw: indications of ppd (not explicit but you'd have to read the lines for it), max is not the most mentally stable, abuse mentioned (not in detail) an: elle is 100% made up and if yall want more family content hmu i can do it 😝 also, the nightingale oath isn’t universally used, but essentially it’s almost the same thing as the Hippocratic oath doctors take :)

“She won’t stop crying!” Max snapped, frustratedly clutching the rails of the crib as the baby in it cried relentlessly, giving you a crazed look from the corner of his eye as you got closer. It was like dealing with a wounded animal that refused your help.

“Breath Max. Breath.” From the moment you had arrived at the Verstappen home, it had been walking on eggshells, anger fueling his every waking move from as far as three weeks as he prowled around the house.

“Godverdomme (goddamnit) Y/n, I know that! Why is she crying though?!”

You reached out a hand, stroking his back gently. You ought to be as angry as him for having you snatched off the streets but you couldn’t, not with the reveal of his child. You had the barest idea of what he might have been going through.

“I don’t know, I'm not… yeah.” The look in his eyes turned sharp and you closed your mouth, staring down at your hands.

“I’m leaving, I can’t do this right now. Don’t come after me or else.” He threatened, the anger on his face fading into a stoic look as he turned away from the child, one look you feared more than his explosive anger.

It wasn’t until he left the room, gun drawn in hand, that you could breathe again, nearly collapsing to the floor.

You turned around, weakly holding the rails. You could hear him barking at the guards from inside the room, fading into the distance as your anticipation slowly died down. You thought that maybe today, you were good as dead.

The baby’s fussing had died down long before you had finally noticed. You hesitated when looking at her, reaching in to pick her up gently.

“Hi Elle.”

All the baby did was look at you blankly, eyes still wet from the countless tears that’d been shed before Max left. She had his gorgeous blue eyes, but most likely her mothers soft face.

You knew he was a dangerous man, and now you supposed the baby knew as well, seeing the way she’d been crying before Max had finally left the room. It wasn’t an isolated incident as well, building up across many miniature incidents.

The most shocking part, though, was the fact you’d been told the biggest kingpin in the Netherlands had a child. You would’ve laughed in the face of the person telling you before, but now it felt realer than it had been for the last couple weeks.

You gently cradled the baby in your arm, rocking her lightly as you looked out the door ajar to the hall. You could hear the guard grumbling in discontent as they went about their business, yet none of the commotion had bothered Elle.

She had finally fallen asleep in your arms, gripping onto your finger as you put her down, a strong sense of familiarity washing over you.

You spent a good part of your time caring for children, as this was no different to you.

Letting go of the crib, you steeled your nerves to walk out the room, arms crossed in front of your protectively as you eyed the men in the hall.

One of the guards, Daniel, held you back gently by the shoulder, looking at you with curious eyes. This was probably one of the more rare times seeing you, it was like you’d never left the nursery from the moment you got here.

“You can’t-”

“He kidnapped me from my own home Daniel. I don’t think he has a right to keep me from going wherever I want in his house.” You snapped, surprised at how hoarse your voice seemed.

He didn’t fight you, simply nodding and slinking back to his spot because there wasn’t much he could do to convince you to stay.

You could easily recall your steps to the kitchen, the heat in your feet dispelled by the cold tiles as you entered.

You didn’t know how long you were there, standing blankly at the sink as the water continued to fill up in the glass.

The glass was overfilling and you watched it, hands clenched into fists before you released them entirely, weight rolling off your shoulders.

The sound of a door slamming snapped you out of your stupor, turning off the sink and staring into the dimly illuminated living room.

Max came through the door, blood staining his shirt and face, dirt smudge across his nose and cheeks. He noticed you, a look of disparagement in his eyes as he got closer. Looking into his eyes, it really reminded you of Elle.

He ignored you as he limped into the kitchen, opening a cabinet with more gentleness than you’d seen in days.

“I thought I told you not to leave her alone?” He said, voice scratchy and low as if he’d been screaming.

“She’s finally asleep.”

You responded. He didn’t bother to critize you again, popping open the bottle of whisky and pouring it into a glass.

He limped back to the living room, settling into an armchair with his back to the cityline. He looked almost formidable as the harsh shadows cast lines on his face.

“You sure have a way of showing you care, Max.”

“I know you aren’t criticizing me now, schat.” He laughed humorlessly, sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh yeah, because kidnapping someone to take care of your child really says you love them.” You snarked, eyes trailing to his sides.

There were minor tears when you hadn’t seen his shirt before he left, heart beating loudly as you got a glimpse of his bloodied side as he pushed himself up.

“What happened to you?”

“What do you think happened?” He said, rolling his eyes as he lowered the glass from his lips.

“Well, this isn’t healthy. For you or Elle.” You said wearily, finger tracing the rim of the glass. “Have you ever considered therapy? It might-“

“No.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden refusal. “Why not?”

“I can’t. Do you know the kind of risk that poses?” He grumbled, clearly offended at you for suggesting so.

“Okay then, sure would’ve been better if you’d kidnapped a therapist rather than an underpaid nurse to do that job for you. Secrecy and all.”

“That’s how you want to play then? I’ll give you the money, then leave this place and never come back, if you’re that desperate.” He gritted through clenched teeth, temper clearly being dialed up by the reminder.

“What? Absolutely not.” It was your turn to reject his offer, staring at him blankly. You didn’t know why that made you feel so upset.

“I’m offering you money and allowing you to leave, what more could you want, schat?” He scoffed, sharply putting down the whiskey glass as he held his head in the other hand.

“I can't just leave her like that, you know that as well as I do.” He remained silent, which you took as permission to get closer to him.

He didn’t protest as you leaned over, yet flinched slightly as you pulled his shirt up.

“Calm down, if I had any intention of hurting you, you’d know.” You rolled your eyes, turning up the light a little more so you could see the full extent of his wounds.

“I don’t think it’s necessary-“

You cut him off with a sharp inhale. The other miniature wounds stared back at you, barely cuts compared to the jagged scar that ran down his side. “When did this happen?” You whispered.

He slammed his glass down again and you flinched back, split seconds before you could look him in the eyes again. They were slightly sorrowful, but otherwise empty, where there had been every negative emotion a human could muster moments before.

“It was my dad.”

“Did he…” You didn’t finish the sentence, swallowing your doubts as you stared at it.

“Yes. It was in a fight. He won, obviously.” He answered, short and clipped as his posture dropped slightly.

“Is this why you don’t want Elle? Because you don’t want her to go through-” You asked meekly, cut off almost instantly. “The old man is dead. I killed him myself, made sure he couldn’t lay a single hand on anyone else.” Max hissed, a few beats passing in between the both of you.

“Do you know anything about her mother maybe? I could probably pull together something if-”

“She’s dead.”

You blinked, mouth gaping slightly.

“She was a prostitute. Most likely gone from all the drugs up her system by now. That’s why I needed you. Our old doctor… left his position early.”

You watched him get up from his spot, clearly done with the conversation, but something about what he said seemed to strike a chord in you.

“So you brought me to make sure-“

“The baby wasn’t affected. You weren’t a doctor but you did just fine I suppose.” He finished, back to you and he poured himself another one.

“Max, do you know what a Nightingale oath is?”

“Een nacht wat (a night what)?” You continued on, though you had a feeling you knew what he said.

“It’s an oath some of us take. To protect and to serve.”

You got up, feet pattering against the ground as you got closer to him.

“I don’t think anyone really abides by it anymore-“ He let out a short laugh, clearly unbelieving of your words as you continued, “-but maybe, just maybe, that’s why I haven’t gone home just yet.”

“Are you sure you want this Y/n? When you could just as easily leave and go home now?” He muttered softly, hunched over the countertop as your hand met his back.

“I’m sure. You need the help Max. You can’t deny it.”

“Then so be it nachtegaal. I can’t stop you when you’ve made up your mind.” He murmured, steely blue eyes meeting your own as he held your gaze.

“Maybe, once you’re well enough, you can finally form some connection to the child.” You sighed, looking at him. “I promise it.”

“You’re very confident in this plan of yours.”

You smiled inwardly at his words. “Why else would I be here if I wasn’t?”

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shadow4-1 · 1 day

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(Based on a true story) I'm imagining being a military contracted funeral director (from this post) that is surprised when the giant Lieutenant of the man you just cremated is waiting in your office.

"Oh! Um...h-hello Lieutenant Riley." You huff, completely caught off guard. "How long have you been waiting here?"

He doesn't respond. Just looks up at you with tired, distraught eyes. You've seen men bigger than him sobbing in the funeral home's lobby. He's no different despite the soft ski mask he wears to hide his face.

"I take it you're here for Mr. MacTavish?" You asked him, setting down your purse and keys on your desk. He doesn't nod or anything but he doesn't have to. You offer him a soft smile and place a hand on his shoulder. "Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Tea..." His voice is rougher than before from disuse.

You nod and gesture for him to follow you. You lead him down the hall and into a small family room. On the side of the room there's a table with a few beverage heaters and pastries. You pour him a cup of steaming water, then thumb over the organized packets of tea.

"Black? Green?"

"Black."

You rip open the packet and place it in the cup. You offer him sugar and milk but he refuses with a shake of his head. He doesn't touch the pastries either so instead you usher him to follow you once more.

You bring him into the selection room. Caskets and urns line the walls. You can feel Mr. Riley's eyes wander from squarely between your shoulders. You take the opportunity to use your key and unlock the mahogany cabinet at the back of the room.

Inside the cabinet are a handful of different sized velvet bags. You reach for the largest one in the middle of the main shelf. With careful, gentle fingers, you pull down the velvet drawstring bag to reveal a simple urn. It's round, smooth and silver in color. Before you can pick it up, you hear something with significant weight hit the carpeted floor behind you.

You whirl around to find the Lieutenant on his knees. You stop what you're doing and immediately tend to him. You grab at his shoulder and try to keep him upright. If he passes out you'll at least be able to keep him from falling directly on his face.

"Mr. Riley?"

At first it's just sniffles. He covers his entire face with one of his large, broad hands. After a few moments though, he starts to sob. His breath hitches and his voice quavers.

"Mr. Riley?" You ask again, this time softer.

He continues to cry. His body starts to shake and he almost begins to wail. You press a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. All you can really do is comfort him until he's done.

Riley pulls his hand away from his face. He tries to rub the tears off of his lower lashes but it doesn't work. His sobbing slows down but doesn't stop. He seems tired, defeated. His entire body sags with an invisible weight.

"Mr. Riley?" You whisper, patting his back.

He finally breaks from his stupor. He looks up at you with a sort of fear you've only seen a few times in men's eyes. He's being vulnerable and so he believes he's being weak. You're not supposed to see this of him. No one should. You don't agree with that sentiment and never will, so you offer him another soft smile.

Riley shifts on his knees. You think he's going to move to stand. He leans over to you, pressing the side of his face against the meat of your hip. One of his arms wraps around your thighs. He squeezes you tight, like a son would his mother. He doesn't pull away either. He just holds you.

Once again, you're caught off guard. Now this, this is something you've never experienced before. You're unsure. You don't know if you should pry out of his grip or let him continue. He's a large man. You wouldn't want to offend him. He's grieving. He lost his best friend.

You lean over again, patting at his shoulders but moving up towards his head. You cup at his jaw to get his attention.

"I never met Mr. MacTavish, but something tells me he would hate to see you like this." You swallow hard. Sometimes, to support, you realized you need to have a little bite.

"Please, get up Mr. Riley."

Something about your command seems to stir something within him. His eyes grow pointed, his brow lines deepen. He immediately lets go of you like your body heat burns. And with that, hd staggers up off his knees. He refuses to look you in the eye.

Now free, you walk over to the cabinet. You replace the velvet bag around Mr. MacTavish's urn. You glance back at Riley and sigh.

"I know this is hard. Are you sure you want to pick up Mr. MacTavish today?" You hum. "I can call Captain Price to come instead. I'm sure he'd understand."

Riley stands there on shaky ankles still sniffling. He won't meet your eyes. He seems to be thinking hard about your words. He nods once.

You close and lock up the cabinet before escorting Mr. Riley to the lobby. The midday sun casts beautiful shadows across the white walls. The receptionist must've taken her lunch break as it was just the two of you.

"Here's my card. I'm sure you don't need it but um...if you need anything. Need someone to talk to? You can call me anytime." You smiled earnestly, placing the small card in his palm.

"Don't be ashamed, Mr. Riley. It's nor-"

"Simon."

You raised a brow but realized what he meant. You nodded. "Mr. Simon."

"No. Just Simon."

You give him a sheepish smile. "Simon."

He nods back at you, his regular demeanor having seemed to return. He tucks your card away.

"I'll be back for you."

You open your mouth to question him. You can't tell if his words are a threat or simply an odd promise. He's already turned to leave. You watch him walk out of the facilities' glass double doors. He dissappears into the sunlight a moment later.

You feel nervous but you feel...fulfilled? Mr. Rile-er Simon...is a peculiar man. You didn't want for him to break down and cling to you, but the fact he did make your heart swell. You'd always heard comments that you were just that type of person, the kind that even the most closed off people could open up to. For a moment you sat there lost in that thought. You enjoyed the feeling.

Then you had to get back to work.

You picked up the receptionist's phone, pulled a card out of your pocket, and then dialed the number of the Captain scrawled on the back.

#call of duty #cod imagines #mw2 #mw2 headcanons #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain price #simon riley x reader

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sescoups · 1 day

Text

favorite coworker - choi vernon

masterlist

word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)

summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.

a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable

18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3

warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3

“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”

“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.

Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”

“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”

Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.

“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”

“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”

“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”

You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.

The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”

The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.

“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”

You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”

His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.

“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”

“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”

The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.

You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.

The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.

It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.

While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.

Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.

“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”

You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.

“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”

He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.

You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.

“What the fuck, Nonnie?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”

“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”

The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.

“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”

“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”

“So good,” he nods earnestly.

You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.

“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”

He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.

You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.

The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.

“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.

“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”

“Nice.”

“You gonna work or rest, bud?”

Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.

“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”

“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”

He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.

When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.

“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”

“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.

“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”

Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.

“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”

“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”

“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”

He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.

“Sorry. That was TMI.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”

“What about?”

Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.

“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”

“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”

“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”

His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.

“What, are you offering?”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.

You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…

The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.

“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.

“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”

You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”

There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.

He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.

“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”

You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.

Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.

He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.

His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.

You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.

“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”

“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”

Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.

One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.

“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”

You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.

The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.

You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You’re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.

“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”

“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.

“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”

You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.

His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.

“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.

“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.

“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”

You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.

Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.

“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”

You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.

“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.

“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”

The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.

His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.

You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.

“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.

“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.

“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”

You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.

“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”

His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.

Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.

“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.

He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.

“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”

“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”

“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”

He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.

masterlist

a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt vernon #vernon x reader #vernon smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #svt fic #svt fanfic #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #sescoups writes

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starryhutcherson · 3 days

Text

━━ A NEW FAMILIAR

author's note: crawled out of my hole for this one guys. sorry for being so ghost mode im working on putting out more stuff, apologies if this isn't of the highest quality as i'm running on sugar free redbull and three hours of sleep ! love my life hahahahaAHHHH

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: best friend!mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 4600+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

Mike’s expression always glooms when you bring up the next date you’ve arranged. He knows how this story plays out; he knows the truth behind the men you’ve matched with on whatever sketchy website you’ve wasted your time on. They’ve molded themselves into the embodiment of perfection, through falsified photos and fabrications buried in their bios. His patience crumbles like fireplace ash as you skip around his living room and drone on about whatever dickhead you’ve set your poor, precious heart on.

He knows, always, the the outcome is running makeup and salty cheeks, sobbing on the floor of his living room in a creasing satin dress and his welcoming arms, a bitter exclamation of “you were right Mike” leaving your lips in the knowing silence and him gritting his jaw and pretending that it doesn’t bother him the the only habits you ever find yourself falling back into are the bad ones.

It’s no different today.

Mark or Matt or Mitch – you really were killing him, because it should be Mike. It should be him. Him that you’re getting ready for, him that you’re daydreaming about. And it’s an odd feeling, like a movie where your favorite character dies and then movie finishes and you have to accept that they aren’t coming back, no matter how long you sit glued to the reclinable chair, popcorn crunched beneath your sneakers and the credit-scene reflected in your shrinking pupils.

Mike’s not the type to be happier with the hope – he’d let the truth swallow him up, sink into his creaking bones, he’d live with the loss. But he still has hope for you. He has hope that your eyes will open and you’ll seep into his brain and his breath and his bed. He hopes you’ll start seeing him instead of just looking. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Ignorant optimism.

It feels like it.

It feels like it, right now, when he’s leaning against the doorframe of his bathroom and watching you get ready, your animated chatter reverberating around the small space between coats of mascara. He offered to give you a ride before you’d even asked, and he’ll tolerate the sting of watching you get out of the car looking all pretty for someone who isn’t him, just to make sure you get there safely. It’s the type of sacrifice he’ll make for you.

“I can’t even feel my face, I’ve been smiling so hard all day!” You squeal, powdering your cheeks with more purposeless product – he thinks it’s all pointless. You’re radiant, even in the harsh lighting of his bathroom.

He offers a low grunt. What is he supposed to say? He’s not happy. And he’s not gonna pretend he is.

You either don’t notice or choose to ignore, continuing to doll yourself up to whatever standards you have for yourself. “I mean, he says he’s been skiing since he was 6. He’s practically an olympian.”

Mike scoffs.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can you hurry up?”

“Alright, grumpy. Calm down. I gotta do my lips and then I’m ready. Plus, nobody told you that you gotta stand here.”

A fleeting flush of fuchsia permeates his cheeks, but he looks down at his worn shoes to hide it. It’s true. He didn’t have to stand here. But if an angel was populating your bathroom you’d want to take a peek, would you not? That’s how he thinks you look. Angelic. Glowing from your soul, a content smile knitted on your lips. You might as well have a halo and wings – that heaven-sent aura is reinforced when you douse yourself in lingering washes of that sweet perfume that’s branded itself to you. He’d recognise that floral aroma anywhere, the way a shark detects a drop of blood amongst saline scattered seas.

“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?”

Cruelest question of them all. “You look… fine. Good.”

A knot forms in your brow. “All this effort for that terrible answer?” Playful, but with a truthful undertone. Why do you value his opinion so much? He doesn’t want to assume anything.

“Well I’m not the person you’re dressing up for.” I wish I was. He doesn’t say the other words, but he thinks them so hard he’s half convinced if you were listening in the right spot, or looking into his eyes for long enough that you’d hear it anyway.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just get going, don’t wanna keep Mack waiting.”

Two letters. That’s all it would take. That’s all he’d have to swap to make it him.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

✩‧₊˚

Even if you aren’t aware, even if he did offer, he drives begrudgingly. He focuses as much as he can, on the road ahead and not your glistening figure beside him in the passenger seat, the very definition of temptation.

The mall parking lot is barren, a few gleaming cars scattered amongst the otherwise desolate area. He pulls into a space, sets the car in park, rakes in a greedy sigh of air.

“If anything happens, call me.”

You sneer teasingly. “Don’t be so pessimistic. It’s gonna be great, he could be my future husband, y’know.”

Yep. Mack, the 35 year old you've met online, who’s only notable talent seems to be skiing and his greatest life achievement to date is shooting a deer, whose head is mounted to the wall in his bedroom, typically visible in the background of his many instagram posts which involved his shirtless figure straining to flex his overly pronounced bulk. A match made in heaven. He wants to scream.

And how can you even tell him to not be pessimistic? How can you look him in the eyes and act like this moment hasn’t happened time after time, the point of no return before an evening spent crying in his arms as he reassures you that your failed dates are never your fault, even though by now it seems like you must be seeking out the same genre of shitty man if you’re this good at getting your heart broken. He’s sick of picking up the fragile little pieces of his bathroom floor, cutting himself on the shards of a heart that’ll never be his. You deserve more than these half-baked, single night romances. He could show you that.

“Yeah, sure,” he grits. “Future husband. Just call me, seriously.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.”

And with that, you’re off, disappearing into the gaping mouth of the mall’s entrance, and he watches with an alkaline feeling growing in his stomach. Your hair is caught up in the wind like clothing on a washline and he thinks his hope is all drained out.

✩‧₊˚

Mike spends a good two hours back at his house. His movements feel vacuous, staring ahead at the screen, barely processing the raging garbage that masquerades as reality TV. The rain has picked up outside, licking at the window panes with a growing intensity.

He’s not happy about the jean skirt and tiny little tank top you’d clad yourself in prior to leaving, you’re probably frigid by now in the cold. You did however reassure him that Mack was gonna drive you home, or even worse, take you back to his place, so his stupid fucking elk head trophie could watch with it’s empty eyes while the pair of you fuck on the bed that his mom still has to make for him because he never can quite manage those fitted sheets, can he? Fucking manchild.

Shit. Mike’s feeling so so bitter. Maybe it’s because he’s finally realized that this is the dreaded pattern he’s going to have to endure with you until death. Or until he braves up and actually tells you that he’s been in love with you since the fifth day of second grade, when you mouthily confronted Jerry Murdoch and told him to give Mike his crayons back.

With a weak sigh, he turns the TV off with a click of the remote still encaptured in the loose hold of his fist, and decides to see if he can melt into any form of sleep – but the knock on his door prevents him from doing so.

He arises lethargically, not having much on his mind but the denial of his slumber as he shuffles over and turns the handle, but then, it’s you.

Fluttery lashes melted to black smudges beneath your eyes, a mixture of rainwater and tears, completely drenched and dripping all over his doormat, your body is trembling and you’re wracked with tiny little cries and he’s feeling so many emotions he believes he might implode.

He pulls you inside and into his arms, stroking your back in gentle, soothing motions, and it kills him that this has become routine. He’s angry. He’s sick of this.

“What happened this time?” He grunts softly.

“He didn’t even show up. He couldn’t even send a message as to why, Mike,” you sniffle into his warm chest, drunk off the even echo of his heartbeat.

A moment’s silence rots like aged fruit. He draws a breath in, then out, then in again.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

You crane your face upwards to meet him, instantly bathed in a nervous shiver when you see how serious he looks.

“My phone was dead.” Is all you can manage to mumble.

“What?” He’s pissed. “Why didn’t you charge it? You could have charged it there, they have outlets at the mall. Or you could’ve used someone else’s, so you didn’t have to walk home in the rain, because you’re drenched.”

“I don’t–”

“Y’know how dangerous it is to walk around alone in this shitty neighborhood? Half the street lights don’t even work, and I don’t even know any of my neighbors, or what kinda people walk around here at night.” He grumbles. “I shouldn’t have to tell you all this, I’m sick of explaining all this to you.”

You roll your eyes irritably, releasing yourself from his arms and crossing your own across your dripping wet torso. “How was I supposed to know he was gonna stand me up? You’re telling me I should just expect it?”

He blinks like a deer in headlights, silence settles into his flesh.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

You scoff. “It’s what you implied.”

“It’s not what I—” He grumbles weakly under his breath, cutting himself off, deciding reasoning with you is somewhat of a useless attempt. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”

“What, charge my phone next time? Bring a raincoat? Yeah, great help, seriously, don’t know where I’d be without you,” your sarcasm hits like gunshot wounds to the teeth.

“Or maybe you should try to meet actual people, instead of fake ones from some stupid website.”

After a cold shiver bites up your spine, your expression deepens with defense. What is his fucking problem? “At least I try to get out of the house! At least I don’t spend every hour of every day moping around and feeling sorry for myself!”

The pair of you fight, sure, every good relationship, friend or romance or family or whatever should, but nothing like this. This is stone-set, it’s been coming for a while, the wild gesticulations and the pacing and the raised voices. It shakes the bones of the weakened house.

“Don’t,” Mike says with a furious edge, fists tightening and untightening like he’s about to take a swing at the wall, like this is going to end with bleeding knuckles nipped with shards of worn plaster. “Don’t throw that in my face, I do everything I can, for you and Abby. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“So what, you’re so fucking miserable in your own life that you have to try and control mine?”

“Control? You’re like my child! You don’t even know how to take care of yourself half the time, so yes, I try to help you not to make such shitty decisions!”

You scowl. “You’re not obligated to do anything for me, y’know Mike. Why do you keep me around if I’m that much of a chore for you!”

He snaps, the tension in his fists bleeding up into his throat, his mouth, the words clot behind his gums and suddenly they tumble out in a fury-fueled shout. “Because you’ve got no one else!”

You deflate, wilting like a flame without oxygen, and Mike deems the silence to be more cruel than anything else you’ve said to him tonight. He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once, the quiet crumbles around him like a burning building and he fears he’ll become rubble beneath the debris.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… god, just–” His eyes flick to you, and then retreat back down to the faded living room carpet. He can’t swallow his guilt this time. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

“It’s fine,” you say coldly, knuckling away an angry tear. The salt water is the trick of nostalgia, you’ve cried like this so many times. Your breakage of those promises to yourself. It’ll be different. And it never is.

“No. It’s not – I’m a dick, I just… I hate watching other people ruin your life. You deserve better.”

Better. What is better? Some twisted fantasy that some people are indulged with and others are left longing for. That you’re left longing for. You know he’s tired of the same bullshit that you force yourself through, convincing yourself of change, painting yourself up to be fit for presentation, and hoping that whoever you’ve leeched onto likes what they see, so you don’t have to feel so alone anymore. You’re oblivious, painfully so. Because Mike could plaster together the cracks in your splintering psyche, if you’d just let him in.

“Whatever, Mike. It’s true anyway.”

There’s a hole in his heart in the shape of your name. He begs you. Fill it. A part of him shatters at the defeat in your words — he’s crumbled you to the bone, to the marrow. He’ll build you back up. You deserve it.

“No it isn't. No it isn’t. You have me. You’ll always have me.”

A silence pervades; the look in his eyes is one of pleading, that you’ll stop and see what he’s offering you, that you’ll stop chasing your own tail, that you’ll stop the cycle.

“Mike…”

“And Abby.”

You indulge him.

“You have me. And you have Abby. And I know that’s… not much, but she loves you. So much. And I’m sorry, ‘cause I know I don’t say it enough, I don’t…. I don’t say how much you mean to me, but I just—”

“Mike.”

He wallows in the waters of your rain kissed eyes, the way your pupils pulse and the words are falling before he can swallow them back down.

“I love you.”

He gives you that stare. That stare that’s the color of black coffee, the look that you can feel, unearthing the graveyard of wilting feelings you’ve tried to bury, the heart that beats for him him him, lodged between the ivory bars of your ribcage. He maps you out with his eyes, he looks at you the way the sun hungers for daybreak.

He’s waiting. He’d wait forever.

“And… and seeing you with these… shitty people who don’t even care about you, it just…” He sighs exasperatedly, dragging a sweaty palm down his face.

His sentences can’t seem to finish themselves. This is harder than it looks in the movies. Harder than when he’s practiced in the mirror, when Abby’s walked in and giggled at him and told him to just fess up.

“You love me? Like…”

He looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “Yeah. I do.”

You’re beyond bewildered. He loves you. He loves you.

“What– but… you—”

“You don’t have to… say anything. I just, I can’t… I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t do it.”

You reach for his hand. It’s a little clammy, a little trembly, but it’s a perfect fit. Just like you.

“I love you too, Mike.”

What?

“You… do?”

He’s skeptical, but he’s also swooning. A stone man is slowly cracking.

“I just didn’t… didn’t think I could have you. I mean, you’re so… you’re everything, y’know? You’re a good brother, and you work so hard, and you’re… I’m just… I don’t think I deserve you,” you whisper, confessing. With a newfound stroke of confidence, he approaches, one hand snaking around to the small of your back, another on your cheek. He’s gentle. In his eyes, you’re porcelain. Precious. Fragile. At least, at this moment. But you love him too and that’s all he needs. It’s all he’s ever needed.

“You deserve everything.” He says it so quietly it’s barely audible. And then, nothing is audible because he’s carefully pulling your lips to his, linking you in every way, his hands tangle into your damp hair and he’s kissing you.

His lips chase yours in messy, uncalculated movements. He’s starting small. It’s been a while. And he’s gonna take his time with you. He’s gonna show you what you deserve. Soft sounds squeak past his lips as they flutter against yours, and you’re closer and closer and closer still, impossibly so.

Within moments he’s whisking you off to his bedroom, his hand tangled with yours, an interlace tight enough to cause ropeburn. His skin chafes with yours, and then he’s kissing you again atop his navy comforter.

He’s gentle, respectful, but you understand what he’s trying to tell you, what he’s been trying to tell you. He speaks through silken drags of his tongue, through the hand that holds your cheek steady— he feels as though he’s gripping the very cusp of a constellation. You taste like stardust. You glow like the waning moon.

He breathes heavily in the expanse of his throat, his pants have become tight and wet and filthy; he’s been subconsciously grinding down into your lap. You’re a little shaky and your pupils have darkened with lust and he is going to show you what you mean to him. What you’ve been missing.

His hand falls lower, into the slope of torso that dips into your hips. His eyes travel back and forth, searching, hunting for the desire that he feels mirrored back at him. Do you want this, the way he does? Do you? His hardened stare doesn’t speak loud enough. He elaborates.

“Can I… uh… do you wanna…?”

Do you want to? You need to.

“Shit, okay,” he croaks out, jaw tense and tight as he traces you beneath calloused fingers. You didn’t realize you said that out loud.

He’s endearingly awkward – you know from languid late-night conversations that he hasn’t done this a lot. Maybe even at all. But he’s sweet, so sweet, like lapping up sugar and feeling it dissolve on your tongue, feeling him dissolve on your tongue, giving you comfort and cavities.

“Can I take this off?” He asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of your camisole. A short nod, and he’s sliding it over your sweat-pricked figure, admiring your contours in the whisper of evening moonlight that bleeds through holes in his moth-eaten curtains. You’re perfect, and he knew you would be.

He caresses your skin gently, drunk on the mellow feeling of your bare stomach beneath his fingertips. Your bra is black, a little lace peering along the straps, your breasts spilling into the fabric. He reaches around your back, fumbling at the clasp. When the garment drops, his hands are replacing it before you can even blink.

“Beautiful,” he manages to get out, thumbing over your nipples.

“Mngh, Mike—”

“Sh. Just let me… just let me. Let me make you feel good. Please?” He grunts out under his breathless voice, and how could you deny such a request?

The moment you agree, he’s grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you towards him slightly, so your back is nearly flat against his mattress and he’s settling himself in the gap that you create for him.

Your skirt comes off first. Your panties are undeniably soused, his fingers trace the big wet spot that’s dripping all for him, teasing you through torturously thin cotton.

“Mike,” you mewl gently, fingers settling in his nest of chocolate curls that are damp with sweat. A firm tweak and he’s groaning, his voice melting away into nothing like hot tar.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles to himself, like he’s never seen anything like it. Probably not in a while. His finger hooks beneath the waistband, pulls it out gently, and lets it go. It slaps against your hip bone and another fresh sound seeps from your lips.

“Mike, shit, please just do something—”

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than you, carefully sliding your panties from your waist, down past your ankles, and he’s tossing them to join the pile of clothes that has begun to collect on his bedroom floor.

You’re here, before him. The girl he waited for. Your soft flesh is glistening, clenching painfully around nothing, and he’s salivating at the sight of you. He pries your legs out further with his warm hands, leaving them to linger on your bare flesh for a few drawn out moments, before he claims what’s rightfully his.

He presses a trialing kiss to your clit, and your back curves delicately, fingers tightening their grasp in his hair. He moans into you at this action, and you, in turn, moan as well. Confidence creates itself in him with each little whimper that he gets you to release, and he’s answering back, hearing your cries, your calls of his name with his own unabashed exclamations of pleasure. This is just as good for him, as it is for you.

“Mike,” you whine gently, and he’s mumbling weak praise right into your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long.”

It’s barely audible between his languid sucks; he’s lapping at your drooling entrance, fingers subtly creeping closer, up and along your thighs and settling right above your throbbing clit. He presses his thumb against it, tracing sinful circles against your bud— once, twice, and then you’re far too close to the edge.

“Oh, Mike I’m gonna come,” you choke out between gasps.

“Do it. Please.”

He’s begging you.

And you oblige. With a trembling sob, your thighs tense around his head, keeping him locked in place, capturing him and making sure he finishes the job, and oh does he plan to. When you soar, he’s still holding you in place, soothing the electric sparks pulsating throughout your body.

He savors your sounds, and when they stop coming, he presses a lingering peck on your inner thigh, stubble scraping at the sensitive dermis. He then raises his face to your level, the light coruscating off the filthy souvenir etched all over his face, your glittering arousal that he wears so proudly.

He steals a proper kiss from you, rubbing your side as a gentle comfort. He’s completely hard now, tenting his sweats, leaking against the fabric. You gingerly reach out, tracing what you assume to be the head of his cock, and he sags, boneless, against your touch.

“Fuck, baby I—”

“Baby?” You chuckle softly, still hazed from the candy-coated afterglow of your orgasm. The first of many, he hopes.

“Mngh— g… got a problem?” He grumbles softly, almost quivering as you begin to palm him with purpose.

“It’s out of character,” you tell him gently.

“Shit, can I be inside you?” He asks you, voice ripped raw.

And once again, Mike Schmidt leaves you breathless.

“Yeah. I need it. I need you.”

He groans, slipping off his pants and boxers without so much as another word from your swollen lips. He’s hard, angrily so, his cock pulses violently and a little whimper escapes through the crack in his bitten lips when it slaps against his stomach.

He’s stroking himself slowly, base to tip and then back again, collecting the pearls of precum that dribble from his slit. He’s never been so ready for something. For you. It’s all for you.

He’s holding you, thumbing your hip bones and gently nudging himself into your hole, cooing at every cry that crawls from the crevices of your throat. When he bottoms out, finally, it’s safe to say that he gets a little dumb. “Oh, shit, I’m not— not gonna last long, you’re so tight, shit…” He’s rambling a little. It’s cute.

A few wandering kisses land on you the way dandelion spores decorate a skyline – your cheek and your chin and your jaw, as he waits for you to let him move. You’re squeezing him for all he’s got and he’s three seconds away from spilling before he’s even so much as thrusted. You do this to him.

All those days, staring into your eyes and wondering if you’d ever see him the way you do, all those nights, stroking your hair and softening your saddened sobs after failed date after failed date. They’re all worth it.

You’re clamping down on him, warm and wet and wavering, and you’re exhaling softly through your nose and telling him to move, begging him to move, to make you feel good, and it’s what he does.

He pumps into you with passion, magnetized to your every movement. He’s satisfying a decade worth of insatiable craving, he’s chasing your hips with his. You end where he begins.

The headboard creaks and slams against thin plastered walls, one hand grips onto it with alabaster knuckles and the other one holds your hips for better leverage. He doesn’t need to say it, but each knocked kiss of his pelvis to yours is a silent I love you I love you I love you.

“Oh my god Mike,” you sob, and he slides himself deeper, hitting everywhere he wants to reach. Everywhere to make you quiver beneath him.

“You d—don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he moans lowly. “How many times I’ve imagined you like— like this.”

He’s blabbering, every stray thought that passes through his head is already blossoming on his tongue and out into the air before he can even think twice. Admittedly, you’re too blissed out in your own mind to really respond, but it’s arousing all the same.

“You’re so… so beautiful,” he’s flushed and he’s faltering, and you know he’s close before he even announces it.

“Shit, baby, I can’t— can’t last much longer,” he stammers, his bruising pace beginning to shake.

“Do it in me, Mike, please, please,” shit, are you trying to kill him? Your word is the only law he knows, and he’s wrapping his arms around your torso and diving his head in the elegant slope of your collarbone, biting down into the skin and spasming somewhere deep in your welcoming walls.

He tries to keep himself quiet, but it’s really a futile effort. His hips jut sporadically as he empties himself inside you, and the sudden flood of subtle heat is all it takes for you to topple over as well.

Bliss teeters back into reality after a seemingly ceaseless moment. He peels his head from its previous position to admire you, to stroke a stray lock of hair from your forehead and nervously greet it with a kiss.

He doesn’t let go of you. Not now, not ever, he thinks to himself. His arms snake around you tighter, and somehow it’s even more intimate after the fact. His bare chest collides with your back, his nose rests comfortably against the crown of your head. The pair of you follow each other into a dreamless sleep, safe in the sanctuary of a warm bed and an even warmer embrace.

He’s found his new familiar.

masterlist

✩‧₊

#mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #peeta mellark smut #hunger games #michael schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson angst #josh hutcherson fluff

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jeannineee · 3 days

Text

coming up lavender, part three

cassian x reader x azriel

part one part two

author’s note: part three!!! comment to be added to taglist <3

summary: reader tries to hone her abilities. cassian is down bad. azriel is too, but he acts like azriel.

warnings: suggestiveness!! this is an 18+ series.

“I can’t do it.”

Scowl, rise to your feet. Glare at Rhysand, picture of indifference, if not a little amused.

“You’ve been trying for all of thirty minutes. You’ll have to work at it.”

Cross your arms over your chest, avoid his gaze as you make your way across the room to pour a glass of water. "My power isn't summoned on command. It surfaces when I feel any strong emotion. I learned that a long time ago."

Rhys sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think you're wrong. I think you're scared--"

Your whirl on him, seething. "I am not scared."

He holds his hands up, body tense as his violet eyes dart between your face and your hands. You follow his eyes, face heating as you notice your fists, encased in swirls of purple energy.

Sigh and murmur an apology as you force your power away. "I didn't mean--"

"I know."

"I just--I know my power. I don't think it will work the way you want it to."

Rhys nods. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Offer him a grateful smile, toy with your thumbs as you gather what little courage remains within you. "Can I--will I be able to leave the House soon?"

Rhys pauses in the doorway. "You haven't made much progress. It's been almost three weeks."

"I know that," you reply, picking nervously at your nails. "I just--I need out."

He ponders, remaining still for so long you almost consider relenting.

"I'll permit you to explore the city."

Your heart leaps out of your chest. "Thank you--"

"But you will need an escort. Myself or my inner circle. Whoever is available any time you want to leave."

Bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm not dangerous, Rhysand."

"You are. More than you know. But I'm not requiring you to have an escort solely because of that."

"Then why?"

"If our enemies knew of your power, they would stop at nothing to take it."

Take you, is the part he didn't say aloud.

"I don't understand."

"My inner circle are having dinner at my townhouse tomorrow night. We'll explain everything to you then," Rhys pauses, as if having a silent conversation with himself--no, with someone else. "For now, enjoy Velaris. My home is yours."

~~~

"You're my escort?"

Cassian sports a shit-eating grin as he approaches you. "Sure am. Who better to show you around?"

Close your eyes and sigh. "Fine." You step forward, place your hand on his bicep. Try not to notice how large it is. When you don't notice a change in the environment, your eyes open again, to be met with a confused Cassian.

"I'm more than happy to let you touch me, but I am curious as to why...?"

Groan and drop your hand. "Aren't we supposed to winnow?"

"Winnow?" Cassian barks a laugh. "No. I can't winnow. We're flying."

"We're what?"

"You heard me, sweetheart."

Glance down to the city. The very far away city. A couple thousand feet below. "I don't like heights."

"That's tough," Cassian says from behind you. "But it's flying, or climbing down ten thousand steps."

Loose a shaky breath. "You better not drop me."

A wide grin. "Didn't you feel my arm? I could bench press you for hours and not get tired."

Your cheeks flush. "Let's just get on with it. We don't have all day."

A chuckle from Cassian, and he places one arm behind your knees, the other behind your back, lifting you with ease. "Bossy. I like it."

He doesn't give you the dignity of a response before launching into the air. You bury your face in his chest on instinct, noting the way the wind whistles in your ears. The air is chill enough that you find yourself grateful for his warmth, trying ever-so-subtly to lean into his touch.

"Cold?" Cassian questions, grip tightening a bit.

So much for subtle.

"Just a little."

"You should look."

"Absolutely not."

Cassian scoffs. "I won't drop you. You're safe. Just look."

You slowly, very slowly turn your head, audibly gasping as you take in the view around you. Snow-capped mountains in the distance, a winding river leading into the sea, surrounded by countless ships and houses and people. So many people. "Oh, wow."

"I know," Cassian's breath fans against your ear, and you turn, only to find him staring at you, rather than the view.

Clear your throat as your face burns, remnants of that strange ache in your chest returning as you ask, "You've lived here your whole life--in Velaris?"

"Mostly. I've spent plenty of time in Illyria, though."

"I've heard it's brutal."

Cassian nods. "Not so different from your Court of Nightmares."

You study each other for a moment; some sort of unspoken understanding passing between you, before forcing your attention back to the scenic view; stomach dropping a bit as Cassian begins descending.

~~~

“That’s the best food I’ve had in a while,” you tell Cassian as you sit back in your chair, so full you’re fairly certain your stomach will burst.

Cassian hums and nods; speaking over a mouthful of food. “Told you so. Nothing like it.”

You sigh, tilt your head back. Grateful for the outdoor table; the sun in your face, warming your skin. Grateful for the salt-kissed air filling your lungs. Grateful for things you never thought you’d have.

“Doing alright?”

Cassian’s voice startles you from your thoughts, and you sit up, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah. Just contemplating.”

He arches a brow, silently urging you to continue.

“I never had…anything like this, back…” you swallow thickly, words caught in your throat, “…back home, if you can call it that. This is all new to me.” Fold your hands in your lap and pick at your nails; avert your eyes. "Nature, people, community...”

The silence stretches long enough that you begin to wonder if you've said too much.

"I slept outside, the first several years of my childhood. Not even in a tent. Outside. On the ground."

You meet his eyes, feeling a pull so strong you lose your breath. "I--I'm so sorry."

Cassian smiles halfheartedly, and continues, "I didn't know true kindness until I met Rhys. He was an ass, but the first real friend I had. My point is--I understand, how everything feels foreign."

“Like I don’t belong,” you mutter quietly.

“That will go away too, with time,” he says, before rising from his chair and holding a hand out to you. “If you’re ready, we can head back to the House.”

Slowly take his calloused hand, ignoring the flutter in your chest as you do so. “Lead the way.”

~~~

“Careful,” Cassian murmurs gently as he helps you settle after landing back at the House of Wind. “Didn’t realize you were so clumsy.”

Roll your eyes. “We’ve been walking around all day. My feet are bound to hurt.”

Cassian grins. “I’d be more than happy to carry you.”

You laugh, unamused as you turn on your heel. “Unnecessary, but thank—”

You trip over your own foot and curse, prepared to eat the floor, but Cassian grabs you, settling you upright. You lock eyes, face burning with embarrassment.

Cassian arches a brow. “You were saying…?”

“I was saying…” breath catches as you realize his hands are still on your waist, but you make no move to stop him. “I was saying that carrying me is unnecessary, though i’m sure you’d jump at the opportunity to show off—”

This time, you’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours. You tense at first in shock, but melt into him as though you’d kissed him a thousand times before. Stifle a whimper as his tongue dances with yours, still tasting of wine.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed when Cassian pulls away. His eyes search yours, almost worried. “Are you okay? I probably should have asked first—I didn’t think—”

You smile. “I’m fine. More than.”

~~~

That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to cease your racing thoughts. Those of your powers, of the consequences of leaving the Hewn City. But the main concern that won’t leave you:

Who are the Night Court’s enemies, and why were you relevant to them?

See a shadow out of the corner of your eye, and scoff as you sit up. It swirls around the foot of your bed; observing.

“Tell your master he doesn’t need to spy on me. No evil plots coming from me.”

The shadow remains. In your head, you hear a question: Are you alright?

“I’m fine. Get out of my head.”

The shadow leaves your room, though you still have the feeling of being watched. Surprisingly, it gives you some level of comfort. But as you near the brink of sleep, you can’t rid yourself of the impending doom; the sense that the worst is yet to come.

taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @marina468 @cherry-cin @sevikas-whore @tequilya @nickishadow139 @thatacotargirl @skylarkalchemist @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams @esposadomd @aelincaddel @sharknutz @pruvii

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #azriel angst #cassian angst #azriel x cassian x reader #cassian x azriel x reader #acotar angst #cassian smut #azriel smut #cazriel x reader #coming up lavender

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star-suh · 20 hours

Text

Wet Dreams

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: sub top himbo (attempt) mingyu, established relationship, somnophilia, pet names, restraints, unprotected sex, blowjob, musk kink, tummy bulge, breeding and facial, dumbification, implied second round.

—

mingyu was a heavy sleeper, there could be a tornado right outside his house and he wouldn't open an eye. he is also one of those big muscular dumb guys something that make him cute to some people but for others (yn) it made him even hotter. after some time of knowing each other and watching how their connection grew stronger by the days they decided to be a couple.

one night yn confesses something to mingyu, “you see, i wish we could go for a second round but you always fall asleep” he pouts. “aww baby i'm sorry” the tall apologizes “it's just that being with you makes me feel so good that i want to give you all the pleasure”, he kisses his forehead and taps his chin as if he was thinking about something.

“next time even if i fall asleep you can keep doing it with me, if you manage to keep it hard”...

one morning yn woke up for no reason and he hates that, it was 6:30 am, and when yn wakes up he hardly can go back to sleep. looking for ways to entertain himself at such early hours something under the sheets caught his eyes. mingyu's big dick standing in all his glory forming a tent with the white sheet “wood morning to me” murmured yn.

he quickly went to his closet and from a drawer he takes out a pair of red ropes that he uses to tie every limb from mingyu to each corner of the bed. the big dumb guy barely moves, it's like he doesn't feel the burning sensation of the ropes around his limbs. yn positioned himself in between his legs and started to smell the other’s dick and balls “such a manly musk”. his tongue went up and down on each side of that fat meat, making sure to leave it as wet as possible. slowly he tried to deepthroat him, relaxing his throat so he can swallow more and more each time. he finally reach the base of the shaft but quickly pulls out feeling his gag reflexes kicking in “this is so good” he slaps the saliva-smeared cock in his face leaving some of it on his face. “naughty boy who knows what you're dreaming about that is making you this hard, damn!” the bottom exclaimed, feeling it throbbing in his hand.

“hngh” mingyu moaned, yn stopped thinking he woke up but he didn't. he supposed it was just a reflex of how good he was feeling right now.

he aligned the already lubed tip right under his hole and slowly sat down on it, feeling how that thick dick stretched his walls. he was just halfway through and yn was already a moaning mess, that's how good mingyu's dick felt. when he bottomed out he waited some minutes to start moving. up and down with gentle hip movements so mingyu doesn't wake up, he was also being careful to not squeeze that hard.

“shit mingyu, i love your dick so much” unconsciously yn sped up his movements, just chasing his pleasure, “my fucking god, i want more of you… fucking ruin me” drool dripped down his chin, his hooded eyes trying to focus on something but failing at doing it. he bounces more and more fast, not caring anymore if mingyu wakes up he just wants that cum deep inside his bulging tummy “fill me up baby”.

mingyu felt some heavy weight on his crotch area so he opened his eyes, he blinked a few times to focus and see what was happening, it was yn's back and he kept staring at it while moaning and grunting, “yn?” he asks and the other stopped his movements, “yes?” he replies with some shyness laced in his voice. “what are you doing?” the top asks. yn bit his lip *looks like he woke up but his brain didn't* he thought and resumed his riding. after what feels like a long time mingyu realized that yn was fucking himself on his dick, he watched how that hungry hole swallowed all his inches, the sight made him hornier and yn knew that because he felt the cock growing and throbbing inside him. mingyu tried to meet yn's thrusts with his, the wet skin slapping sound echoing in all the room. yn laid back on top of mingyu moving his hips to massage that thick meat inside him “i fucking love you gyuuu~” yn was already gone, too cockdrunked to think straight. yn lift himself up with his arms so he can sit harder on the cock and also see better everytime mingyu's dick makes the bulge on his lower tummy when he goes deep. yn turns so he's now facing his boyfriend, riding even harder chasing that pleasant feeling. cumming hands free seconds later, squirting the cum all over his face.

yn freed mingyu from the restraints on his hands so he can take the lead in the fucking, “fucking fill me up” moaned the bottom loudly, desperation in his voice. “yes baby it's coming” mingyu reassures him by groping hardly his ass leaving his handprints in both cheeks. mincoc's cock is throbbing inside the other, spurting all the cum stored in his balls deep inside his boyfriend who clenches his hole as hard as he can to milk every single drop out of mingyu.

after they both rode his high mingyu freed himself from his legs restraints while yn just sits in the bed with his legs open fingering his hole “i think i need something more bigger and thicker than my fingers to keep all this cum inside me” his face tinted in red, hooded eyes, his hair sticked on his forehead for the sweat and drool coming out of his mouth.. “you looked so fucked up” mingyu comments while accomodating his tip on yn's entrance.

#kim mingyu x male reader smut #kim mingyu x male reader #mingyu x male reader smut #mingyu x male reader #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #seventeen x male reader

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hannieehaee · 2 days

Text

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, oral (f receiving), mentions of blowjob, etc.

part 1, part 2

wc: 1709

a/n: the comeback of loser!jk<3

masterlist

"we should- mhph!," he gasped when you interrupted him with yet another kiss, attempting to speak again when your lips barely disconnected, "we should stu-" unfortunately for him, your lips did not stray too far.

you had no interest in holding any type of conversation right now. not when the pretty nerd was alone in your room for the third time this week.

surprisingly, despite your lack of ability to pay attention while jungkook was over at your place, your grades had still gone up. on the down side, this small improvement proved to be enough for your horny brain to make the executive decision that it'd be a waste to spend any more time studying when you could be playing with your pretty boy toy instead.

jungkook never had any complaints. even on the days you did study, you'd bid him goodbye by sitting on his cock and kissing up and down the length of his neck. he always left quite satisfied, though also dizzy with desire.

the sudden addiction you had with the boy couldn't have been helped. it was impossible for you to understand how he didnt have all the girls on campus trailing after him. he was clearly handsome, just incredibly shy. his shyness was so severe, he had trouble holding eye contact with anyone who spoke to him, only ever responding in incomprehensible stammers of nonsensical sentences.

you were more than fine to work with this. you knew it'd only take a while for him to warm up to you, and you were happy to patiently wait. the two of you sometimes conversed, getting to know each other past the math and the sex. he had already warmed up to you quite a bit, able to push his shyness aside for you. you'd break all that down any time you removed your shirt and propositioned yourself to him, but that was just to be expected.

as of now, your midterms were over and you felt no need to study for regular assignments despite jungkook's insistence. this meant you had all the time in the world to rearrange your tutoring sessions to fuck him instead. even as he attempted to form a single sentence, your tongue would find its way to his mouth, interrupting any thought that might break you away from his touch.

"i ... we're supposed to study at least a bit," he reminded you with a breathless tone as your lips went to his neck.

"don't wanna, baby. wanna fuck you instead. don't you want that too?", you whispered when you made your way to his ear, nibbling at it suggestively.

nodding feverishly, his eyes began fluttering shut, hands lamely digging into your hips like they usually did, "if- if you're sure."

you chuckled at his statement. you never had any second thoughts about fucking jungkook. he was a pretty nerd and former virgin whom you had the power to mold into the perfect boy for you. how could you ever pass out such an opportunity?

"i'm sure, pretty," you reassured as your hands went to pull up his shirt, yours joining soon after.

now sitting on his lap, top halves nude, you got up before his eyes could zero in on your breasts, throwing off your pants and helping him out of his own. unlike other times, you did not sit back down on his lap, instead opting to sit on the bed next to him, letting yourself fall back as your legs hung off the side of the bed.

looking up at him, you gestured at him to get off the bed with a quick flick of your eyes. the way he quickly understood and went to kneel between your legs made you chuckle. he was such a smart boy.

to this day, the pretty boy had never eaten you out. the extent of your sexual relationship only went as far as penetrative sex thus far. no oral had been involved for some reason – likely due to your need to jump him every time you saw him.

what you wanted most today was to claim your high on his tongue. you needed the pretty boy between your legs, struggling to lick into your cunt and fumbling to find your clit. you knew that with some guidance you'd easily get his skills at oral perfectly tailored to your tastes. that was the nicest part of having a pretty and untouched boy such as jungkook – you could teach him everything just the way you liked it.

staring up at you with his gigantic doe eyes, his brows furrowed in worry, likely unsure of what to do next whilst simultaneously intimidated by such a suggestive position. your fingers went to his chin, lifting up his face whilst yours lowered to almost meet in a kiss. a pretty whine was felt against your lips when you moved away just before your lips could connect.

"pretty?"

"yes?", a gulp accompanied his inquiry.

"will you be good and lick me?"

a groan left his lips before he began nodding dumbly, practically whining as he confirmed his enthusiasm.

"please ...", he whimpered when you created a larger gap between you, grabbing onto his hair and pushing his face into your bare cunt.

opening your legs wider, you led the pretty boy almost all the way to your pussy, stopping right before letting his lips touch your own.

"tongue out, baby," you instructed.

wordlessly, he followed your instructions as his hands went up to your thighs for support. he gave you a decided nod before leaning in and shyly licking into your cunt. groaning against you, he licked experimentally once, twice, thrice – enough times for his resolve to break and for his shyness to be replaced by want.

your hands continued to guide him by his hair, grinding into his mouth in sync with the movement of his lips. it was easy to fall into a trance while the desperate boy ate at you. it was as if he'd had prior practice, except you knew that wasn't the case. jungkook was clearly just letting his hunger take over, leading to an ethereal feeling you knew only jungkook could give you.

"kookie ... oh, fuck," you cried out, fingers digging harshly into his hair.

he reacted accordingly, groaning at both your voice and the feeling of his hair getting pulled at. his hips were also uncontrollable as they ground into the side of the bed, pathetically humping in hopes of some stimulation.

as he ate at you with an unprecedented desperation, he let out the prettiest whimpers and pleas against your cunt, leaving you lightheaded at how needy he was for you.

"it's so good ... fuck, so good. thank you- thank you, oh, fuck ...."

"tastes so fucking good, oh god ...."

"it's for me? fuck, tell me it's mine. t-tell me it's all for me, please ..."

"oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you ..."

encouraging him, you claimed him as yours, telling him how good he was and how you'd give him anything he wanted. he cried even more at this, continuing to thank you for granting him access to your cunt. you knew he meant this in both a sexual and emotional way, which only made you feel even dizzier.

a few minutes into jungkook sloppily making out with your cunt, you pulled him away a bit (despite his resistance), making him look up at you.

under you, you found foggy glasses, messy hair, and half his face covered in your wetness. and even with all that, he looked like the prettiest thing you'd ever had between your legs. he whined the moment you separated him, attempting to reconnect his lips with your cunt, but you remained stubborn.

"baby, you're doing so good for me," you wiped a bit at his lips, though he misinterpreted your intentions, instead taking your fingers into his mouth and suckling.

he was a natural at being a needy mess.

"need you to play with my clit, though, pretty. c'mere, like this. let me show you ..."

with your fingers, you showed him where he'd find your clit, instructing him to stick out his tongue for you again and kitten-lick at it. he went the extra mile and began suckling at it after just a few moments, making your eyes roll back and your toes curl.

going back and forth between licking at you and suckling at your clit, his intensity only increased the more you cried out for him, beginning to hump against his face with zero finesse. the squeaks of the bed could be heard as he himself bumped his cock against it, whimpering into your cunt out of neediness.

"g-gonna make me cum, kookie ... oh, fuck, i- i'm gonna cum, pretty. eat it f-for me? p-please?"

you hadn't planned on becoming so needy for him, but you also hadn't planned for him to be such a quick learner. he simply nodded into your cunt, speeding up his movements as he grumbled against your lips, clearly growing desperate to make you reach your high.

this was easily one of the most intense, neediest orgasms you'd ever had. your voice reached a pitch it never had before as you shamelessly used jungkook's face to get off. at some point his nose began nudging against your clit, almost causing you to black out in pleasure. by the end of it you had been singlehandedly doing all the work whilst jungkook let you guide his face however you wanted.

"fuck ... kookie," you breathed once your high subsided, "c'mere, baby."

climbing up the bed, he hovered over you, shy in initiating a kiss but putting his all into it the moment he realized how into it you were, suckling your juices out of his tongue and moaning into his mouth.

"was ... was it good?", he murmured into your neck once your lips had disconnected.

"it was so good, baby. you're such a quick learner," you caressed his back reassuringly, ignoring the hardness poking against you for a moment.

"want me to try it on you?" you asked, chuckling when he suddenly stilled.

"o-oh ... you want to?"

"lay on the bed, kookie. let me show how good it feels," you grinned at him, knowing you were about to blow his mind yet again.

#bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut

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dollfacefantasy · 3 days

Note

Would you ever write a prequel to Sharing is Caring? Like when Leon says to Chris, “Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” or when he’s just talking to reader about how wet she gets when thinking about someone else watching her with Leon, would you ever write a small drabble or something based on that scenario that obviously took place before the threesome with Chris? I hope you understand what I mean! 😭

yeah bb i got you <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

prequel to this fic

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, guided masturbation, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, exhibitionism, threesome w/ chris, p in v, blowjobs, and cum

so when i wrote that part, i was thinking it happened on multiple occasions between reader and leon. this is how i believe one of those times would go *dream harp music and dissolve transition*

Today had been a lazy day for you and Leon since the two of you woke up that morning. The bedroom was dim from the overcast sky outside, and music played softly in the background as you and your boyfriend cuddled in bed and talked about nothing. It was your personal heaven on earth. The prettiest slice of paradise you could imagine.

You laughed at his corny jokes while he entertained random questions you’d asked him. Eventually the conversation reached a lull, and in the brief pause, you remembered something you’d been meaning to ask him.

“We’re still going to that work dinner for you on Friday, right?” you ask, glancing over at him.

“Mhm,” he responds, “Why?”

“Gotta get my nails done,” you answer.

He can’t help smiling at that. The effort you put in for him was adorable.

“Yeah? What color you gonna do this time?” he asks.

“Red.”

“Why red?” he says, reaching over to stroke your cheek.

“Cause aren’t guys supposed to like red the most?” you say as if it’s the most obvious fact in the world.

“You know I like what you like, baby,” he chuckles and leans in to kiss your neck.

“Yeah, but it’s a dinner full of guys. I gotta impress them for you. Can’t have your work people thinking your girlfriend is less than the best,” you say.

He exhales sharply at your attitude, finding it funny.

“So you’re painting your nails for other men?” he teases, “Be careful or I might get jealous.”

A smile rises to your lips, and you squirm a little from the way he’s kissing your neck. In truth, Leon loved showing you off. It drove him up the wall when guys’ stares would linger on your cleavage or cast down to your backside. They could look all they wanted, but you were all his. And you knew he felt that way, which is why it drove you a special type of crazy when he’d play with you like this.

“No, I'm painting them for you. So your work guys will be impressed and jealous of you,” you say.

“Ahh, I see,” he says, feigning realization, “You want them all to see that you’re such a good girl, right?”

His voice drops and it hits you straight between your legs. You fidget a little, masking your desire with a laugh. Nodding playfully, you act as if it’s a joke rather than your honest motivation.

“That’s why I gotta wear a pretty dress too,” you tease back.

“I see. It better not show off too much though, else I might have to take you over my knee right then and there. They rent out a private dining room, y’know. I could do it. Show them all how I keep my good girl in line,” he whispers.

He nips at your throat, and now you’re officially turned on. The heat in your cheeks and neck migrate south to fester between your hips. Your thighs rub against one another in a pathetic attempt to sate yourself for the time being. He notices of course, and that only means he’s not stopping any time soon.

“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he breathes, “You’d like getting to whine and pout while everyone watches you get put in your place, hm?”

Tingles spread throughout your chest through your tummy. His hand slips beneath your shirt and rubs up and down your side. The painfully slow pace of his palm brings chills over you.

“Answer me,” he whispers.

“Yeah, I’d like it,” you say. Your voice was short and quiet as it often was in moments like these.

He chuckles and moves his hand up to your breast. Your nipples had stiffened into little peaks against the cloth of your top. He pinches one as he licks a stripe up your neck.

Shuddering, you whine for him, “Leon.”

“If you said that in front of them, that’d earn you a couple more smacks. What are you supposed to call me?” he prompts.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself with a whimper.

“That’s my girl,” he croons.

His hand continues to fondle your breast for a few moments more before his hand leaves your chest and grabs your jaw. He tilts your head in his direction, so you have to look in his eyes.

“That’s what you’d cry out in front of all of daddy’s friends. That’d really show ‘em you’re a good girl. It’d show ‘em more than any dress or color on your nails,” he says before connecting his lips with yours.

He kisses you deeply, slipping some tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head to keep you close. His movements lead yours, luring you further into the lustful exchange with him. When he pulls back, you’re breathless with puffy, wet lips. His eyes have clouded with the desire to toy with you.

Now his hand slides down to your panties. The pretty garment had already started to dampen and cling to your cunt. He pets you over the barrier, teasing you with the anticipation of what’s to come.

“You’d be perfect, spread across my lap, ass out in these cute little things. Which pair would you wear?” he teases, nuzzling you as his fingers start to increase the pressure.

“The ones you bought me for my birthday,” you answer.

“Good choice,” he grins, “You’d look so precious in those, even more with your skirt bunched up over the top of them.”

You squirm a bit, wanting more from him, but he keeps up the same light caresses to your center.

“I know you’d love it, babydoll. I can just see it,” he whispers, “You’d love being the center of attention, having all those eyes on you. You know they’d all talk about you too. They’d talk like you weren’t even there. They’d talk about how pretty and cute you are, how sweet you look while taking your spanking, how much they want a girl like you all to themselves.”

All you can respond with is a soft whine. Your heels slide against the mattress as you fight to maintain some sliver of composure. And he continues running his mouth.

“They’d all get so hard for you, princess. Especially Chris. He’s gonna be there on Friday. He’s got a little crush on you,” he teases.

That snaps you out of your lustful daze. You’d met Chris a few times before this. He was nice enough. The two of you didn’t really have anything in common except Leon.

“He does not,” you say softly, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows raise with amusement. “Does too,” he insists.

“He does not. You just want someone to tease me with,” you say before his mouth is back on yours, silencing your words with a kiss.

“Trust me, baby. He does. Bet he strokes it to you every night,” he murmurs against your lips.

You don’t want to admit the spark of heat that strikes in your belly at the thought of that. You’d be lying if you told Leon you didn’t find Chris attractive. He fits right in with your type. He was older, big and muscular, and condescendingly affectionate. All you can muster in response is a muffled “no he doesn’t.”

“Mhm, I can tell by the way he looks about you. And he’s always asking about you too. He’s got a thing for you, sweetheart. Wishes he could be your daddy instead of me,” he says. His voice comes out husky from the close proximity to you.

A little moan slips from your lips just as his hand slides into your panties to play with your clit. The pad of his middle finger finds it with ease. With the amount of times he’s made you cum, he’s sure he could find it while he’s sleeping. He presses down on the swollen bud and swirls his digit lightly.

“I know he’d love to see you get spanked like a little brat. But his favorite part would be the ending. The part where all those smacks have knocked some sense into you and you’re back to being a good girl. I think he’d jizz his pants if he saw your puppy eyes while you begged me to stop,” he whispers.

More arousal drips from you as you picture the scene your boyfriend is setting. You still weren’t fully convinced Chris was into you, but fuck, it was hot to imagine he was. Your mind conjures visions of his eyes locked on you. In your fantasy, he’s flushed, lip between his teeth as he wishes he could have a turn. He palms himself over his pants lazily, not putting in enough effort to distract him from the sight before his eyes. Your voice would be begging for Leon to stop, but your eyes would be begging for him.

Leon can see how into the idea you are so he continues. Simultaneously, his finger down below increases its pace on your bundle of nerves.

“You like thinking about that?” he coos mockingly, “But that’d be kind of cruel, wouldn’t it? Dangling you in front of him like that. Maybe I’d have to give the poor guy a break, let Chris come along with us after all the others had gone their own way. Let him see just how good you are for your daddy in private.”

Your eyes are starting to gloss with desire as he draws you further into this dream.

“Would you like that, honey? Letting Chris see this beautiful body, letting him see how well you can behave when you want to. If you were really really good, maybe I’d even let him play with you too,” he purrs.

Internally, your heart jolts. You had never brought up your interest in threesomes to Leon. He knew you had a bit of an affinity for being watched, but the potential conversation about being shared scared you. It was something that turned you on like damn near nothing else, but in reality, you weren’t certain of it. Plus, if he wasn’t into it, it’d be something you could never come back from.

The relief you felt from him bringing it up on his own was immeasurable.

You nod to answer his question.

“Use your words, babydoll,” he says.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praises.

His hand slides down to cup your pussy before he pushes two fingers into your cunt. You whine at the intrusion, but your hole was used to the sensation. He had your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering within a couple of pumps.

“You could sit in my lap while he fucked you. I’d hold you the whole time like the sweet thing you are while he stretched you out,” he says, “Or we could take turns with you, one after the other, fucking you till you were seeing stars.”

You nod again and arch your back slightly. “Please daddy. Want that,” you whimper.

“I know you do, sweet girl. I wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed though. Your mind has less stamina than that pretty pussy does,” he teases.

Your lip juts out into a pout at his taunt, but it’s quickly wiped away by a mewl that erupts from you when he curls his fingers inside you.

“I think it might be better to let Chris fuck you and get you all warmed up for me. Then I could take over, and you could suck him off. I’d make that cute cunt cry on my cock for a while, and you could get a taste of him. I know you love having something in your mouth.”

“Yeah daddy,” you whine.

He rubs his palm against your clit as his fingers fly back and forth, working you closer towards the edge. In the same rhythm he was grinding his bulge on your hip. He was rock hard beneath his boxers. The hypothetical situation was clearly getting to him just as much as it was getting to you.

“I’d be the one fucking your pussy full of cum just like you needed. And if you’d shown Chris what a perfect angel you are, I’d let you choose if he came in your mouth or all over your gorgeous face,” he says.

His eyes close as he rolls his hips with a little more force. He throbs in his boxers. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss your neck a few times before speaking again.

“I know you’d probably pick swallow, but I think all of us would love to see your face painted with his cum. Maybe let him pretend for a second that you belong to him,” he grunts.

“I’d pick on my face cause I know you’d wanna see it,” you whimper. And it was true. The most pleasurable thing in the world was Leon’s approval. It brought you more satisfaction than any orgasm or cum shot ever could.

“Such a good girl,” he moans, “That’s my baby. Another guy’s cum on your face, but all you can think to do is please your daddy.”

Both of you hit your highs almost in time with each other. You’re a little quicker than Leon which is fortunate since he loses precision when he cums. You feel like you burn into a blaze of euphoria when it hits, your body rapidly heating up. It’s like you’re light as a feather and floating through a blissful abyss of comfort. He cums in a more intense burst. His hips buck against the plush flesh of your hip. He locks his free hand on you to keep you close so he can thrust against your warmth till he’s empty.

The two of you lay there for a few moments after, taking a second to calm down. You feel like you could fall asleep at any second. You barely register Leon stumbling out of bed to clean himself up and change. He hits the fan on the way back to bed,which you’re grateful for.

As soon as he’s back in bed, you roll over and drape your limbs across him. He nuzzles the side of your head with a few kisses.

“You need a nap now, baby?” he asks softly.

“Mhm,” you mumble back.

“Close your eyes for me then, pretty girl. Get some rest,” he says before smirking and whispering in your ear, “Just promise me you’re not gonna dream about Chris now.”

You whine and lightly jab your knee against his ribs.

“Shut up, Leon.”

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

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buzzinrusso · 1 day

Note

Erin cuthburt×reader🙏

I WOULD NEVER //ERIN CUTHBURT

Genre:angst/fluff at the end

Prompt:you and your long term girlfriend, Erin, get into a very heated fight which results to her walking out of your house and you misunderstanding the situation.

--------------------------------------------------

"You don't get it! you never will! " Erin yelled in frustration as she paces around the room looking at a very irritated you.

"Okay! I get that but you are my girlfriend! I can't see you bury yourself with all the training sessions, workouts, photoshoots and more! " your eyes welled up with tears as you spoke. "So you know how embarrassing it is to be stood up by your own girlfriend in front of your family?! "

You're talking about the incident that occurred earlier today.

You and Erin were supposed to meet your parents and siblings for lunch, Erin had 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 you that she would show up, not wanting to stand you up another time.

Obviously that promise was broken, which lead to the heated argument you were currently having.

"How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry! I've apologized a million times already!" She said with her thick accent that came out when she was angry.

"Erin, that wasn't the only time you've stood me up. I'm your girlfriend for God's sake! You can't keep doing shit like this! You broke your promise, you said that you would go but you didn't! And you didn't even text me to say that you're not gonna be coming! I had to sit there like a fool with my family, assuring them that your were probably late! "

"Oh my gosh! So what if I broke my promise? Get fucking over it " she let out a sigh of irritation and started walking away towards your shared room.

"Don't you walk away from me! We are having this conversation now! " you started fully on crying.

You were sick of getting g stood up, you were sick of being embarrassed whenever Erin promised to show up but didn't, but in the end, you love Erin with your entire heart, too much to leave her as you fully believed that you would never have survived your dark days without her.

That's why you panicked when you spotted Erin getting her shows from the closet.

"Are you leaving? " your voice quited down a little

"I cant fucking do this anymore! " she yelled before she stormed out of the house.

Your heart stopped as you watched the scene unfold. Did you just lose the love of your life? Did she just walk out on you? She probably won't be returning.

Your mind immediately went to the worst possible answers. You didn't know what to do as sobs racked through your body, you didn't mean to lose Erin. You really didn't.

In reality you hadn't lost Erin, you just misunderstood the situation, but you didn't know that yet.

Your body involuntarily slipped down the white walls of your shared-not shared?- house.

The thoughts of her moving out, breaking up with you and dating someone else intoxicated your mind. You hated it.

Of course your mind went to those places. Whose mind wouldn't when their significant other yells out that they 'can't do this anymore' after an argument and walks out?

After about 45 minutes of sobbing, Erin finally went back to the house. With flowers in one and and her phone in the other, Erin went into the house only to be greeted by eerie silence.

Only did she hear the sounds of your muffled sobs coming from the bedroom did that silence break.

She quickly sprinted up to your room and when's he opened the door, she was greeted by you lying face down on the bed sobbing your heart out into the tear stained pillow.

She immediately raced to your side, making you flinch at the sudden contact and jolt up from the place where you were lying down.

You sniffles quieted down when you saw her sitting on the edge of the bed with a concerned look on her perfect face.

The sight of her made you calm down slightly.

"Why are you crying? I'm so sorry for making you cry baby, I swear I didn't mean to my love. I'm so so so sorry. " her words were rushed out as she pulled you into a hug that you melted into, but were clearly filled with concern for you. Her eyes proved that.

"I thought you broke up with me. " she barely get out because of your strained voice.

"I would never. I don't think k I'd ever survive if not for you. I'm so sorry I'm made you think that way but I assure you that I will never leave you. Not now nor anytime in the future. " she said as she began to tear up too. She couldn't handle seeing you cry, whenever you cried she did too.

It was the same way that some people had contagious smiles that you had a contagious cry.

"Then why did you say that you couldn't do this anymore and walk out? "

"I meant that I couldn't stay in the house anymore, I'm sorry baby I should've worded better, and as for the walking g put part, I. Needed a break so I walked around the area a little and got you flowers, ready to apologize. " she explained to you and to say that the new revelation was reliving to you would be an understatement.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm should've been more considerate , I should've never stood you up all those times and I'm sorry for every single thing that I did to make you upset. From now on, I swear that I will keep all of my promises and with that, I promise you to never ever purposely let a tear she'd form those pretty eyes of yours. "She then wiped the tears off of your eyes and proceeded to place kisses all over your face, making a slight smile breakout on your face.

And she did. Erin kept her promise in the future.

#erin cuthbert #womens football #aitana bonmati #barca femeni #cata coll #spain wnt #erin Cuthbert x reader #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso fanfics #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #chelsea fcw #chelsea women #chelsea fc #sam kerr #scotland #erin cuthbert x reader

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thechekhov · 2 days

Note

Hey Chekhov! How do you start converting an AU idea from character sheets and mini comics into a plot outline for a full, continuous comic? Especially if the series you're basing it on isn't complete?

I've been following your white diamond Steven comics for years, and frankly, I love how it builds and continues the scaffolding canon laid to be something that is thematically still the same but also very unique. And I never thought I'll ever say this, but now I'm working on a canon-divergent AU with someone that's I think aiming to do something similar(continue the themes of canon but different). So I'll just like some advice, I suppose!

You might've answered something like this before, honestly, but I tried to dig a little and couldn't really find it.

Thanks, if you do answer this! I just want take the opportunity as well to say also that your comic and blog accompanied me through parts of my late teens, and I'm very grateful for you being a stabilizing influence during that time.

Thank you! I really appreciate you saying that, and I appreciate you respecting me enough to ask for advice.

As for your question...

Well, to be frank, I don't START with character sheets and mini-comics. In fact, for WD!AU, I didn't have any character sheets until I started season 2.

Think of your story as an aquarium. Your characters are fish.

Yes, they're important, but having a whole bunch of fish without any substrate, tanks, feed and WATER..... will not really make for a memorable aquarium experience.

The reality is that all stories should start with an end.

That's my personal approach, anyway.

What I mean is - you need to know the general idea for your story before you begin to write or plan it.

Let's try this:

1.Tell me about your story in THREE sentences!

Just three. Not long ones, just regular ones.

For my AU, @ask-whitepearl-and-steven, it would be:

"A young orphan runs away from home with a mysterious lady who seems more cryptid than human. He realizes that he's not human either - he used to be the ruler of an alien planet! He and the other aliens he meets decide to (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED) and he (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (READACTED) (READ ANDCTED) (READ AND FIND OUT)."

YOU should know how YOUR story ends too! Even vaguely.

It helps if you know at what point you plan to lay down the pencil. Because if you DO know, you are always going to know which direction to walk in, even if the end is so far away it's beyond your line of sight.

It's true that when I began WDAU, I didn't have much information about White Diamond and white Pearl, because they had literally ONLY been introduced. I had to guess a lot of the details (like WP being Pink's originally) and what White would be capable of. And thankfully, my original intent for the story's end fit pretty well with what was later revealed!

But don't forget - you could also just fuck around with stuff! It's your story, after all.

And don't forget... to also look back!

2.Tell me WHY the story is happening in the first place.

There's a reason that the beginning of your story happens when it does. If there is no reason to start somewhere, then find a different place to start.

You should be able to tell me "We're picking up the story here because something significant has happened... and that significant thing happened BECAUSE...."

That 'because' is your main background information that should be revealed slowly throughout the story. In WDAU's case, we only have a few pieces of the puzzle. We know Greg's side. He know Earl's side. But there are still little bits and pieces missing! And they're all important for finding out WHY Steven ended up an orphan and WHY he is being followed by White Pearl (Earl) at the very start of the comic!

3.Tell me what the coolest and most interesting things to happen would be....and then write them!

I think this may be something that's rarely said out loud, but I will speak on the behalf of the people...

We should write the scenes we want to read. If you don't want to read the scene you're writing, then DON'T write it!

If you feel like you "have to" do a page and a half of 'lore' because you think it's traditional to have that 'explanation' about the location of your story, or the history of the species or whatever, you're simply wrong. There are other ways to reveal information aside from just forced paragraphs upon paragraphs of information that would make an SAT Reading Section sweat.

Instead, I recommend that you find the most exciting or hilarious way for the characters to discover the most important bits of info. Find a dramatic twist. Shove it into the narrative. Then, figure out what needs to happen to get there.

Ultimately, though, remember this: When you're taking advice from me or from others, don't forget to take advice from yourself, too! It's your story, after all. You know it best, and only YOU can figure out how to get it written.

I hope that helps at least a little bit! Writing it never easy, but it should still be enjoyable!

#chekhov answers

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hawkinsbnbg · 12 hours

Text

Steve knew he shouldn't use drugs to numb his loneliness. Good omegas weren't supposed to do that.

Then again, good omegas wouldn't be left alone in a big empty house by their parents.

So there was no reason why he shouldn't sit at the infamous picnic table and wait for the town's drug dealer.

Somehow, he had underestimated Eddie Munson's bargaining skill greatly. After fifteen minutes of negotiation, he had ended up letting the alpha eat him out as an exchange for drugs.

And goddamn did Eddie Munson have a way with his mouth.

That was why Steve had ignored his parents' lessons about being a respectable omega and allowed Eddie to taste his virgin pussy every time he sought the alpha out.

It escalated when Eddie asked to finger him one day. Steve had been reluctant at first, because ew who knew what those hands had touched.

But he conceded eventually since Eddie was the only dealer in town (that he trusted).

Turned out, the combination of Eddie's tongue and fingers could make Steve squirt.

To think he used to live a life where he wasn't given such mind-blowing orgasms before was unbelievable. Because he knew he couldn't return to those dull days where he only had his dildos anymore.

Since the first time Steve gushed on Eddie's bed, he started going to the alpha's place more often.

And gradually, instead of slipping him those baggies, Eddie began slipping more fingers inside him.

"Are you insane?" Steve whined as the alpha's thumb nudged at his entrance.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart," Eddie lapped at his cocklet to get him relaxed. "It's gonna feel good when I'm inside you."

Steve bit back his moan as he writhed beneath the alpha's firm hands.

He always got worked up with how casual Eddie talked about fucking him. Like those fingers were somehow a substitute for the alpha's cock.

It did weird things to Steve's poor horny brain and he had to stop himself from begging for the alpha's knot every time they met.

He knew Eddie would fuck him good, but he had to keep his virginity intact.

All of his thoughts evaporated when Eddie's entire hand finally slid inside him.

"Oh my god," Steve gasped and arched his back. His body shook minutely while his cunt leaked a puddle on the sheet beneath.

It was too much, having an entire hand inside him. He was stretched to the seams, breathless and lightheaded in a way that no drugs had ever made him feel before.

"Good?" Eddie twisted his fist slowly, dark eyes tracing Steve's face like a hawk's.

"I–" He inhaled sharply when Eddie grazed his sweet spot. "I wouldn't s– say that."

"Better than your dildos?" Eddie chuckled at Steve's teary glare. "It's pretty obvious to me, Princess."

"What obvious?" Steve couldn't help but bite the bait. Knowing Eddie, it must be something ridiculous again.

Instead of answering, the alpha scratched lightly at that spot on his inner wall, making him mewl and tremble in pleasure.

But the friction wasn't enough for him to come. It was frustrating.

Eddie continued tormenting him like that until he was loose enough for the fist to move faster.

Even in his wildest dream, Steve would never expect to be fucked by someone's hand.

But there he was, drooling and shaking as Eddie fisted his pussy.

It was when Steve was cross-eyed and on the edge of crashing that Eddie finally leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"You're such a slut, baby.”

And Steve was done for.

He rolled his eyes back and let out a high-pitched moan as he spasmed and gushed messily on the already stained sheet.

His cocklet joined in and squirted, coating his belly with watery opalescent fluid.

"That's it, Babydoll," Eddie nipped the tip of his ear, sounding just as wrecked as he felt. "Be a good girl and come for your alpha's knot."

Steve whined at that.

He had been craving for the alpha's cock since they started messing around. But he had to preserve his purity for his future mate.

And it wasn't like Eddie would want to be involved with him outside of their make-shift game anyway.

Steve was aware of the hard truth: he was good to play with, but never good enough to be kept around.

Those people who had left him made it clear how unlovable he was.

He whimpered when Eddie pulled out carefully and glanced away shyly when the alpha placed a soft kiss on his hipbone.

Steve never questioned that gesture. Never asked aloud why Eddie would always do it every time they finished.

Because he feared Eddie would stop doing so if he pried too much.

It didn't matter what Steve wanted to know, he just kept his mouth shut and tried to ignore his flustering heart, tried to swallow all those chirps and trills that always threatened to slip out of him.

But Steve found it hard to maintain his cool when every time without fail, a hand would come up to stroke the side of his face gently.

"Look at me, Sweetheart."

Right, Eddie had a habit of checking in once the alpha was done liquifying Steve's brain with those deft fingers and that clever tongue.

Eddie would insist on helping clean him up and then wrapping him in a soft quilt that smelled of sunlight and apples.

Steve would be given a mug of warm milk and allowed to hang around until he decided to go home.

Much to his embarrassment, he had cried the first time Eddie took care of him.

Although he had gotten better at accepting the alpha's gratuitous kindness these days, he wasn't exactly immune to it.

When Steve complied, he was met with warm brown eyes that always gazed at him with things he wasn't allowed to hope for. Warmth, kindness, and adoration.

He suddenly didn't want this to end.

So he wasn't one to be blamed for what he blurted out, "Do you want to fuck me?"

Eddie only gave him an amused look, "I thought that ship had sailed a long time ago when I asked to eat you out, Bambi."

Steve blushed at that. Yeah, he realized how stupid his question was. But still, he had to make sure.

"My heat will arrive next week," he licked his lips nervously. "So do you wanna–"

Before he could finish, Eddie was on him and crowded him against the headboard.

"You said your little virgin pussy is exclusive to your future mate," the alpha narrowed his eyes at him, wild and dangerous. "What changed your heart?"

"You," Steve hissed. "It's you, Munson. I want you to be my alpha."

Eddie grasped his jaw and murmured hoarsely. "Say that again."

"I want you to be my alpha," Steve bit out.

"Again."

"I want you to be my alpha."

"Again."

"I want you to be my alpha."

"Again."

"I love you!" Steve shouted at that stupidly handsome face. "Fuck you, Munson!"

"Attagirl," Eddie finally smiled at him, pleased and smug before capturing him in a fervent kiss.

When they parted, the alpha pulled Steve into his lap and peppered him with small kisses.

"Love you too, sweet baby," Eddie pecked at the tip of his nose. "Been crazy about you for years."

Bracing his hands on broad shoulders, Steve raised his brow hopefully, "So my heat..?"

Eddie's finger came up to tap lightly at his mating gland. "Let me dine and wine you first, Angel. And then, when your heat passes, I'm gonna court you and we'll talk about our future together."

"Didn't know you'd be the old-fashioned type," Steve said teasingly.

"I'm not," Eddie shook his head and looked at him fondly. "But you deserve all the good things in the world, pretty baby. And if it means I have to spend months courting you, then so be it."

Steve let out a chirp at that.

It was so sudden and unexpected that he didn't have time to react.

But Eddie's pleased grumble had stopped him from overthinking.

"I think I'd like you to court me," Steve met those loving eyes and smiled softly. "Alpha."

In response, Eddie only pulled him into a tender kiss.

It seemed Steve had become addicted, not to the drugs, but to something better.

He had become addicted to Eddie Munson.

And it might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #babygirl steve harrington #smitten eddie munson #steve ‘i don’t think i’d ever be good enough' harrington #eddie 'you're my fucking world baby' munson #sionewritesatmidnight

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oxymorayuri · 3 days

Note

HI YURII, i absolutely adore the way you write and i wanted to request some hc’s or a small fic abt law reaction to reader’s pregnancy, likeee how’d he react after telling him and how those 9 months would affect law’s personality and relationship w reader

but only if u want too ofc! thx and have a wonderful dayy <3

A/N: Hi there, my darling ♡

How can I refuse such a lovely request? I feel very honored every time you guys tell me that you enjoy my stories. My heart fills with pride when I read your kind comments.

OneShot or HC? Why not both? Two are better than one!

Here are the headcanons [Law|Ace|Kid|Doffy]

Okay, let's go! Have fun with the OneShot!

✦ Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader ✦ Content: idk, not much, i guess? I'm pretty bad at this lol. bit angst, a little jealousy and endless fluff ✦ Spoiler: none ✦ Description: You're pregnant and Law's reaction is everything you could wish for *-* This OneShot doesn't completely fit the request, hence the HC, hope that's okay :3

Wordcount: 6383

❝𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠!❞

It's quite unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night, but you woke up with an overwhelming craving for something sweet. Falling straight back to sleep is hopeless, so you're forced to stare around the room until perhaps drowsiness sets in.

Aside from the ticking of the clock, it's absolutely silent but you feel as if the ticking is becoming progressively louder 'til you have satisfied your ravenous appetite.

You picture it, the mousse that Ikkaku made… You have no clue how she makes it. You've tried to make it yourself, even following her recipe, but it's just not the same. However, when Ikkaku makes it, it tastes heavenly.

You can feel the foamy dessert melting on your tongue and the subtle hint of dark chocolate spreads through your mouth. Your saliva starts to gather in your mouth... That's enough! You need to eat dessert. Immediately!

The chance of waking Law is high, yet you would kill for a little midnight snack! The only thing is; you have to get out of Law's arms first...

You look at the dark haired man as he sleeps with a peaceful face. One arm around your waist, face to face.

On days like this, when you two haven't had much of each other, you'll at least have your little moments in your shared bed. With your faces turned towards each other, you talk about your busy day… Until one of you falls asleep and that one is usually you.

It's mostly you who talks about your day and Law hangs on your every word while you talk enthusiastically about all sorts of things.

Law is usually a bit reserved, because in his opinion he always does the same thing anyway and you must be getting bored of that. But that's not the case. You love the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about the things he has learned from his book, or when he has got hold of a rare coin.. He always lights up like a little boy who's been at school for the first day.

[throwback]

“…And did you know that an adult's entire intestine is 5 to 7 meters long? Imagine that.” You raise your eyebrow in disbelief.

“Five to seven meters?! No way, how is that supposed to fit?” You stroke your stomach while Law laughs at your bewilderment. Of course you believe him, you believe anything he says. He could tell you every lie and you would believe it immediately, but luckily Law doesn't lie to you. He is sometimes very secretive towards you and keeps a lot to himself like a loner, but he is by no means a liar.

“No joke, you can believe me… I could show you if you like.” Law speaks with a confident self assurance that makes you snort.

His confused eyes look at you insistently and he repeats that he could show you while raising his hand.

“Room!” You immediately realize what he's up to and you reach out with both hands to stop him. He really is planning to show you his intestines. Ah, no thanks.

You shake your head, still chuckling.

“I always believe you, my love… It's just kind of hard to imagine…” - “Yes, I know... I could hardly believe it either. That's why I took my intestine out straight away and measured it.”

You can't take any more. Law speaks with a nonchalance that brings tears to your eyes. You love him for his strangeness, that's what makes him so human.

“Anything for science.” you whisper quietly to him.

No longer interested in how long the human intestine is, you lean over and give him a little kiss. Being with Law is always a learning experience, the special thing is what you learn about Law along the way. About his heart and mind, while he talks about all the things that fascinate him.

Gosh, you adore him so much.

[throwback end]

Law's slight movement snaps you out of your reverie and for a moment you have the chance to slip out of his arms.

Silent as a ninja, you sneak out of your room and scurry into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you can't wait another second and spoon up the dessert right in front of the fridge.

Whilst you let each scoop melt in your mouth, you hear footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. You try to hide, but it's too late because Bepo, who also wanted to sneak into the kitchen, enters.

You look at him like a frozen deer and he gives you a similar look. With your eyes still staring at the polar bear, you slowly bring the spoon to your mouth and devour the chocolate mousse. Without your eyes parting for even a second.

“What are you doing?” You leave the spoon in your mouth and look at him with a tilted head.

“Err, what does it look like…?” Your voice a little muffled, as if you were brushing your teeth. It's obvious what you're doing? With the bowl in your hand, you sit down at the table and wave the Mink over to you.

“Come on, get over here before the mousse is gone.” A little taken aback, he blinks a few times and joins you at the table.

Of course he wants some of the chocolate wonder, so he hurries to you.

You take turns spooning from your bowl and after each bite you hold your hand to your flushed cheek. It tastes simply divine.

However, you barely exchange a word, because it goes without saying that this meeting will remain a secret. You only hear a pleasurable moan and a soft mumble in between.

A few days have passed since then and a few other unusual things have happened. Your cravings have become a little weirder, your sense of smell has increased and fish suddenly no longer tastes good to you! As soon as you smelled sushi, you felt sick to your stomach. Unusual, you thought, but it could have been something else. You didn't think anything else of it and went about your everyday duties, quickly forgetting about the oddities anyway.

Until you got up one morning and ran straight to the toilet. You felt nauseous and it came out faster than you would have liked, so you left the door open and it gushed out of you straight into the toilet.

Your dinosaur like noises woke up the grouchy Law who rubbed his eyes in a drowsy state.

Who or what is that? And why is it so loud?

Law is definitely not a morning person. Talk to him before his coffee and you will see… Well, nothing will happen except that he ignores you and turns around. He won't even talk to you before he takes a sip, but no problem. Isn't it always like this; that a bright person is together with a grumpy one?

Tired, the black haired man sits up and runs his fingers through his tangled hair while still sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed.

The noise is unusually loud and seems as if it is directly in the next room… In the next room… And finally it clicks in his head. You are making that noise.

Law snaps his eyes open, being fully awake now, and hurried to the open bathroom. There he looked down at you with your head almost IN the bowl, unable to stop vomiting.

At first he stood in the doorway, looking somewhat at a loss, until he finally remembered that he was a doctor.

You weren't responsive right now anyway… So Law prepared a few things for you when you finally finished throwing up…

Concerned, he stands behind you with a glass of water in his hand. It seems to be reaaally bad. He doesn't like seeing you like this, your health is important to him, probably more important than his own.

You've noticed for a while that Law is standing behind you and you appreciate him not saying anything. You're not embarrassed, not in front of Law, he's taken care of you before when you've drunk yourself into a coma so the sight shouldn't be that strange. You had to smile a little when you noticed how he tied your hair in a ponytail, so it wouldn't fall in front of your face, while you emptied out your stomach.

“Oh god. There shouldn't be *bleurggh* anything left in my *bleurggh* stomach…” A little out of breath, you lean against the wall next to the toilet.

You're not quite sure if it's the end, but it feels all right.

“I assume it's a little better now?” Tired from throwing up, you look up at him while he hands you the glass of water with a scrutinizing look.

You can't do more than nod half heartedly.

Law walked over to the toilet and flushed the contents, which looked like two days' worth of stomach contents.

He squatted down to you and began to clean your face with a lukewarm cloth. You don't look sick. Your eyelids don't droop and your skin doesn't look too pale. You just look a little worn out, which is no wonder. After all, you've given the toilet the biggest serenade of your life.

“I should take you to the infirmary and run some tests.” His hands reach for yours. With his thumb, he gently strokes the back of your hand and pulls lightly to help you to your feet. A little wobbly on your feet, you hold on to him and smile weakly at him.

“…I'm fine, thank you my love.” A little cold water on your face should be enough, so you go over to the sink to freshen up.

“Don't argue y/n, as your captain and doctor, I'm telling you that I'll give you a check up.” You look at him through the mirror as you run your wet hands through your face and roll your eyes.

“Uh huh, as captain and doctor…”

he groans a little and takes you in his arms from behind

“And as your partner too, of course.”

He kisses you on the cheek and you lean into his embrace with a little chuckle. For just a moment, you can savor your embrace, but the very next second, you find yourself in the same position with him in the infirmary.

That whole shambling around doesn't do you any good at all, you were already feeling sick anyway and you always feel a bit dizzy when he teleports with you. You put your hand over your mouth but it's too late. You quickly rush to a garbage can and fill it with your vomit.

“Hah… Law, that wasn't so clever…” You lean on the bin with both hands as you kneel in front of it.

“Ah…uh…sorry, force of habit…” His words seem a little flustered and as you look over your shoulder you see him sheepishly stroke his beard.

Yep, force of habit… It's definitely not the first time he's teleported you somewhere. Whether he wanted to kidnap you in your busy routine or wanted to steal you away from annoying guys.

He can be a bit jealous sometimes, even if he doesn't say anything, you can see right through him. Honestly, you have to admit to yourself that you enjoy it perhaps a little too much. Law usually reacts rather passively, but at some point things start to get over his limit and he reacts, somewhat flashily…

[throwback]

It's a lovely afternoon on the Sunny, and before you went your separate ways, the Heart Pirates and the Straw Hats wanted to throw a nice party to celebrate your victory.

You had a good time together and formed strong friendships, it makes you a little sad that you won't see each other for a while… but you are sure that your paths will cross again soon.

You keep glancing back to where Law is drinking some sake with Zoro, while Usopp and Luffy were doing all sorts of silly things. You can't help giggling at the sight. Their conversations are also rather short, but somehow they both seem quite relaxed and enjoy the silence between them. Your sweet introvert…

You turn back to the ladies at the table and get into a conversation full of girl stuff and laughter. Right by your side, there's Bepo napping on the floor and while your chin rests in one hand, listening to Nami, you pat Bepo's head with the other.

At your service is none other than Sanji and he serves you with the most distinguished manners. You like Sanji, he is charming and knows how to talk to women and sometimes you allow yourself to have fun and go for it… You don't flirt back, no way! You're crazy about Law and everyone knows it, but you like to have a bit of fun.

“Here my beautiful ladies, I've allowed myself to prepare your favorite drinks.” With grace and style, he holds the tray in his hand and serves you some fresh drinks. He pushes a beautifully decorated cocktail glass in front of you, one with a light blue liquid, topped with whipped cream and blue glitter sprinkles.

You know exactly what kind of drink is in front of you and happily thank the Blondie. How thoughtful he is… he's made you your favorite drink; swimming pool!

You gleefully nip at the straw and let the refreshing drink run down your tongue. As you spoon down some of the cream, you notice that Sanji has used coconut milk ice cubes instead of water ice cubes. How creative! This way the drink doesn't get watered down and only gets creamier and that's exactly how you love your swimming pool - creamy!

“Aww Sanji, you're always so thoughtful and good to us!” With your eyes closed, you enjoy your drink. It's so well prepared that you can barely taste the alcohol; how dangerous.

With your hand on your cheek, you praise the cocktail. Nami gushes with you and sighs contentedly that this is her everyday life... and Sanji loves doing it! That's the best part.

“We're really lucky to have Sanji, aren't we?” Robin giggles, as Sanji loses his temper in a dramatic way. It's as if all the attention is making his heart leap through his chest, and on one knee he babbles something about how it's not just an honor to serve you, but his greatest joy.

He may be a little pushy but isn't he also a little funny? Your girl gang bursts out into laughter, oh dear, if you only knew how Law watches the spectacle from behind with an annoyed expression…

With his chin in his hand, Law taps his cheek a little impatiently with one finger. He can hit on whoever he wants, but does he always have to get so close to you? He's got Nami and Robin to ogle, but you're his!

He knows he doesn't have to be jealous. You're only being friendly to him, as you are to everyone, but the reaction of others is what annoys him. The fact that some people think you're flirting with them, when you're just very kind and approachable (yea guess who's not.) literally pisses Law off.

He is quite sure that no one but himself has a chance with you, in fact he knows that you can become quite different if someone crosses your line… If Law's line hasn't been crossed before… It's pretty different sometimes…

Like today for example, today Law doesn't have that much patience and since Sanji moves in your inner circle, his limits are crossed quite quickly. And maybe all that sake is also to blame.

Because of your lively conversation, you realize far too late, how Law has formed his blue dome over you and just as Nami remarks it, you find yourself already on Law's lap.

Bewildered, you look up at him while his gaze is somewhat serious on Sanji. When he felt your gaze on him, he looked you in the eye with his typical grin and spoke with an absolute calmness that made your heart flutter.

“You all right?” You widen your eyes a little and raise both eyebrows. Is he serious? As if it's such a normal thing to just teleport me onto his lap out of nowhere, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

You know exactly why he did it. You saw the look he gave Sanji, but okay, you just play along. Let's see what happens.

“Yes, of course. Do you need something, love?”

He comes a little closer to you, his gaze melts the ice in your drink because you're getting so hot, but you try not to show it and smile at him innocently.

Before he reaches for the straw, he looks provocatively over to Sanji and drinks from your cocktail.

“You talked so highly of it, I really wanted to try it too, you know?” - “Sure…” like hypnotized you watch him sip from your drink while his eyes rest on your lips.

“You've got some whipped cream on your lip…” you want to quickly wipe the cream away with your hand but Law holds it tight and speaks in a low mellow voice "no, let me..."

Barely a second later, his lips are already on yours and he licks the cream off your lips in a luscious kiss.

You didn't even realize what was happening to you as you sat frozen on his lap. You can only vaguely make out the annoyed murmur of Zoro telling you to get a room or Nami cheering joyfully. You slowly come back to your senses and lean close to his ear, to whisper a few sweet words…

“I love sweet kisses… how 'bout we continue on the Polar Tang?”

Honestly, you love the way Law steals you away. He doesn't do it in an aggressive way, but in a way that makes it clear who you belong to. He never confronts the others, he just shows how in love you are with each other.

If that's not territory marking then you don't know BUT you love it.

His reaction is as expected. You know that look all too well. There's something overwhelming about the way Law's beautiful eyes run over your face as you innocently bite your lip. You could swear his eyes darken and he runs his tongue over his lower lip with a grin.

His grip tightens and his laugh deepens so that you can feel the vibration of his voice.

“Good idea.” He places a small kiss on your cheek before saying goodbye to the others. The question marks are written all over your face. You really just wanted to tease him, but you could have guessed what is about to happen.

You barely managed to wave goodbye before you found yourself back in your room on the Polar Tang. And well, you know it's obvious what will happens next… ;)

[throwback end]

“All right, so far so good. Now just a small blood check and then we'll be on the safe side.” His words bring you out of your memory and you look at his back. At a small table, he prepares a syringe to take some of your blood.

With concentration, he turns around and traces along your arm to locate a suitable vein.

“Could you make a fist?” You do as he says and he nods in response. When he had found a suitable spot, you were allowed to relax your hand and he smoothly drew the blood into the tube.

You watch him in complete devotion as he looks attentively at the syringe. Your eyes meet for a moment before he quickly returns to his task and presses a band aid onto the needle mark.

“That's it.” Again, he turns away from you to dispose the materials properly. A little disappointed, you slide down with your butt from the stretcher. You wish you could have watched him a little longer. He always looks so handsome when he's fully concentrated on his work.

“When will the results be ready?” you ask curiously as you look over his shoulder. By now you're feeling much better, you're sure it's nothing serious.

“Give me a few hours and I should have something out.” - “Hardworking as ever.” You gently stroke his shoulder as you went to turn around and Law quickly reached for your hand.

He gently pulls you close to give you a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes always have a powerful effect on you and your cheeks turn a soft pink.

“We should go for breakfast, you should regain your energy. Go ahead, I'll clean up and come straight away.” Your heart softens at his care.

“I'll make us some coffee then.” Satisfied, he nods at you and lets go. In a good mood, you walk along the corridors of the cold Polar Tang, humming a bright melody.

The day went on as usual, the work on the Polar Tang was pure routine. A few small repairs here and inspections there. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just as you were about to leave the engine room to write your report, you bump into your friend.

“Heyyy y/n, already done with work?” You look up from your notes and have a chat with Ikkaku. After an waaay too short talk, you part ways as her beeper has gone off and she quickly went back to work. Apparently she has a lot to do... Your eyes go back to your list. You need to talk to Law, because you're slowly running out of materials for the maintenance of your submarine.

You've been underwater for quite a while now and you should be ascending soon. Ikkaku could probably use some materials too, maybe you should do a general inventory and make a supply list with Law. Just as you were about to turn around to go to Ikkaku to start with her, your beeper sounds.

A quick glance at your black device tells you that Law wants to talk to you, so you turn around again.

So, then you'll start the list tomorrow. After all, you'll be traveling for a few more days before you reach the next island...

You can't quite believe your ears and you stand in front of Law with your mouth open, completely frozen. Your pretty brain has to process this information first. You actually want to say something but don't quite know how to start the sentence.

“Y-you say I'm pregnant?!!!” You automatically reach for your belly.

“How could this happen?!” you look up at Law, unsure of how you should feel. To be honest, you're a little overwhelmed, but it's not actually a bad thing. You're actually at the age where it's appropriate, aren't you?

Law, who is leaning against his table in front of you, takes a breath to explain to you HOW this could have happened, in a physical and medical sense.

With knitted eyebrows, you shake your hand in front of Law in order to stop him. You know how, but somehow you're surprised. You often hear that the birth control failed here and there and the woman got pregnant, but somehow you think it would never happen to you and now it's happened to you.

Surprise, surprise.

You drop into a chair and look a little defeated.

“Shit…” you mutter. Law takes the results of your blood report and tries to change the subject.

“But hey, judging by your results, you're perfectly healthy and have the best possible condition for the baby." He turns the page to check a few more things.

“We should probably just get some more sun and fresh air for your wellbeing. Your vitamin D levels are a little low… No wonder down here…” In his head, he makes a mental note to talk to Bepo and Hakugan about surfacing today.

That sounds as if…

“Do you want me to keep the child?” You look up at him, a little surprised. A pleasant excitement spreads through your chest at the thought that Law will be the father of your child.

His eyes peek over the edge of the paper, looking down at you. He examines your glazed eyes, places the papers on the table and crouches down in front of you to be closer to you.

“Do you want to keep the child, y/n?” he notices that you're a little unsure, but that's okay. That's normal... but he will follow your final decision. No matter what you decide, he will stand by you and make sure you are both safe and happy.

Somehow it all feels surreal. You and Law are having a baby. That will change everything now, but you're longing to find out what it's like. You shrug your shoulders a little sheepishly.

“Uh-huh… kind of, yea.” Somewhat embarrassed, you smile at him. For you, getting together with Law has always been like hitting the jackpot, but you'd never thought about you two becoming parents.

But dear, if you only knew how Law sees you… He'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy about becoming a dad, but right now you're coming first, since you're feeling 'a little under the water'. [sorry but I couldn't help myself, lol]

“Well, I guess we have something to celebrate, don't we?“

Law's grin makes you smile. Somehow he always pushes the right buttons with you. With his charming looks, his cunning manner and clever little head, he always manages to mess with your feelings. You've never felt this way about anyone before and you weren't exactly a virgin before… Now that you're becoming parents, you feel like you're starting to really mature with Law.

“How are we going to tell them?” Parties are not his thing, you know that, but as soon as the others find out, they want to throw a party anyway.

He seems to be thinking deeply as he plays with your fingers.

“Maybe we'll just throw a party…” you look down at him in surprise, but he explains why.

“I know for a fact that we won't be able to avoid it…” a small giggle slips out of your mouth and you gently squeeze his hand, but Law breaks your eye contact.

“Well, I won't be able to get around it…” You're never against a fun party, but after an hour Law's social battery is usually drained and he disappears into his study.

“Not a bad idea, actually. If we plan the party, we can be sure that it won't be too chaotic. Let's keep it simple.” Law is pleased that you share the same thought. Well, it's probably because you can't party as hard as usual, but it doesn't make you sad. Somehow the joy slowly sets in.

Law gets up and pulls you up with him while you both hold hands. Without saying a word, he takes you in his arms and you breathe in his calming scent. At this very moment you just feel so good, even though you were so scattered until a few moments ago, you are sure that everything will work out with Law by your side.

You're kind of excited. The crew thinks you're throwing a party because you're resurfacing today and they believe that cheap lie, but what pirate crew needs a reason to throw a party? They probably don't give it a second thought and are happy to have food and booze under the sun.

In a good mood, you hum a little tune in the kitchen while you prepare a few treats in the kitchen. At some point, Shachi comes by and you tell him that he shouldn't be snacking, but he just laughs cheekily at you and stuffs a filled onigiri into your mouth. You hum contentedly as you taste the tuna cream.

“You're getting better and better y/n, the shape is a real triangle this time too!” you smack him on the back of the head and huff in offense.

He's used to it and your blows don't even really hurt so he just laughs as he rubs his head.

“I'm sure Law will be more than pleased.” Without a care in the world, he picks another treat from the little buffet you've set up and disappears into the corridor.

Your gaze rests on your bitten onigiri. You are secretly thrilled that he thinks Law will be happy. You wonder if he is looking forward to your current situation in general.

After you surfaced with the Polar Tang, Law and a few others set up the deck. Tables and benches were set up and you and Ikkaku hung up some hanging garlands to make it look more festive. After putting the finishing details on the final appearance, you put your hands on your hips in satisfaction while Law stepped to your side.

“They really don't suspect anything…” he whispers in your ear.

You just smile to yourself. After all, it just seems like you're having a party as usual. The buffet, the decorations, the festive lights and a small bar on the deck are just the same as usual.

Law doesn't know it, but you couldn't help yourself and had to tell Ikkaku about it immediately. After all, she's your best friend. You can definitely trust her not to spill the beans and it shouldn't be too difficult because you're throwing the party today anyway. She even offered to prepare a few desserts. With hearts in your eyes, you accepted her offer, of course.

All in all, it was an evening like any other with your crew. There was laughter, some dancing, a lot of goofing around and singing. Avoiding the alcohol was quite difficult, but luckily Ikkaku was your knight in shining armor. She always swapped your cup with hers, with only water inside, in an discreet fashion.

As the sunset glowed over your submarine and the atmosphere on deck calmed down allowing everyone to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, Law decided that now was the perfect time to spread the news.

He raised his glass and tapped it lightly with his fork so that everyone's attention was drawn to him by the clinking sound.

A few of the pirates look up at him in surprise. It's not that unusual for Law to make a speech from time to time, but there shouldn't be any special reason for him to make one today. Or maybe there is?

Glances go round among themselves. You smile knowingly to yourself as you watch the confusion on their faces.

“Sometimes there are unexpected twists and turns on our travels and sometimes it's the best thing that could have happened to us. In the end, everything always turned out well and that's only because we trusted and helped each other. We may be pirates, but we are also…” - “A FAMILY” Penguin and Sachi cry and shout in unison.

Law's words are unexpectedly touching. His words are always wise and uplifting… but this time he not only speaks from the heart, but with it and everyone is moved to the core.

You could cry because you know why he uses such beautiful words. With a satisfied grin, he agrees with the men.

“Exactly. We are a family and today y/n and I want to announce something to you.” Little by little, questioning glances wander to you and Law nods to you with an encouraging expression on his face. He now leaves you the honor of continuing.

“I'm pregnant!” you blurt out in a squeaky voice.

The looks go back and forth between you two in a rather funny way while the surprise is written all over everyone's face.

All of a sudden, the group erupts into a joyful roar and congratulations are given to you. Ikkaku can finally take you in her arms, her eyes overflowing with tears. A few of the men are shaking hands with Law while Bepo rushes up to Law and almost crushes him in a hug.

Your heart bursts as you watch the cheering crowd and stroke Ikkaku's back in a soothing manner as she utters some incomprehensible words of joy…

In the chaotic happiness, your and Law's eyes met. He seems as happy as you feel.

The atmosphere were already great before, but now it's just amazing.

They raise a toast to both of you and your little one, while Penguin and Shachi fight over which of them gets to listen and feel your belly first. You have to laugh at their goofiness, because there's not much of the typical pregnancy belly to be seen yet.

Bepo comes running towards you with cute beady eyes and gives you a warm embrace. He snuggles up to your head and you brush against his soft fur…

You hear his soft sniffle and in a low voice he whispers to you how happy he is for you guys.

“You're going to be great parents!” You wipe a small tear of joy from his face and pull yourself together so that you don't burst into tears yourself, but you're just too emotional. Your walls collapse and the tears roll down your cheeks.

The rest of the gang decides to come up to you and engages even Law in a huge group hug. It touches you more than anything how happy your friends are for you.

You can hardly wait to tell your friends the Straw Hats. You wonder how they will react. You secretly hope that it will be the reason you'll see each other sooner than you thought.

You really want to go shopping with Ikkaku, Robin and Nami for the baby!

You let the evening fade away together until at some point it was just you and Law.

The evening got a bit chilly and before you could even get cold, Law put his coat around you. Thanking him with a quiet smile, you can still see the joy on his face… And you? You can still hardly believe it. You're going to be parents… but you're still thinking about how Law really feels. He's obviously happy but you wish you could hear what he's thinking.

“Law, tell me, how do you feel?” Your eyes are fixed on the sea. You watch the glittering reflection of the moon in the water, while his gaze rests on you.

“I don't know. I kind of feel everything. Excitement, joy but also some fear.” Your gaze quickly goes up to him, but his eyes are now on the open sea.

The fact that he feels the same as you is somehow reassuring. You're a bit jealous of him for always keeping such a cool head, because unlike you, he seemed so calm and confident the whole time.

“You know y/n, when I went through the results today I could hardly believe my eyes when I realized why you were feeling bad.” With his arms leaning against the railing, he smiled down at you.

“I thought my heart stopped working and when it started beating again, a new feeling was born...” The glimmer in his eyes is as calming as a fire, that is about to fade out.

You are not used to so many touching words and your heart starts beating quicker with each word. The way he says everything is saved in your brain like a video and you dare not to speak a word.

He turns his upper body towards you and moves a little closer to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face. A little hesitantly, he begins to speak again, as if searching for the right words in your eyes.

“A feeling... that I thought I had long lost… The feeling of having a family.”

Okay y/n don't cry. Don't cry!

Law kisses your forehead as he wipes a tear from your face. The feeling of his warm lips disappears faster than you'd like, though, and Law takes a step back to get down on one knee.

With his gaze fixed on your eyes, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. You know what this means but you fail to move or say anything. Wide eyed, you follow Law's movements.

“I wanted to do this much earlier… but somehow I didn't find the right time… or maybe I was just waiting for this very moment?” Law isn't quite sure himself where he gets these words from, but so much has changed after today. He opens the box and your gaze falls on the sparkling ring.

“Y/n will you marry me?”

With quivering lips, you nod at him while tears flow like a waterfall and you throw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You usually have a lot to say, but this time Law has left you completely speechless.

You could have said yes a thousand times but it would never be enough to make it clear how much you want to be his wife.

A/N: Oh well… Law. I bet you'd be great as a dad.

I hope you enjoyed it ♡

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar law #WE ARE GOING TO BE A MOM!#...i wish

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vivwritesfics · 13 hours

Text

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Five - Lilac

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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Warnings: hints of smut, talks of death and murder

Series Masterlist

The Dupont's weren't in the Netherlands for very long, just a week. But Max was determined to make every second with her count.

The broom closet was potentially the most unforgettable moment of Max's life. When their father's finished the meeting and Max was called back to Jos's side. It was incredibly difficult for him to concentrate on anything with a lacy, lilac underwear in his pocket.

It was easy to convince Jos to let him spend more time with her. All Max had to do was tell his father that his spending time with her and being nice to her was manipulation tactics, and Jos agreed. Max said things to his father, things that made him sick to his stomach. He knew Bunny wasn't stupid and pliable, but those words had Jos agreeing.

Max had never been the type to take a girl out for lunch or dinner. In his line of work it was easier to just sleep with them and move on. But not Bunny. He couldn't get her out of his head if he tried.

It didn't help that she looked so pretty sat across from him, sundress covered in pretty blue flowers, as she sipped her drink. She'd been saying something, but Max didn't know what, too busy admiring her to listen.

She looked at him like she was expecting an answer. "Sorry, Angel," he said, shaking himself out of it. "I was a little distracted."

He'd been staring at her the entire time, she knew. Her smile was wide, shy embarrassment written on her face as she looked down at her near empty drink. "I asked when you're coming back to Monaco," she said, using her straw to stir the drink.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he thought. "I don't know, Angel," he answered. Angel, never Bunny. She loved it, loved the way her insides squirmed every time the name left his lips.

"Are you gonna tell me when you're back?" She asked.

Max's heart jumped, ready to leap out of his chest. She wanted him around for more than just her short stay in the Netherlands. He knew he had to get back to Monaco as soon as possible.

"Angel, I promise," he began. As soon as I'm back in Monaco, I'll come see you," he said, hand reaching across the table. He didn't know what he expected, maybe for her to place her hand in his. Not for her to start running her nails across his skin in such a soothing manner.

A shiver ran down his spine. It was a mixture of soothing and ticklish. He sucked in a breath as he turned his hand over and she began tracing patterns along the back of it. "When you come to Monaco, we'll have to do something fun," she mused. "Plus, you'll have to return my underwear to me at some point."

His eyes damn near bulged out of their sockets at that. "Holy shit, Angel," he croaked out. He checked the time on his watch, only to distract himself. But then he found himself releasing a sigh and a small 'Fuck'.

Her nails stopped moving against his palm. "What is it?" She asked.

Max closed his hand around her fingers. "I've got to get you back," he mumbled and stood, pulling her up with him. "You're going back to Monaco tonight, right?" Max asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Yeah," Bunny mumbled, a pout on her pretty lips. "Are you sure we have to go now?" She asked and Max nodded his head.

Lacing her fingers through his own, she allowed herself to be pulled away from the Café max had taken for to for lunch. In that moment she wasn't Bunny, she decided. No, she was Angel.

They passed a secluded little alleyway. It wasn't pretty, not by any means, full of rubbish bins and overflowing with trash. The smell as they passed was atrocious.

But still, she gripped his hand and pulled him into the alleyway. "Angel," Max said, catching her before she could flatten herself and her pretty white and blue sundress against the dirty wall. "What are you doing?"

Her hands were around his neck as she looked up at him, giving what Max could only describe as puppy dog eyes. "I don't want to say goodbye yet," she whispered and pulled him closer.

Max let his eyes drift shut. If his Angel was kissing him, he wasn't going to complain. He just pulled her against him, keeping her flush against his body. Max knew he was giving everything over to her, but he didn't much mind.

She moved away from his lips, kissing across his jaw and down to his neck. "Fuck me," she said breathlessly. "Fuck me right here, against this wall."

But Max shook his head as he pressed his forehead to her own. "I'm not gonna fuck you in this dirty alleyway," he said and checked his watched. "Besides, I've got to get you back."

He grabbed her hand once again, but this time her pout was unmissable. It took everything Max had not to give into her. "I'm sorry, Angel," he said as they approached the Verstappen stronghold. "I promise to make it up to do in Monaco."

She let go of his hand, but for no other reason than to protect Max and herself. Them being together, it was impossible, forbidden. If Dupont found out what the daughter he'd been trying so hard to protect had been doing? It would have started an all out war.

Max was silent as he led her to his fathers office. He knocked and waited for confirmation before leading her inside. Max stood himself by the window while Angel, his Angel, went to stand by her father.

"Dupont," said Jos as he looked over at the signature on the paperwork. "I trust the shipment will arrive in the next two weeks."

"Verstappen, you have my word," said Dupont, his hand coming to rest on his daughters back. She stood straighter, but her gaze was still focused on the ground.

No more pleasantries were exchanged as Dupont and Angel were led from the office. Jos waited just long enough for them to be out of earshot before he opened his vile mouth.

"She was was delectable," he said in Dutch, and Max clenched his fists by his side. "Much more pleasant to look at than that old crone Dupont would insist on bringing everywhere he went."

If it had been anybody else talking about his Angel like that, Max would have lost it and pummelled his face beyond recognition. But he kept himself composed. "What about the business?"

"She is Dupont's only living heir, and yet she seems incapable," Jos said, ignoring Max's question. "As soon as she takes over from him, Dupont and everything he has will be ours. I've always wanted to own part of France," Jos said more to himself than anybody else.

Max's mouth went dry. He said her name. Not Angel, not Bunny, but her name. "What happens to her once you've... gotten what you want?"

Jos laughed a dry sort of laugh. "Max," he said with a shake of his head. "She'll be dead."

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