#Drawing this got me out of bed so that's worth something

[noisytenant]

#indexed post #My art #Drawing this got me out of bed so that's worth something

[maysileeewrites]

Don’t Want You Like A Best Friend

17+ content; mdni!

Part I | series masterlist | my Coryo masterlist

summary: You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember. You've always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - not quite so pure and innocent anymore ...

chapter tags/warnings: some best friends to lovers angst and emotional confusion, lots of fluff, slightly ooc Coryo (don't worry, the possessive jealousy borderline crazy obsessive behavior will come in later parts!), a lil smutty treat at the end of the chapter

word count: 5,7k (it’s worth it, I promise!!)

You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember. 

You’ve grown up together, experienced everything together, with your family living just across the street from Coroy’s family’s apartment. 

You’ve been there for each other during the dark days of the war, when both his parents and your father died. You’ve attended the academy together for years. 

You’re planning on going to University together as well, though that is still in the future, seeing as it will be a few more months until you’ll both finally graduate the academy. 

Really, Coriolanus is such a constant, important aspect in your life, you can’t imagine life without him. 

He’s always there for you - whether it be to laugh over a silly joke one of you two made or to hug and console you after a bad day or to look out for you and protect you. 

You’re inseparable, really, spending almost every moment together. 

Before, you’ve always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - they’re not quite so pure and innocent anymore.

Lately, you’ve caught yourself staring at Coriolanus more and more often, gaze lingering on his bright blue eyes, his mischievous smirk, his blond curls or his toned, muscled arms or chest. 

When he hugs you, you can’t help but notice how good it feels to be pressed against his toned chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin. 

When he reaches out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, you have to fight the urge to close your eyes and lean into his warm, comforting touch. 

When he reaches out to draw you closer, his hand settling possessively on your waist, the first thought in your head is that this - this feels right. You and Coryo together, as close as possible. 

And you can’t help but want, no, crave, more of it. 

More of Coryo, more of you two together, more of that dizzying, heady feeling you get whenever he touches you that sends your thoughts spiraling and makes your heartbeat go haywire. 

You’ve started to crave his touch more and more, always trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch him - letting your hand brush against his, laying a hand on his arm to steady yourself or reaching out a hand to brush a stray curl from his forehead. 

You feel yourself starting to get addicted to him more and more - and you have no idea how to stop it. 

Though, if you’re honest with yourself- you don’t want to stop it. 

You want to get lost in this snow storm of feelings. 

“Let’s go through this one more time”, Coryo says from his place at your desk, prompting a sigh from you. 

“Coryo”, you say, whining, “we’ve been going through this this whole afternoon. I think you’ve got it. Besides, the test is not until next Monday, you’ve got the whole weekend to continue studying - not that you need it.” 

“You know that I can’t afford to get anything other than an A on this test, right?”, Coryo replies, sighing. 

“And you know that you’ll get an A, even without studying, Coryo”, you reply, finally sitting up from your sprawled-out position on your bed. 

You can see Coryo shaking his head, about to say something else, so you hastily add: “Please, Coryo. I know how much you worry about your grades - I get it, I really do. But, you’ve slowly been driving me insane this afternoon, I can’t go through this stuff yet again, at least not right now.” 

When Coryo doesn’t reply immediately, you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You didn’t want to sound so mean, but the truth is that he has been driving you crazy this afternoon. You’ve already gone through all your notes of ancient history three times and you really don’t want to go all through 18 pages - front and back, in Coryo’s small, neat handwriting no less - of notes yet again. 

Coryo sighs frustratedly. 

You look up, only to find his intense gaze fixed on you, his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’m sorry, you’re right”, he says, sighing again and running a hand through his blond curls. “Maybe I just need to take a break-“ 

“That sounds wonderful”, you say, cutting him off before he has the chance to add a but to his suggestion. 

You get up from your bed, walking over to your desk and grab both of Coryo’s hands, trying to get him to get up, but Coryo doesn’t cooperate, becoming a dead weight to you. 

“Coryo, come on”, you plead, huffing a sigh of frustration, when he still makes no move to get up. 

You take another step closer to him, putting even more strength into the motion of your arms - just when Coryo smirks up at you, before tugging hard on your hands, causing you to stumble forward; right into his lap. 

“Asshole!”, you exclaim, pushing against his chest with your hands, but Coryo doesn’t budge. 

He just looks up at you with a triumphant smirk, a daring expression in his blue eyes. Daring you to do what exactly, you’re not quite sure. You just know that you’re trapped in his gaze, unable to do anything but look at him and get lost in his blue, blue eyes. 

And - this isn’t the first time that something like this has happened lately. In fact, lately you’ve found Coryo’s eyes lingering on you more and more often, his intense gaze seemingly burning you. 

And it should frighten you, how much you’ve come to crave the feeling of his eyes on you. And it does, but there’s something else there as well - a yearning for his attention that hasn’t been there before. 

The soft sound of Coryo chuckling at your scowling expression draws you out of your thoughts. 

“Need some help?”, he asks you, smirking. 

You huff a sigh of frustration, trying to push against his chest again - at the same time that Coryo tugs on your arms again, causing you to shift even more forward in his lap, until you’re pressed flush against his strong, muscular chest. 

Flustered, you feel your cheeks warming, your heartbeat quickening. Coryo is so, so close to you, you can feel his breath on your skin, his heartbeat under your hands. 

And - well, you’re sitting right in his lap, and once you’ve worked through your initial confusion at his sudden closeness, you can feel something else as well. Something hard pressed against your stomach- 

Coryo clears his throat then, gently pushing you away. You stumble, disoriented from the sudden motion, but then Coryo’s hand is there on your waist, steadying you. 

He leans in even closer towards you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles softly, as if nothing has just happened. “You were saying something about taking a break?” 

You swallow, trying to calm your still erratic heartbeat and forcing a smile onto your face. “Sure. How about a snack and some hot chocolate?” 

“Finally satisfied with all the torture you’ve put me through today?”, you say, yawning, when you see Coriolanus finally closing his folder - you feel like you’ve been studying for ages and you never want to see his ancient history notes ever again. 

He laughs softly, the sound reverberating against your back. You don’t quite know how you’ve ended up in this position - both of you on your bed, Coryo sitting behind you, you sitting between his legs, your head leaning against his chest. 

It shouldn’t feel so good, being this close to him, especially after that incident earlier this afternoon- that still has your mind reeling and your cheeks heating up whenever you think about it -, but it does. 

In fact, now that you’ve got a taste of it, you don’t ever want it to stop. 

You bite down hard on your lip, trying - and failing - to stop this dangerous line of thinking. Because allowing yourself to let your thoughts spiral like this, allowing yourself to feel this nervous, heated energy that’s coursing through your veins, instead of suppressing it, like you’ve done until now - is dangerous. 

It will only lead you down a road of heartbreak. Yet you can’t seem to find it in you to hit the brakes and stop. 

„Torture?“, Coryo now says, drawing you out of your thoughts. „You seem to be in an awfully good mood for suffering through a whole afternoon of torture.“

You can’t help but smile at his words, though you’re glad that Coryo isn’t able to see it - he’d just call you out and tease you for smiling like an idiot to yourself. 

„Yes, well, going through eighteen pages of notes - front and back - four times is torture-“, your words are cut off by a surprised, startled yelp, when suddenly, Coryo starts tickling you. 

„No - Coryo, please!“, you manage to get out, but he’s unrelenting, only tickling you harder despite your protests. 

Both his hands are wrapped around your waist and your back is pressed flush against his broad chest. And even though you’re still giggling, trying to fight him off, you can also feel that nervous, heady feeling that sends your thoughts and heartbeat haywire again. 

You give up trying to fight him off, then, which Coryo immediately notices. He laughs softly, before finally ending his tickling attack and resting his head on the crook of your neck. „Enough torture for today?“, he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

You try to turn around to face him then, but both his hands are still on your waist, trapping you in place. „You’re a jerk, you know that, right?“, you say, though your voice doesn’t sound quite as steady and dry as you’d intended it to. 

Coriolanus just laughs, the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over your skin causing you to shiver involuntarily. „You’ve never complained before.“ 

You huff, rolling your eyes. „Well, you’ve never bothered to acknowledge it.“ 

„Mhm, that’s probably for the best …“ 

You roll your eyes again - his answer is just so typically Coryo. 

„What, no witty retort?“, Coriolanus asks, but you only shake your head, yawning.

„We both know that you can be quite the jerk, ’s nothing new … besides, it’s late …“, you mumble, trying to suppress another yawn and leaning back against his chest again. It is late - already way past eleven, the street outside your window already dark, safe for the streetlights. 

You close your eyes, wishing that you could just stay like this, wrapped in Coryo’s comforting embrace, if only for a short moment longer.

„You’re right, it’s late“, Coriolanus now says. „I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have held you up so long, I should get going …“ 

„Or you could stay.“ 

The words are out of your mouth before you’ve thought them through and you can feel yourself flushing again. Now, you’re really glad that you’re still facing away from Coriolanus - you feel like you’d die from embarrassment if he could see your face going beet-red. 

„I could …“, he says, his voice uncertain. 

„Yes … you, uh, could …“, you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re glad that Coriolanus isn’t able to see it - really, you’re just glad that he hasn’t noticed how weird you’ve been acting around him lately, your heartbeat picking up, your cheeks flushing, your hands getting sweaty when being around him; sometimes just from a single touch or a lingering look from Coryo. 

It’s not like you’ve never done this before, like this has never happened before. This wouldn’t be the first time that Coriolanus sleeps over at your place. In fact, he used to do so a lot when you were younger, right after his parents died and he was plagued with nightmares. It stopped happening as often when you both got older, and now, it hasn’t happened in years. 

And somehow him sleeping over at your place now seems to be something totally different than him sleeping over at your place when you were both little kids. 

You’re not little kids anymore - you’ve changed. You both have. Your friendship has changed, evolved as well. 

Coriolanus is still your best friend, the one person you wouldn’t want to live without; but somehow, he’s not just that. He means something more to you as well, something else, something much less innocent than friendship-

„Yes, I could - I mean, only if that’s alright with you and your mother-“

„Sure“, you interrupt him, your voice sounding incredibly high and nervous. Fuck, you think, running a hand through your hair, and trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. „I mean, it’s no big deal …“ 

Lie. 

It is a big deal, but it’s probably for the best that Coriolanus doesn’t know that the thought of falling asleep right next to him excites you way more than it probably should. 

Coriolanus laughs softly. „Great … Should we get ready for bed then? It’s quite late and you always take ages getting ready for bed-“

„Just admit that you need your beauty sleep“, you interrupt him, teasing him back. You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s rolling his eyes at your remark. 

„Exactly“, he says, dryly, before gently losing his embrace and getting up. 

You follow him to the bathroom, your mind still spiraling. Just minutes earlier, you were complaining about going through Coryo’s ancient history notes four times; now, you’re following your best friend to the bathroom that’s connected to your room, to get ready for bed - with your best friend who’s sleeping over. 

In your bathroom, you hand Coriolanus a spare toothbrush, a comb and a towel, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips when your hands brush against his. But then, he draws you closer with one hand, his hand resting on your waist for just a moment too long and you’re blushing again, the thought that you shouldn’t feel so excited and nervous about your best friend sleeping over already forgotten again. 

It takes you quite some time to get ready for bed. Not, as Coriolanus keeps insisting, because of your way too long and time consuming evening routine; but because of him distracting you with his lingering touches and stolen glances - messing your hair up again right after you’ve combed through it; catching your gaze in the mirror over the sink again and again while you’re brushing your teeth; drawing you closer just when you’re about to reach for your night cream. 

It’s way past midnight when you’re finally laying down in bed - right next to Coriolanus, who turns to look at you with a soft smile on his face after you’ve reached for the bedsheets, drawing them over you both. 

He scoots closer to you, before wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you even closer to him, your back flush against his chest - the gesture so casual and natural, as if it doesn’t make your heartbeat go haywire. 

„Good night“, he whispers, before resting his head on the crook of your neck. 

Your heart skips a beat then. 

„Good- good night, Coryo“, you manage to get out, your voice wobbly. 

You close your eyes, though you already know that actually falling asleep will be almost impossible - how are you supposed to just fall asleep with Coriolanus right there, your back pressed against his chest, his hand on your waist, his head resting on the crook of your neck? 

No - you probably won’t even catch a single second of sleep this night. 

But somehow, that doesn’t sound too bad. (Not when you get to spend the night like this, with your best friend wrapped around you.) 

The next morning, you’re the first one awake. 

Coriolanus is still soundly asleep, his even breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. You’re in almost the same position as you were when you fell asleep, with Coriolanus’s hand on your stomach, his head resting on your shoulder. 

You were right, you think, yawning, you didn’t get much sleep. It took you ages to fall asleep, your mind still reeling from Coriolanus’s overwhelming closeness. You must have fallen asleep at some point though, because you distinctly remember waking from Coriolanus tightening his hold on you and muttering some unintelligible. 

You yawn again, carefully turning around to face Coriolanus. 

He’s still asleep. 

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on him, study his face - as if you haven’t already memorized every single one of his features. He looks so calm and peaceful when he sleeps, his expression soft and open. 

Without thinking, you reach up with one hand and brush a stray blond curl from his forehead. The motion seems to wake Coriolanus though, because his eyes flutter open, and then he’s looking at you - his blue gaze still a bit disoriented, but you feel caught up in his gaze nonetheless. 

„Hey“, he says, his voice still a bit sleepy, „sleep well?“ 

You quickly withdraw your hand, forcing a smile onto your face. „Well, could’ve been better if you hadn’t snored so loudly“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Coriolanus just scoffs. „I do not snore“, he says, indignant. 

No, you think, but you still kept me awake all night long, just by having your hand splayed across my stomach, your head resting on my shoulder. 

Still, you force yourself to shrug. „Easy for you to say.“ 

Coriolanus just scoffs again. But even though he’s annoyed by your comment, shooting you another indignant look, you can’t help but think that you want to spend every single morning just like this. 

You want to wake up right next to Coriolanus every morning - something you shouldn’t even be thinking about, but something that you still desperately crave nonetheless.  

It becomes a habit, then - Coryo sleeping over at your place.

At first, he only does it after one of your study sessions, once or twice a week. But then, it starts happening more and more often - him sleeping over after a movie night (considering that it took you a lot of convincing to get him to finally agree to a movie night, he seems to be enjoying himself quite a lot, cuddling up to you on your living room couch, resting his head on the crook of your neck, sending your heartbeat haywire) or after an evening of cooking together or after a long evening spent together at the Academy’s library, finishing an assignment for Professor Sickle.

At first, you don’t really think anything of it. 

But then, one Sunday morning you’re going through your clothes (for once, Coryo didn’t sleep over at your place, because he and Tigris promised the Grandm’am an early breakfast before helping her out with her roses) and suddenly,  you realize that there’s a whole stack of Coryo’s clothes in your closet. Dress shirts, plain shirts, pants, even one of his favorite shirts - it’s all here, in your closet. 

Without allowing yourself to think too much about it, you grab a simple long-sleeved grey shirt from the stack with Coryo’s clothes and put it on. (It’s oversized, the sleeves way too long, but you don’t care, the shirt is so soft and comfortable. And besides - it still smells like Coryo, like roses and powder and something else, something that’s entirely him.) 

After throwing on some simple, comfortable pants as well, you walk over to your bathroom - and startle when you see the box with Coryo’s things on one side of the big, marble sink. A toothbrush, a comb, even a small tube of Tigris’s face cream that he secretly uses - you’re the only one who knows and he’d made you swear not to tell a single living soul that fact. 

You smile at the memory, absentmindedly running a hand through your hair and letting your eyes wander through the bathroom. 

But everywhere you look, you see Coriolanus. Everything seems to somehow remind you of him. 

That towel on the sink, which is lying neatly folded right next to the box with Coryo’s stuff. It’s one of your own towels, nothing special in your opinion - you’ve got lot of other towels and really, a towel is just a towel - but Coryo insists that it’s softer than your other towels and feels better on his skin. 

That old butterfly-shaped hairpin of yours, lying abandoned on the windowsill. You only have to look at it to be taken back to Thursday night when you were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair in front of the great mirror over the sink, when suddenly Coryo walked into your bathroom, your old hairpin in hand. 

„That’s the hairpin you got for your tenth birthday, isn’t it?“, he asked, smiling to himself. 

You nodded. „Yes, I thought about giving it away, maybe gifting it to my little cousin, because I don’t really think that it suits me anymore.“ 

Coryo’s smile seemed to freeze at your words. „Really? I still think it looks great, look“, he said, drawing you closer with one hand whilst reaching up with his other hand to place to pin in your hair. 

„See?“, he said, smiling. 

You laughed, shaking your head. „I mean, yes, it’s beautiful, but I’m not ten anymore, Coryo.“ 

You wanted to put the hairpin away, but Coriolanus insisted on you keeping it just a little longer - maybe you’d change your mind about it. 

You reach for that hairpin now, absentmindedly running your fingers over it. Coriolanus is right, the pin is beautiful, even though it looks a bit worn down after years of usage. 

You decide to keep the pin, then. Not because you think that you’ll wear it again, but as another reminder of Coryo. 

It is in this moment that you realize that your feelings towards your best friend have changed - you no longer view him as just your best friend. 

You no longer want him like a best friend. 

You don’t want to be just his best friend anymore - you want so much more than that. You want - no need - his attention, want his lingering eyes on you, want his warm, comforting touch before falling asleep, want to wake up next to him, want to feel his lips on yours. 

You tighten your grip on the hairpin, until you feel it starting to dig uncomfortably in your skin, but the pain still can’t distract you from your thoughts and the heavy, crushing feeling in your chest. 

Because no matter how much you might want to be more than Coryo’s best friend - to him, you’ll never be anything else. He’ll never see you as anything other than his best friend. 

It somehow becomes both easier and harder to be around Coryo after your realization. 

Easier, because it means that you still get to be around him, get to talk with him, fall asleep with him at your side, ly next to on your bed while he’s motivating you to study. 

Harder, because it means that you still get to be around him - all the time. Looking at him, laughing with him, touching him; fantasizing about him in ways that you definitely shouldn’t think about your best friend. 

His presence is almost like a drug to you; addicting and intoxicating, leaving you craving more of it, even though you know that it’s not good for you - in the end it’ll be your heart that’ll be broken. 

„Something on your mind?“, Coryo’s soft voice draws you out of your thoughts, his hand absentmindedly drawing circles on your back. 

It’s already late evening and you’re lying together in your bed - you wearing one of his shirts, which he noticed with a satisfied smirk earlier, over your nightdress. 

You shake your head, thankful that Coriolanus can’t see your face, seeing as he’s spooning you from behind. „Not really, no … just all these papers we’ll have to hand in during the next two weeks …“ 

„Well, if it’s nothing else …“, Coriolanus says, laughing softly, his warm breath tickling against your skin, but something tells you that he doesn’t quite believe your words. 

„Nope“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant, before freeing yourself from Coriolanus’s grip, taking off his shirt, so that you’re left in only your lacy, red nightdress. 

The distraction works - Coriolanus’s swallows, the expression in his eyes darkening. „Won’t you - uhm, freeze? If you’re only sleeping in that, I mean, it doesn’t look very warm …“, he stutters - actually stutters. 

„Freeze?“, you ask, grinning, „with you right next to me?“ 

Coriolanus just scoffs, rolling his eyes. It’s a discussion you’ve had quite often these last few weeks - with you convinced that his body temperature is too high, and him convinced that yours is running too low. 

Though maybe Coryo does have a point and you always feeling so hot when you’re being embraced by him has more to do with your heartbeat quickening and your palms turning sweaty from being so near to him and less with his body temperature. 

Suddenly, Coriolanus sits up, leaning in towards you, before closing both his arms around you, caging you in his embrace. Both of his hands are splayed possessively over your stomach, though one feels dangerously close to your chest. 

Though - maybe that is just your imagination running wild with you again.  

„Warm enough for you?“, Coriolanus asks, resting his head on the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin. 

You laugh, trying not to squirm - you’re insanely ticklish, something Coriolanus very much know. „Yes, Coryo, more than enough …“ 

„Hm …“, he laughs softly. „Can’t have you freezing now, can I?“, he adds, reaching for your blanket and draping it around you both. 

„Hm ...“, you hum, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against his chest. You feel so warm and content, being so close to Coryo. It’s so easy to get lost in your imagination like that, to pretend that you can actually have this with him, to pretend that this is not just your best friend messing around with you - to pretend that he feels the same way you do. 

You stay like that for a moment - Coryo holding you in his arms, bodies pressed flush together. 

Then, after a while - you can’t tell whether it’s been only a few minutes or a few hours; time always seems to either stop or pass you by in a blur whenever you’re with Coriolanus - he clears his throat, breaking his embrace. 

„It’s late, we should probably try to get some sleep …“, he says, trying to suppress a yawn. 

You nod, forcing a smile onto your face. „Sure … can’t have your mind in a foggy, exhausted state when you want to make a good impression in Sickle’s class tomorrow morning …“ 

Coriolanus scoffs, laying down on your bed. 

The moment you’ve lain down as well, he scoots closer to you, enclosing you in his arms. Something he does every night when he sleeps over, though your heart still skips a beat at the action. 

This is dangerous, you think. You can’t keep thinking about your best friend like that, can’t keep falling and falling for him- 

„Good night“, Coriolanus says - and then he does something he’s never done before: he leans in closer towards you, pressing a gentle, soft kiss to your hairline. 

Your heartbeat quickens and you can only hope that Coryo won’t be able to pick up on it. 

„Good - good night, Coryo“, you say, your voice shaky, barely being able to get the words out. 

Coriolanus laughs, before resting his head on the crook of your neck again. 

You swallow, trying not to shiver. 

This night, it takes you a long time to fall asleep. 

When you wake up, Coriolanus has wrapped himself around you, caging you in between his arms, one of his hands splayed possessively across your stomach, his other hand dangerously close to the hem of your admittedly quite short night dress. (You may have decided on deliberately wearing this particular lacy red night dress, seeing as it has made Coriolanus look at you with a dark expression in his eyes when he’d seen you wearing it once before.)

His strong, muscled chest is pressed flush against your back - though that’s not the only thing pressed against your back. 

You feel your cheeks heat up when you realize what this means. This has only happened two times before, and both times Coriolanus was quick to embarresedly scoot away from you when he woke up, realizing that his erection had been pressed against your back. 

Now, though, Coriolanus seems to be asleep and in no hurry to move away from you. In fact, he suddenly makes a low muffled noise, his grip on you tightening, his hand at the hem of your night dress moving up even higher until you can feel his fingertips brush over the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

You can’t help the surprised noise that escapes you then - even though all of this should feel so wrong; it doesn’t. 

It doesn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, you want - no, crave even more of this, of you and Coryo pressed so closely together that not even a single leaf could fit between you, Coriolanus’s hands on you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Coriolanus suddenly says your name, his lips brushing against your skin, causing you to shiver. 

„Cory?“, you ask, trying to turn around, but his grip on you is too tight, keeping you in place. 

Then - your name falling from his lips again, followed by a loud, coarse moan. 

„Yes, right there - fuck, so good, so good“, Coriolanus moans, one hand suddenly finding its way under the skirt of your night dress, his fingers moving up higher and higher on your thighs, coming dangerously close to the hem of your panties-

„Fuck!“ Another loud moan, followed by Coriolanus’s hips moving against yours, his erection pressing against you. 

Oh, you think, cheeks impossibly warm, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from making any sound. 

Besides your imagination running wild these last few weeks, one dirty fantasy of you and your best friend chasing the other, this has never happened to you. You thought that it never would happen to you - at least not with Coryo. 

Though he’s only caught up in a dream of his own, you try to remind yourself, when his hips move against yours again. 

It’s only a dream. But why is it your name that he’s moaning then, not any other? But maybe it’s just a coincide-

Every single thought is wiped from your head, when Coriolanus’s fingers brush over your panties, teasing your clit though the thin fabric. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you then - not when this feels so good, Coriolanus’s fingers teasing over your clit, his hips moving against yours, his lips pressed to the skin of your neck, his other hand still splayed across your stomach. 

Coriolanus moans your name again then, his fingers cupping your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties, and you find yourself moving your hips against his, driven by pure instinct. 

The low, coarse groan that escapes Coriolanus then has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together, but his fingers are still there, still teasing over your clit. 

Suddenly, his fingers start to move, drawing teasing circles over your clit, and it’s all too much for you. Overwhelmed by all the different emotions coursing through you, you tear yourself away from his grip, getting up on shaky feet and walking over to the bathroom that’s connected to your bedroom. 

Your head is still spinning when you find yourself leaning against the cold, marble walls of the bathroom, your core still aching, yearning for Coriolanus’s touch. 

You shiver, even though you feel too hot, your skin feeling like it’s been set on fire. Coriolanus touched you. Your best friend’s fingers were almost inside you and- 

Fuck. 

Fuck, you’ll never able to look your best friend in the eyes again, even though all you want is to be as close to him as you were moments ago. 

Acting on pure instinct, you shimmy out of your nightdress, letting it fall to the floor, before stepping inside the shower. Maybe a good, cold shower, will help, you think, turning on the shower. 

You step back, letting the cold water hit your body. But even though the cold water feels like needles prickling against your skin, you still feel as if your entire body was set on fire, your core still aching and empty. 

Almost on their own accord, your fingers find their way to your clit. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to blink back the tears in your eyes that are suddenly threatening to spill. 

Still, you can’t help the low moan that escapes you when your fingers find their way between your folds. 

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back - letting pure instinct take over, as you fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing that it were Coryo’s fingers filling you up instead. 

When you come, it’s with a desperate, breathless cry and images of Coriolanus pressed against you playing over and over again in your mind.

What you don’t know, though, is that Coriolanus has been awake all this time - every single touch was a deliberate, strategic move on his part and you’d reacted even better than he could have imagined. He followed you to the bathroom when you got up from bed, and now he’s watching you come undone from his position behind the door that you forgot to properly lock in your haste.

He feels like he’s going crazy, crawling out of his skin as he watches you screw your eyes shut, throwing your head back. Your breathless whimpers and moans are all that he can hear, echoing through his mind. 

Wracked with shame, guilt and desire coursing through him, he shoves one hand into his pants, his eyes still fixated on you. 

It only takes a few strokes over his already achingly hard length until he comes undone as well. 

And when he unravels, it is with your breathless moans echoing through his mind, his eyes on you, and your name like a bittersweet, deadly poison that he just can’t get enough of on his lips. 

sooo ...? please, please lmk what you think, I'm so excited to hear your thoughts!

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@asapkyndall @slitsphilia @ravenclawprincess33 @mckennah123 @serving-targaryen-realness @mentallyyy-unstable @mizuki80 @snows-wife @prettyinsatiable @ashcosmo @generally-awqward @snowflxke @nallasstuff @ajs-222 @spiritofbuddha @notyourwildestdream @earthangel-111 @bhdem @toogardenheart @iheartinkonpaper @daisiesformylove @ebsmind @dominqueeekk @cherrybomb8484 @dangelnleif @minmin1328 @scarletttargaryen

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comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #thg #tbosas #x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #don't want you like a best friend #maysileeewrites

[gurugirl]

Spiderman | fratboy!harry

Continuation of this one shot - but can be read as standalone.

Summary: You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight mask kink, this is mostly just gratuitous smut

Tonight was your excuse to dress up like the supervillain Poison Ivy. A short green dress with patches of fabric leaves all over and a crown of ivy on your head. Mostly it was just something cute to wear to draw a little attention. Plus Poison Ivy is bisexual so you were hoping at least someone picked up the hint. All were welcome, so to speak.

When you got to the frat house you noted all the sexy and fun Halloween costumes. Lots of tit-bearing cats, a few she-devils, some baseball players in well-fitted jerseys, a Lego. The house was packed. The music was loud. Too many of your fellow university schoolmates had begun drinking early. You arrived late on purpose. Drunk wasn’t a cute look. At least you didn’t think it was. Not on you anyway. And you kind of hoped to get hit on and maybe get lucky. Tipsy sex could be fun. Drunk sex wasn’t memorable enough to be worth it.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while.” You looked over at a tall someone dressed in a Spiderman costume. The hood was covering his face so his identity was a mystery, though you thought you recognized the voice as someone you’d had a fun hookup with once.

You leaned your hip into the counter just as you’d finished pouring yourself a drink, “Is that so? I guess I wouldn’t know if I’d seen you around or not since I can’t exactly be sure who you are.”

His laugh had you grinning suddenly as he mimicked your stance, leaning his own hip into the counter facing you, though you couldn’t see his eyes under the spandex material.

“So, you’re telling me you can’t recognize me by my body?” He leaned his head down as if looking over himself before bringing his face back upward, “This costume hardly hides anything.”

You cocked your head, sipping your drink as you allowed your eyes to travel over the red and blue spandex. It clung tightly to his chest and hips, thighs… You didn’t miss the bulge either as you brought your eyes back up to the spot where you figured his eyes were under the mask, “Nope. Sorry. Should I recognize you by your body alone?”

You could tell he was smiling under the spandex, “You should. As I recall, you know my body rather intimately.”

Now you were certain it was the fun hookup you had a while back. You didn’t know him well. But you did know him to be quite popular. And attractive. And the time he went back to your dorm with you and your friend was quite memorable. But you decided to play coy a little bit. Just to get him going.

“Really? Hmm…” You feigned confusion as you slowly ate up his frame, inch by inch with your gaze. His heavy-looking bulge was a nice reminder of how sizable he was. You wouldn’t forget it. “Still doesn’t ring a bell. I don’t see any outstanding features here.” You waved your hand up and down gesturing at his frame.

He nodded and remained quiet. You were sure he was feeling you out. Trying to see if you were fucking with him or not. You were.

When he inched in toward you and placed his gloved hand over your forearm he leaned in and spoke quietly into your ear, “I’ll give you a hint. Would you like a hint, Y/n?”

You nodded as you felt his warmth. He was so close to your body as he spoke, “Had you bouncing on my cock, made you come, all while your friend watched us fuck.”

You swallowed. Yes. You remembered very clearly that night. It was the only time you’d ever done anything like it before. And now, he was clearly trying to get you in bed again. At least… that was the vibe you were getting. You looked down and realized his bulge was, well it was bulging. Was he getting turned on just thinking about it? You needed to have him again. Wouldn’t mind feeling that thick cock inside of you once more.

You sighed and turned to face his mask, “Hmm… maybe. I’m not positive, though. Might need to check a few things out to verify–“

Harry’s grip on your forearm tightened, “Can be arranged. Wanna go find a room so you can verify?”

You laughed as you looked around. You’d never been talked into something like this so fast in your life. Then again, Harry, you knew it was him, was quite convincing and he was good in bed from what you remember. You couldn’t feel bad for giving in so quickly.

Harry took your hand and you followed him upstairs, leaving your unfinished drink in the kitchen and long forgotten.

The good thing about the frat house was that it was massive and there were enough bedrooms that you were able to find a free room almost right away.

Harry locked the door behind himself and then suddenly he was pushing you backward toward the bed where you fell to your bottom the moment the back of your thighs hit the edge. You giggled as he put his spandex-covered hands on your thighs. Propping yourself up by your elbows you watched him take in your bare legs and then one by one, lift each upward to remove your heels. He was between your thighs and the erection he was sporting indicated he wasn’t wearing underwear. Or if he was he’d fully pushed his way up and out of the top band.

“M’gonna give you a little reminder. Take you down memory lane and have you sit on my face. Is that all right?” He climbed over you on the bed, hovering over your body and looking down at you. You really wished you could see his pretty eyes.

“Okay. But how are you gonna do anything with this on?” You plucked at the fabric covering his face.

You heard a breathy, amused laugh fall from his chest as he pushed himself off of you and laid down on his back, “You’ll see. Climb up.”

You adjusted yourself, straddling his torso, and then lifted upward, gently placing yourself over his face, not yet sitting all the way. You were still wearing panties and you were hovered over his mask so you weren’t sure what his plan was exactly.

“Lean forward a bit.” He spoke from under you.

Leaning forward, you put your hands on the headboard and he adjusted something underneath you and that’s when you realized he was lifting his mask to uncover his mouth and part of his nose before pushing your panties aside and grasping your thighs, pulling you down on his mouth. You laughed when you settled and looked at the Spiderman mask between your thighs. You couldn’t see much of his nose and his mouth was covered by your pussy but the whole thing felt ridiculous to you.

Ridiculous until he began mouthing at your pussy slowly, using his tongue through your crease and his hands gripped your ass, pushing you into him further.

“Oh!” You tightly grabbed onto the headboard again in a gasp.

His warm tongue slid up and down and his moans made you hot. You hadn’t quite been ready but with his mouth on your clit, you were quickly aroused and slowly wetting his face.

Kissing and sucking sounds below drew your eyes down to him. You could see his dark curls sticking out from the edges of his mask where he’d pulled it up, his pink lips were also memorable. How had you not reached out to him after that first night? He was good. And he was so fucking hot. But he was also really nice to you and to your friend.

You tilted your pelvis down and dragged your clit over his nose and moaned softly as he pushed his tongue into your entrance. The slow lathering of his tongue up and down your crease and his puckering lips felt just as good as you remembered.

He pushed at you and inhaled a sharp breath, “Starting to remember me now?” His shiny berry lips quirked up in a cocky smile as you panted and shook your head, “Nuh-uh. I’ve sat on lots of faces. Gonna have to give me something more if you really want me to remember you.”

His raspy laugh had his nostrils flaring and he pushed at you, causing you to move off his face, “Fine,” he breathed as he sat up, “Lie down. Looks like you need something a little extra.”

Your back hit the mattress as he sat back on his haunches and pulled at your panties, tearing them down your legs and pushing your dress up your thighs, exposing your cunt to him as he lowered his face over you, his shoulders bumping into the back of your thighs to hold you down.

“Y/n, you taste just like you did before. So soft and sweet,” he ran his spandex-covered finger through your crease and you gasped at the odd feeling of it. He laughed at your reaction, “You’re wet enough that this should still feel really good. Tell me if it’s irritating to your skin,” his mouth and nose, and ends of his hair were still exposed as he circled two fingers over your clit and had his face tilted toward you.

When he opened his mouth wide and lowered it over your clit you grasped onto his hood and sighed. It was so good. Just like before. His tongue and lips and the way he gently sucked you in made you quiver.

But it was the odd sensation of his fabric-covered fingers slipping through your wetness that kept you very much in the moment. You kept imagining that the shiny spandex would soon collect all your wetness and you’d be left dry and it would start to hurt but it was the opposite.

The smooth material became coated and the extra friction from the fabric felt yummy.

He slurped your clit and took a good long lick upward from your entrance to your clit and then held up two of his fingers so you could see, “Look. Just want you to see this before I start fucking you with them. Nice and slippery,” he scissored his fingers apart and you saw the strings of arousal stick together,” But tell me if you don’t like it.”

“Oh my god…” you moaned as you craned your neck up to watch him as he slowly plunged them inside of you.

You tightened your thighs, but Harry used his free hand to hold you apart and the grin on his face as he watched his gloved fingers slide in and out of you was lewd, “Hear that?” He increased the speed at which he was fingering you, your wetness being pushed in and out with his fingers was definitely audible, “Bet that feels so good, doesn’t it, Y/n?”

You nodded and moaned again, still trying to keep your neck tilted so you could watch.

When he wrapped his mouth around your clit once again, though, you cried out and your head fell back onto the mattress in surrender.

His fingers, his tongue, and his lips had you writhing and moaning pathetically, “Oh fuck…” you cried as he curled his fingers just right, and flattened his tongue over your clit, his face aimed toward you as if he were watching your reaction.

He continued fingering you as he lifted his face and planted a sweet kiss to your clit, “How’s it feel? Do you want to come, Y/n?”

You moaned and gasped as you nodded, “Yes, Harry…” and the moment you said his name you knew you were busted. Your eyes widened and Harry’s grin took over his face, you could see the beginnings of his dimples.

“Figured you’d remember me,” he kissed your clit again and spoke against your pussy, “Hang on, sweet girl. Gonna finish you off properly.”

And finish you off he did. Properly at that. He held you down with one shoulder and one hand as he fingered you with his other and sucked and dug into your clit. The noises were obscene. From the wetness you’d created, to the fast pace of his fingers pushing and curling into you, to his slurping and moaning…

“Come on baby,” he coaxed when he felt your thighs shaking and your moans turned into whimpers and cries.

His tongue flicked side to side quickly and then he dug in as if he was sucking the last bits of juice off a mango and the vibrations from his moans had you seeing stars. You gripped his head and shouted his name as you came in his mouth. You thought you heard a laugh come from him but you were so far gone in ecstasy that you couldn’t care. You knew you were being loud but it wasn’t every day that a man came around to give you head the way Harry was.

When you’d opened your eyes you noticed you pushed his mask up further with how you’d been hanging on, nearly his whole nose was exposed as he softly licked upward from your entrance to your clit. He removed his fingers and was cradling the underside of your thighs with both hands. Like a loving little gesture to help you come down.

Suddenly he was hovering over you and had his lips pressed to yours. Your first kiss of the night and it tasted like your pussy. But you liked the taste of pussy so it didn’t bother you.

You could feel Harry’s hard erection on your thigh as he licked into your mouth and cupped your face.

It felt so sweet and so desperate at the same time. You knew he needed to be taken care of too. He deserved to have the favor returned after the way he’d just handled you with such precision.

Pushing at his shoulders he gasped as he parted from your lips, “What do you need, Harry?” You asked him.

He moaned and rolled his hips down so you could really feel him, “You. Just you. Whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grinned and wrapped your finger around a chunk of his hair, “But what do you want? Want a blow job? Want to fuck me? Want my hands?”

Harry exhaled heavily and dropped his mouth open, “Can’t stop thinking about how good you felt on my cock. The way we fit together.”

You bucked your hips up and nodded, “I can’t stop thinking about it either. You felt so good. Stretched me out so nice.”

“Fuck.” Harry quickly moved off of you and stood at the edge of the bed before opening up the side drawer, “Need a condom.”

You rolled over and opened up the other side table drawer to rummage through it. Not finding anything other than pens and loose charger cables. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad about rummaging through a stranger’s things when you had Harry Styles about to fuck you.

Harry adjusted his cock as he quickly walked to the dresser on the other side of the room and looked through the top drawer and let out a groan of relief, “Fuck yes.”

Holding up the condom he placed it on the dresser and untied the top of his spandex suit. He was still wearing the mask, though it had been pushed upward and his hair was exposed at the ends, slightly more grown out than the last time you saw him, but he was too focused on his task to worry about how funny he looked with his mask half covering his face. The moment he untied the top he began to pull at the suit and peel it down his toned and tattooed torso. You sat up and watched him undress. He had no underwear on just as you suspected.

You had to laugh at the spectacle. Just like a woman wearing a cute tight body suit, men had the same issue with needing to remove the entire thing in order to use the bathroom, or in your case, fuck.

“Heey, don’t laugh. Beauty comes with a price.” He grinned as he kicked the body suit away and opened up the condom, slowly putting it over himself. He looked over at you and tilted his chin upward, “Get your dress off. Wanna see those pretty tits.”

You giggled and pulled at your stretchy dress, easily removing it by the time he made his way back to the bed. He climbed over you, his mask still covering his eyes as he leaned down to kiss you.

The way his mouth moved against yours and his hands found your breasts and your ribs and your tummy as he moaned and licked at your tongue gave you a surge of need. You lifted your hips toward his and slid your hands down his torso to grab his cock.

He pushed himself down into your hand and then reared back gently to slip his shaft through your labia, wetting the condom, “This is gonna be better than the first time. No performance anxiety with a third watching.” He grinned down at you as he moved back to take you in below him.

You laughed as he pulled at your thighs and lifted your legs over his, angling your hips upward so your bottom was positioned on the tops of his thighs, “Were you nervous last time with Heidi? It was your idea? And… can we take this off?” You gestured to his mask.

“Heidi? That was her name?” He responded as he pulled the mask off from over his eyes and tossed it behind himself. “Sorry, I barely remember. But… I wanted you to think I was cool. Plus she was kinda cute. But it was really all about you.”

You pushed yourself up to your elbows at this revelation, “Wait. You only invited her because you wanted me to think you were cool?”

He shrugged and smiled shyly, “Yeah. Knew you liked girls too. Figured it might make you like me if I was cool with that.”

You shook your head, “And then you just never reached out to me again after?”

He puffed out a soft laugh, “I don’t know. Felt like maybe you weren’t as into me. Didn’t want to embarrass myself.”

You took his hand and pushed your fingers between his, “Well, after this it looks like we’ve got some talking to do. I kinda thought you were too cool for me so that’s why you never bothered.”

The look on his face was surprised, “Me? Too cool? That’s not… no way. If anyone is too cool it’s you, Y/n.”

You laughed and tugged at his hand, “Please, Harry. Just fuck me.” You were relieved to see his eyes and the top of his head finally. Just as handsome as before, hair slightly more undone from the hood he had over his head, but it was perfect for what you two were about to do.

Harry let out a shaky breath and looked down to where your entrance was wet and softly clenching for him already. His lips dropped open as he leaned forward, your hand still in his, pressing it down to the mattress next to your head as he pushed his tip in.

“Ohh…” you breathed out and watched his face scrunch up as he plunged in slowly.

“Feel that? This the reminder you needed?” He whispered lowly as he inched in.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you watched each other and he began to move in and out, deeper on each thrust. Heavy breaths and soft moans until he’d reached into you as far as humanly possible, hips rocking into you and fingers tightly squeezing around yours.

“Fuck me… Fucking condom sucks but you… holy shit…” Harry moaned and began to roll into you faster.

You reached your free hand up to move his hair from his face, “Harry… you feel so good inside of me. Oh, my god…” The snap of his hips wetly collided with you as the small bed creaked gently.

Harry held himself up with one hand, palm flat on the mattress as pushed into you, his muscles tensing and flexing above you, “Yeah? Feels good just like you remember? You’re so wet for me, Y/n. Didn’t know you needed me so bad,” he panted his words.

You were wet for him. So wet it was almost embarrassing, but you were glad in a way because he was quite sizable, and if you’d been any less wet it might have hurt. But as it was, the slip and the stretch and the way he could drag himself in and out was delicious.

You cupped his face and moaned loudly as he pounded into you harder. You could feel your tits wobbling and the bed dancing under your back. Harry was groaning and his eyes grew dark fast. Every time he bottomed out he ground himself into you deeply and you gasped at the ache, “Careful! You’re almost too deep!” You breathed out your words in a rush.

His cocky smirk meant that he took that as a compliment, so he did it once more, his eyes pinned to yours as he slowly stuffed himself into your cervix, “Ahh! Harry…” You widened your eyes and then he pushed himself back to his haunches.

“Sorry. Can’t help it,” he spoke, still grinning at you as he smoothed his fingers over your clit and worked his cock in from the new angle.

You knew he was long and that he’d reach deep, but that kind of deepness usually wasn’t achieved without you being on top. Even average-length guys felt deeper when you were on top. But Harry, of course, wasn’t average-sized. And you could tell he was very aware of that fact. Proud of it even.

With his fingers on your clit and the new angle his cock was nudging into your little sparkly, yummy soft spot inside over and over again. You moaned his name and he let go of your hand to fondle your tits. He continued a nice pace, slipping back and pushing in, long, exquisite strokes that filled you and stretched your insides apart. You could only imagine how he’d feel without the condom inhibiting the texture of his skin pressed into your skin. The friction, the way his foreskin would move inside of you, and his swollen tip uninhibited by smooth latex would really make the drag something.

“Yesss!” You moaned as he hit your spot perfectly, the repeated glide of his thick crown into your g-spot, had you trembling.

Harry breathed hard through his nose as he looked down to where he was fucking into you and back to your eyes, “Gonna come already, Y/n? Tell me how good it is.”    

“Fuck, Harry… You’re so big and you're pressing into something inside of me that I can’t… I’m gonna… it’s so good… so full… oh fuck! Gonna come…” you babbled and moaned as the bed squeaked and the headboard softly tapped the wall in time with Harry’s thrusts.

“Shit. Was gonna fuck you doggy but if you come I’m gonna come, baby. I can’t help it. Your wet pussy is just sucking me in,” he pressed down over your clit and hastened his fingers and you could feel him shaking.

You tensed your thighs and cried out just as a knock came to the door. Someone was saying something but you were gone. Your ears were ringing and your loud cries and buttery, mouthwatering orgasm were all you could focus on.

Harry groaned and pushed into you a few more times, before he couldn’t hold back, dumping his come into the condom with a choked moan.

He could hear someone threatening to unlock the door but Harry was in bliss. There was no way he could stop his cock from twitching and coming and you were so sweet and pretty below him with your face scrunched and your cries of nonsense.

The cliché of time standing still had been true in that moment. You couldn’t stop trembling and clenching over him as you felt his cock throbbing inside of you. Harry’s own orgasm just prolonged yours. He had leaned over you, his fingers in your hair as he pushed into you with gasps and soft whimpers.

When you finally opened your eyes and Harry had caught his breath the door was opened and Harry turned back quickly, covering your frame with his broad chest, “Sorry! We’ll get out. Just… let us get dressed,” Harry’s words came out breathy and stuttered as he was still breathing heavily.

“Harry? God damnit! Just… Fine. You owe me, man.” The guy who was speaking closed the door. You never saw his face because Harry had covered you and when he sat back he smiled softly at you.

“Want to go back to mine? Stay with me tonight? We can talk a little.”

You grinned and sighed with a nod, “Of course. And then maybe if you’re up for it, you can fuck me doggy like you wanted.”

Harry breathed out a laugh from his nose, “Oh I’ll be up for it.”

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[wesstars]

touch

jenna ortega x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: jenna, your lovely girlfriend, has been away filming for far too long, in your opinion. she thinks so, too. wc: 2.6k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. all characters are 18+. phone sex, masturbation, bad dirty talk lmao, this is basically all bad dirty talk, light D/s dynamics, name calling/slight degradation, praise, reader is a soft dom, strap-on referred to as “cock,” horribly excessive use of italics, feels a bit odd writing rpf… a/n: @crazyoffher :) returning the favor!

masterlist

6:01 pm

call u in a sec?

A grin lighting up your face at the text, you hurriedly type an affirmative reply as you unlock your apartment door. Dropping your bag, you kick your shoes off, sighing as you shed your coat. Making a beeline for your bedroom, your eyes slide shut as you flop down on your gigantic bed. You’d washed the sheets earlier, and they were feeling extra soft. If Jenna were here, she’d be rolling around in them, covering her own scent with one of fresh linen.

Usually, she was—you were lounging in your shared apartment, a wide open space near the top of a sleek, tall building. Every evening in LA, the two of you could be found here, the appeal of a night in far exceeding that of a night out. A bottle of wine and a packet of popcorn to share wasn’t rare either, the expensive drink wasted on you two young lovers. 

Everything had happened so quickly, but you loved it. A chance meeting on a plane had led to a long conversation about anything and everything, so common for new couples, and one-drink dates across busy nights had culminated into a fateful party invitation and an equally fateful blushing confession. Your relationship was wild, and crazy, and everything you could’ve wanted. A year later, Jenna had surprised you with a set of keys. It was a certain kind of promise that made those long nights, waiting for a phone call from half a world away, so worth it.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Seeing the ID, you instantly pick up.

“Jenna?”

“Hey,” her familiar voice comes shyly through the speaker, a comforting sound. “Are you busy?”

“No, I just got home from work.”

Jenna hums in a way that tells you she’s plotting something, and her little stifled giggle just confirms your suspicions. You fake a sigh, happy to venture into her ploy.

“Jenna, did you have something to drink?”

“No.” She huffs a laugh. “I just miss you. Tired of me already?” She asks, with innocent veneer.

“Of course not,” you say. “It’s good to hear from you, you're so busy now, I had to talk to your secretary,” you teased. She was busy, but you’d already done the calculation of Jenna’s timezone to yours—for her, filming would’ve just wrapped up in the midnight hours. For you, the setting sun was just beginning to stream through the glass walls, and you pressed the button on the nightstand to draw the curtains.

“Well, if you’re not busy,” Jenna presses on casually, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Jenna,” you smile. It was a dialogue you two had often, something you never tired of. 

“Mmm,” Jenna’s voice tugs in your stomach, lilting into a whine at the end of her emission, “I miss you, baby.”

Your mouth goes dry; it’s an automatic reaction. Damnit, this girl—she knew what kind of effect she had on you. You were glad the room was dark, because if you had to face your own blushing cheeks in the light, you might’ve just collapsed. You pull the phone away from your ear long enough to take a deep breath. “Do you, Jen?” Keeping your voice composed, you roll the end of the duvet between your fingers to keep you grounded.

“Miss you so much,” she says, the rustling in the background telling you she’s rolling on the covers. She lets out a lilting laugh, the sound sending a swooping, giddy feeling into your stomach. Jenna’s trying to lure you in; it was her game: enticing you with that docile, persuasive tone.

You decided to play, though you held back just a bit. “How much?”

“Some of your clothes still smell like you,” she says in lieu of a direct answer. “So I’m wearing your big shirt, the black one.” You’d been wondering where that shirt went, one you often slept in. Even now, you can see in your head how Jenna looked when she stole that shirt: it cut off at her thighs, the kind of sacrilegious short that inspired crimes. It reminds you of countless times she’d surprised you, when you slid your hands up under the hem to find—

“What else, Jen?”

“No bra,” she replies sweetly, laughing lightly at the end. 

“No bra, huh,” you repeat. You can practically feel your pupils dilating, the heat around your collar. “Good.”

“And this,” Jenna sighs, “lace number I got here; it looks like the one you gave me last year.” 

Your jaw clenches, and you glance at the clock, looking but not seeing. You remember what she’s talking about—a pair of panties, an expensive little excuse for fabric that grew dark at the slightest moisture. Jenna’s birthday had ended in a long, long night.

“It’s red,” she says, “just like my nails.”

Fuck. Everything feels hot, and you can just picture her in that standard issue trailer, lights dimmed, alone in a way that should be illegal. “How much time do you have?”

“Not a lot… got an early morning tomorrow.” There's a trailing edge of disappointment in her voice, but you’re familiar with her—she’s looking, hoping for you to guide her, to push her in the way only you know how.

You breathe in, deeply, your own desire quickly falling prey to Jenna’s. She had you wrapped around her little finger, that’s for sure, but she trusted you to hold her down. “Hand in your hair, Jenna. Gentle,” you instruct.

You hear her sharp inhale, but you have no question that she’ll listen. When Jenna gets like this, playful but pliant, you know she’s willing to go with just about anything you ask. It’s torture for you, each second you wait. “Now pull.”

Her responding whimper sends a bolt of heat down your neck, and you let out a silent breath. Jenna loved it when you would touch her hair, even when it was as innocent as just braiding it. The haze in her eyes when you’d tug on her locks, telling her how good she feels, was your favorite. “Harder. Do you like it?”

She breathes out, “yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Tell me what’s been on your mind to get you eager like this.” She’s shy, you hear it in her sigh, even though her hands are still running in her hair. “C’mon.”

“I miss your mouth on my neck.” The words tumble out of her almost immediately, and you dare to wonder if that’s been on her mind all day. The bruises you’d left there before filming started were long gone, no doubt. She’d begged you to make them darker, and you were all too happy to please. “I miss the car, before the airport…”

Those frantic, heated ten minutes you two were able to spare in the car before Jenna’s flight were chastised by her manager and makeup team, but you wouldn’t have traded them for anything. “That’s perfect Jen,” you coax gently. She liked your encouragement, you knew. 

“And…” it’s as if something snaps in the air on the telephone line, pushing both you and Jenna’s inhibitions to the ground. “I wish you were here,” she whispers, the cliche line sending equally cliche butterflies rushing through your lower stomach. “I’d be on my knees for your cock right now, and you’d pull my hair, so I’d-” she whines, a small and breathless noise-“suck it so good ‘cause I know where it’s going next—”

“Fingers in your mouth,” you interrupt, blood rushing in your ears. “And listen to me.” If you’d let Jenna keep going, you might’ve just booked a plane ticket right then and there. You can hear her obey you through the speaker, moaning softly. “Play with your nipples under your shirt. Be gentle.” It’s a warning, you know she knows, and a reminder that you control her pace.

“Mmm,” she hums, complying. It’s practically confession on bended knee, how her muffled whimper makes something shoot through your lower stomach.

“Press down on your tongue.” You hear her breath shaking, right in your ear. It makes you bite your tongue to keep from moaning out loud. “Don’t gag, don’t be greedy, Jenna.” She whines around her fingers, and you know her telltale little cry as she touches herself as instructed. You can hear that she’s not being as gentle as you wanted, but you had always been weak for your girl.

“You wanna put on a show for me, honey? Twist.” You wouldn’t know it, but Jenna instantly closes her eyes at the word show, her pulse spiking.

Jenna’s uneven breaths are pure song to you through the speaker, and it puts your every nerve on edge, remembering how she would sprawl on your sheets, just like how you were now, happy to be over or under you. She’s so vocal tonight, every exhale coming out with a small oh, and it makes you wonder if it’s because of something more than just the distance and time between you two.

The cadence of her breathing matches your stuttering heart. “For someone that likes having her mouth stuffed,” you mutter, “you sure wanna talk real bad.”

The whimper Jenna lets out is enough of an answer.

“Alright babydoll, you can take your fingers out.” Almost immediately, you can hear her panting. You keep your voice even, despite the heat on your cheeks. “I bet you’re soaked, aren’t you?”

Her voice is raspy when she speaks. “I am…”

“Two fingers in your cunt.”

“What about-” you can hear her swallow- “what about my underwear?”

“Push it to the side,” you say, dismissive. You could practically see Jenna like this, warm brown hair splayed on the pillows, shirt rucked up to her breasts, with enough want to end a war.

It’s silent on the other side of the line, save for the shallow breaths you hear her taking. “Are you waiting, good girl?”

She hums an affirmative. 

“Go ahead, I won’t make you beg right now,” you say with a nonchalance you absolutely do not have, “fuck yourself.”

Her breathy laugh in response would drive a saint to sin, and she’s only all too eager to comply. Jenna’s shudder comes out in her moan as she shoves two fingers in herself, shameless in her need.

You close your eyes, her quiet little moan telling you all you need to know. The impatient groan she gives you is just vulnerable enough to be desperate, and it makes your head swim.

Jenna’s voice is small. “You know…”

“What is it, darling?”

“Wish I could put this on a camera for you, baby,” she whines, breath hitching. “Wish you could watch me right now.”

The mere thought of it is enough to have you biting your lip, hard enough to bleed. With the way that Jenna loved to perform, the idea had occurred to you before, but you were always too hesitant to bring it up. “You want me to see you, don’t you? Blushing and wanting all by yourself,” you mock, your arousal overriding your rationality, “you need someone to fuck you, is that it?”

“I need you to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I don’t remember it all, and,” her voice breaks, “you’ll make me watch our video later, to make me like this again.” You close your eyes again, your knuckles growing white around the sheets fisted in your hand. 

“Like what, Jenna?”

“Messy, and-” her voice climbs higher with a gasp-“needy.”

The words cling in your mind, ivy on a terrace. It only takes half a moment for your mind to conjure her up again, flushed cheeks and two fingers deep in her pussy, framed by red lace.

“Is that what you are, mmm?”

She gives a moan, and you laugh because she’s embarrassed. It’s nearly pathetic, how bad you wish you could see Jenna’s face.

“Want…” There’s a hesitant pause. “Want your hand around my throat, too.”

God, no one knew how to play you quite like Jenna did. “Jenna,” you groan, your facade rapidly crumbling, “you’d look so pretty like that, baby.”

“Yeah,” Jenna agrees mindlessly, “I like it ‘cause…” her voice is strained in a way that you just know she has her head thrown back, strong and delicate, “you’re so gentle.” It’s with a bleeding intimacy that momentarily makes you forget you’re thousands of miles away from Jenna, and the only thing you can think of is her warm eyes on yours, just begging for you to touch her.

She quiets down, and in the damning silence that follows, you hear her fucking herself. And because you know your girl, you know she wants you to hear.

“That’s filthy, Jen,” you say, matter-of-factly. It makes your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“I know,” she whines, and you can hear her going just that bit faster. “Fuck-” she exhales sharply- “I’m—I’m close.”

“Already?”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna whispers, and you know with every hitched moan, she’s hitting that spot inside of her. She’s not sorry, and you certainly aren’t either. “I can’t help it…”

You hum noncommittally, feeling anything but. “Don’t come until I say, alright?”

Jenna moans right into the receiver, and you can tell she’s frustrated to high hell. You laugh lowly, something cruel, and it only serves to fuel the way your fingers crave the smooth of her skin, how your tongue wants for her taste.

But that’s when you hear it, blazing through the fog in your mind, of brown eyes and pink lips. “Please…”

“Please what?”

She falters, breathing ragged. “Please let me…” A beat.

“Let you…?” You press on. 

“Please,” her voice edges on the right side of desperate, the side that makes all of you pulse. “Baby, I’m so close…”

“I know,” you say simply. 

There’s a silence that hangs in the air, and you know without seeing that Jenna’s cheeks are so red with her embarrassment that you could’ve slapped her and not gotten that same glow. You wait, patiently, nails biting into your skin.

“Let me come, please.” Her voice comes out like a quiet sob, resistance broken by her desire.

Letting out a long breath, you press the phone harder to your ear, feeling your fingers tremble. “You’re such a needy slut, Jenna.” She whines again, pleading and keening.

“I know,” she’s soft with it, “I am… so, please?”

You bite your lip, mind swimming, letting her plea hang in the air. 

“Come for me, Jenna.”

It's quiet, at first, and then you hear it—a soft, little ah from where she’s clapped a hand over her mouth, and then muffled moans spilling out from behind as she tries so desperately to not let anyone else hear. You clench your jaw, wanting so bad to tear Jenna’s hand from her mouth just so you can take in every little whimper, quiet her with your mouth instead. But you whisper praises into the phone instead, coaxing her through her orgasm. She comes hard, you can hear it in the way she pants after she’s calmed down.

Jenna’s breathing evens out, and you know it before she does—she’s asleep. Your eyes close again, fist clenched in your bedsheets. It wasn’t the first time that she’d fallen asleep right after she came, and it makes a soft little grin play on your lips. The other end of the line is a loving, sated silence. You keep your voice low, not wanting to wake her.

“God, the things I’m gonna do to you, Jenna.”

--

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #fanfiction #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega smut #smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader smut #reader insert #self insert #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega fanfiction #jenna ortega fic #lgbtq #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #how can I snooze and miss the moment you’re just too important #tara carpenter x reader

[kayjayjwrites]

Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 6,350

Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie

Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!

Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~

It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.

Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.

They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.

It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.

Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle. It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.

Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.

Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.

You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.

The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.

It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.

You would take the job.

Not to be a spy for Kier.

Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.

It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.

But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.

However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.

It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.

That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.

You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.

It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a couple years into your career.

The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.

Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.

Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.

When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.

And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.

Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.

When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.

Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.

And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.

Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”

Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”

“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”

The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”

“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”

Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”

You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”

You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”

You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.

“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.

If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.

“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.

Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.

XxXx

Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.

Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.

The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.

“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.

But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”

“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”

You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.

“You forgot your bag.” He observed.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”

“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.

“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”

If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.

Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.

You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.

“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”

He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”

His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.

Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?

Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.

He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?

“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.

Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.

A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”

“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.

Subtle.

Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.

What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.

And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.

So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.

Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.

Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.

Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over two years of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.

So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over him.

You know, simple.

The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.

Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.

Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.

He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?

Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.

"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.

You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.

Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.

It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.

Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.

It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.

You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.

He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.

Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.

Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.

Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.

Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.

He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.

Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.

Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.

Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remains.

Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”

Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!

He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"

Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.

You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.

Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.

"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.

"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.

"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.

He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."

You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.

Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.

He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”

You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.

"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.

You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.

The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.

You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.

"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"

"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.

You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."

Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.

Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.

And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.

And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.

XxXx

Next Chapter

#azriel x reader #acotar #azriel x you #friends to lovers #slow burn #one bed trope #one shot #one shot series #azriel #my writing #kayjaywrites #like bugs in a rug

[spyder-junkie]

Hobie Brown/Spiderpunk NSFW alphabet

____________________________________________

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Hobie does the usual after sex has calmed down (wiping you off, getting you to bed, running you a bath, getting you a water)

It makes him feel manly to be able to take care of you when your brain is all mushy.

BUT

He would absolutely melt if once and a while you took care of him after sex. Dab his brow with a towel, place kisses on his face as you assure him he can stay in bed, bring him water and cuddle up to him as he sleeps.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Hobie loves his hands, it’s something about being able to abolish the system, beat bad guys, play great music with his fingers AND being able to make you cum all over his hands that gets him excited.

Hobie also loves your hips, no matter what they look like. He’ll pull you to his side by your hip in public, or draw patterns on them with his fingers while giving you backshots. Sometimes he’ll lay his head on your lower stomach and press little kisses to your hips.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He strongly prefers to cum IN you rather than ON you.

He’s the type to cum in you, then take his fingers and push the cum back in as it leaks out.

But if thats not an option, he’ll gladly cum on your face. Just seeing your cheeks and lips slick with his cum gets him hard again immediately.

“God your beautiful, open your mouth for me sweetheart.”

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Touch his nipples!!!

He got them pierced a while back and they’re sooooo sensitive. When hes stroking his dick for you one of his hands will trail up his chest and slowly circle one of his nipples. His eyebrows will get all furrowed, his hips bucking into his hand. Thats just a good way to get him to cum quick.

Maybe one day he’s got you pinned up against a wall, drilling you. And instead of latching onto his neck, you wrap your lips around his nipple and suck lightly. His hips will immediately go still, his eyes screwing shut as a loud groan crawls out of his throat. He’ll cum right there, hunched over your body with you in his arms. And now he’s embarrassed because he didn’t get you off first, but how could you be upset when he looked and sounded so nice?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Hobie understands the body, period.

He’s had several hookups, male and female, before you, just nothing romantic.

He’s a hands on learner and he’s had a lot of hands on experience, so trust he will make your first time with him worth while.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything where he can get as deep as possible and you cant run. (consensually of course)

Mating press has him in a chokehold. He likes that he can get his dick as far into you as he can while also holding you down with his own body so you cant do anything but take it. (yes he does like overstimulation.)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s never too serious about anything, he’s a spiderman. With that being said he’s pretty humorous in bed. He likes making jokes to tease you, he especially loves mimicking your moans inna high-pitched shrill voice then laughing at your unamused face.

Dont mock him though, he’ll stuff your mouth with his fingers (or his dick) so you cant crack anymore jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He shaves himself carefully so the hair is low around his actual dick. He has a very neat happy trail that he loves. He also shaves his balls, not by anyone’s request, he just likes it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

His eyes are almost heart shaped when he looks at you during sex. He’s never enjoyed it more with any other person.

He’ll rub your body affectionately, whisper sweet things to you. Especially if he’s about to cum. If you tell him you love him while he’s in it, he’ll cum on the spot.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesnt do it often at all, finds it a waste of his time to touch himself if you’re not touching him.

But he will do it upon request. Maybe he’s out being spiderman and cant come see you that night, he will absolutely duck into an alley way and pull his suit and pants down to send his partner a video of him stroking it.

“I miss you baby.” He mumbled under his breath, running his thumb over the slit of his tip. His other hand is holding the phone, Hobie trying his best not to shake.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Orgasm denial

Sit him down and stroke him. Promise him you’re gonna let him cum and talk all this big shit until his dick starts twitching in your hands, then pull away at the last minute. Then start the process all over again. He’ll get so desperate that he will BEG you to let him cum. Bonus points if you tie his hands up. Bonus bonus if you use his webs.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Hobie feels pride in fucking you in the most inappropriate places possible. Top of a building, backstage at a concert, on a balcony, he’ll do it all. And if you’re a spider person too, he’s definitely successfully fucked you on Miguel’s moving platform thing.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing his parter show no regard for rules (within reason) is one of his biggest turn-on, its the anarchist in him. Pirating movies, keeping pets in your apartment when you shouldn’t, or stealing little things from franchises he knows are corrupt. One time he bent you over in the back of a Hobby lobby because you pocketed a couple items.

Also seeing you in his clothes gets him going really fast. Seeing his partner in a alternative sub cultures in general gets him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wont hit you. He might slap your ass or something similar, but he wont hit you near the face. He’s against choking too, it just makes him feel weird. If he’s drilling you particularly hard, he might grab your face, like his hand holding your cheek/chin, but never your neck.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Hobie is a giver!!! I firmly believe he gets his tongue pierced JUST so he can give you head with more efficiency. He’ll hold you down and go to town for hours.

But he does love receiving too. He likes his bj’s real slow and attentive. He likes when you run your tongue up and down the shaft slowly, taking him in your mouth with care. Really take your time with him and he’ll cum hard.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

That depends on the mood he’s in. Usually he’s more focused on getting deep then going fast, unless you tell him to speed up. If he’s had a particularly rough day, He might pick up the pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s a spiderman, and he likes having his cake and eating it too, meaning he’ll fuck you whenever and however he can. He gets especially turned on when he has to keep his hand clasped over your mouth while he’s fucking you.

“Sh sh sh, you’re doing so good, stay quiet for me.”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like I said before he loves the risk of trying not to get caught, more so because he likes seeing the fear in your eyes, his spidey senses keep him on top of when people are walking by, but you dont have that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go 4 or 5 before his dick starts to get too sensitive. He’ll get a little whoozy and whiney after that. If you keep pushing him to overstimulation he’ll get really loud and shaky.

The question then becomes whether you can actually get him to cum again. He quite possibly might start shooting blanks or pass out all together.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own a single toy. He doesn’t see the need to before or after he meets you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He LOVES to tease you. He’ll make you ask for what you want, crack jokes, mimic your moans. He loves the reactions he gets from you.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He asked, curling his fingers inside of you.

“Yeah yeah yes~“ you moan, eyes shut and jaw slack.

“Yeah? Yeah?” He mimics, horribly recreating your tone. He smiles as the way you open your eyes in a glare.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans a lot, like deep in his chest guttural groans right in your ear. He isn’t super loud unless your overstimulating or edging him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves to talk. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing sexually, Hobie will talk during it. The only reason why you wont mind it is because he does it well.

“Y’ look so pretty taking my dick like that.”

“Louder, I want to hear you.”

“Fuck, you keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna cum~”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Comic book Hobie isnt that tall, but Spiderverse Hobie is huge. I hc his dick is longer than it is thick, maybe 7.5 inches.

He’s a shower not a grower, one of the reasons why his spiderpunk suit has pants.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s on go at almost any time of the day. Give him some time in between to recuperate and he’ll fuck you a couple times a day if you’re up to it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Hobie gets up immediately after sex to take care of you because if he doesn’t, he’ll fall straight asleep. He falls asleep so quickly after sex that he’s almost embarrassed about it.

One time he was hitting it in missionary and the two of you had cum together. He pressed his face in the crook of your neck as he came and the two of you sat together in silence for a while after. At least thats what you thought. Once you pushed on his shoulder to get him to pull out, you realized he was fast asleep.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown smut #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderpunk smut #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader

[jujutsubaby]

🫧 skin care daddy 🫧

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: your skin's been breaking out recently and you're stressed at work and you have your sister's wedding to attend in a week. according to the internet, this is the best spa in town, and you're lowkey desperate at this point...it can't be that bad right? ☆ tags: modern au ☆ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!recieving), facial, dirty talk, fingering, flicking the bean?? idk ☆ a/n: guys i swear i am cooking in the kitchen with the asks from my follower event AND other shit OK!! sorry for the wait on everything but here is a little crumb bc i love u all!! i was feeling unhinged bc i saw two things: 1) a spa called skin care daddy and 2) a post or one shot where the reader got a facial from gojo and it cleared her skin. idk i just felt inspired to make this bc it felt the universe was asking me to. not proofread some plot with corn u know the vibes babes xx ☆ word count: 7k+

"sorry, we're all booked for this weekend and the next. we usually recommend that our customers book 3 weeks in advance for our services at the ritz carlton luxury spa." the lady on the other end of the line was objectively speaking very politely, but you were far too frustrated with your situation to notice.

"great, yeah, no, thanks." you say quickly, hanging up the phone and groaning into your pillow.

"no luck at the ritz?" you turn to face your best friend, nobara.

"they're all booked, what a surprise!" you say sarcastically, your voice still slightly muffled by the pillow.

"i mean, c'mon, y/n. your face is not that bad..." nobara tries and deeply fails to comfort you, making you chuckle half heartedly.

you get up from your bed and walk over to the full body mirror of your closet in order to get up close and personal with your face. your fingers stretch on the skin around your breakouts as you study them with determination, as if just willing them to be gone will do the trick. it doesn't.

"it's bad enough that all the aunties will say something snarky to me all day."

you're usually one to always follow through on your skincare routine, am and pm, and watch what you eat carefully so that you don't get breakouts. but you recently went through a rough patch (read: a hellish period) and your face took the brunt of the damage. it wasn't your fault you were having massive cramps and craved hot cheetos the entire week (it was so worth it) but now, a week before your sister's wedding, you're facing the consequences.

you sigh. the ritz was the fifth place you guys called that didn't have any space for an all day facial, but you couldn't run out of hope. back to the drawing board.

you open up your laptop and get back to searching on google maps, as nobara does the same thing. you're grateful she's helping you out during your, albeit, dumb crisis, but what are girl friendships for? a spa you've never heard of before suddenly catches your eye and you zoom in. skin care daddy? you read the finer print underneath it. best day spa in tokyo.

you snort. best day spa in tokyo my ass. if it really was the best day spa in tokyo, why have you never heard of it?

nobara laughs, almost on cue. "wait, dude, are you seeing this spa?" she turns her phone around and you see she's also looking at skin care daddy. "this has to be a joke, right? no way would they be allowed to open up a spa named that, right?"

"ohmygod, i was just looking at that!" you say excitedly. "it literally sounds like a sex bot made it for unsuspecting horny losers to click on and get like, a crazy virus." you both laugh at how ridiculous this place sounds.

nobara's laugh almost abruptly stops as she scrolls down the place. "wait, stop. this place has like...over ten thousand reviews and a 4.9 star rating..."

you immediately click on the place and take a closer look at the reviews and ratings and see she's right. "i don't think i've ever seen a place have this many reviews with consistent ratings?" your brows scrunch as you read aloud some of the top reviews.

"this spa has given me the some of the best facials of my life. i always come to this spa whenever i'm in the area, and the people working there are obsessed with taking care of their customers. 10/10" you're baffled by the review sounding so...weird but you think nothing of it. you make a mental note that you are kinda desperately looking for a miracle facial to help with your breakouts, so maybe you shouldn't count this place out just yet.

nobara half heartedly scoffs as she reads the next one. "i've had chronic acne and back pain for years until i saw someone from here who made me feel soo good. you'll be coming here all the time once you go. maybe even multiple times a day."

"how good can this place be if you have to go multiple times to make sure your spa treatment worked?" you say, rolling your eyes at these reviews. "these can't be real right?"

"they sound incentivized or like someone paid them to write it or somethin'" nobara surmises.

"maybe it's a cult or something," you say, causing both of you to double over in laughter.

"a cult disguised as a spa is a bit too insane, even for tokyo." nobara says as she scrolls through and skims more reviews. "aren't you looking for a facial anyway? everyone's saying they're really good here...you know...despite the..." she gestures with her hands the reviews on her phone.

"ugh, am i for real that desperate for clear skin that i'm willing to go to a shady ass day spa?" you roll on to your back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, contemplating.

"can't be that shady if it's ten thousand reviews. say what you want but that's a lot of reviews to pay money for."

nobara has a point. you grab your laptop and try to look for a link to their website and see they don't have a website. interesting. not a red flag but just interesting. maybe i have to call for bookings? you search for a phone number, but fail to find one.

"wait, are you able to find any contact for this spa?" you ask noabra and you see her squinting her eyes at the phone.

"no i wasn't but i saw a review that basically said this spa is a walk-in type of deal?"

"it's a walk-in but has thousands of reviews? how does that even work? people are probably waiting years in line to get in?"

"dunno," nobara shrugs, and puts her phone back in her pocket. "maybe it's like a 'if-you-know-you-know' type of thing so it's like popular through word of mouth of somethin'"

damn. even more shady, then. you chew on your lip and stare at the ceiling again, trying to imagine all the things your aunties will say to you at the wedding.

"27 and still unmarried? shame."

"oh, you really need to watch your diet, the breakouts will never go away otherwise."

"clear skin is the first step to find a man who will desire you, y/n."

you feel like your skin is burning thinking about the so-called "advice" you're likely to receive at the wedding. normally you wouldn't care, but your hormones have been kind of out of wack with the new birth control you started recently, and you're not sure if you can really take any form of bullshit other than your sister's this weekend.

your thoughts are interrupted by nobara getting up from your chair. "alright, i'm off to work. need a ride to skin care daddy?"

"yeah, actually," you say as you slowly get out of your bed and change our of your pajamas.

"wait, what?!" nobara says with wide eyes. "i was actually joking when i said that. are you seriously gonna go? y/n, i dunno about this one..."

"c'mon! it's like you said, it's weird but it's not necessarily shady..." you say, mostly trying to convince yourself as you put on a pair of your favorite lazy girl black flared yoga pants.

nobara seems to consider it for a moment before responding. "kay, fine. but if i take you there and it's some abandoned warehouse-"

"then we'll drive away. no way in hell i'm about to die for this place." you assure nobara, putting her at ease.

you quickly don a thrifted gray hoodie and put your hair up in a messy bun. you don't care to put on any makeup, since you're probably gonna have to take it off anyway. if the day spa isn't shady and in an abandoned warehouse.

you quickly grab your keys and wallet before gesturing to nobara to leave. she sighs, looking at her phone one more time.

"fuck it, let's go before i change my mind."

"okay it says it's just right around the corn-"

"OH MY GOD?!" you're unable to hold back your disbelief as nobara took the corner to, what you think, might the chicest and prettiest boutique you've ever laid eyes on. the front was adorned with a gorgeous light blue awning with european style bell-shaped pendant lights making it almost glow during the day time.

"what the hell...ain't no way..." noabra is at a loss for words for how fancy it looks. "they have the money to rent out a place like this but no website?"

"or have a phone number." you mumble as you open nobara's car door. you turn around and give her a quick wave. she tells you to give her a call and tell her how it is after and you promise to do so. as nobara drives off, all the skepticism evaporates from your body looking at the dainty and cute decor all over the place.

you walk in to a fairly large lobby, with a desk in the middle and waiting chairs surrounding it. the calming scent of lavender, green tea, and patchouli hits your nose, and your guard immediately drops; the aroma relaxes you almost instantly.

you look around and are surprised to see only two other women in the waiting chairs on their phone. one of them seemed older, kind of like a mother, and the other seemed to be your age, but far more demure.

"hey, there! welcome to skin care daddy! we're determined to take care of you all your needs, no matter what! how can i help you today?" your head whips around to the guy sitting at the reception desk, and you feel a bit embarrassed; he must've noticed how lost you looked here, and you force yourself to straighten up and regain your composure as you slowly walk to the front desk. you take a closer at the guy with shaggy black hair sitting in the chair in front of you.

"hi..." you squint to see the faint print on his name badge. "yuta".

"yup! that's me!" he chirps. you know he probably has to exaggerate his good mood for the sake of the job but it kind of irks you. "what can i do for you today, miss?"

"yeah, uhh...what services do you guys offer? i tried looking online but you guys didn't have a website and..." your wandering eyes can't help but look around skeptically around the front desk and the doors on either side of the lobby.

"well, we offer whatever you need, miss. just tell us what you're looking for and we'll have it. i guarantee it."

"okay, well. my sister's getting married next weekend and..." you gesture to your face. "my life has been all sorts of stressful and hormonal so honestly, i'm just looking for something that can help me feel refreshed-"

you're interrupted by someone entering in from the right side of the lobby door. it's a woman who, you must say, looks glowing. her skin is bright and she quite looks like she's almost levitating. guiding her out of the spa is a young man, around your age, with blond hair and round glasses. he's unbelievably built, with strong hands rubbing her back softly and a chiseled jaw. he's wearing what you think is the uniform of this place: white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks.

your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily. no fucking way. this guy works here? he's so fucking...hot. you have to force your eyes to tear away from him as you try your hardest to focus back on your conversation with yuta.

yuta chuckles as he follows your gaze. "ah, yes, mr. nanami is a customer favorite esthetician here. anyway, seems like you're going through a rough time and you came to the perfect place! normally, i would recommend the oxygen facial, but since you said you have a wedding..." yuta types something on the computer for a bit. "personally, i would recommend the full body tokyo special."

you're not entirely what an oxygen facial is, nor what the tokyo special is, and you feel even more stupid asking this guy who seems to be in college for more information.

"um, sorry, what's a full body tokyo special? i think i just need a really good facial."

"oh no worries, miss. i apologize. the full body tokyo special consists of a hands-on full body aromatherapy massage and our famous milkbomb facial, which'll do wonders for your skin." he winks at you. why did he wink at you?

you're unable to think about whether or not you even wanna do anything here when a group of men barge in through the left door of the lobby, laughing loudly, before lowering their voices.

one of the men is a dark haired man, seemingly a little older than the other two and yourself, but also very much ripped just like mr. nanami. you tried not to stare at the skin tight black shirt he wore that attenuated his pecs but miserably failed. he took the quickest glance at you and gave the faintest smile, revealing a slight scar on the left side of his lip. a scar that makes him sexier? you've gotta be kidding me. you follow his gaze to the older woman you saw sitting here when you came in, who know looks completely enamored by the man.

"there's my favorite mama," the man coos, holding an arm out for her as she skipped to him. he leads her to the other door, and you could hear them giggling and talking, as if this wasn't the first time they've seen each other.

"aight, see ya later, man." the other dark haired man said to his friend, before making eye contact with you, and then giving a slight smirk to yuta. he heads straight to the demure girl you saw when you walked in, and holds his hand out to her and she blushes and grabs it.

"th-thanks for seeing me again, geto-san." the girl says so softly that you have to strain your ears to listen.

"i told you to call me suguru..." you hear him joke as they disappear behind the door.

"like what you see?" you turn your head to the last guy, who now is far too close for your liking. you take a small step back, which makes him chuckle.

"yuta-kun! who do we have here?" the man asks boisterously. despite being indoors, he's wearing dark circled sunglasses. what a douche.

"oh, hey gojo-sensei. this is..." yuta looks at you, waiting for you to say your name.

"y/n." you say a bit too late, still trying to process the barrage of attractive men that just showed up all at once and what they had to do with the spa.

yuta starts filling in the man about what you were looking for, as you take in the man who's intently listening to him. he has white hair, and is wearing the same uniform as mr. nanami was, with three buttons undone and his hair slightly disheveled. he's also really tall. like really tall. like he towers over you easily tall. but also, just as well built like everyone else.

what is this place? you knew men could work in salons and parlors and spas, but this place seemed to be exclusively run by them. and not just any men, really attractive men. and what's worse is that you were not complaining. sure, it's a bit weird but there's really no other choice for you at this point.

"ahh, the tokyo special, huh?" he says, turning at you and giving you a bright smile which you suspect he gives to everyone who comes in here. "nice choice."

"he's the one who chose it, and i'm not even sure if i want it." you say, pointing to yuta, and trying your hardest to stand your ground. you have to really make sure this spa treatment is actually gonna help and not just a scam for your money.

"well, he chose right. i've never seen you here before, so you must be new here, right?" you nod, suddenly feeling really small and embarrassed about your attitude before. god, you're never one to behave badly in front of service workers. the hormones are really doing a number on your mood. maybe you could benefit from this "tokyo special".

he leans down to meet your eyes and takes off his sunglasses, and you’re face to face with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes you've ever seen. through an almost hypnotic effect, you feel much calmer than you did before, and more trusting of him. "well, lucky for you, i've got an opening right now. i'll help you feel right at home." he gives you a wink, and you can't help but feel there's some other hidden meaning behind what he says.

"umm...well..." you say, holding on to the thin strings of your resolve.

"gojo-sensei is the best masseuse and esthetician here, especially for first timers like yourself, miss y/n. i guarantee you'll leave the establishment more than satisfied with his work." yuta assures you with a smile.

and with that, your resolve completely dissolves and you nod and hand him your credit card and he takes the information. gojo touches the small of your back ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn't feel you shiver at his touch.

"he just loves kissing up to me so he can get a full time job here after college. i'm his favorite cousin, after all." he says, making you giggle as you walk through the two panel doors into the spa.

"thanks for taking me in during your opening, mr. gojo." you say politely, feeling grateful as he leads you down the corridor of the neat, clean, and minimally decorated hallway.

"i think you're gonna be the one taking me in," gojo mumbles under his breath while opening the door to a room that looked like a doctor's office. a single lavender massage table greets you with small cabinets on either side.

you're unable to catch what he said. "what? did you say something?"

"i said call me satoru. no need to get so formal with me, i'm just some dude who works here." he chuckles. he locks the door as you sit up on the massage table awkwardly, unsure of how you should be positioning yourself or what exactly he was planning.

gojo goes to the corner and pulls out a fluffy white bathrobe and hands it to you. you're blown away by how soft it feels in your hands -- luxury at it's finest, you guess.

"okay, i just have a quick questionnaire i need you to fill out, probably will take around a minute," he says, as he grabs a clipboard with a pen attached to it from another drawer and takes a seat on a padded lab stool. he rolls closer to you until his long slender legs are almost touching your calves.

"alrighty here...okay, first question…” the questions gojo reads off are normal enough, with various clauses consenting to the spa treatment, confirming your age, and so forth. they don’t start getting weird until later. “ok last three, we’re almost done.” you notice a shit-eating grin on his face as he scribbles your answer to the previous question. “okay, are you a virgin?”

“what?!” 

“are you a virg-”

“i heard you the first time. what kinda question is that? that’s so invasive, what the hell are you play-” you’re ready to give an entire speech to this guy about how inappropriate and irrelevant the question is. 

“it’s fine if you don’t wanna answer it, i just can’t continue the treatment if you don’t.” gojo says this so simply and nonchalantly, as if the question was about your favorite color, and not an intimate detail about your sexuality. 

“okay, fine. not a virgin.” you cross your hands in irritation. 

“not…a...virgin…” you hear him say under his breath as he scribbles something you cannot see on his clipboard. you try leaning forward to see what he’s writing (and if there really was a question like that on the questionnaire but he quickly pulls it closer to his chest, giving you a teasing smirk. “are you on birth control?”

“y-yes?” 

“good to know. last question: got any STDs i need to know about?”

oh, for fuck’s sake. this is ridiculous. does he think you’ve never been to a spa before? the usual thai place you go to never asks this many questions. “do you have any STDs i need to worry about? what is this? 20 questions?”

“you can ask them to me back, i’d be happy to answer them.” he says calmly with a coy smile. “in fact, i’ll answer them right now. no, no, and no.”

you sign in defeat. “no for me too.” maybe this is what happens when a place has like, ten thousand 5 star reviews on google maps. they just ask the weirdest questions. there’s a small voice berating yourself for folding so easily regarding his questions, but whatever. you’re ready to get this treatment over with. 

“okay, take off all your clothes and wear the bathrobe. do you want me to step outside?”

what the hell kinda question is that? of course, he’s supposed to step outside? “um, yeah?” you say it almost obviously, not feeling bad about the attitude that’s coming out of you. 

gojo raises his hand in surrender. “sorry, just askin’...” he grabs his clipboard and steps out of the room, saying he’ll be back in five minutes for the warm up massage. you quickly undress yourself. you have a feeling he’s the type to come in within seconds of knocking on the door without checking to see if you’re decent. you’re unsure where to place your clothes other than the table next to the cabinet so you neatly fold them, hiding your underwear and bra within the folds of your yoga pants and sweatshirt. 

just as promised, gojo shows up five minutes later with one knock before welcoming himself in. he’s holding a dark colored glass bottle filled with a calming essential oil for massaging, and turns on the diffuser in the room. 

“thanks for undressing,” he says, looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. “alright, here’s how this is gonna go. i’m gonna give you a nice full body massage to loosen your muscles up, and then we do the facial last, sound good, princess?” 

your skin tingles at him calling you that nickname, but you ignore it. there’s no way i can let my mind wander like that when he’s giving me a massage. you nod your head in agreement, and lay on your back slowly, fidgeting with the ends of  your bathrobe so that you’re not totally exposed to him. gojo slowly hovers his hands over you and lightly touches your stomach, patting it to get your attention, but it causes you suck in a breath a bit too loudly. 

“gotta go on your stomach for me for this one,” he says, urging you to flip around. “gonna undo this, okay?” he tugs at the knot you made on your bathrobe and you nod. he slowly undoes it, and you feel exposed as your breasts peek out through the sides. you cross your legs almost immediately, feeling incredibly exposed in front of a fully clothed gojo. 

you quickly turn on your stomach before he has a chance to take in your body. you feel his cold fingers slowly expose your back, as he stops right before the hump of your ass. you hear him squeezing out some of the oil and warming it up in his hands as he gets to work on your back. 

you suck in a sharp breath between your teeth as his cold fingers explore the knots on your back. 

“cold isn’t it? you’ll get used to my fingers, promise,” he says sweetly, as he hits a spot on your back that’s been particularly bothering you as of late. it’s too late when you let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “hit the right spot, didn’t i?”

he continues to undo the knot on your back, and moan back a breathy affirmation as you continue to try (and fail) to hold back your noises. “f-fuck, gojo, that feels s-so good…” you say in between his movements. 

you feel his hot breath in your ear. “told ya to call me satoru, don’t forget it next time, princess.” this time, the nickname goes straight to your pussy. it’s hard to cross your legs when you’re on your stomach and feeling delirious with the pleasure that came from the pressure of his slender fingers. 

unbeknownst you, your soft moans are slowly making their way down to gojo’s member, as he gets harder by the second. he doesn’t want to make it so obvious just yet – he’s just getting start after all. he can’t just blow his load this close into the session, but you’re sure as hell giving him a run for his money. 

“feel good?” you moan in response. gojo slowly inches his fingers down closer and closer to your ass, until it reaches the hem of your bathrobe covering it. “gonna move this down so i can do your legs, yeah?”

gojo will admit, he was a bit too excited to see your ass as he removed your bathrobe down before you could give a proper “yes” but it didn’t matter when you’re soft breaths were giving him the answer he needed. it takes everything in him to not knead the rounds of your perfect ass (he swears your cheeks were made for his hands) and move straight to your calves. 

he slowly massages the soles of your feet and calves with the oil as he moves closer to your thighs, all while relishing in your sweet moans. once he’s at your thighs, the real fun begins. gojo knows this routine like the back of his hands. 

you hear him sigh in confusion. “is everything okay?” you turn your head slightly to see him. 

“sorry about this princess, but you’re gonna have to spread your legs a little bit for me. it’s hard to get every inch of you warmed up, otherwise.”

you obey him almost too easily, and shift your thighs so that there’s more room for him to touch with his fingers. gojo’s hands reach up to slightly cup your ass, before his thumbs slowly slide into your inner thigh, lightly massaging you.

your breaths are getting shallower and louder, and you pray he doesn't go any closer to your pussy so he doesn’t see how soaked you are. you’ve never had a massage like this before, but you also don’t want him to stop. 

gojo’s fingers play with the space of your inner thigh before he spreads you apart, exposing you. you breath catches in your throat, and he performs the next part of his act. 

“we’ve got a pretty unconventional way of massaging our clients, princess.” you hear his voice straining. “gotta make sure you’re relaxed everywhere, but you gotta let me take care of you. think you can do that? all you have to do is relax, and let daddy do everything for you.” you can hear the lust dripping from his voice, but to be honest, you couldn’t give a shit at this point. 

“y-yeah, please, satoru, whatever you want. please, i just…i just feel so good right now,” you say, your eyes shut tight, and your hips practically squirming under his touch. you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you there in the next second. 

hook, line, and sinker. who’s gojo to deny your request? he graduated top of his class at his cosmetology and esthetician university, after all. his fingers glide almost too easily between your folds as he starts playing with your throbbing core. he can feel how needy your pussy is for his hands as he spreads your slick all over your core. 

the pleasure immediately gets caught in the pillow that muffles your moans. fuck, so this is what all the reviews were talking about. you feel his fingertips dancing around your clit and you want to shout at him to pay attention to it. 

“s-satoru~ p-please…i need you right there…” you say in between your moans. 

“where? here?” gojo’s finger taps your clit lightly, and it makes your entire body twitch with pleasure. he has to press down on the small of your back to keep you place as his fingers rub circles around your bundle of nerves, making you whimper. you unconsciously grind your hips against his fingers, trying to get close to your release. 

“need a better angle. face down, ass up.” gojo commands, and your body conforms to his words. you prop your lower body up with your knees while your face is sideways against the head of the massage table. he uses this now better angle to really rub his fingers into your folds and bundle of nerves, sending electricity throughout your body. you feel the dam building up inside you and threatening to break. 

“satoru~ i’m-i’m getting c-close…ah~” you hands grip on to the sides of the massage table as you brace for the earth shattering orgasm to rip through you, and with gojo’s deft fingers, you’re on cloud nine in no time. 

your body slumps back down and your eyes roll back as the vibrations of your release still radiate through your body. you hear  your pulse pumping through your head as you try to catch you breath, but you feel gojo’s now warm hands flip you on your back, and his face inches from yours. 

“you took that so well, princess. we’re not done, yet. there’s still another part of your body that needs to warm up.” you don’t have time to process what he means as he inserts two fingers into his mouth and then deep inside your entrance. your gasp is muffled by his mouth connecting to yours, hard, teeth and all. his fingers are long, and they easily find your sensitive g-spot as they curl upwards and bully your internal bundle of nerves. it’s quite embarrassing how quickly you’re ready for another release, and how hungry your entrance was for his finger, practically sucking them in and clenching around them immediately. 

“f-fuck~ i’m about to-” you don’t get to finish your sentence, as another orgasm rips through your body. gojo kisses you again to block your moans, and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him even closer to you. he playfully bites on your lower lip as you ride out your release on his fingers. 

gojo’s kisses turn into soft quick pecks as your breathing steadies and your eyes can focus again. “we’re not done yet,” he teases, slowly taking his slick coated fingers out of you. 

you don’t even have the energy to respond back as he flips you on you back. through heavy eyes, you look back up at him, biting back a moan as he restarts rubbing circles on your extremely sensitive clit. he needs to take off his shirt and fuck you already. 

“need something?” gojo teases, sensing your neediness from just your eyes. 

“take off your shirt, dumbass.” you say through gritted teeth. 

“try again.” he presses harder on your clit, and you let out an unsanctioned yelp through your teeth. 

“f-fuck~ please take off your shirt, dumbass.”

he smiles. “well, if you insist…” he rolls his eyes, feigning inconvenience, but the slowly growing tent in his pants says otherwise. gojo unbuttons his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso. now this is just unfair. 

“geez, my eyes are up here.” he teases, smirking at you as you quickly meet his eyes and feel your face flush. he unbuckles his belt and you slowly sit up from the massage table. you’re overcome with the urge to touch him, everywhere. you hook your finger to the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer to you. 

gojo smirks as he wraps his arms around hips and leans down to kiss you deeply. you feel your core ache for his touch again as his tongue explores your mouth again. you trace his perfectly sculpted torso, the indents of his abs slightly sweaty to your touch. your hands slowly make their way to the zipper of his slacks, but gojo immediately grabs your wrist to stop you from taking them fully off. 

“not just yet…” he murmurs in between kisses. while his lips are still locked on you, he slowly pushes your body back on the massage table and starts kissing down your bare stomach, the measly bathrobe long since discarded somewhere on the floor. gojo leaves small wet kisses along your body until he reaches your inner thighs. 

you suck in a breath as you involuntarily spread your legs for him, earning an enthusiastic hum from gojo, who’s still continuing to leave a trail of kisses that are inching closer and closer to where you need his mouth to be the most. “p-please~” you moan, your eyes closed in bliss. 

“please what, princess? use your words,” gojo coos, coming face to face with your soaking wet core. he blows on the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your legs to twitch.

you can’t stand his fucking teasing but you need to be eaten out, so bad. “f-fuck y-you, gojo~” you say, pushing your core up to his face, trying to aim for his mouth before he easily pushes your hips back on the table. you hear him tsk in disapproval, and tears welling up in your eyes in desperation. “please, your tongue…inside me…please~” you whimper weakly. 

“since you begged so nicely…” gojo says before he immediately plunges his tongue inside you, almost making you scream. his tongue expertly explores your folds and sucks on your clit, making you inadvertently grind on his face. “y’taste so delicious, princess,” he says between licks as he eats you out like it’s the last pussy on earth. 

his ministrations with his tongue has you teetering on the edge in record time, and you’re threatening to spill within minutes of him eating you out. as the third wave of pleasure washes over you, you don’t have the energy in you to ask for permission as you feel your body tingle in the aftermath of it. you think you made a mess all over the massage table and gojo’s face, but you don’t have it in you to care as your eyes roll back. 

you feel gojo unbuckle his belt and take off his slack and underwear, exposing his hard member in his hands. you can see the precum leaking out the tip as you weakly lean on your elbows to prop yourself up. 

“see, princess, all those questions did have a reason after all…” he says in between breaths as he strokes himself, looking at your naked glistening body. you spread your legs further in anticipation of feeling him. “but there you were, being such a fuckin’ brat about answering them…” gojo says, eyebrows furrowing as he brings his tip closer to your core and you bite your lip in anticipation. 

“guess you better fuck the attitude outta me, then?” you say, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes filled with mindless lust. you don’t even care about the consequences or who hears or even if you get your facial – you just need him. every part of your body craved him. 

gojo wastes no time at your suggestion, his tip entering you as you let out a lecherous moan. you feel the initial pain of his larger than average member tearing your tight entrance apart, and bite back a moan. gojo grits his teeth as he lets out a steady throaty groan. 

“fuck, princess. so fuckin’ tight. sure you’re not a virgin?” 

“s’too much satoru, y-you’re huge…ahh~” 

“too bad, princess.” he says, surprising you as he starts thrusting agonizingly slowly into you, bottoming out and effectively reaching the sensitive spot inside you. pain slowly turns into pleasure as you indulge in the feeling of your g-spot getting kissed by his member – the spot that you can never reach by yourself using your own fingers.  

“f-faster, please~” you urge gojo, and he obliges almost immediately, quickening his pace. he bullies your sloppy and wet core, as he watches your titties bounce with every thrust. unlike most people his age, it’s times like this where gojo realizes he really fucking loves his job. 

he reaches out and gives your titties a rough squeeze while he remains unrelenting in his pace. he feels your pussy clench around him, and he knows you’re close, and if he’s being honest, so is he. but he cannot cum just yet, and definitely not before you do. gojo abandons your titties and slides down his fingers to your clit as he starts rubbing inelegant circles around it, getting you closer and closer to the edge. 

you feel the dam breaking once again as the combination of him rubbing and fucking you comes to a climax. the orgasm travels to every corner of your body, as you see stars in your vision while gojo fucks your brains out. you hold on to his shoulders to steady yourself. based on how sloppily gojo is getting, you can tell he’s about to get close, too. you’re about to brace for him to finish inside you, when he abruptly pulls out, earning him a confused look from you. 

“lay down,” he commands more than asks, as he hastily pushes your chest down on the massage table. your sweaty skin sticks to the faux leather, but you don’t pay attention as he moves to the side of your face, holding his soaked member near it. 

gojo starts stroking his throbbing leaking member sensually, and you innately open your mouth and stick your tongue out. so this is the facial? the dots connected in your head at the same time gojo’s ropes of warm cum decorated your face – chin, cheeks, mouth, and all. you hear gojo’s throaty groans as he finishes on you and make sure not a single drop that gets on or near mouth gets wasted, swallowing pridefully. 

gojo leans closer to your ear as he catches his breath from his climax. “that’s the milkbomb facial,” he says cheekily, and you can’t help but giggle. you both take a couple more seconds to catch your breath. you watch gojo as he puts on his pants and tucks in his shirt, looking like he didn’t just fuck the shit out of you. he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as he goes to the counter and pulls out a warm eucalyptus towel as he takes his time to gently wipe your face and body. 

“that was fun,” you murmur, looking at the ceiling, finally understanding what the reviews you read about this earlier place meant. you definitely came here, multiple times in one day for sure. 

gojo chuckles as he goes over to wash his hands and you notice his forearms are glistening with your release. “that’s why we’re the best spa out here, princess.”

you notice your legs shaking slightly, but you manage to hop off the massage table, slightly dazed. gojo notices and helps you get on your feet and put on your clothes. the entire activity is soft and gentle compared to how he was just a couple minutes before. 

everything that you both have done in the past hour finally dawns on you, and you suddenly feel very shy despite whatever the contrary happened on the massage table. it’s so awkward now, like, what do you guys even talk about now? does he do this to everyone? is this their entire schtick?

“do you…do this with all your clients?” you whisper to him as you follow him out into the hallway to the exit. you cross your hands tightly to your chest, as if it’s shrouding you from other people finding out what happened in the room behind you. 

“ah, i’m not one to kiss and tell.” gojo puts his hands in his pockets and glances back at you, giving you a quick wink as you follow behind him, trying to keep up with him as he turns corners.s

“oh, so you do do this everyone, huh?” you challenge, your shyness slowly melting away with gojo’s playful tone.. 

“did you enjoy it?”

a pause from you.. “yes.”

“then don’t worry about it, kitten.” gojo pauses before he opens the door and turns to you. “listen, i wouldn’t mind if you came here again for the tokyo special, you know. i’ll even give you a discount, too.” he says earnestly. 

you let out a giggle. “oh? a discount?”

“yeah, the tight pussy discount.”

“shut up!” you say, and you playfully smack his shoulder, and you both laugh. 

“so… is that a yes? i’ll see you next week?” 

you bite your lip. “maybe, i dunno.” you give him a wink before opening the door, and you both know fully well that you’ll be back on the massage table again in no time with gojo pounding into you. 

needless to say, gojo wasn’t lying when he said they were the best spa in town because by the time your sister’s wedding came around, your face was quite literally glowing. 

“wow! y/n – you’re just looking so radiant today! what’s your secret?” an auntie who’s name you cannot remember gleams, looking at you. 

you smirk, and try to hold back the heat from flushing your cheeks. “oh, just a really good facial,” you say. technically, you’re being honest, right?

“jesus, dude. is this all from skin care daddy?” nobara says, as the tenth person from the wedding compliments your skin. 

“you have no idea. they really know what they’re doing.” you say nonchalantly. you pull out your phone and text a recently saved number. 

you: got any slots for a tokyo special tomorrow?

within minutes you get a response: 

gojo: u know i do babygirl. btw a new guy just joined our spa. hope it’s cool sukuna joins to observe  😈

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojo #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you

[sinsandsweetness]

thinking about living across the hall from Frank…

-> always running into him at the most random times. in the elevator or the lovey super late at night or bright and early in the morning. When he’s on his way to a job and you’re coming back from work. Or you’re on your way to study at the library and he’s got his keys and a bag of groceries in his hands. Always giving you a little nod of acknowledgment but neither of you ever have the courage to speak. To actually say hi.

-> until one day where you get locked out of your apartment. You lost your keys or something. And with your luck, your roommate works the night shift at the hospital. You’ve got no way in until morning.

-> So you find yourself stuck. An hour goes by and you’re sitting on the dirty carpet hallway floor. Leaned up against the wall. Eyes fluttering closed because hell it’s been a long day. Frank, on his way home from work, makes his ways down the hall. Concerned at first by the sight of your body laying in the hall. But he gets to his door and it’s just you, half asleep. You give him a soft smile and he finally asks you for your name. You explain your situation and he nods in understanding.

“Well don’t just sit there. C’mon.” He’d wave you into his place, lunchbox in hand. Dirty from a day of construction. In desperate need of a shower and some food.

-> you’re reluctant to come in. Not because of Frank. Or at least not because you didn’t like him. More so… the opposite. You found him intimidating. Handsome. Rugged. You always enjoyed running into him. Smiling at him in the elevator. Trying not to blush too hard. But there’s just this aura about him that makes you a little nervous. Butterflies or something.

-> he’d tell you to make yourself at home while you wait to get ahold of your roommate. Or come up with a plan to get your keys. To call the landlord. Though you doubt they’d answer at this hour.

-> he asks if you’re alright if he showers, “I’ll be quick. You can help yourself to the fridge.” He even grabs you a beer and places it on the table in front of you. Cracking one for himself as he heads for the washroom.

-> it feels weird. Being in a strangers home. It’s empty. Sad almost. Grey walls. Nothing… personal. Nothing that tells you anything about the man. It’s clean. As clean as any of the suites in you cheap ass apartment can possibly get. But it’s bland. It’s a bachelor suite. He’s got nothing more than the necessities. The basics. You can’t help but think about Frank. In this apartment. Every night by himself. He must be lonely.

-> you saunter over to the fridge. Not particularly hungry, but feeling slightly awkward just sitting at his table and doing nothing. There’s enough to make a weeks worth of sandwiches. And a more than a few weeks worth of beer. You take a swig of your bottle.

-> when the water shuts off, you get back to your spot at the table. Checking your phone. The messages with your roommate. He’s probably busy. Drawing blood. Stitching people up. Doing whatever it is he does as a surgical intern.

-> “you get ahold of him?” Franks voice brings you back.

“Oh, no. He’s- he’s probably busy. Works at the hospital so… um… thanks for inviting me in, but uh, I can just wait out there.” You sling your bag over your shoulder, getting up to leave.

“Wait out there? All night?” He asks. Your gaze goes down to his shirt. A little damp where beads of water are running down his neck. Off his beard. You look back up. He’s got such pretty eyes, you notice.

“Yeah, i’ll be alright.” You give him a tight lipped smile. But he’s not having it.

He shakes his head, “here,” he grabs a blanket from the supply closet. And a pillow. A pillowcase. He fumbles with the makeshift bedding for a moment until he makes the couch up. It does look nicer than the stained hallway carpet.

“You can’t stay out there. There’s some real… weirdos in this area. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you.” His concern makes your stomach flutter. Even if it’s just human decency. Courtesy of not wanting you to get mugged or murdered.

“You really don’t have to-“ you try to deny the offer but he grabs your bag. Gently pulling it off your shoulders and placing it against the wall.

“It’s just for the night. I don’t mind. Seriously.” His eyes are serious. Brows furrowed in concern.

-> the couch is cozier than you expected. Worn and used in the most perfect way. It takes you no time to fall asleep. Frank on the other hand, is having some serious insomnia. There’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, right outside his bedroom. Sleeping on his couch. Probably making his blanket smell like her vanilla perfume. It’s making his brain all fuzzy. He can’t think. Well, he can’t not think. You’re wearing one of his tee shirts. He offered it up. No, he insisted. And when saying goodnight from his bedroom doorway, he couldn’t help but notice that your pants were folded up on top of your bag, and your bare legs gleamed in the dim light of the living room, as you fluffed up your pillow.

-> the two of you had some very interesting dreams that night.

-> Waking up to the smell of coffee, you’re blushing hard when he hands you a mug. He tells you he has to leave for work. Lunchbox in hand, jacket on.

-> He didn’t ask for his shirt back.

-> you wave Frank goodbye as you watch him head down the hallway, and at the same time, you see your roommate come out of the elevator at the end. Both of them exchange a nod and a glance. Your roommate jogs up to let you both into your place.

“You coulda came to the hospital. Coulda grabbed my keys,” he says plopping himself down on the couch. Rubbing his eyes. Long night for him as well.

“I didn’t even think about it. He just- Frank invited me in and I was so tired… I mean, it seemed like a better option than sleeping in the hall…”

“Well it was real nice of him. Maybe you should make him a dish or somethin’. Lasagna? Y’know, to say thank you.”

“You just want some lasagna don’t you?” You smirk, rolling your eyes.

Your roommate smiles back. A low chuckle escapes his throat. “The man let you sleep on his couch. You better be sayin’ thank you somehow.”

continued here

(Idk what this is tbh but um… let me know what we think??)

#officially writing for Frank now my loveys <3 #Frank castle x reader #frank x reader #Frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank daydream #frank castle

[bunnys-kisses]

it came to me on a sunny day - dad!simon - inspired by the song 'my girl' by the temptations

maybe i'll make this a whole fic? idk... lemme know <3

telling simon you were pregnant was nothing but a shock. but it was inevitable. you two weren't the best when it came to protection, so one night of passion led to the conception of your daughter.

you mostly wore simon's jacket due to you being pregnant most of the winter. you kept telling yourself that you'd get a jacket to accommodate the growing bump, but by the time you got around to it, simon's sweatshirts kept you warm enough. even though simon still put a hat on you every time you left the flat.

simon just loved the swell of your belly, he always smiled when he felt the movement of your daughter. he would lie on the couch, legs dangled off the edge in an uncomfortable manner to be closer to your belly.

if you both weren't so worried about protecting simon's identity, you would've put him online to tout him as 'father of the year'. in your second trimester you did get married at the court house. it was an informal affair, something to put on paper. he promised that the two of you could have the whole celebration after the baby was born.

"simon." you said, "watching johnny choke on a fry that kyle threw into his mouth after the ceremony is worth more than some stupid party." you then leaned over to kiss him, your ring felt comfortable on your finger.

however as you entered your third trimester and your fingers became swollen, you had you wear your ring around your neck on a chain. when you felt about it, simon simply said, "chain's closer to your heart."

when summer came your little rosemary was born. she was born in the end of june, your friend remarked that she was a cancer sign. simon was there the whole way, even when you punched him when a particular hard contraction hit.

"i'm gonna kill you, simon." while that wasn't the first time he ever heard that phrase, it was the only time it ever made a shiver run down his spine. but he was your rock the entire way, the full ten hours it took to delivery rosemary riley.

she came out screamin' though, a far cry from the silent nature of her father. you had never seen simon cry too many times, but the first time he held the pudgy newborn, you could see him hold back the tears.

"simon."

"yeah?" his gaze didn't leave his daughter.

you patted him on the arm, "you can cry, no one's going to judge you." you knew he always felt like he had to be the protector of his little family. but when you leaned over, exhausted yourself, and kissed him on the cheek. the emotion flooded out of him.

you were parents now.

simon took to being a father really well, despite his nervousness (that he never showed on his face) to end up like his own father. he realized that it was a lot easier to be good parent than he thought.

"i love you both." he often said to you, "thank you."

he said that you gave him a second chance at life. after everything, the pain that caused him to shut down and become a killer for the military. you and rosemary allowed the coldness to turn warm. while he still was intimidating outside the home, in the safety of where you lived, he was able to be the caring parent he was denied growing up.

"rose." he said in his low voice, "where are ya goin'." then picked up the toddler with ease so she didn't topple the television on top of her, "you can see it just fine over here." then carried her back to the couch.

you both did your best to not raise an ipad baby, rather you made good use of the second hand printer you had and let you colour and draw to her hearts content. and books. so many books.

"that's a bear, rose." you said as you pointed to the drawing in the book you were reading to her before bed, "b-e-a-r."

"B!Ear!" she chirped as she kicked out her little legs under the covers. she was a very smart girl.

she gets it from me, simon said jokingly.

of course he often let his little rosemary colour in his tattoos with washable markers while they're sitting outside on a nice summer's day a year or two down the line. the little girl is still getting used to holding markers and colours outside the lines of the tattoos. but simon finds it endearing.

nothin' is gonna hurt his girls.

"honey." you said.

"yes?"

"i think we're giving rose a sibling a lot sooner than we expected." <3

(i wanted to write something tender on this beautiful spring day. if it's sunny where you are today soak in the rays!)

#bunny speaks #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost fluff #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley #dad!simon ghost riley

[marleyybluu]

Scream

Spooky Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 821

Content Warning(s): 18+, smut out the ass, mask kinks, p in v, little bit of porn, little bit of plot, Spooky's big fucking arms, I picture spooky hella tatted, the reader is not race-coded, reader speaks and understands Spanish, no one is pulling out (I seriously have a problem), backshots anyone? mirror sex anyone?, I'm toasted rn so sorry for the mistakes, lmk if i missed any or if i forgot to tag you

A/N: if yall know me well enough, you know what kind of state of mind I'm in 🍃and I just thought I'd write a little quickie since Halloween is next week and I don't think I've ever written anything in regard to Halloween so here we are.

(not mine, got it off Pinterest. i could koala cuddle those arms fuuuuck)

It started off as a joke. You'd become influenced by the amount of Ghost face masks you'd seen on TikTok, girls buying their boyfriends the infamous Ghost face mask so that they could put it on and pretend to be the killer from the movie, a few even accessorized with a fake knife and the women always seemed to get off on the idea. It was weird to you, at first, but then you became curious about what he would look like with the mask on. Maybe you'd open up a new kink for yourself, or maybe not but it was worth a try. 

So you went to Spirit Halloween and travelled over to the mask section where only two of the Scream masks were hanging. It seemed like you weren't the only inquisitive one. You bought some other things to decorate the porch with and headed back home. You called out to your boyfriend saying you needed a favour. He sprints into the living room where he sees your hands behind your back and that smirk on your face, you were up to no good. 

You present him with the mask and he chuckles shaking his head. You tell him that you want to know what he'd look like in it, but you don't want to see him try it on in front of you, you want him to walk into the room like the videos you'd seen. You hand him the mask and trot upstairs and into your shared bedroom where you sit patiently on the bed. 

It took a few minutes but you'd finally heard the creaking of the stairs, your heart raced with anticipation and a familiar tingle in your fingers and toes. All over your body really. He emerges from the dark hallway into your dimly lit room and leans against the door frame. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and your thighs squeeze together. He had upped it a bit by removing his shirt and all he had on was a grey wifebeater and sweats to match. His arms were so big and his chest was so large, his broad shoulders adding to the attraction and his scattered tattoos were a bonus. 

You blink and before you know it those clothes, accompanied by your own, have been disregarded and scattered all over the floor. And somehow, here you were, face shoved into the mattress and back arched professionally. His enormous hands gripped your waist as he pulled you into his thrusts making you feel every inch, every vein that was prominent on his shaft. You whine, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life as he pounded you, the bed shaking and creaking to match his rhythm. 

"Look up, mi amor, this what you wanted right?" He mocked, you raise your head with the little bit of strength you had and looked up at the mirror across from the end of your bed, you bite your lip, the sight was something out of Twitter porn. The mask, his arms, the grip he had on your flesh, the way your ass recoils every time it collides with his pelvis-- Oh it was almost magical. "Fuck! That feels so fucking good." You whimper, your toes curl and you feel another orgasm approaching, only the gods in heaven knew what number this one was. You cried as you felt your hands, with a mind of their own, move from their position as you tried to crawl away from him, it was too much, the sheets were damn near soaked and sticky. 

Spooky caught on and pulled you back. "¿Adónde vas, cariño? Hm? Can't take it?"

You gasp as he draws you close to him, his strong arms hooked around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. "Oh, fuck, fuck,fuck!" Was all you could get out before your walls squeezed him, your head in the cloud and your vision completely fucked out. Your head falls back on his shoulder while he continues to slam into you, his own high slowly creeping over him. He takes off the mask and kisses your neck, licking and sucking enough to leave his mark. 

"You want me to come for you, bebita?" He grunts hotly in your ear, you moan and nod as an answer. Usually, he would tell you to use your words but considering your current sex-dazed state, he'd leave it alone for today. He buries his dick deep, his throbbing erection painting your walls making them extra sticky. You smile drunkenly when he affectionately nudges the back of your shoulder with his nose. "You always feel so fucking good, baby, I fucking swear." He praises, now kissing your skin. "Te amo." You manage to squeak out. 

He chuckles. "Te amo, mamita." 

He playfully smacks your ass before easing his way out of you, you fall on to the bed and sigh, completely and utterly satisfied. 

Thank god for TikTok trends.

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777

#on my block #on my block fanfic #spooky fanfic #marleysfanfictions #marleywrites #Spooky diaz smut #oscar diaz #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x fem!reader #spooky fanfiction #smut #oscar diaz smut

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7 K Warnings: None Prompt: It'd just one more day before it's full moon again, you must make sure you've got the smell of the pack... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 38: Let the Good Times Roll

Wednesday, December 22nd. 2:15 AM

When the party was over, you went up to your room alongside Lily to change. She wasn’t talking to you yet. You tried to give her some space, but you didn’t like not being able to talk to her. You weren’t even sure if you should apologise to her, and if you did, For what? For saying nasty things to Severus? You certainly weren’t sorry about that. Maybe for implying her in? That had been unnecessary, even if you knew it would spite him. 

You sighed as you walked in, Marlene and Mary were fast asleep, and you cast a quick silencing spell over their bed so neither you nor Lily would wake them up.  You looked at the redhead as you raised your wand and she walked towards the bathroom to change, avoiding your gaze altogether. 

Your gaze fixated on the closed door, a subtle crease forming on your forehead, and after a brief, contemplative moment, you bit your lip and walked over to your trunk to find something to change into yourself, giving one last look at the door before focusing completely on your task. She was out while you finished putting on your socks, leaning down on the bed as you stared at the floor. You missed the way she looked at you, only for a split second, but it was a longing stare. 

You also didn’t notice she had walked over to your bed until you felt it dip by your side. The feeling prompted you to sit upright, turning to look at her as quickly as possible.  She seemed to be hesitant to speak so you broke the silence instead, “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, love–” she said as her shoulders slumped. She was about to say something else, but then you interrupted her, speaking almost a little too fast as you attempted to order your thoughts at the same time as you spoke. 

“I shouldn’t have implicated you in my fight with Severus. I was very mad at him for pushing you and James but using your name and his pent-up feelings for you to piss him off was disrespectful. To you more than him. And I did not consider how it might have affected you then, and I’m really sorry if I made you upset–” 

“Hey,” she said softly, licking her lips before placing a hand on your arm, much like Remus did often. “I’m sorry too.” You let out a short, relieved breath at the contact, she doesn’t like it when we fight either.  “James told me how hard he was shoved,” she explained, “He broke most of it with his arm and the door so I wouldn’t get hurt, but you and Remus must have seen it first hand, of course, you’d be mad.” 

“It was pretty bad,” you agreed, if Lily had gotten the full extent of the blow, she might have been sore now. 

“And I shouldn’t have lashed out at you either. I’m not excusing you for saying the things you did but I wasn’t just…” she seemed to hesitate for a second, as if she wasn’t sure which words she should use. “I wasn’t just angry at you, I was angry at Severus and at how much he’s changed through the years. He’s insufferable now, and I’m sorry you had to be the one defending me against him when I should be the one standing up for myself, but you didn’t know him then, he was different.” 

“He called you a mudblood,” you said, “James a bIood traitor and Remus a–” You didn’t even dare to say it. “I shouldn’t have used you, but there will never be a moment in which I won’t defend my friends, Lily. Even if it’s from their own friends.” 

It was her turn to sigh, “I know, it’s what I admire the most from you.” 

You leaned your head to the side, a soft smile drawing itself on your lips. “I admire your noble heart,” you said. “And your ability to stay calm in these kinds of situations. You’re like Remus, all warm and calm and conciliating–” 

“Oh, come on, you’ve seen me mad plenty of times.”

“Well yes, but you still manage to keep your head cool, I mean if Severus had–” you stopped yourself, you did not want to upset her further, instead you mumbled. “Might have punched him.”

“And be the aggressive Mudblood?” she asked you, your gaze almost fell at her words. She smiled bitterly, “I don’t have the luxury to retaliate like that.” 

You swallowed thickly. “It would be more than justified I–” you sighed. And then gave her another worried look, reaching your hand to grab hers. “I never even factored that in.” 

The weight of your privilege, the one bestowed upon you by your father who was keen on keeping up appearances of bIood purity, suddenly bore down on you. The privilege of not having to worry about your abilities, or having to prove how good you were simply to belong had never been more evident to you.

Of course, you had your own battles to fight, the world was still not fair for you, for any of your friends, really. But what Lily had to go through, the kind of bigotry she was exposed to and how she had to behave because of it, made you see her in a new light. Hours ago, if anyone told you, you’d admire Lily more than you did, you would have called them mad, and here you were, looking at your beautiful redhead friend and feeling nothing but utmost admiration for her. 

She smiled at you. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.” 

“Thanks for being the pure heart that holds me down when I’m about to go mad,” you responded with a smile. 

And then, laughter rippled through the room, a shared moment of catharsis. You let yourself fall on the bed, both you and Lily now staring at the wooden headboards and red curtains surrounding it. “Lily,” you began, your voice carrying a genuine warmth, “I don’t want to ever lose you as a friend.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll latch onto you like a leech, I’ll be worse than Sirius even, you cannot get rid of me that easily.” 

“Not even if I hex Severus?” 

“Of course not,” she said with a laugh, but she quickly turned to look at you. “You’re not planning to hex him though, are you?” she asked in a worried tone. 

You just laughed in return. “Don’t worry about that, he’ll be suffering his own little issues tonight,” you said in a rather mysterious tone. 

She gasped, “What did you do?” 

“Me? Nothing.” You answered honestly. “In fact, it was he who stole the treat I was about to eat.” 

She threw you a look, “And you had nothing to do with it?” 

You shrugged, “Not my fault he and his gang are such gits.”  

Lily shook her head disapprovingly even if she had a smile plastered on her face. You stayed next to each other for a while. Eventually, she yawned, and you followed closely after. “You can stay on my bed if you want.” 

“Mhm?” She asked as she accommodated herself so her feet would be up on the bed and not resting on the ground like they had been previously since the two of you had been sitting on the edge, “You’re going with the boys? Because of the moon and the experiment Peter suggested, right?” 

You nodded in response, and then realised her eyes were closed, “Yes.” 

“Good night then,” she said and yawned again. You stood from the bed and brought over some covers from hers to place them on top of her since you had both laid on top of yours. As you did you leaned over to look at her and accommodated her hair behind her ear, you could see some of the freckles she always tried to hide with potions but that you found truly endearing. No wonder James liked her so much, your friend was gorgeous, but that was something you’d always known. 

You were too emotionally stirred to see the difference, while you considered both Lily and Remus your closest friends, and while you were attracted to girls, you didn’t even once look at Lily the exact same way you had looked at Remus through the night. The hunger that you felt for the latter was nothing compared to the sheer love and admiration you felt for the redhead. Two very different emotions, and they were there for two very different reasons, but you were still too blind to see. The blindfold, although slowly becoming sheerer, was still there. 

“I’m glad we’re still friends,” you whispered as you finished tucking her in. Then you made sure the rest of the girls were asleep before going back to the boy��s room. 

Now, it’s not that you were eager to go back to Remus. In fact, you thought you had ogled him enough with the horny potion still running through your system throughout the party –and it wasn’t gone entirely yet– but, just like Lily had mentioned, tomorrow was full moon. 

And while the couple of nights you had bunked with the boys had been enough, according to Remus who confirmed Vixen smelled like part of the pack, you had all agreed that the night before the full moon would be the most important. For a couple of reasons: first of all, the closer you smelled to the pack when Moony showed up, the more chances you would have to be accepted by him. Second, after the party, there was a high chance other people’s smells had been mixed in with your own, and thirdly, Remus said it would make him feel at ease knowing that Vixen smelled like nothing other than the pack. 

You wanted Remus to be at ease, especially in the particularly complicated time he had just before the moon, so you had all decided you’d meet again after the party was over. James had even lent his cloak so you could sneak out of your room and into theirs quietly. 

“What are you doing?” You heard someone whisper in your ear which had you jump a few feet back as you looked around. You had the cloak on, there was no fucking way… “Saw your door open.” The voice explained. 

You frowned, finally recognizing him, “Richie?!” 

“Boo,” he said as he became visible right in front of you, you stayed safely under the cloak.

“What– what are you doing in the Gryffindor tower?” 

“Can’t a ghost roam around freely in the castle?” He asked, with a slightly dramatic tone, ever so characteristic of him.  And then looked to the side pointing at the spot where your voice was coming from. “Kinda rude you don’t show yourself after I have.” 

You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see it. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m quite literally in the middle of sneaking out of my dorm at three AM, of course, I cannot step out of my hideout,” you whispered.

He hummed at that, “I still think it’s rude,” he said with a shrug. 

“How did the portrait lady let you in?” 

“She didn’t, I sneaked in. You’re not the only one with secret passages knowledge,” he said, a little haughtily. 

You gave him an incredulous look, hardly remembering he couldn’t actually see it. “And you came over because…” 

“I was bored, thought of giving the first years something to talk about in their Christmas break,” he responded with a shrug. 

“Poor kids,” you said as you shook your head in disapproval. 

“What about you?” he countered. “Why are you sneaking out at three in the morning? Are you planning a new prank with your boyfriends?” 

You couldn’t quite tell Richie what you were going to do, let alone who you were going to do it with, so it was best to just lie. “Boyfriend, and yes, something like that.” 

Richie gave the nothingness a look of incredulity, you thought it was funny that even though he was the ghost, he was the one with a slightly lost gaze as he talked exclusively to your voice. “You keep telling yourself that, little witch.” He said the last thing on purpose, he had heard Remus call you that, and he wanted to tease you over it. Maybe then you’d fucking realise what he had seen a while ago, but you and your stupid boyfriends failed to see. 

You shuddered when he said your nickname, no one used that one but Remus. Not even Sirius that seemed to have about 10 different nicknames for you. You certainly did not like the way it sounded when Richie said it. Was it because it sounded a lot more patronizing rather than endearing? Or was it only you who perceived it that way? Of course, you weren’t about to tell him that you didn’t like it when he said it, he had already teased you about nicknames in the past. You did not want to give him yet another reason to be annoying. 

You sighed. “Anyway, I’ll let you torture the poor kids, I have somewhere to be.” 

“No, wait!” Richie said as he turned to follow your voice. “Where are you going?” 

“Boys dorms,” you said honestly. He gave you a look, eyebrows raised and a suggestive smile. You would have nudged him if you could actually touch him. “For the prank you dirty-minded ghost!” 

“Of course, of course,” he said as he moved his head from side to side, brows furrowed slightly, his voice dripping with playful condescence. 

You huffed at that, worst part was, with the potion that was –now you knew– clearly not gone entirely, you had easily gone back to the thoughts of Remus and Sirius and the fact that you’d actually be sleeping next to the two of them. Your only hope left was that said potion did not emit any sort of effect on Vixen. And that your fox thoughts would be cleaner than your human ones. 

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me here,” he whispered, “McGonagall has been getting on my nerves for sneaking into the Slytherin dorms last time. They think James convinced me to do it. As if.” 

“See what?” you asked, a complicit smile etched on your features, “I’ve been soundly sleeping on my bed all night.” 

He gave a pleased look at that. “Good luck with your boys. Have fun! Take your special teas and potions and all that.” 

“Richie!” you admonished. As if you needed warmer thoughts to enter your head. Enough had been your ridiculous admiration of Remus’ torso with how tight the navy-blue shirt fit him. Enough had been the thought that you’d probably end up sleeping right over it. No, not me. Vixen, you corrected yourself. You almost regretted sacrificing yourself for James, but being honest, he would have had it much worse than you did. At least your body wasn’t going to give any physical indication of your thoughts no matter how far they escalated. And honestly, Lily did not need more emotional strain in one night either. You weren’t sure how she would react to a horny James on a normal day, but it would definitely not be positive with the toll of the night. 

Richie just shrugged, gave you a wink, and disappeared through a wall. Your eyes trailed behind as you saw him go and then started to walk towards the boys’ dorms. The hallways were dark, and you had to be extra careful not to trip on your way down the set of stairs of the girls’ dorms and up the ones on the boys’. Thankfully you had already taken that same path a good deal of times and you knew how to get from point A to point B with relative stealth. 

Once you were outside of their door you had to take a deep breath, forcing the image of shirtless Remus you had seen a while ago off your head, and walked inside. The boys knew you were coming later that night, so you trust they were all presentable. When you walked inside, you spotted James thrown on his bed, tie loose and shirt slightly unbuttoned, snoring just slightly as he was half-covered with the sheets. Peter was on his bed, perfectly tucked and with a Gryffindor beanie that clashed entirely with his purple striped pyjamas.  He is cold, you realised, you were too. The cloak had never been that warm. 

Then you spotted your boys, the boys, you corrected yourself. Fucking Richie and damn Ackley’s potion, they’d made your mind all wonky. “No use in hiding luv, we saw the door open,” Sirius said, he was on the bed next to Remus who was reading a book you hadn’t seen before. Sirius was sketching something in a small notebook. Both boys stood rather close to each other, but Remus kept his gaze on his book, respecting Sirius’ earlier wish of not snooping on his drawing, even if the temptation was gnawing at him. 

You took part of the cloak off and placed it around your shoulders. “You’re drawing,” you pointed. 

“Mhm,” Sirius said in response. “Just practising expressions.” 

“How’s it going?” 

“Surprisingly great, wanna see?” He asked. Both you and Remus looked at him with a rather surprised expression. Sirius had never allowed either of you to see his drawings, and he was now so casually offering it, that it had the two of you puzzled. 

“Sirius, are you all right?” you asked as you stepped closer to the bed, letting James’ cloak fall over Remus’ trunk as you did. 

“Did you hit your head?” Remus intervened. 

“Or took a potion?” You added as you leaned over the bed and placed your hand on his forehead to check if he had some sort of fever. 

“What?” The boy asked with a frown as he gently pulled your hand off his head. “No, I– You know what? Never mind.” 

You let a disappointed “aw” in response. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to see it, we were just a little surprised,” you said, even pointing at Remus, to show it wasn’t just you that had been taken aback by his offer. 

“You’ve never shown us your drawings. At least not the ones in your notebook,” Remus added. 

Sirius seemed to hesitate at that, and they were right, he never showed his art to anyone. He had tried to show it to his mother once and she had berated him with it. Telling him it was a useless waste of his time and that he should instead be perfecting his charms, that Regulus was getting ahead of him and that he was lagging behind. That, if he continued, he would lose his chance to get into Hogwarts and would end up cast out of the family like a squib. He was only 8 at the time, and since that day, his drawings, other than the doodles on his notebooks, had been kept to himself. 

Sketchbook after sketchbook, sent to him by Andromeda and sometimes even his cool uncle Alphard (who had never been too loved by his mother and who had at least kept in touch with Sirius even after he had been kicked out last summer). Sirius had kept them all hidden and lock-charmed so no one would be able to access his art. But of course, he continued on drawing, sometimes because he saw something he wanted to remember, sometimes because he wanted to get better at it, sometimes for the sake of it, and sometimes because he wanted to piss Walburga off. 

Sirius had a rather specific way in which he would sit in the drawing room of his house, and while Regulus studied diligently, he would prop out his sketchbook and draw for hours, waiting for Walburga to come over, just to see her walk out of the room displeased, he enjoyed that look on her face so much that he would draw for even more hours, just to see if she’d come back and make it again. 

At some point he’d even found some drawing books in the family library, he had taken all of them and hid them in his trunk, using them to improve his skill –not that the practice hadn’t already done that for him, but he learnt a lot about proportions with those. Later on owling them to James and asking him to hide them when things got rougher at home. That Christmas he’d gotten even more books, all thanks to the Potters who’d given him a few as gifts (he had stayed with them over the break while telling his parents he’d be at Hogwarts), James had given him a set of always-sharp drawing pencils that he still used to this day. James had also told Peter and Remus about Sirius’ passion for drawing. Peter had gotten him some colouring pencils while Remus got him a leather bound sketchbook, the same he was using today, in fact. 

“Yeah I–” Sirius was hesitant, he didn’t even notice how easily it had slipped off his tongue. How he had just offered the two of you to see his drawing. The more he thought about it, the more he realised, he wanted the two of you to see it. He trusted you, unlike he’d ever trusted anyone in his life, and it was scary, giving someone so much power over him and his emotions. 

“Hey,” you said softly, noticing his change in demeanour.  “I’m sure both me and Rem would love to see your drawing. See what that pretty mind of yours came up with,” you reassured as you pointed at his forehead with one of your fingers as you mentioned his mind. “But neither of us is going to pressure you.” 

“We’re okay if you keep it to yourself,” Remus added, for good measure. He was feeling all sorts of warm feelings as he saw you treat Sirius with such kindness, to touch him with such tenderness, Merlin knew that boy needed this kind of affection and he was thrilled, that even if he couldn’t give it to him himself –not in the way he wanted at least– you could still do that for him. You really were made for each other. And he really was in the middle of a tender moment and he wasn’t sure if he should stay in it, not that either of you seemed to mind, you never did, he realised. 

“I want you to see it,” Sirius mumbled and he handed the sketchbook your way, one of his fingers in between the pages, to mark where the drawing was. You took it in your hands and opened it slowly when you realised what it was you gasped. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said honestly. Both the drawing and the person he had drawn. Sirius swallowed thickly, he wasn’t insecure about many things, but he had never shown his art to anyone. “You’ve captured him perfectly.” 

“Who?” Remus asked, now intrigued and leaning over to see the drawing as well. 

“You,” you said as you tilted the sketchbook over so he could see it as well. Remus’ eyes opened wide with surprise as he saw himself sketched out in the notebook. 

When Sirius said he was “practising” his expressions, he really meant it, he had sketched out a perfect version of Remus’ side profile as he read a book, his brow just slightly furrowed as he was looking at a particularly intriguing section of the detective novel he’d been reading earlier. “You were… you were drawing me?” he stuttered, as his eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath. 

“You mind?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head slightly. 

Remus wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he mind? No, if anything he was flattered, barely holding the blush starting to creep up his cheeks, he never thought he’d be the subject of one of Sirius’ drawings, let alone the many he had already been of and would be in the future.  “No,” he said honestly. “I just didn’t realise.” 

“You were very absorbed in your book,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Wasn’t even being careful about it.” 

You turned to Sirius then, he’s drawn him before, you thought, it was in the way the lines were so sure, confident as if he knew exactly what he was doing and had to focus solely on his expression. But it made so much sense, they were roommates after all. You then wondered if he had drawn you too, was it possible that you too had been so engrossed in yourself that you hadn’t noticed? 

The drawing of Remus was beautiful, it truly reflected him in every way, but Remus had never seen himself as beautiful as he had been plastered on the sketch. He was truly stunning in Sirius’ gaze, and if that was what he looked like to you, then perhaps it too made sense when you called him beautiful. You’d even called him beautiful when you’d first seen the drawing. Well, was that him or was it Sirius’ talent that you had been praising? He chose to think a little bit was because of him.  

“Sirius it’s incredible,” you repeated as you gazed at the drawing again. “I expected you to be good but–” 

“I’m always good with my hands,” he said as he threw a wink your way and you almost pushed him off the bed entirely. You did not need dirty thoughts added. 

“My love you wound me,” he said dramatically as he let himself fall back onto Remus’ lap.  Remus had reacted just fast enough to pull the sketchbook up, Sirius looked at him with a cheeky little smile. “Moony, you’re awfully comfortable,” he teased. The two of you praising his art had gotten him in a dreadfully good mood. 

His two favourite people on earth had seen his drawing and they had both thought it was beautiful. Or at least been kind enough to pretend it was, he was pretty sure the two of you were being honest with him, though. He wasn’t always good at seeing through lies, but he was good when it mattered. 

Wait– his two favourite people in the world? 

Remus rolled his eyes as he looked down on Sirius, trying not to think of how beautiful he looked and instead of how annoying he was by taking up his personal space so brazenly. Problem was, even that he found endearing. The urge to brush his fingers through his perfectly chiselled nose was almost mortifying. 

Sirius wasn’t in a much better position either, he had focused so much on his drawing that he had forgotten he had actual Remus Lupin –who for some reason he now considered insanely attractive– looking at him like he was the only person in the room. They locked eyes for a moment and Sirius swallowed. 

You looked at the scene curiously and he seemed not to mind much the kind of attention Rem was providing him with, you already knew he loved being coddled. Sirius had always been touchy and cuddly, searching for the lack of affection his parents had given him wherever he could find it, but he and Remus had gotten a lot closer –physically at least– since you all started doing the pack cuddling thing this month. And while you found it endearing, that Sirius could find love not only with you but elsewhere as well in case you weren’t around to help him out, there was something about the way they were looking at each other in that particular moment that made you do a double take, or at least to stare a little closely. Have you missed something? That look was an awful lot like–

Suddenly there was a stir on the bed and the sketchbook fell from Remus’ hands. When he picked it up, the page had changed, and when he looked at it, he couldn’t actually hide the blush that crept up his cheeks, “Sirius Black!” he said in an admonishing tone. 

Sirius, who had turned his gaze to you and was pulling onto your leg, turned his head quickly and gasped when he saw the drawing Remus was looking at, “Close it, close it!” 

Remus did as told in an instant, swallowing thickly as he remembered the drawing. Sirius now was blushing as well. “What– what was that?” You asked with a small frown, completely changing your train of thought, now focusing solely on the sketchbook.

“Nothing,” Remus said simply. 

“Don’t worry about it, Starshine,” Sirius said, but that was not his cool and controlled voice. You could see how nervous he was, whatever it was that Remus had seen in the sketchbook, he clearly did not want you to see it too, which obviously made you want to see it even more. Meanwhile, Remus was struggling not to think of the drawing now burned into his brain. 

You scrutinised their reactions, the only sound in the room the gentle rustle of the fabric as you shifted on the bed. Your gaze darted between them, before deciding to focus on the latter. “Sirius?” He swallowed. 

“You don’t want to see it, trust me,” Remus said as coolly as he could, but you could clearly see through his bullshit. 

“Your lies only make me more curious.” 

“I’ll show it to you later.” 

“How will I know it’s the same?”

“Because you trust me?” Sirius responded with a shrug. 

“Would you show it to me later?” You asked as you turned to Remus. 

He cleared his throat, he really did not need to think of the drawing again. “Yes,” he lied. 

“Okay fine,” you responded, and laid back for a second, Remus had the sketchbook still in his hands.

Sirius was looking at you attentively, not sure how you had let the subject go so easily when you jumped forward to try and grab the notebook from Remus’ hands. But Remus’ reflexes had always been faster and he moved the book out of the way as you crashed against him and caused him to fall back on the bed with you on top. You, being deterred not even a little bit, pulled your hand forward to try and grab it again when Sirius grabbed you by the waist firmly and held you from moving forward again. 

Remus, meanwhile was trying not to think of the image, and now also your body pressed against him, and you, being so engrossed in your task, didn’t quite realise exactly what you were doing. 

“Starshine please, I promise I’ll show it to you later,” Sirius pleaded as he held you back from reaching towards Remus’ long outstretched hand. 

“Why not now?” you asked as you continued trying to move. 

“Because!” he said. “You’re all over Moony, come on!” he added as he tried to pull you back. 

You looked down, he was right, you were all over Remus, more specifically, all over the broad chest you had been thinking about all night, and you couldn’t help but think how firm it felt underneath you. But you still wanted to know. 

“What was it?” you asked, squirming as you tried to get out of Sirius’ grasp. 

“Anatomy study.” 

Finally, you stilled. Looking up to see how red Remus’ cheeks had gotten, and how he swallowed thickly after Sirius’ words. Now actually noticing how close you were to Remus and the compromising position your legs had been in, and the way they had entangled onto Remus’ and how long you had been there and how Sirius had been trying to pull you back by the waist and how flustered the two boys looked and suddenly it dawned on you. 

You scattered back in an instant, falling on Sirius’ lap as you did, he stilled you easily since his hands were still on your waist and you turned to him, your heart hammering on your chest. The thoughts currently roaming in your head weren’t making this entire ordeal any easier for you. 

“Do you mean-” you swallowed. “That kind of anatomy study?” 

Sirius sighed and looked at the side, before turning his gaze back to you. Remus was looking at the entire situation, at the position both you and Sirius had ended up in trying not to feel things, let alone imagine other ones. 

“Yes,” Sirius answered, giving you a look. “You really want to see?” he asked. He was sure what your answer could be, that didn’t stop Remus from sending him a reproachful look, as if telling him what a terrible idea that was. 

And if it had been any other day, you might have said yes. But after the potion, whatever and whoever Sirius had drawn, would probably be a terrible idea to look at, you already had enough heated thoughts as it was. Only made worse by the fact that you were now sitting on his lap and had been right over Remus earlier. Godric! How much longer for you to stop sexualizing your best friend? 

A lump formed in your throat and shook your head. “Show me a different day,” you said as you stared at him. Sirius nodded as he looked at you and you missed the way Remus let out a relieved breath. “Let’s uh– Let’s sleep now.” 

Neither of the boys argued, Remus placed the sketchbook on his night table and waved his wand to turn the lights off. You instantly turned into a fox and walked over to the end of the bed to try and clear your thoughts. Sirius extended his hand to pull you closer but ended up holding back and turning into a Padfoot instead. Then he walked closer to you and picked up Vixen carefully with his snout. 

You stilled as he did and allowed him to drop you over Remus’ chest, as you accommodated you realised Remus’ heartbeat was beating abnormally fast and you couldn’t help but think of the picture again. What the hell had Sirius drawn to garner such a reaction? You shook your head then, don’t need to know, don’t need to know!

Sirius was getting comfortable on the side by now, and he placed his snout over Remus’ shoulder, close to Vixen’s, and closed his eyes. But even if the three of you had your eyes closed, and even if the three of you were really trying to fall asleep, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were sleeping on Remus’ chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about the drawing he’d seen and Sirius could not stop thinking how adorable Remus had looked with the blush creeping up his cheek, let alone the compromising position you had both ended up in earlier. And it stayed like that, all of you attempting to calm your breaths, until at least half an hour later when one by one, you started to fall asleep. 

The next day had gone pretty fast, you’d woken up and walked back to your room to get changed into your flying gear, meeting Sirius and James just outside of the common room for the last flight of the year, since everyone would be packing their bags for home the following day. Well, everyone except for Remus who’d go back home until after Christmas. 

After flying you had taken the last few classes of the year, which consisted of some teachers actually trying to teach, some final project presentations and some others of teachers who just allowed everyone to do whatever they wanted during the class time. On charms, you spent almost the entire class playing Wizards’ chess with Marlene and Mary while James and Sirius spent the class writing his essays for potions. Both using yours and Remus’ as a guide. 

On potions Slughorn had you present the essays and he congratulated everyone, even Sirius, got a slightly higher mark on that one than Severus, whom you’d heard had spent weeks working on, you couldn’t stop the slight mocking giggle that escaped your lips when he announced the grades. That was until you got yours and it was lower than Sirius’, who just shrugged awkwardly and gave you an apologetic smile. 

Sure, your head had been a little muddled while you wrote it (which was at some point after the friendly game with Neil and Nox) but you still thought your argument had been solid, even if Slughorn said that you didn’t have enough sources to back it up. 

“But where did you even get your sources? You literally used my essay as a base!” you asked Sirius as you read over his. 

He just shrugged, “made them up,” he said honestly and proceeded to show you the page where he had added them, which contained all sorts of ridiculous names like David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Steve Walsh, Brad Delp and even some surreal ones like Moonsmus Lup and Vixenia Starr.

“Oh, so you even gave us credit,” you said as you hovered your index over the ridiculous names he’d invented based on your nicknames. “How on earth did he buy that?” 

“Mom and dad used to have pretty rare books in the library,” he explained, “books rarely available to the general public…” 

You nodded as you pursed your lip. Half surprised, half admired by his boldness, “Next time I’ll add some myself.” 

“The weirdest the names, the more he loves it.”  

Herbology had gone by like charms, Mr. Folly was talking about properties of some curative flowers with the students who were interested in them –and who wanted to go for either medical or herboreal careers– and allowed the rest to do their thing. You had spent the time talking to Beth and Tom, planning to get together in London after the trip on the train to get some gifts for your friends. 

Remus had excused himself before the class was over and walked over to Pomfrey who took him straight to the shack. You had all agreed that you’d meet him there a little before 6 pm which was the estimated time for the moon to appear that night. 

After changing into the same clothes you had been wearing the previous night, just for good measure and according to Remus’ instructions, he said it would be for the best, to “maximize the smell of the pack” but also –and secretly– for his very own enjoyment. Not that it didn’t also translate to your and Sirius’ enjoyment, the three of you rather liked the way you smelled when your scents were all combined with each other. From Sirius always smelling slightly like leather, added to the light notes of your perfume that lingered on each other, all the way to the faint smell of Remus’ aftershave potion and the ever-present smell of chocolate that seemed to surround him. It was certainly an interesting mix, but one you had all grown to love.

“You ready?” Sirius asked while Wormtail sprinted towards the Whomping Willow, they had told you that the tree had a secret branch that if you pressed it right, it would calm him enough to let you through, and Wormtail was currently working on making it happen. 

You nodded in response, paying close attention to the way Wormtail walked and how after a small flick of his tiny rat-like hands, the Willow stilled. You looked marvelled at the sight of the usually bellic tree looking so serene. You let out a small scoff.

“What is it?” James asked. 

You pointed at the tree, “A trick like that would have saved my Nimbus.” 

“But we wouldn’t have ended up snogging under it,” Sirius said with a sneaky little smirk as he passed his hand over your shoulders. 

“Is that why you were late after the race?” James asked with a gasp. “We were all mad worried!” 

“We also had some things to discuss,” you said with a small shrug, “I thought Sirius hated me.” 

James genuinely laughed at that, “He was bIoody smitten!” 

“Yeah, I guess I should have seen the signs…” you replied as you turned to your boyfriend, “It was in those pretty puppy eyes of his.” 

He pulled his tongue out and then started running towards the tree, you smiled and followed shortly behind. James, on the other hand, lagged back just for a moment, noting how you chased behind Sirius with a bright smile plastered on your face, filled with only blithe thoughts as you walked towards the wolf’s den; as if you weren’t even slightly worried for the outcome of the night. 

And you really weren’t, as far-fetched as it was, you thought Peter’s idea of using scents to trick Moony into not wanting to eat you, made sense. You had been sneaking into the restricted section to look up some more werewolf-related tomes, sometimes with Sirius and sometimes by yourself, all in the hopes that you’d find something to back your claim up –and rip some more of those murder pages off of them– and even though you hadn’t found something that confirmed it, you had found some text that talked about how heavily werewolves leaned onto scents to hunt and track humans down. 

You had also taken some other “muggle animals” from the muggle studies section of the library and read about the normal wolves, and while you hadn’t found any stance in which they did something similar to what you had planned, there were some stances in which packs of wolves adopted stray and small dogs and raised them as their own. Now Vixen wasn’t either a stray, nor a dog, but she was canine, so that must atone for something, right? Either way, you had built a pretty strong case for Peter’s theory in your head, and while you couldn’t actually ask a teacher about it, you were about to do something that Lily had taught you was “the scientific method” in muggle terms. It was simple, you got a theory, and you tested it out to see if it would work. Now, according to Lily, the testing was in a controlled setting with proper security, your security would be Prongs, Padfoot and how fast you could move as Vixen, but you were still optimistic enough to go through with it. It had to work, otherwise, things would only get harder.

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[ghouljams]

I know we love to bully faekonig but does their relationship have any tender moments or as tender as those weirdo can get??

Absolutely there are tender moments! This one got away from me, and I got a little misty eyed writing it, even though it's not really anything worth getting teary over.

Sometimes it's hard to be honest with yourself about what you want. You're not in a habit of asking for things. Life has always felt like it's sort of forced itself upon you, things happen to you not for you. Except König you suppose. Despite very clearly forcing his way into your life, and being just generally overpowering in every way you can think of, he asks you things startlingly often. He assumes a lot, but only once he's gotten your smaller answers.

"Do you want to be with me?" He asks out of the blue. He's taken over your couch, making himself comfortable in the way only a man can. Sat in the middle with his legs spread wide, elbows on his knees as he watches you.

The way he says it makes you wonder how long he's been thinking of asking, makes it sound like you've only been putting up with him thus far. You suppose it's a fair question, one you've heard plenty of times. Most people you date get tired of your attitude long before this. He isn't snapping it at you though, hasn't raised his voice or accused you of anything.

"Of course I do," You tell him without looking up from folding laundry. You know the rest of this conversation by heart: 'Then why don't you show it?' or your favorite 'You don't act like you do.' You know that. You know your spines as easily as you know König's, people like them until they realize they can't trim them.

"Then I'll start moving in," König stands. You look up at him in shock, when did you offer that? When- huh?

"Moving in?" You frown, unsure if you heard him right with how huge a leap that is.

"You want to be with me, I want to be with you, why should we be separated?" König tips his head, looks at you like it's the easiest thing in the world to understand.

"That's what you were asking?" You balk.

"What else would I be asking?" You see his brows draw together under his hood, his eyes darting away from you as he thinks.

"If I want to be with you," You cringe a little at your own voice, at König's continued confusion, "like, if I love you, that sort of thing." König sits back down on the couch slowly, stretches his legs long under the coffee table so they rest on either side of you. Creating a space for you within himself.

"You do love me," He tells you carefully.

"I thought you were mad," You explain, though it sounds childish to say it out loud.

"Mad that you love me." He's not getting it, and it's making you sound silly.

"Mad that I don't-" You sigh, not sure how to explain the feeling of disappointment that you seem to carry, seem to inspire in your partners. "Mad that I don't love you enough, I guess. Love you the way you want me to love you," You try.

"How do I want you to love me?"

"Louder, I guess," You try to think of the complaints you'd previously gotten, "in some grand spectacular way, without all the thorns. The way people are loved in movies and fairytales."

"Do you want to be loved like that?"

Your throat feels tight as you settle a neatly folded shirt onto the growing pile. "Not really, I like the quiet. I like how you make me feel, I don't need anything bigger than you."

"Schatz," König's voice sounds strained, when you look at him his eyes are full of concern, "I love your quiet, and your thorns. I love how you don't need me, you want me. I love how you always come find me whether you're happy or sad. I love that you set your alarm early so you can stay in bed longer." König reaches across the coffee table to take your hand, "Liebling, you love me every day, in a million quiet ways. Why would I ever want something louder?"

You swipe your fingers under your eye. It feels an awful lot like having your heart ripped from your chest. You're not sure how that's so pleasant, but it makes it a lot easier to let König direct you around the table to climb onto the couch next to him.

You love how small he makes you feel. You love how he holds you. You love how he knows you, every little detail you think no one notices. You love how he knows your morning tea, and your favorite snacks. That he knows exactly how to put you together again after you've taken yourself apart. You love how he's asking you to move in when he's been living here for months, and how in the morning he'll probably ask you if you want to skip work to celebrate, even though he knows you'll say no. You love that he'll ask anyway, just to make sure you know you always have a choice with him.

And you love that you love him, and he loves you. Spines and all.

#cod x reader #x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig #könig fanfiction #fae!König #König x oc #x oc #oc: liebling #cod x oc #König x you #könig fluff #1fae1 #you ever think about the ways that people love you #the piecemeal way you've been forced to partition yourself to earn love that everyone else seems to get so easily #and wonder if anyone will ever hold every piece of you and say #this one. I want this one #anyway I'm fine and dating is going well

[navybrat817]

Any chance we'll see tattoo artist Steve soon? 🥺

Here's a bit of Steve's birthday, nonnie.

By Any Other Name

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Steve Rogers x Teacher!Female Reader Summary: You're the only thing Steve wants for his birthday. Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Implied sex, implied oral sex (f. receiving), future couple, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Thorn and Rose, set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @jobean12-blog for chatting with me about this! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics and Steve edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first thing you thought when you woke up was that you couldn't believe how well rested you were. The sun was already up, shining bright through the window and curtain. You didn't normally sleep in and had no idea what time it was, but you didn't care as you nestled back into the pillow. It was going to be a good day.

If indicated by the wonderful ache between your thighs.

Your eyes widened when the figure beside you wrapped an arm tight around your waist. For a second, you almost forgot that you weren't alone and weren't in your bed. The large body was so warm and solid, practically a furnace. The beard that tickled your neck made the ache in your core throb with need.

So, I did actually sleep with my tattoo artist. It wasn’t a dream.

"Morning," Steve rasped, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as you held back a whimper.

“Morning,” you whispered back.

Your heart fluttered when he raised his head, his deep blue eyes focusing more as he smiled. His blonde hair was slightly dishevled, but he managed to still look perfect. You probably looked like a monster. It didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss between the center of your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his muscular arm pulling you a bit closer.

"I'm okay," you replied after a moment, lightly tracing one of the tattoos on his forearm.

"Just okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You weren't sure how to respond. The gorgeous man who talked you through getting your tattoo was practically a stranger. And you slept with him. To say he rocked your world was an understatement. The man shattered you and you couldn’t believe how he was able to put every piece of you back into place.

“Steve, Steve, Steve!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name when I make you come for me. I’ve got you.”

The mere memory, along with his chest against yours, made your nipples hard and made you damp between your legs. You didn’t draw any attention to it though. While he didn’t seem like the type to kick you out of his bed, you had no idea where he wanted to go from here.

“More than okay. I slept really well,” you admitted, backing up just a little. He didn’t need your morning breath in his face.

Steve only pulled you closer. “So did I,” he smiled, cracking his neck a little. “And how’s your wrist feeling?”

“Just fine. Thank you,” you said as he gently took it to check. You still couldn’t believe you ran from the chair when he turned the tattoo gun on. Needles weren’t your thing. He managed to get you through it and you were glad for it.

The rose and single thorn tattoo was beautiful and worth conquering that fear.

“I’m glad you went through with it. And I’m not afraid to tie you down if you try to run from me again,” he winked, making your cheeks hot. “I have to say, this is the best way to wake up on my birthday.”

“Wait, it’s your birthday?” you smiled when he gave you a sheepish look. “Happy birthday, Steve. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

To be fair, you didn’t know and you hadn’t expected to go home with him last night.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, slowly tugging the sheet away. “But do you want to give me something?”

Instead of trying to cover yourself up, you let him fully see you in the sunlight. The way his eyes darkened, he liked what he saw. “What did you have in mind?” you asked, your voice huskier than before.

“Well, Bucky and the guys are having a small thing for me tonight,” he said, lightly running his fingers along your torso. “Would you, maybe, want to go?”

Not what I thought he’d have in mind, but that kind of sounds like a date.

“Sure,” you smiled, happy that he wanted to see you again. “I’d love to go.”

Watching his face light up was almost like you gave him a real gift. “Is it selfish to ask for one more thing?” he asked, bracing himself over you before he leaned down to capture your mouth.

Any self-conciousness about your breath and anything else disappeared as desire took over. His cock was hard, trapped between your bodies as he lightly grinded against you. “That all depends on what you ask for,” you teased as he moved his kisses down your neck.

“Scream my name again. Do it while my tongue’s deep inside you,” he said as you bit your lip. It sounded more like a command and one you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “And do it again when I give you my cock.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“Louder than that, Rose,” he said, nipping your collarbone and making you giggle at the reference of your tattoo. “And since it’s my birthday, I get to eat as much as I want.”

“You really are going to be a thorn in my side, aren’t you?” you asked affectionately.

“I prefer to be the ache between your gorgeous thighs,” he smirked. “So open up and let me eat.”

Your legs spread without another word. You’d let him have his fill. It was his birthday, after all. And it would’ve been wrong to deny him.

Steve deserves it, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers #tattoo artist!steve rogers x reader #tattoo artist!steve rogers #sin on skin au #thorn and rose #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #tattoo artist au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

[jina1028]

Helping Hand

Yunho x fem!reader

Categories: roommates!au, smut, masturbation (fem), sex toys, fingering, oral (f rec), vaginal penetration, non protected sex (don't do this irl), creampie, Yunho has a big dick

You just got home from a "couples date" that your friend insisted so much you took part in because "Come on, you're single, I think I like him but it would be less awkward if there's someone with me, and he has a single friend as well who's looking for a partner... Pleaseeee". Your friend begged until you reluctantly agreed, how bad could it be if you faked a little interest during the dinner and then parted ways forever after?

You thought you could do this sacrifice for her but you couldn't imagine the dickhead that would be your "date". He introduced himself looking between your eyes and your tits, he talked about how he wanted a woman that could settle down giving up her career if she happened to have one, because "men and women should have specific roles in society, they should think about cleaning home and raising children" and complained about the difficulty of finding such women nowadays, to which you thought you had an idea why he was single. For the sake of your friendship you bit your tongue everytime he said something stupid and your friend would nudge you in the ribs to warn you.

She later apologized, saying she had no idea he would be such a moron, but that still left you bitter. If he wasn't the man of your life you could still find someone nice to spend lonely nights with, to satisfy you sexually at least, but he wasn't even worth sharing your name with in your opinion.

You huffed closing the door of your apartment and kicking off your heels. Your roommate, Yunho, said he was going out with friends that night so that meant you were home alone for a while. You called his name to make sure and waited in silence for a second, no response.

You strolled to the bathroom to take a nice shower and get ready for bed. When you finally layed in bed though you felt the need to steam off your frustration so you closed your eyes and dipped your hand inside your panties, starting to draw slow circles on your clit, your wetness soon starting to collect between your folds, helping in your task to get off. But it still wasn't enough so you reached for the drawer of your nightstand looking for your vibrator, still massaging your slick clit with the other hand. You found it right away and turned it on at a low setting, resting it on your swollen clit. You let out a whimper at the feeling, thanking the fact that Yunho was still out.

Yunho. He entered your mind in that moment. You actually always thought your roommate was attractive but never wanted to take the risk of ruining your relationship with him, it would be awkward if he turned you down. So you settled for simple glances whenever he showed some more skin or laying next to him on the sofa watching TV, gladly accepting his absentminded caresses on your calves or little innocent squeezes of his large hand on your thigh when you sat crosslegged next to him focused on some action movie. You actually thought Yunho was hot, with his deep but soft voice, his tall figure and broad shoulders, and his funny and sweet personality.

Your mind began spiralling with thoughts of Yunho and what you would do to him, setting the vibrator on a higher speed, little moans and whimpers slipping from your throat, until your orgasm washed over you, your thighs clasped together, short breaths leaving your mouth, your heart racing.

You took just the time to clean up and went to sleep feeling much lighter.

That night you dreamt about Yunho.

The next morning you were woken up by a knock on your bedroom door, Yunho's voice calling your name "Wake up, I brought breakfast from our favorite cafe" he sang from outside the door. You stretched, yawning and groggily getting up from bed, reaching for the door handle and pulling the door open. You were met with a broad chest in a lopsided oversize t-shirt and a sweet tight lipped smile on your roommate's face. You startled a little, making him laugh while he took your wrist and excorted you to the table where sat a cream filled pastry and a hot cappuccino waiting for you, along with his own breakfast.

"Sorry I scared you, I was just about to peer inside to check if you were still sleeping when you opened the door and found me there".

"It's ok, I'll let it slide this one time just because I really love this pastry" you joked before biting said pastry and taking a sip of cappuccino from your cup.

"Ahh thank you for your magnanimity" Yunho exaggerated his bow leaning with his forehead on the table and clasping his hands together above his head, at which you snorted, almost sending your chewed bite to the wrong side of your pipe.

"So how was your date?" he inquired while you gulped some water to make sure not to suffocate yourself.

"It went so bad I actually have no words, he was a real moron" you started, recalling the worst, most memorable sentences you had to hear the night before, Yunho reacting as theatrically as he could, seeing how much you were involved in your storytelling to try and lighten your mood and succeeding.

"When did you come back last night? I didn't hear you, maybe I was asleep" you asked wanting to change the topic of your conversation.

"Oh..." he hesitated, averting his eyes from your face, a light hue of pink tingeing his ears "I stayed home and played a bit on my PC, the guys cancelled our plans last minute."

You felt your blood draining from your face "Were... were you wearing your headset? You didn't hear me come home?" You tried to act nonchalant, like nothing happened in your room, looking casually inside your cup while sloshing the liquid around, missing the way Yunho gazed at you, a little smile threatening to manifest on his lips. "I did hear you come" he answered, his gaze finally locking with yours.

You tried to clear your throat and come up with something to say but suddenly you felt so self concious, your now red face and burning cheeks, your trembling voice, wide eyes, lip biting, how much did Yunho hear? Your brain short circuited, then Yunho said the least expected "Want me to help you next time?"

Did you hear that right? Was he serious? Was he trying to make fun of you? He liked to joke around, yeah, but he would never try to embarrass you like that, would he?

Seeing you struggle with whatever was going on in your head Yunho decided to make a move and rested his hand on yours on the table "Tell me if I'm wrong and we'll pretend like this conversation never happened if you want to, but I think I saw some signals from you all this time... And I honestly think you're hot and I was kinda jealous every time you went out for a date, and even more when you would send me a text telling me you were staying out the night and not to worry about you. I wished it were me you were spending those nights with." he confessed lowering his voice on the last part.

This couldn't be a joke, you were sure now, so you decided to be bolder and answer to his previous question with a question of your own "What if I told you I need your help right now?"

Yunho smirked standing up from his seat and approaching you, bending down to brush his lips on your ear while purring "I'll never deny you a helping hand."

Your lids fluttered closed while he carefully caressed your cheek. You followed the movement of his hand chasing it with your lips to softly kiss the tips of his fingers. Yunho took advantage of that movement to move his lips from your ear to tour jaw and to your neck, leaving a trail of feather like kisses, the little hairs on your neck standing up from the shivers that traveled down your spine, a little gasp escaping your mouth. He brought his hands to your waist, squeezing and pulling a little soliciting you to lift up. When you did he attached his lips to yours, inhaling your smell deeply through his nose. He started walking you backwards towards your bedroom, pulling and biting your bottom lip, slipping his tongue in your mouth. You weren't caught off guard though and took the opportunity to suckle on his tongue, sending a shiver directly to his cock, making him groan as he pressed you to your bedroom door. You could feel his boner rubbing on your hip while he fumbled with the door handle. You stumbled to your bed pulling Yunho down with you, still kissing and playing with his tongue. Your hands went to his hair on the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark locks and pushing him to deepen the kiss. When he pulled away for air he stood on his knees to get rid of his t-shirt and with your approval he helped you strip too, pulling up your pajama shirt and letting out a little gasp and a curse under his breath when he found out you weren't wearing a bra. He attacked your neck sucking and biting, while lightly grazing your breasts and nipples with one hand and pressing his knee between your legs, rubbing your clit and eliciting a moan from you.

"Do it again" he groaned, doing the same motion to earn another sound from you. He suddenly felt greedy, wanting to hear more sounds, so he made you lift your hips to remove your pants, being greeted by a wet patch staining your panties, sticking and outlining your pretty pussy, not leaving much to Yunho's imagination. He was in heaven, finally being able to be the source of your pleasure, if it depended on him you wouldn't have needed to get off on your vibrator anymore, he wanted to be the only reason for your beautiful moans. He buried his nose in your clothed pussy and nudged your clit, wanting to hear more of your sounds, pulling your panties to the side, slipping his fingers through your folds and experimentally pushing one digit inside. Your little moans turned to whimpers and sobs when he inserted a second finger and curled them up, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, his mouth latched to your clit, suckling.

"Yunho, stop teasing and fuck me already" you lamented.

"Wow, not even a 'please' or 'thank you', so rude" he chuckled but nonetheless he detached from you to get rid of his pants and boxers, freeing his hard erection. You ogled at it with big eyes, never having seen anything like that in real life, long, girthy, veiny, slightly curved up and already leaking precum, it looked delicious.

Yunho peeled your panties off, impatient to stuff your pussy with his cock when he remembered "Wait, I don't have a condom".

"I'm clean and on birth control" you reassured him, impatience taking the best of you.

"I'm clean too. So do I really get to fuck you raw?" he beamed.

"I'm waiting" you urged him, to which he launched himself on top of you, kissing and biting your neck, grinding his hips into yours, mixing your slick with his precum.

When he finally pushed inside he had to go slow because of his size, in order for you to adjust. Both of you groaning with every little push until he bottomed out, resting on top of you until you gave him permission to start moving. You were ecstatic, every time he thrusted back inside it felt like he filled you more and more, and his pace was just perfect, hard enough but not so much to hurt you, fucking you so good. You thought so until he lifted your legs hooking them in his elbows, his hands pressed to the mattress on your sides, pistoning in long, smooth motions, hitting your clit with his pelvis with every move, perfectly angled to reach your g-spot. That's when you felt like you were living an out of body experience, you were transcending reality.

Yunho tried to stay quiet in order to listen to your every grunt and moan, allowing himself to only let out little groans and huffs, until he felt your walls contracting again and again on his cock, splurting clear liquid around him and on the sheets, urging him to reach his own climax and making him come hard inside of you with a deep growl, spilling and spilling, pulsing and twitching until with a last roll of his hips he stilled, then finally let go of your legs, rolling off of you to collapse on your side, panting hard.

Both of you stayed like that for a minute, spent and sweaty, catching your breaths. You finally rolled on your side intertwining your legs with his, smiling up at him "I think I'll need your help pretty often from now on"

Yunho smiled back at you, kissing your nose "I was hoping for 'every day', but 'pretty often' is ok too."

#kpop smut #ateez smut #fanfic #yunho smut #yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #smut

[tacticaldiary]

just found ur account, u post some rly awesome stuff. i was just wondering if you could write a fic for either the 141’s ghost or price in an established relationship with the reader and they forgot the readers birthday?

Forget Me Not

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt No Comfort

Simon's a sharp man. He can't afford to be anything less, lest he ends up with a bullet in his back but it's most often the more mundane and meaningful things that slip his mind. Her birthday, for example.

Masterlist

There wasn't an expectation to go all out for every little celebration in their lives. Both Simon and her were relatively quiet people, preferring to keep celebrations more intimate between them. A small gift for an anniversary, a walk along the beach. It was the little things that were the most special to her, they showed her that grandeur and big gestures weren't the only means of expressing love so deep and devoted.

But never had it come to one of them completely withdrawing.

Their birthday were a slightly more lively affair, having more people involved. Simon, of course, was not particularly fond of having his own but hers? In the past he'd arranged surprises for her on the day, whether that be contacting her family and friends or pulling her out of bed in the morning with breakfast he'd made just for her.

It's why it's so surprising to see him go about his morning like a completely normal day.

He'd kissed her in the morning, no different than how he does every day, went about the house gathering his gear for work that day. Nothing special, just a debrief he needed to attend in the afternoon.

"You'll be going in today?" She asks, unable to keep the slight frown off her face. Her coffee cup is set on the counter with a small 'clink.'

He nods, leaning down to lace up his boots. "Got a debrief at noon. Johnny's been yapping our ears off about a new bar he found so I've no doubt he'll find a way to drag everybody there afterwards." He rolls his eyes but she can tell it's in a fond way.

As disinterested as Ghost might act, she knows he's fond of his team.

Ghost nods, straightening up once he's done with his boots. "Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She watches, a little stunned as he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead before hitching his bag over his shoulder.

Oh.

She didn't think he'd...forget.

"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?" She asks half thinking he's playing some sort of joke on her. He couldn't have forgotten...right? Simon was normally so good with these things. He'd never forgotten before. "Something else that's today? Something important, maybe?"

He gives her a blank look, coming to a stop next to her. "Nothing important enough to remember." He responds, pulling out his keys.

She knows he doesn't mean it like it sounds to her, but that doesn't stop the pang of sudden hurt. Nothing worth remembering?

He was probably trying to be funny with that dry humour of his, but after waking up to him already out of bed, excited to spend the day with him, finding out he'd be going to spend some time in some bar instead of with her today...

It really does sting.

She knows she could call out to him, just tell him that it's her birthday today, but part of her just...doesn't want to. If it wasn't worth remembering, maybe she should celebrate by herself this year...

He calls out a goodbye. The front door opens. Shuts close behind him.

Silence.

She draws in a long, slightly shaky breath and picks up her coffee mug, willing the stinging in her eyes to recede.

                                 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Simon's had a pretty smooth day so far, which is something that almost never happens. The debrief went smoothly confirming that the Russian intel they'd spotted the other day had been solid enough to warrant the extraction op the team was to take in two weeks time. The bar Johnny had been so eager to show them hadn't been half bad either.

The decor was old 80's themed, a nice polished mahogany bar spanning the entire length of a wall. Ghost had taken to sitting down with a whiskey, watching Price and Gaz play pool while making idle conversation with Johnny sat by his side.

Well, 'conversation' was a generous word. It was mostly Johnny doing the talking with him answering every now and then, or chiming in with a hum to show he was still listening.

"I'm surprised your still hear, you know." Johnny says, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his drink.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Had a fight with the missus?" Gaz's voice joins in, the other two having wrapped up their game. He orders a drink for himself before sliding into the stool next to Ghost. "Got to agree with Soap on this one. I'm bloody surprised you're in deep enough shit to spend the night here instead."

Ghost stares at them like they're stupid. Maybe they are, because neither of them are making a lick of sense to him.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He drains the last of his whiskey, not missing the look exchanged by the other two men.

"Mate-" Gaz says incredulously.

"Nah, he's not that daft." Soap cuts him off. "He's just fucking with ya."

Gaz narrows his eyes at Ghost. "I don't think he is."

"He's gotta be. Everyone knows-"

"Will either of you spit it out?" He sets his glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary.

"Bloody hell, you did forget." Gaz whispers. "Oh, you're a dead man." Soap recognising the frustrated twitch of Ghost's hand decided to blurt it out before hands get thrown.

"It's your lass' birthday today." Soap says. "Don't tell me ya forgot."

Ghost go through a rush of feelings all at once.

First in disbelief. He's not stupid, of course he'd remember something as simple as a birthday, especially hers. The second is doubt, because the look on Gaz's face is one so full of pity it makes him uncomfortable.

Ghost pulls out his phone to check the date and...

Shit.

The third feeling is disbelief. There's no way he just forgot. Someone must be fucking with him.

"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?"

"Nothing important enough to remember."

The barstool scrapes as dread and guilt twist his gut. Grabbing his coat, he makes for the door without another word, cussing out Johnny for the cackle he laughs behind his back as he leaves in more of a hurry than anyone's ever seen him.

8pm. He'd spent the entire day taking the piss with the guys on the one day that should have been dedicated to her.

He'd been away for so long, arriving home only a few days ago and he'd just...left her again. Granted, those few days being so busy had been out of his control but still. That wasn't an excuse, he decides, turning on the car.

He hadn't been busy today, and had had the time to go back home to her after his debriefing.

His hands tighten around the steering wheel.

                                 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her earrings glint under the light of their bedroom. Staring at herself in the vanity, admiring the gorgeous dress her friend had gifted her for today, she can't help but feel a lack of excitement for the upcoming night.

Simon has really forgotten. She'd come to terms with it a couple hours ago when the sun had finally set and she'd realised that it wasn't a joke. He'd really, truly forgotten.

Going out partying hadn't been the plan at all, but when he friends had come over to give her a hug and presents, they'd seen her upset, still in her house clothes and decided it was completely unacceptable for her to spend the day like that.

Ushered into getting ready, they'd made plans to meet at this new upscale fancy restaurant before hitting a few clubs on the way back home.

Better than nothing, she reminds herself, chasing away thoughts of what her night might have looked like if Simon had stayed. No time for sulking, this was supposed to be a happy day. She was supposed to be happy.

So why does she feel tears sting at her eyes when she reaches for her purse to check if she has everything? Blinking them away, she takes a second to compose herself.

The key jingle in the lock, the sound echoing from the hallway into their bedroom. She tenses in surprise. Was he home?

Hope blooms in her chest. If Simon was home, maybe he did remember? Maybe he came home early to-

No.

No that wasn't right, she chides herself, smile slipping off her face. Even if he did remember now, that's not an excuse for forgetting the rest of the entire day, for leaving her feeling so shitty and going off to drink with the others.

Straightening her spine, she takes a deep breath and heads for the door. Her feet take her halfway down the hall before the front door flies open on its own, baring the man in question.

His knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping his keys, and some of the tension in his shoulders relaxes when he lays eyes on her. Something akin to relief, as if he might have thought she wouldn't be there when he got home.

"I-"

"Early night?" She straightens out her dress, feeling his eyes on her. He's quiet for a beat, assessing the situation before acting. Ever the soldier. "Mine's just starting." Her voice is as even as she can make it.

Simon shuts the door behind him. "I didn't realise-"

"That's right." He doesn't get to speak right now, doesn't get to fill her mind with pretty apologies and promises. Not this time, not tonight. "You forgot, Simon." A flash of guilt in his eyes makes her feel a pang in her chest she refuses to let take the reigns. "You forgot." She wavers for a moment, clears her throat to regain some control. "Nothing important enough to remember, right?"

It's a punch to the gut, hearing his words thrown back at him with the knowledge of how she interpreted them. His jaw clenches, frustrated at himself for letting something like this slip by him. "I'm going to make it up to you, yeah? Just let me-"

"No thanks." She shakes her head.

"Just let me finish," He narrows his eyes, a little irked at being cut off over and over again.

"No, Ghost." The way he tenses at his name being abandoned for his callsign is proof enough of how he's fucked up. "I don't want to hear it, alright?" She swallows. "I don't want to hear any of it, I'm going out, I'm going to have a good time on my goddamn birthday with my friends, and I'm not going to let you make me cry before I leave."

Cry? It's then that he notices how red her eyes are. Guilt slams into him hard enough to wind him, it worms it's way through his chest and eats him alive, gnawing on the little parts of his heart that haven't gotten calloused.

The first thing he notices when he walked in was how gorgeous she looked. Standing there in front of him in that dress, he's well familiar with most of her clothes, having been the one taking them off at the end of the day, but this one he hasn't ever seen before and it hugs her just right, enough to make his mind blank for a moment when he first walked in.

But he understands. Ghost sees the way she's clutching onto that purse of hers, the way her knuckles are white and the slight shake of her shoulders.

She's trying not to cry.

Because of him.

Fucking hell, that hurts. But not as much as what he's made her feel. Simon wants to argue, wants to tug her close and make it all better, but he sees that she means it, and hell does she deserve to have a good time after the way her morning went.

Simon steps aside with a tight nod.

Letting out what almost is a small, shaky sigh of relief, she brushes past him on the way out and Simon really doesn't have enough self control, because his hand wraps around her elbow to halt her in her tracks.

"I'm sorry, love." He says, so gently, so quiet. Such a stark difference to how he usually is. "I really am. And I will make it up to you, yeah? I promise."

A tight knot forms in her throat, threatening to send a fresh wave of tears at her conflicted feelings. It's all she can do to give him the barest of nods, avoiding his eyes.

"Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She echoes his words from the morning back to him before she shakes off his grip and leaves him alone.

An empty house, a mind full of buzzing remorse.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Reply and Like!

(11/07/2023)

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[thehighladywrites]

Beneath their smiles

ft. Rhysand

SUMMARY: You find out your friends used you for status, leaving you heartbroken. Rhysand is here for you<3

warnings: swearing, hurt, comfort,fluff, shitty friends, nice revenge.

A/N: Kind of a personal one for me, I used to have shitty friends like this so this was really satisfying to write😋

banners: @cafekitsune

There was nothing in the world that Rhys hated more than seeing you upset.

What could have possibly made his sweet darling this upset? You were sitting in his lap, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He had one hand supporting your back while the other was drawing soothing circles. You were crying your eyes out, hiccuping, not even managing to talk properly between sobs when he asked what had happened to you.

You sat there for hours, listening to him whisper calming words of love and support. Finally, you looked up to him and the sight broke his heart.

After your crying session, your eyes were bloodshot, puffy, and swollen. Dried tear streaks ran down your face, making you look utterly drained, vulnerable, and sad. His protective instincts upon seeing his mate in such a vulnerable state were going crazy. It made him start making plans to confront whatever or whoever had made his mate cry so much. But Rhysand didn’t push you to speak if you weren’t ready. He knew you’d tell them whenever you were.

You took a steadying breath and spilled everything that had happened before your eyes started to blur again.

"Rhysie, I had the most horrible day ever. My friends completely cut me off for no good reason. They all made secret plans to catch up, and I saw them in front of me, laughing and huddled together. I so so badly wanted to go up to them, but when I got closer, I overheard them say that they weren't going to include me in their plans. They also whispered that I was a burden to you, and that a low-born nobody like me was only useful when getting invited to balls and parties – that our friendship was just a charade for their own amusement. They'd pretended to be my friends, but in reality, I was nothing more than a pawn in their game of social climbing. So, it turns out they were never truly friends; they were just using me for access to the stupid parties they craved. I feel so foolish,Rhys. They always chattered about parties and festivals, but I thought they enjoyed my company. “

He kissed your temple and let you silently cry on his shoulder again. He masked any anger he had, because it wasn’t about his revenge now, it was about comforting you.

“Oh, my sweet darling, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. You deserve real friends who appreciate you for who you are, not just for the parties you can provide. You’re such a kind and wonderful person, and this experience with those vermins doesn’t define your worth at all. We’ll get through this together, my love. I promise you’ll find new, genuine friends who will value you for the amazing person you are, and who will see your kind heart and genuine soul. Remember that I’m always here for you, and I love you so much, okay? If you want to, we can banish them.”

You give him a tired smile and let out a sigh of comfort at the feel of love he sends through the bond. He gives you a sweet, loving kiss as he carries you to bed, tucking you to lay with one arm on his chest as you tucked your face in the crook of his neck. He had an arm protectively slung around your waist, keeping you as close as possible.

” Thanks Rhysie, m’so happy to have you forever. I love you s’much. But that’s not necessary, I have something better in mind. “

“ Of course darling, I love you too, can’t wait to hear about this diabolical plan my baby has planned. “

You let out a genuine laugh, and he gives you a last kiss before he pulls you closer. He runs his hands through your hair, as he always does whenever you’re upset, lulling you to a comforting sleep.

- - -

The night was beautiful, millions of starts decorated the dark sky, and the music filled the air. You and Rhysand were hosting an exquisite starfall party in your home. It was a celebration that enhanced the beauty of Velaris. A perfect night for some payback.

As the guests were flown up to The House of Wind, elegant guests in shimmering attire began to mingle with eachother. Among them was all of your friends and family from other courts, like Helion, Kallias and Vivienne, Thesan, Tarquin and so many more joined to celebrate.

Suddenly, at the edge of the entrance, your oblivious friends huddled together ready to dance the night away. Their faces masked with false smiles and ill intentions. They attempted to join the festivities, whispering and snickering, oblivious to the icy glares they received from your inner circle who knew of their betrayal.

However, the sentries, loyal to Rhysand, stood firm. As your friends approached, the guards blocked their path, not allowing them a step further.

"Sorry, but you can't enter," Declan, one of the sentries declared, his voice carrying authority.

Your friends exchanged bewildered glances, their arrogance suddenly shattered by reality. They had always been invites to the High Lords party, what the hell was going on?

"What do you mean?" one of them demanded, her voice tinged with false innocence. "We were invited."

The sentry raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. " We have specific orders to not let you in. In fact if you don’t move, I’ll throw all of you in a holding cell for the night. Move along. ”

Seeing the High Lord's sentinel not wavering their stance, the mean friends grew flustered. They attempted to argue, to demand, to manipulate. But Velaris, under the rule of Rhysand, had no place for those who betrayed and used others for personal gain. Especially not his perfect mate. No, they weren’t ever going to hurt you again.

” I think there has been a mistake. Do you know how we are? We’re friends with the Lady of night, and we’re always invited. So let us speak to Y/N she’ll know who we are. ”

Tired of seeing their pathetic attempts, you drag Rhysand over to them to resolve the situation. But before you can say anything, Rhysand speaks up as he looks at them with disgust and wrath.

"Your actions towards my mate and your Lady are disgraceful. It's clear you've treated her with cruelty and deceit. You've shown a complete lack of respect and compassion. In my city, I value loyalty and kindness, qualities you so clearly lack. Know that I won't tolerate any more harm coming her way, because if any of harrass my mate again, I’ll see to it that it’s the last thing you do.

You’ve been asked to leave once, and you won’t be asked again. This is a night of celebration and unity, not a place for your pathetic attempt at deception. Your presence here is unwelcome, and I will not tolerate any disruption. It’s in your best interest to leave now, before Declan makes good on his word. ”

You look to him with a small smile and say into his mind,

” Thank you honey, I don’t know if I would’ve had the strenght to say all that. I love you so much. ”

” I love you too, but don’t thank me darling, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. ”

Defeated and stunned your now former friends were left with no choice but to retreat, their faces flushed with embarrassment and anger as they slinked away from the entrance, watched by the crowd.

Observing the whole scene you both couldn't help but smile as he tightened his hold on you. He had protected his mate and ensured that the party remained a celebration of true friendships, leaving no room for something other than that.

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #acotar