#but he still has that same old soft spot for you
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Only An Almost (V)
Chapter 5: Doubting
Hello!! Here comes a new chapter! There are mentions of sex in this chapter, so a little reminder that this series is not meant to be read by minors. Thank you!
I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 2435
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
Three weeks passed. You had spent twelve nights together.
Now, Andrew knew every detail of your face as you reached orgasm, the beauty spot on your back he loved kissing, the perfect place across your neck to kiss and nip that made you squirm in his arms, the way the most intimate parts of you tasted, how your legs shook when his fingers touched that spot, how you smelled when he held you close after you were both content and happily floating above the room. He knew you liked to hold his hand right after sex, that you loved when he stroked your back or your cheek to help you ease down into the mortal world, that you took your showers way too hot, that you didn’t like when his beard brushed that part of your ribs because it tickled too much. He had mapped every inch of your body with his eyes, his fingers, his lips, his tongue. He knew how to pleasure you precisely by now, how to read through your breathing what you needed him to do to feel as good as possible, how to worship your body the way you deserved.
And judging by your gestures, you had spotted too that he adored when you kissed his collarbone and his chest. That he had a weak spot at the base of his neck, that he was ticklish right behind his knee, that he melted whenever you dragged your fingertips across his spine, and you tugged on his hair the perfect way nor too harsh nor too soft but the ideal strength that turned him on to no end. You had touched and kissed all of him too by now.
Despite this new intimacy, despite the tenderness with which you held him in your arms as he struggled to find back his breathing, the way you whispered his name in pleasure as if in a prayer, the way you showered him in gentle touches and kisses… you still acted the same as always outside the bedroom.
You talked the same, stood next to him at a perfectly respectable distance, asked him about his day and his mom and his bees the way you had always done, as if… as if there was nothing abnormal. As if he had not heard you shout his name in pleasure the night before. As if you could truly spend nights making love to him and act like nothing had changed, when… everything had changed.
Perhaps he just needed to be patient. You would come around. You would love him, eventually. Besides, he was probably not even the problem at all! You had told him that you didn’t want a relationship, with anyone. The fact that you were still sleeping with him showed that you liked him enough to blur that boundary, despite your decision. Yeah, it was an encouraging sign. If he just… if he just waited, and if he made efforts to make you happy and…
“Andy? You’re alright?”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re okay?”
He blinked back at you. You had put on an old t-shirt again to cover yourself, but he had nothing on. He felt naked, vulnerable, self-conscious. He drew the covers higher across his chest.
“You want some coffee before leaving? It’s pretty late,” you offered, and if there was kindness in the offer, it still broke his heart.
“I… I don’t know. I’m not sure I can drive,” he answered earnestly.
“You can sleep in the guest room, if you want.”
He looked away to hide the tears that gathered in his eyes.
He was inside you ten minutes ago, he had tasted you, touched you, made you unravel under him several times this evening… and all you could give him was the guest bedroom?
It wasn’t just heartbreak, he realized. It was more vicious than that. You made him feel terrible about himself. Did he not mean more to you than that? You could let him do all these things to you… but you couldn’t fall asleep in the same bed? Really?
“No, no, no… it’s okay, I can drive.”
“It’s late, stay the night. You’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s dangerous, Andy.”
“I said I’m fine.”
You frowned at the harshness of his tone.
“What’s wrong? Did I… Did I do something wrong while we were…”
You left your sentence suspended in mid-air, as if you couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say that you had just had sex with him. What the fuck was wrong with you?
“Sex was amazing, that’s not the problem.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
You seemed to truly have no clue. You seemed genuinely concerned, worried even. Like you cared. Like you cared so fucking much for him. And yet, he was worthy of a moment of pleasure, and the guest bedroom…
“Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m not tired enough to stay, don’t worry. I can drive home.”
“Can you text me, then, when you’re home?”
“Don’t worry…”
“It’s two in the morning, of course I worry.”
He didn’t argue, merely nodded.
He gathered his clothes, got dressed, left without trying to kiss you, he knew you wouldn’t let him.
No kissing without sex.
He was about to fall asleep after mere minutes behind the wheel, so he stopped on the first parking spot he saw. He waited for a plausible time, and texted you.
I’m home.
Your answer buzzed in his pocket right when he was about to fall asleep.
Good to hear. Sleep well, Andy. Xx
He couldn’t keep on doing this for long. Making love to you, and then feeling like shit about himself because you couldn’t bother letting him fall asleep in your bed. Or hold you close. Or kiss you before leaving.
He closed his eyes, unable to decide on what to do next. Should he just call it quits, already? Stop everything and save himself from suffering… but he would stop having you like this too…
His breathing deepened as he finally surrendered.
Sleep well, Andy…
Rugby night at the pub had turned into Sam freaking out about his wedding, and Andrew taking notes about things he needed to help planning.
Luckily, there was no touring planned, no album to be released before the wedding. He had some charity work to be done, Mavis had called for a concert and he couldn’t refuse the woman anything… all in all, there wasn’t to come. Workwise, Andrew was in a writing phase, shutting himself up into his house for hours was most of what would happen in the coming months. He could help to plan the wedding, he had time for it. And considering the level of stress Sam was under, Andrew’s help wouldn’t be too much…
“Daphne started to mention appetizers yesterday… there are like… so many of these… How am I supposed to choose that? I didn’t fucking know there could be so many appetizers?!”
“Sam, calm down, for Christ’s sake! You’re this far from having a stroke.”
“Easy for you to say, Andy! You’re not the one getting married!”
“You have five months, Sam… Five months. There is plenty of time for you to choose your appetizers.”
“Add it to the list. How many things do we have to plan?”
“Hmmm… I think I’m up to twenty…eight. Twenty-eight things.”
“God… why did I ask Daphne to marry me…”
Andrew opened his mouth to offer a joke, but Sam shushed him with a raised finger.
“Rhetorical question. Don’t.”
“Come on, relax, Sam. You’ll be perfectly fine. Everyone else manages to plan a wedding, you can too.”
“Not everyone else… don’t you remember the fiasco that my uncle’s wedding was?”
“I sang at that wedding!”
“That was the only decent part in the entire day.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
“You were seventeen, don’t get ahead of yourself, you were still pretty shite.”
“Ha, there you go. I thought someone had replaced you with some weird doppelgänger stuff. Or a clone, even.”
“Android?”
“Or organic.”
“Did I grow in a tube?”
“Yeah… with the disgusting liquid.”
“Nice…”
The two friends exchanged a smile.
“Please, stop being so worried. Your wedding will be amazing. Besides… who cares about appetizers? The important part is you marrying the love of your life.”
“I know that this comes from a very romantic point of view, but that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’ve met my mom. God, you’ve met Daphne’s mom… anything goes wrong, it’ll be the bloody apocalypse!”
“We’ll find your body somewhere in Wicklow…”
“In the bog.”
“Tragic. I can see the headlines already…”
“I’m sure you’ll have a lovely speech for my funerals, though.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll reveal my true feelings about you, gobshite.”
Sam couldn’t keep the act up any longer, and both him and Andrew exploded with laughter.
“I’m picturing your mother just… shouting at you about appetizers,” Andrew laughed, choking and tears pearling at the corners of his eyes as he doubled over.
Sam was barely breathing at this point, throwing his entire body backwards against the chair.
It took the two of them a moment to calm down. When he looked at his friend again, Sam’s gaze was full of fondness.
“I’m sorry to bother you about that while we could be watching rugby with the rest of the lads.”
“It’s alright. You’re stressed. Besides, I don’t have a real job, plenty of time on my hands to handle your nervous breakdowns.”
“True! You parasite.”
“Absolute junk of our society.”
“Nothing productive coming from you, that’s for sure.”
“I shout very loudly though, it ought to be worth something.”
“Well, apparently, it’s worth millions.”
“Do you want me to shout at your wedding?”
Sam’s lips curled into a smile.
“Aren’t you too expensive for a poor lad like me.”
“Undoubtedly. But if you promise to quit freaking out about appetizers, I might yield.”
“It would be amazing. Thank you, Andy. I’d love for you to sing. Actually, we’ve been talking about it with Daphne… could you do Work Song for our first dance?”
“It would be an honour. Of course, I can.”
“We were hesitating with Cherry Wine…”
“Don’t do this to me, Sam.”
They both exploded with laughter again.
“Don’t do this to me. I will never understand…”
“Don’t people just… listen to the lyrics?” nodded Sam.
“I don’t know, man…” Andrew heaved a sigh. “Sometimes they just kill me.”
His phone buzzed, and there was your name on it. Printed there in the pixels. He didn’t check your text, even though he wanted to.
“Andy?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s going on between you and Y/N?”
Andrew averted his gaze, drank some of his beer. On the screen at the back of the pub, Ireland was earning three points with penalty kick. People were shouting, and it was loud and merry.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” Andrew answered, a terrible liar.
“You’ve been weird.”
“I’m always weird.”
“True, but not the usual weird. You’re not on the ‘I love her and I’m too much of a fool to tell her’ kind of weird, you’re on a ‘I feel like shite’ kind of weird.”
“Both miserable situations…”
“True. But then, you’re a moron, it doesn’t help.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
Andrew heaved a sigh.
“I can’t tell you about it. She asked me not to tell you about it.”
“So… something did happen between you and Y/N.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“You can’t tell anyone about this, Sam. I’m serious.”
“Of course, I promise.”
“Not even Daphne.”
“Don’t push it. There are no secrets between us.”
“Sam… please… it’s not your secret, it’s mine.”
He heaved a sigh, but Sam nodded anyway.
“What’s wrong then?”
Andrew struggled to swallow when he lifted his glass of Guiness up to his lips.
“Y/N and I, we… we’ve slept together.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
“What?! But… that’s amazing!”
“Is it?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” retorted Sam, taken-aback.
Andrew heaved a painful sigh and rubbed his eyes.
“Because she doesn’t want to be in a relationship.”
“Oh.”
“So, we’ve agreed on some kind of… friends with benefits situation. And I… I’m starting to regret it.”
“You bet. Damn… why the fuck would you agree to something like that, though? You’re crazy about the woman!”
“I know, I know… I thought… I thought that she would… I don’t know what I thought. It was that or nothing, and I guess I imagined that having a part of her was better than not having her at all. I was wrong. This is fucking killing me.”
Andrew buried his head in his hands.
“What the fuck did I do, Sam? What did I do? And what the fuck do I do now?”
“Do you want this to go on?”
Andrew shook his head no, face still in his palms.
“Then, tell her you want it to stop.”
“I don’t want this to stop. I don’t want… not to have her. I want to date her.”
“Tell her that then.”
“She explicitly told me that she didn’t want to date anyone. If I say that, she’ll just… leave. She won’t say yes.”
“You need to speak to her. It won’t end well for you, Andy. What if she feels the same?”
“I’ll wait for her,” Andrew answered without a hesitation. “I’ll wait as long as she needs.”
“Then tell her that.”
But Andrew blinked back some tears as he painfully rubbed at his palms.
“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What then?”
“Then… you’ll move on. It will only mean that she isn’t the one.”
Andrew slowly nodded, resting his chin in his palm and his elbow on the table, but he didn’t seem convinced, and indeed, he wasn’t. What if he lost you for good then? What if you never wanted to see him again? Was it worth it?
“You’re going to do something stupid, I can feel it,” Sam sighed with a shake of his head.
“No…”
“You’re going to ignore my advice.”
“No, I… I’m weighing the pros and the cons.”
“And?”
“And I agree that I can’t handle my relationship with Y/N being just about sex. But I am also terrified at the thought that she will reject me for good. Cause I… I don’t think I could still be her friend. Not after… knowing her that way.”
“Can I be brutally honest?”
“As if you aren’t always…”
“You’ve seriously fucked up accepting this situation with her…”
“Don’t I know it.”
Sam stared at his friend for a moment.
“You really do love her, don’t you?”
Andrew settled an empty stare on his beer.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m afraid I do.”
#hozier#the hoziest#andrew hozier byrne#hozier x reader#hozier x y/n#hozier x you#hozier x fem!reader#hozier fanfiction#hozier fanfic#hozier series#series#fanfic#fanfiction#writing
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DISJOINTED - han taesan x reader
there are far worse things to be addicted to
PAIRING: taesan x reader GENRE: established relationship, fluff | WORDCOUNT: 1.7 k WARNINGS: weed/marijuana use, smooching, minimally suggestive
The high hits you slowly, then all at once. Each time you double over to echo Jaehyun’s laughter at Riwoo’s jokes, your consciousness moves first and your body follows, slow and stilted.
There’s a fuzziness behind your eyes, like the static of Taesan’s old records that has you reeling, head tilting back against the seat of the scratchy sofa.
You stay like that for a bit, letting your thoughts drown out the faint hum of noises bouncing around the walls of Leehan’s basement. Thinking of nothing and everything. Losing yourself in the haze.
There's a drag of cold fingertips against your cheeks, wandering to tuck your stray hairs behind your ear, that brings you back. The same touch tugs at the lobe gently to coax your eyes open.
You’re rewarded with a glimpse of Taesan’s soft eyes as he takes you in. The lazy smile that pulls a bit wider at your lips, and the breathless laugh that escapes them as you reach out for him instinctively.
Taesan obliges, like he always does, scooping you up from your spot on the floor to flop unceremoniously half on the sofa, half on his lap.
“You’re finally here. I missed you, you took fucking forever,” you complain with a stifled yawn. A swift kiss is pressed to your cheek, the silent apology accepted with a roll of your eyes.
“You can't possibly have missed me that much. Looks like you were having tons of fun on your own, getting started without me,” Taesan teases. His hands slide under the hem of your shirt to rub at the small of your back, snorting as you jolt at the icy temperature.
You try to wiggle away from his frosty touch but Taesan only snakes his arms around you tighter, trailing goosebumps across your skin. “I didn't have much choice,” you grumble, “It was either smoke or have Jaehyun hog and finish it all before I can even get a whiff.”
There's a faint yell of indignation from across the room that you ignore, instead busying yourself with untangling Taesan’s chains. You follow and separate the twists in the links up towards his neck. Your boyfriend stills his motions, busying himself instead with admiring the way your brows knit as you pull them apart.
(It was a mystery to you how Taesan’s necklaces always managed to get so tangled. You could never recall him having such problems before you started dating. Luckily for him, you were more than happy to indulge his whims and untangle them at the beginning of every meeting.)
When you’re nearly done, and you've reached the nape of his neck, the pads of your fingers brush against the long strands of Taesan’s overgrown hair. They come back cold, and you freeze looking up to blink at him owlishly, “your hair’s wet,” you say, voice tinged with bewilderment.
Taesan leans back in a laugh, hands too occupied holding your waist to shield his smile like they normally would. “You’ve only just realized?” He shakes his head like a dog, spraying you with the remnants of the droplets that cling to his bangs.
The splatter of cold beads makes you shriek and once again you try to cringe away from him but Taesan keeps you firmly in his grasp, smirking as you resign yourself to your captivity. “I showered before I rushed over here,” his voice teasing as he raises an eyebrow at you, “how far gone are you that you didn't even notice?”
It's futile to deny it when your eyes are so clearly rimmed red and your head so far in the clouds but you do it anyway. “I'm not that high,” you wink, “I was just too distracted by your pretty face to pay attention to anything else.”
Taesan simply snorts, unconvinced but amused enough to not contest your obvious lies. He settles into the couch, resting his head atop yours and a comfortable silence descends upon you. Drowsiness tugs at you and you melt with your head lolled in the crook of his neck while the pair of you watch the antics of the others.
Normally, you'd be thrown in the mix, bickering with Jaehyun and playing tricks on Sungho, but the high has you choosing to refrain from participating. Instead, you’re buried in Taesan’s arms, refusing to shift from his lap even when he jokingly whines about being suffocated and crushed.
Past all the exaggerated groans, Taesan loves nights like this when you’re pliant, putty in his hands and clinging to him like a second skin. Taesan is free to monopolize you without any teasing remarks. Relishing instead the way you shake with laughter at the jokes he whispers into the shell of your ear, and the giggles he draws from you when he noses at your neck playfully.
“Alright lovebirds, if you’re done being gross, I rolled the last of it. We’re headed out to grab some pizza if you two want to come,” Leehan approaches with a joint held out in his grasp. You immediately perk up, reaching for it eagerly when a much longer arm intercepts, grabbing it before you can blink.
“You guys can go, we’ll stay here. Y/N is more out of it than usual,” Taesan interjects, ignoring the way your jaw drops and the subsequent protests that follow. The whole time he holds the joint firmly out of your reach as you wrestle the limb down to try and take it.
The commotion is enough to attract Jaehyun's attention, and he descends upon you like a hyena. “Awww little baby Y/N can't hang?” His laughter rings mockingly through your ears as he pinches your cheek.
You splutter at the accusation, staring at Taesan to see if he was really going to let your dignity be slandered like this. “Taesan you're not serious?” you whine, trying to shake reason into him as the rest of the boys file out of the basement with calls of goodbyes and laughs.
“I am serious, I’m not gonna let you smoke yourself sick baby,” Taesan shakes his head, easily slipping in the pet name now that it was only the two of you. You give up on arguing any further, making your displeasure apparent with the way you cross your arms tightly, refusing to face him.
Taesan only chuckles in amusement at your petty display, digging into the pocket of jeans for his lighter. He dangles it in front of you, the familiar scuffs marring the engraved silver. “Wanna do me the honors?” his eyebrows wiggle goadingly.
There's a brief silence as your narrowed eyes ping pong between the smirk on his face and the lighter, your initials that Taesan had etched into it staring back at you mockingly. With a tortured sigh you snatch it from him, “I can’t believe you’re making me light you a joint that you won't even let me smoke,” you grumble.
“But if I light it myself you’d end up sulking because I didn't ask,” he snorts, knocking his head softly into yours. You don't bother responding (mostly because he’s right), busying yourself by popping the cap off and flicking the lighter on.
Taesan ducks closer to let the tip of the roll between his teeth meet the flame, the fire casting a warm light across the contours of his face. His eyes flicker up to meet yours and you're trapped in the warm amber of his gaze, remembering just why this was one of your favorite things to do.
The soothing chill of his fingers wraps around yours to hold the lighter steady until a tendril of smoke rises between you two and he’s leaning back with a content hum.
It's a captivating sight, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he inhales. The smoke billowing from Taesan’s plump lips to curl and swirl upwards, charting the lines of his features. You can see the moment he takes to assess you, mulling over an idea while you patiently wait for him to share what's occupying his mind.
His answer comes in the form of hands tracing your jaw to pull you in closer, fingers tilting your chin upwards. There’s a gentle tap on your lower lip prompting you to part them, you comply and Taesan grants you a pleased smile at your uncharacteristic obedience.
It makes your cheeks burn with an odd satisfaction, but you have little time to think further as Taesan takes a deep drag of the joint, your chin still firmly in his grasp. He leans in, pausing to wordlessly ask your permission and when you lean closer, he meets you halfway.
There’s a quick brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a second till he’s exhaling. And Instinctively you inhale, the whisper’s distance between you bridged by a stream of smoke.
You hold it in the back of your throat for a moment before letting go, and in the same breath you rush to tease him airily, “I thought I was banned from smoking for tonight, your highness.”
Taesan slides his hand from your chin down towards your nape, his touch sweeping against your jaw. “Well… you looked so pitiful I decided to have mercy on you,” he drawls, eyes glinting mischievously in the dim light.
“Yeah right,” you scoff, “More like you just wanted an excuse to kiss me.”
Taesan shrugs, looking far from bashful as he admits smugly, “Not that I need an excuse to kiss you but sure, that might have been a motivator.”
And now you’re breathless for a different reason as Taesan takes full advantage of the complaints that threaten to spill from your lips, silencing them instead with a firm press of his mouth on yours.
The minutes pass by like that, the two of you caught in languid kisses, only separating for much needed air or for a heatless glare when Taesan bites at you teasingly.
The joint’s long abandoned, lost somewhere in the crevices of the couch to be found weeks later. For there's no high quite as intoxicating or as addicting as the one you get from Taesan’s lips.
a/n: this started as a 2 am brain rot that I ended up spending way too much time on. hope u enjoyed :)
stream HOW? n EWF!!! n tell me ur fav song off the album (mine's amnesia)
#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor imagines#kflixnet#k labels#taesan x reader#taesan imagines#Taesan scenarios#boynextdoor x reader#Taesan X you#boynextdoor fic#taesan fluff
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spacing out during finals, and imagined a scenario where childhood s/o and aki are in elementary school- a kid trips little s/o in the mud and little aki gets them back by sticking gum in their hair (╥﹏╥) cause bro really be doing that fr 💀
anon... don't get me started... my heart has been yearning so much for childhood friends with aki these days.......
and he would totally do that too, young aki would pick a fight with anyone who bullies you or makes you cry. when he gets a little older, he's actually quite intimidating to the rest of the students, so just sticking with him is enough to ensure no-one tries to mess with you. he'll always make an effort to include you even when everyone else isn't; you're practically stuck together like glue, and even though any rumors about the two of you barely ever reach your ears, you're sure they've noticed how you and aki are rarely seen apart from one another.
#childhood friends with aki where you and aki are best friends since you were kids and simultaneously each other's only friends#I always imagined that people would often treat aki like an outcast#the gun devil attack is such a touchy subject#the other students just see him as weird and rude and unapproachable#so you end up as really the only person he trusts enough to confide in#it's also pretty obvious he's training to become a devil hunter#which kind of makes people scared of him lol#aaaauuuuuuuu I wanna write about this so bad#I think I'll start working on it when I'm done with my current long fic#I have a billion thoughts in my brain about this I could really go on and on forever about this au#just... being childhood friends with aki since the two of you were little kids#knowing everything he's been through and witnessing it all with your own eyes#the struggle between his desire to become a devil hunter#and you being the only thing he has left and the one person he cares about the most#and just.... when he leaves.... but then... when you finally meet again....#and so many things are different.... he went through so much and threw his life away over and over again#but he still has that same old soft spot for you#I'm going to go insaaaaaneeee!!!!#ask mags
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Soft Yandere Boyfriend Turns Rough when He Sees His Best Friend Flirting with You
Pairing: Soft Male!Yandere x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, gentle to rough sex, possessiveness, yandere behavior, marking, biting, hickeys, hands pinned above your head
A/N: He can be crazy, just a bit. A tiny bit.
Your soft!yandere boyfriend never hurt a soul. You didn't think him capable of such a thing, he was protective but very gentle, even avoiding fighting when it can be done. Luckily he was more on the muscular side so him looking at someone wrong tended to do the job. You also noticed that every time it happened he was a bit rougher with you in bed, like he needed an outlet.
The only time you saw your soft!yandere boyfriend get into a fight it was with his best friend after he flirted with you as a joke. At lest his friend insisted it was a joke but after that fight your boyfriend wasn't buying that excuse. He took you by the hand after he yelled at his friend some more and wasted no time walking you home and immediately stripping.
He needed you. He needed this. He needed to know you would never leave him. With teary eyes your soft!yandere boyfriend kissed you, telling you he was sorry you had to see that, see him lose his temper. After this he'll try to talk to his friend for crossing a line but first he has to make sure you still love him and want to be with him.
Like those times before he pins you against the bed, angling his cock with your entrance while his hands pin your hands above your head. At time like this he doesn't seem like the soft!yandere boyfriend that you feel in love with, he is almost a different person. He looks, sounds, smells the same but the way he fucks you couldn't be more different.
Soft!yandere boyfriend doesn't take his stormy eyes off yours as he makes love to you. He needs this reassurance, he needs to see the love in your eyes as they glaze over with each pump of his hips against your own. His full balls ache with the need to be drained by you, his cock pulsing and stimulating your deepest, most sensitive spots. You can hardly keep the eye contact but you don't want to stop looking at him when he's this wild, when he shows you this hidden, rough side of him.
Your soft!yandere boyfriend keeps this possessive side hidden even from you, only allowing you to see it in moments like there. Moments where he as to make sure you're his and he's yours. To further assure you both of this he allows you to scratch his back as you come, meanwhile his teeth find the soft flesh of your breasts, biting harshly, too hard, the spiking pain sending you over the edge and him soon after.
The next day your soft!yandere boyfriend is back to his old self, apologizing to getting rough but happy that you enjoy it. When he kisses even bruise and bite he left on you he decides to call his friend to try and make up with him. When the three of you meet up there a big, proud smile blooming on his face when his friend notices the hickeys peaking from behind both your shirts.
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere#male yandere#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere writing#yandere smut#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere x female reader#soft yandere#original writing#yandere x darling
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Wildest Dreams
James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities
When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.
Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.
"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late."
"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.
James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.
A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.
"Y/n," James whispers.
"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.
You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway.
Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.
Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.
He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed.
You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"
His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if —
Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been.
"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore.
You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.
A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms.
You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.
"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.
"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales.
"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor.
"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."
So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"
"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.
"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms.
McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"
William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."
"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.
"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.
"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."
You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.
* * *
A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.
However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.
"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him.
"You feeling okay?" James asks.
You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.
Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?
You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.
He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.
You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.
"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"
Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.
"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing.
Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"
"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"
Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.
He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him.
"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."
You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.
James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you.
He crushes you into a hug.
Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"
"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.
"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."
You pull away only to have him hold you closer.
"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.
"You smelt me? You're joking."
James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?"
You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"
James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?"
Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding.
James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."
As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically.
James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.
"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.
You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him.
James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.
You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.
His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer.
Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper.
James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me."
You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.
James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster."
You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?"
James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose.
"Well, he can start now," you smile.
James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"
You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"
James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.
You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."
James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"
"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him.
#james potter x reader#james potter#marauders#marauders fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter fluff#james potter smut#james potter x you#marauders imagine#james potter blurb#james potter imagines#james potter imagine#james potter fic#marauder james potter#maraduers harry potter#mauraders#marauders imagines#hp marauders#hp fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#marauders fanfiction#hp#hp fandom
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give me a kiss (or three) // lando norris
summary: matching clothes shouldn't turn lando on this much.
pairing: lando norris x female reader
warnings: smut, the worst description I have ever written, it’s a lil bit cringe. lando has a nickname for his dick, and a box of flavoured condoms in his bedside drawer. lowkey inspired by an audio posted by the wonderful @2-fast-2-curious. (I took a lot of creative liberties and added a ton of things, but the base idea is still there), there's more laughter than sex in here my dudes-
seeing lando norris wrapped up in the soft pink bedspread should not have warmed her heart the way that it did.
she had slipped out of the bed and ducked across the hallway to use the bathroom, and when she came back, her chest seized at the sight of her lover, his arms wrapped around the massive section of duvet that she was previously buried under.
she never thought she'd see the day, and she never thought she could feel this way about someone who felt the same way back.
she slowly began to dress, careful not to make any noise in the small bedroom. not only would she prefer not to wake her roommates, lando himself was a light sleeper and he needed to be well rested before they went to visit her parents that afternoon.
"sweetheart?" lando mumbled, messy-haired and groggy as he began to surface from underneath the duvet. "its so early, what are you doing awake?"
"i have to run to tescos, and then i have boxing at ten." she smiled softly, tightening the strap on her lacy bralette. "i wanted to let you sleep in. you'll need all your energy for the drive later."
lando snorted, sitting up straight, his curls matted by sleep and sticking to his skin. "there's no way you're wearing a bra that nice to your boxing class."
"i'll change when i get there." she chuckled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.
the blankets shifted with the movement, falling away from lando's thighs to where his royal blue boxers hugged his skin. the man looked down, and then over to the matching set his girlfriend was wearing before he let out a laugh.
"what's so funny?"
"your bra matches my underwear." lando snickered. "we match. a perfect pair."
she couldn't help but join in with her lovers laughter and mirth, looping her arm's around his neck with a chortle. his skin was warmed against hers, which had rapidly cooled since she had emerged from her blanket huddle and into the winter air that filled her home.
"you're so cringe." she giggled, standing between his legs, the slight shade of difference between their underclothes making her smile.
he was right. they were almost a perfect pair.
"cringe? you think i'm cringe?" lando feigned hurt, squeezing her sides playfully. he kissed her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as his hands roamed her lower body.
the kiss was passionate, yet playful, smiles evident on both of their faces (even when lando slipped his tongue into her mouth, earning a surprised shout).
"not as cringe as the time-" she stopped midsentence, whining as lando ran his tongue along the sweet spot on her neck before diving back in to kiss her. "you wore the monoply boxers."
"i thought 'wanna go to jail" was a great line!"
"yeah, for a fifteen year old boy!"
"it still worked, didn't it?" lando laughed, grabbing at her thighs to roll them over.
the duvet was soft and pillowy around her, bunched up just enoough around her that it narrowed her field of vision. all that existed in that moment was her and lando.
just the way she liked it. she loved it when they were silly like this, playful and sexy at the same time. an experience that felt so uniquely like the two of them and their love, and ensured that they never got tired of being intimate with each other.
"am i still cringe when i've got your wrists pinned to the bed?" lando smirked, his body a comfortable weight against hers, her wrists cradled against the goose down.
"i dunno." she smiled arching upwards to press her lips against his. "why don't we find out?"
lando grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "i like the way you think, but don't you have to go to boxing?"
"they won't miss me. i'm there three times a week as it is." she smiled, snaking one bare leg around his.
lando's touch was as familiar as her afternoon stretching routine. every brush of his fingertips against her skin made her feel powerful, like she could do anything. his lips were comfortable and warm against hers, yet new and exciting every time. lando's grip on her wrists let up, and she buried her fingers in his curls, tugging softly.
"fuck, babe. i love it when you do that." he moaned, lips dancing over the material of her bralette, tonguing at her peaked nipples.
"i know." she hummed, breath hitching. "oh, i love it when you do that."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, reverence in his eyes and a serene expression on his face as he continued to kiss across her collarbone, throughout the valley between her breasts. "you want my fingers, baby? want me to make you feel good?"
“please.” she keened, arching into him.
landos calloused fingers danced across her thigh, over the cluster of freckles that used to make her feel so insecure but he so dearly loved, reaching for the damp spot on her panties. his touch was feather light, running up and down her slit, barely applying any pressure at all.
“lando.” she breathed, making a show of spreading her legs wider for him.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” he hummed, tugging her panties to the side before dipping two fingers in with a moan. “all this for me? you’re so wet, love.”
“only for you.” she moaned, breath hitching as she dug her fingernails into landos shoulder blades, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat off her neck. “oh, baby.”
“such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so well.” he praised, using his free hand to guide her face towards his.
lando kissed her deeply, her hands moving to clutch his hair as his fingers fucked her deeper. every inch of her body was on fire with desire, pleasure pooling in her stomach, her lovers hard cock pressing against her stomach while he finger-fucked her to high heaven.
“oh my god, lando, fuck, I think I’m gonna-“
she didn’t have time to finish that thought before lando pulled his fingers out abruptly, making a show out of licking them off as she whined impatiently at her ruined orgasm.
“what the fuck, dude!”
lando just laughed, kissing her forehead. “payback, sweetheart. you called me cringe, so you don’t get to come.”
“fuck you.”
“I beleive you’re trying to.”
the room went awkwardly silent, so much so that you could hear a pin drop. and then, all at once, they both burst out laughing. the kind of laughter that makes your eyes water, your stomach start to hurt. Lando was laughing so hard that he dropped back onto the bed, bare chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling.
“why the fuck did I say that?” he cackled.
“I don’t know!” she laughed back. “if it helps, I thought it was cute, and it really made me want to suck your dick.”
“yes, actually. that does help.” landos eyes brightened as she shifted his position, sliding his boxers down his legs. “little lando has missed your pretty face.”
“little lando? god I hate that you have a nickname for your penis.”
“we’ll, if you’re going to insult him like that-“
“shut up.” she breathed, kissing him with a smile. “do we have any of those flavoured condoms left?”
lando grinned. “watermelon or fruit punch?”
she slipped off the bed, foot tangling with the flat sheet as she crouched in front of the bedside table, digging through the drawer for the small red box, searching for the elusive fruit punch condom.
she had never been a fan of giving head. there was something about it that had always just icked her out, but lando made her want to try. she wanted to expand her horizons with him, not for him. it took a lot of trial and error, but they found a way: flavoured condoms. this way, it was more enjoyable for her as well as him. it was akin to a warm ice lolly, rather than a body part.
she deftly ripped the packaging open, sliding the rubber shield onto landos cock. she positioned herself between his legs, taking a few deep breaths before taking his cock in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue up and down the shaft.
“oh my god!” lando moaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips. getting blown was always a treat for him, considering that y/n didn’t enjoy it all the time, finding it more stressful than it was worth. but every time she did it, he was reminded just how incredible she was at it.
it was a treat, one that he would savour until the end of time.
he bit his lip to stifle a moan, dropping his hand to the back of her head. he was big in her mouth, weighty against her tongue. she closed her eyes, sucking gently.
“god, you’re so perfect.” lando whined, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb on the side of her head. “taking me like such a good girl.”
she opened her eyes, chancing a look at the love of her life. she moaned at the sight of his rippling abs, body contorted in pleasure.
all because of her. she did that.
“fucking hell, honey. I think I’m gonna blow.”
lando came with a howl, hips stuttering as he came inside the condom sheath. she slipped off his cock quickly, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she made her way up his body to press a soft kiss to landos lips. using a handful of tissues, he slipped the condom off, balling it up and tossing it in the wastebasket. his breathing was heavy, but he was raring to go for more.
“sit on my cock, babe. ride me, please. I need it.”
she smiled, kissing him again. “now who’s the needy one?”
“shut up. do you want to come on my dick or not?” he joked, tickling her sides.
she playfully pushed him against the headboard before rooting around for another condom (a normal one, this time). she pressed the foil packet into lando's hand before getting to her feet and sliding off her soaked panties. she moved to take off her bra as well, but lando grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"keep it on, gorgeous."
and how could she argue when he was giving her puppy dog eyes?
she sunk down slowly, dramatically playing up her actions with some hair-fluffing and boob-primping. lando laughed underneath her, the sound distracting her from the sting as he stretched her out with his cock.
she shifted slowly at first, moving her hips in slow, torturous circles, biting her lip to stop a moan. her lover groaned, looking up at her with lust and reverence in his eyes.
"comfy?" he quipped, hands gently moving to grip her backside.
"very." she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
lando wasted no time in guiding her movements, lifting her up and down on his cock like it was no effort at all. her fingernails dug into his shoulders, small pants coming out in quick breaths as she bounced on his length.
"oh my god, lando." she whined. "you feel so good. so good, baby."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, dotting kisses along her collarbone, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass. "only i get to see you like this, make you feel this good." he growled "and you're doing so so well for me, love."
if lando were to explain what having sex with his girlfriend was like in two words, he'd probably say coming home. she was his safe haven. they fit together like a glove, always seemed to know what the other needed without saying a word. and if they spent more time laughing than actually having sex, or fi their sex was goofier than it was seductive? that didn't matter to him. all that mattered was that they spent that time together.
just two people in love, showing the other just how much.
every bit of praise made her skin break out in goosebumps. she could feel herself dripping onto lando's thighs, but she didn't care. she just wanted to be close to him. as close as physically possible. she arched inwards, leaning against his chest for support as lando stopped moving her hips, instead thrusting his up rapidly to meet hers, a strangled moan escaping her throat.
"that's it, princess. you don't need to do any of the work. lando's got you." he cooed, pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, whispering words of praise in between moans and grunts. animalistic sounds that just turned her on even more, pleasure reverberating throughout her body.
her slender fingers came up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently. lando moaned softly, angelically, his head tilted backwards and his eyes closed. it was a heavenly sight as he leaned down to sew her lips to his, walls beginning to contract against his cock.
"fuck, lando, go faster. i'm so close, baby." she whined, feeling him pick up the pace, hugging her body closer. she matched his movements, circling her hips and reaching a hand towards her clit.
"you coming, baby? you gonna come all over my thick, hard dick?" lando crooned. "touching yourself for me? getting yourself off on my cock."
"lando, please." she breathed, fingers rapidly moving against her swollen bud. she could feel herself getting closer, the band in her stomach getting tighter. "make me come."
he kissed her hard, thrusting deeper, the room echoing with the sounds of his skin slapping against hers, his guttural moans as his head fell back against the pillows. she could feel him release into the condom, his dick shuddering inside her, the latex getting warmer as it filled.
that was enough to trigger her own release, her juices pouring out of her, running down lando's shaft and dripping onto his thighs. she came with a cry of his name, bracing her hands against the headboard. her limbs felt like jelly as she tried to ease herself off him.
"easy does it." lando spoke softly, his voice raspy (as it usually was after sex), his touch gentle as he eased her down onto the bed. "remember to breathe, there's still water on the nightstand from last night. finish the glass, darling." he kissed her forehead softly before stripping himself of the condom and wiping her legs up with a handful of tissues. "come here."
she smiled, placing the now-empty ikea glass on the nightstand before curling up against him, wrapping her naked limbs over his, pulling the flat sheet over their bodies.
"this was a much better workout than boxing." she smiled, resting her head on his chest. "you're more fun than the coach is."
"i should hope so. i need to give you a reason to keep me around." lando joked, kissing her forehead. "i love you, my darling darling girl."
"i love you too, my handsome boy." she smiled, leaning up to kiss him, trailing a hand across his face as they kissed softly.
"by the way, this doesn't absolve you of driving to my mum's later. and yes, we're still going."
"god damn it! she always sends home with so much crap, i can't fit it all in the mclaren!"
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @lorarri @userlando
#lando norris x reader#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 smut#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris x you#Spotify
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· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.
words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships
a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!
chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.
you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.
you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.
minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.
there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.
he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.
changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.
“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.
he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.
hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.
a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.
he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.
jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.
“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.
wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.
when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.
he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)
with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”
being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.
now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.
the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.
you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”
and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.
with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#skz imagines#k-labels#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#*writing#*headcanons#i wrote this whole thing in under three hours it's like i'm on a roll or wtv#need to go lie down this destroyed me#sorry i made hyunjin’s so sad for no reason#he is too too fun to write angst for
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mamma mia | formula one social media au
drivers: sebastian vettel, jenson button and fernando alonso
what the hell is in the water in greece? why are pregnancy tests so expensive and why does seb name his vehicles like that?
fernandoalo_oficial
liked by maxverstappen1, aussiegrit and 803,450 others
location: greece
fernandoalo_oficial: had a great break in greece recharging the old batteries 🔋
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user1: old man who is this woman?
landonorris: who taught you to soft launch grandpa?
fernandoalo_oficial: hey! respect your elders
landonorris: you just called yourself old? and WHO IS THIS?
fernandoalo_oficial: none of your damn business kid
user2: why is he particularly dilfy lately?
user3: he's approaching silver fox territory i fear
jensonbutton: i see that greece was a popular spot for wold champions this break?
fernandoalo_oficial: i also saw, sad not to bump into you old friend :(
maxverstappen1: where was my invite ???
jensonbutton: cool world champions only
lewishamilton: excuse me?
fernandoalo_oficial: idk what to tell you it wasn't planned, me, jenson and sebastian just have good taste
sebastianvettel: i see mary goodnight was appreciated
fernandoalo_oficial: yes thank you for lending me your boat, huge hit with the ladies
sebastianvettel: very happy with my choice to get it deep cleaned before i got there
fernandoalo_oficial: first of all, i'm not dirty. second of all, thanks for the faith in my game big man
user4: i am so confused by this comment section I DID NOT WANT TO KNOW ALONSO FUCKED ON SEB'S BOAT ???
yourusername
liked by yourbff, oliviarodrigo and 1,340.987 others
tagged: yourbff
yourusername: (sober) brunch with a side of light baby daddy investigation
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user7: only y/n would end up in a mamma mia situation, stay strong
yourusername: omg i didn't even realise, but donna was always a bad bitch, so i will just be the same
user8: i can't believe i am watching a girl investigate her own baby daddies on the internet (i love this place)
yourbff: if we can't find the lucky men, at least they'll have a cool ass aunt
yourusername: all fun and games until you have to change a nappy
user9: i'm enjoying this saga, BUT, why can't we just wait and do a paternity test
yourusernmae: i still need to know them to do that... and being nosey is far more fun
user10: all i'm thinking is this girl has to have GAME for three dilfs in the span of like three days... RESPECT 🫡
user11: i am so invested in this... please be interesting people 🤞
jensonbutton
liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 401,330 others
jensonbutton: back on sky duty and bumped into a couple of familiar faces
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user12: who let these old men talk about their sex lives on a live broadcast?
user13: i am entertained tbf
user14: obsessed with both needing to reinforce the fact that they pulled in greece
user15: i need seb to jump in on this conversation ASAP
fernandoalo_oficial: not happy with you pinning all of my success on seb's boat mate
jensonbutton: was it all your charming personality?
fernandoalo_oficial: obviously
sebastianvettel: i can confirm that it's always all the boat
jensonbutton: is that a confession?
sebastianvettel: gentleman don't kiss and tell x
charles_leclerc: jesus christ and we're the generation ruining the sport?
jensonbutton: f1 has always been slutty, you guys are letting us down
maxverstappen1: clearly you guys are still active enough to keep up the reputation yourselves
sebastianvettel
liked by charles_leclerc, jensonbutton and 902,180 others
sebastianvettel: retirement is looking fun, glad to take mary goodnight out for her first spin
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user21: did he just say mary goodnight? SEB WHAT?
user22: omfg he is potential baby daddy two??
charles_leclerc: so seb got a bit too lucky in greece?
user23: CHARLES?
user24: i am losing my mind they were right, they are the baby daddies
user25: i knew as soon as she said a nando with a samurai tattoo
user26: @yourusername he's number two !!!!!
user27: @yourusername we found him, boat and all
landonorris: YOU'RE POTENTIAL BABY DADDY TWO SEB WHAT THE FUCK
sebastianvettel: i don't understand lando
landonorris: check your texts
user28: don't forget the others lando
landonorris: @fernandoalo_oficial check your texts (and forward it to jenson i don't have his number)
fernandoalo_oficial: okay?
yourusername: WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
user29: i think someone needs to check on her
yourusername
liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,509,600 others
yourusername: i hot girl summer-ed a bit too close to the sun, what do you mean the three dilfs were f1 world champions?
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sebastianvettel followed yourusername
fernandoalo_oficial followed yourusername
jensonbutton followed yourusername
note: AHHHHHH? idk if i love it or hate it? do i know who i plan on being the dad? no. but do i plan on expanding on this? yes. mamma mia chaos will return.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#sebastian vettel instagram au#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel imagine#fernando alonso#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso instagram au#jenson button#jenson button imagine#jenson button x reader#jenson button instagram au
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — prologue | coriolanus snow
「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | coriolanus is his own warning, mentions of death, elitism, self harm (Coryo burns his wrist)
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 eight year old Coryo finds out who his soulmate is and his feelings about it
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 this is the first official post about this series that I started on a whim! I am excited to see where this goes, please give me feedback, thank you!
series taglist | series masterlist | navigation
It started with Sejanus. Despite being friends with the boy, eight-year-old Coriolanus Snow couldn't help but loathe the fact the boy had District blood.
Sejanus' presence in the Capitol Academy was an insult to all of Capitol. He couldn't comprehend how it was all allowed before he heard the whispers. Sturbo Plinth bought his way in with money.
Money. The one thing a Snow should be entitled to and yet has none of. Even the power his name held was dwindling. Coriolanus will do anything to make sure ‘Snow lands on top'.
With that vow, Coryo gently brushed his thumb over the tattoo on his wrist. A number, something of significance for his soulmate. Whenever he felt overwhelmed, he traced over the dark lines. He felt instantly calm.
Everything is going to be alright.
His soulmate will be a princess, a goddess, a rich Capitol girl no one can compare to. He will have a happy ending with her. Snows will rise on top, and his girl will be beside him every step of the way. The First Lady of Panem as he will be the president.
He vividly remembers the day all of his hopes were crushed. It was a couple of weeks after Sejanus started attending the academy. The boy was mocked by everyone, and Coriolanus thought it was deserved, a district boy was nothing more than an animal.
Then came the district girl, this one from District One, the district closest to the Capitol. But still not the same. The girl from the district was the prettiest he had ever seen. Although she's district. She had claimed the hearts of the teachers, and in return received many privileges. It was rumored that even the dean had a soft spot for her.
It was understandable why. She was a girl with a sweet smile, a secret sharp tongue, and hidden cruelty in her eyes he wasn't sure anyone saw except him. Her eyes always softened when she looked at him but she was always friendlier with Sejanus. Pea in a pod sticks together after all.
It was a bright day, a hot summer making him sweat in his uniform more than the walk to the academy did. That was the day he felt his heart break, and soul crushed. It was completely by accident. Sejanus and you thinking that maybe, you were soulmates. And Coriolanus thought so too, after all, you both were so close, attached to the hip.
Coriolanus felt like he was intruding into something private whenever he was near you both. With your shared giggles and secret smiles, you were as close as children could be.
When you raise your shirt sleeve revealing your soulmate's tattoo, the date is meant to be the most significant to your soulmate. Sejanus didn't recognize it but Coriolanus did, much to his nightmare.
It was the date most important to him. It was the day of his mother's and unborn sister's death. The day he lost someone he held so close to his heart. That's the number etched on your skin.
No. No! He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your yelp and the protest from Sejanus. His eyes were wide and he felt his body shake. “No. . .” He whispered, a sob in his throat.
“What's wrong?” You asked, trying to get your hand out of his hold, and due to his weak, underweight body, you did it easily enough. You rub your wrist and wait for Coryo's answer.
You don't get one because Coriolanus Snow had turn away and begun to walk away from you and Sej.
When he reached his home, his body was shaking and fat drops of tears falling from his eyes. A district girl as his? Never, never in a thousand years. His dead father would have been so disappointed. He refused to accept her as his.
He won't. Ever.
Tigris tried to ask what happened, but Coryo ignored her. He went into the kitchen, turning on the stove. The fire burned blue and orange. He didn't hesitate, ignoring the scream from Tigris as he put his wrist forward. He bit his lips to not scream himself.
By that time, Tigris had pulled him back. The skin had burned, along with it was gone the soulmate tattoo of his. He let himself sob as Tigris tried to fix him up as much as she could. She didn't scold him, couldn't, when he was crying like he had lost everything, all of his dreams shattered and the reality had settled in.
This was ten years ago, he decided he had no soulmate.
Now as eighteen, he wondered if it would remain true.
next chapter!
Taglist: @tristanswildcat
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas x you#tbosas smut#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas x reader#tbosas#the hunger games#dystopian fiction#president coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow x reader smut#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x female!reader#character x reader#x you#x reader#x female reader#fem reader#oneshot#soulmates#the hunger games x reader#thg x reader#thg series#thg
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˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hi! can i please request a remus x reader in which the reader has always had a huge crush on him, but thought the feelings were unrequited? she lets the secret slip to lily & marlene and somehow it gets back to remus who finds it very endearing and teases her a bit?
𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: shy!reader, playful teasing, the pet name mouse, some suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit.
𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader has always had a huge crush on remus. the girls find out and marlene accidentally lets it get back to remus.
𝑨/𝑵: thank you for your request, lovely anon! i’ve luckily got a few requests that i’m working on, so thank you all for being patient with me. i also want to say thank you for all of the love on my last post! i was very nervous about my first post and i received so much love and support! requests are still open, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!
𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑
·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺
“morning, mouse.”
there’s a teasing touch to remus’s voice as he slides into the seat beside you. you glance at him out of the side of your eye as you take your potions textbook out of your bag, placing it gently on the table. a huff leaves your lips.
“are you lot ever gonna let that go?” you frown, crossing your arms as you turn to him.
there’s a soft smile playing on his lips, and a chuckle from sirius behind him as he joins the pair of you at the table.
“never gonna forget the look on mcgonagall’s face when she turned around,” says sirius brightly. you scowl at him, wanting to wipe the stupid amused grin right off of his face.
“shut up,” you say.
“it wasn’t so bad. you had a rather cute little snout…” remus touches a finger to the tip of his nose, his smile slowly changing from gentle to a rather shit-eating one.
“oh come on, how many people can say they turned themselves into a mouse, y/n? takes proper skill to cast a spell without realizing your wand is turned the wrong way.”
your face flushes pink. “i–i was distracted!” you defend.
“distracted, that’s right… chatting away to moony and casting spells at the same time. how’ve you gone this long without blowing yourself to pieces?”
you stick your tongue out at him, shoving his shoulder and laughing as he tumbles halfway off of his seat. he catches himself, making a face as he regains his spot.
“watch yourself, black,” you threaten. “how’d you like to be a dog permanently?”
“double check you’ve your wand turned the right way ‘round this time, yeah?”
there’s a thumping noise as you backhand his arm, and he winces dramatically.
“all right, you two,” says remus, voice amused. “slughorn’s here.”
chastised, you and sirius settle into your seats. the chattering of the rest of the class settles, and professor slughorn directs you to open your books to the correct chapter. you shift in your seat, glancing over at remus as he gathers his potions ingredients. his elbow nudges yours as he adjusts his cauldron.
“sorry, mouse,” he says offhandedly. though you insist you hate the silly nickname, the sound of him saying it makes your stomach do a little flip. your neck and ears burn, but you say nothing, instead focusing on the task at hand. sirius is distracted by james mouthing something at him across the classroom, which has caught lily’s attention as well. her gaze catches you for a second, and you hope she’s too far away to see the flustered expression decorating your features as you scramble to start on your potion.
invested in your textbook, you don’t notice when james makes his way over to your table, peering into your cauldrons as he returns from the class stores, having run out of one of his ingredients. “wonder why old sluggy’s got us brewing beautification potions,” he comments, making a face as he peers from sirius’s potion to remus’s.
“probably heard about y/n’s incident in transfiguration,” said sirius slyly, nudging your shoulder. your mouth falls open as james laughs.
“pads,” remus warns, throwing him a sharp glance.
sirius’s clear eyes dart between you and remus, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “sorry,” he says, “didn’t mean it, honest. y’know i think you’re fit, y/n.” he flashes a smile, turning on the charm.
you roll your eyes. “you’re a right git, you know that?”
“oh, come on. i’d have snogged the lights out of you by now if lily didn’t have her bloody rules,” he continues, back to his potion. james sniggering laugh fades as he returns to his table with lily and peter.
“‘m going to pretend i didn’t hear that,” says remus.
“likewise,” you agree, an incredulous laugh bubbling in your chest. sirius responds with a noncommittal shrug, sprinkling a handful of rose petals into his potion without a care in the world.
˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪
“so, mouse, how’d your study session in the library go?” the sound of the nickname coming in lily’s teasing voice causes your face to burn hot.
you turn towards her, having just pulled your nightgown over your head. you make a face, raking a hand through your hair as you flop onto your bed. marlene’s sprawled on her stomach at the end of your bed, flicking through a muggle magazine that lily brought back from holiday.
“not you too!” you complain, sighing heavily.
“i’m only teasing,” she says, leaning against the windowsill with her arms crossed over her chest. her lips are curled up in amusement, features slightly shadowed by the moonlight spilling in through the window behind her.
“i’ll never be y/n again. i’m gonna be mouse for the rest of my life at this rate,” you grumble, frustrated. “i mean, you accidentally transfigure yourself one time, and suddenly you’ve got a stupid nickname for life…”
marlene giggles at your dramatics, dropping the magazine onto your bed. “i think you’ll be okay. seems like james and sirius have gotten all of their fun out of it…” she trailed thoughtfully. “sirius was having the most fun with it, and even he was back to calling you y/n by the end of dinner.”
“remus, though,” lily begins, her eyes flashing with mischief. “seems like he really likes it.”
you swallow hard, trying not to think of the way your heart pounds at the sound of the silly nickname in his voice. tearing your eyes away from lily, you try to mask the embarrassment blooming on your face. even when the pair of you went to the library after your evening meal, he had taken to calling you ‘mouse’ without even realizing it. almost affectionately. you’d been reeling with butterflies the entire time, unable to focus on studying for your upcoming exams.
“kind of endearing, isn’t it?” continues marlene. “i mean, he gets this dreamy sort of look in his eyes when he’s talking to you… and it’s sort of a sweet nickname, if you think about it…”
“oh, come on,” you interject, as if they’re being ridiculous.
“no, honestly, y/n, you’re a bit oblivious,” lily adds. “he definitely thinks you’re fit.”
marlene smiles as you glance between the two of them, nodding her head in agreement. “and don’t lie and say you don’t feel the same way,” she warns.
“guys–”
lily narrows her eyes at you, “no lying.”
“i see you going all starry-eyed when you’re with him!” marlene sits up at the end of your bed, clasping her hands in her lap as she looks at you expectantly. “i’d bet ten galleons you curl up in your bed at night and dream of snogging remus lupin.”
“oh my godric,” you mutter, placing your hands to your burning face. you can’t bear to look either of them in the eye. you hate that they know you so well, and even worse that you’re doing a horrible job of hiding your crush on one of your best friends. it’s a miracle that no one’s gone blasting it all over the school yet.
“so it’s true?” lily prompts, leaning in to better hear your admission of guilt.
you huff, “don’t make me admit it.” your voice comes out as a whine, and that’s how they know they’ve got you. your secret has been exposed, and they’re having a giggling fit over it.
“next thing you know we’ll be finding moony and the mouse, curled up snogging in the common room,” says marlene, sounding smug.
“shut up,” you plead, though you can’t help the stupid smile that comes onto your lips as you shake your head.
“breaking all sorts of rules,” says lily. “including mine!”
lily’s one explicit rule: no marauders hooking up with her friends. a tried and true method of keeping the boys (mostly sirius) out of yours and marlene’s pants. it’s been foolproof.
“oh, shove it with the rules, evans,” marlene retorts. “you’d forget all about them once the four of you can go on silly little double dates.”
you feign a gag, and it sends them both into fits of laughter. “i am not going on any double dates.”
“no,” says lily, breathless, “i don’t think remus would like that very much, either…”
˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪
“where’s your chaperone, mckinnon?” it’s sirius, lounging on one of the sofas in the gryffindor common room. his wand is in his hand, flicking back and forth as he sends a tiny spark of light bouncing around the common room. he’s bored, waiting for the return of remus and james, probably to cause some trouble.
marlene crosses her arms over her chest. “she’s wrapped around your best friend, black,” she says, a faux-disgusted look plastered on her face. “they’re in a broom closet, snogging each other’s faces off…”
“ugh,” sirius says, dropping his wand as he leans up on his elbows to meet marlene’s gaze. “i showed james that bloody closet. now he’s gone and defiled it…” he flops back onto the couch, looking slightly sickened.
“can’t keep their hands off each other, the pair of them,” sirius continues after a moment.
marlene laughs, settling into one of the plush armchairs near the sofa sirius occupies. “you’re telling me.”
“what about moony?” sirius asks.
“studying with y/n.”
sirius nods, having expected that answer. “y’know, they’re as bad as lily and james. worse, i think,” he says. “it’s a nightmare, having to watch him fawn over her like a little lost puppy. i mean, ‘m supposed to be the canine here…” he shakes his head.
“you should hear y/n,” marlene counters. she’s not thinking as she speaks to sirius, not realizing she’s going on about your crush that you explicitly asked her not to discuss with anyone, especially not james or sirius. “the girl’s just dreaming of being shoved into a broom closet with remus. i wish they’d get over themselves and get a room.”
there’s a second of quiet between them, before marlene realizes what she’s just done. her eyes widen, and she blinks as sirius turns to look at her. she opens her mouth, though no words come out for a moment. “sirius–”
“well, i don’t know about shoving but–”
“sirius, listen to me,” marlene threatens, her voice sharp. “you can’t say anything. please. y/n will kill me.”
“ah, marls, that ship has sailed,” he laughs, sitting up. “moony’s in for a treat.” he practically leaps from his place on the sofa, looking awfully haughty as he plans to expose the blooming feelings between the two of his friends.
“sirius!” she hisses. “i’ll give you five galleons to keep it to yourself. please.”
sirius tuts, shaking his head. “sorry, love. i’ve no need for your money. besides, i’m doing all of us a favor here.”
marlene deflates before him, feeling extremely defeated as she watches sirius leave the common room, a new swagger in his step. dread clouds her senses as she realizes she’s going to have to tell you that she revealed your crush on remus.
˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪
“you’re looking awfully chipper this morning,” comments sirius, eyes skirting over you as you join him in the corridor.
“it’s hogsmeade weekend,” you say simply, hooking your arm through his to lead him down to the entry hall. it seems the rest of your friends have left already, none of them keen on waiting for you to return from the greenhouses this morning after helping professor sprout harvest flobberworm mucous for extra credit. “thanks for waiting for me, by the way.”
“someone had to,” he says, sounding a bit sheepish.
you roll your eyes, used to his faux disdain at your expense. “how’s moony?” you ask as you join the rest of the students making their way down to hogsmeade. the full moon was a couple nights ago, and you hadn’t seen your beloved lycanthrope in far too long. he tended to avoid you when it was, ahem, that time of the month, and though you thought it was unnecessary during the day, you understood. sirius and james could deal with him when he was in that state, but none of them liked to risk having you or the girls anywhere near his furry little problem. it was thoughtful, honestly.
“exhausted,” replies sirius. “he wanted to wait for you, but lily didn’t want to leave him alone. reckon she was scared he’d fall asleep standing up and get a concussion.”
you laugh half-heartedly and wonder why remus didn’t decide to stay behind and get some sleep. you worried about him, oftentimes wondering if he was truly taking care of himself properly. each time he went out to the shrieking shack he returned with new scars, looking more and more ill as the weeks went on. it was a wonder he was managing his classes and keeping decent marks.
you chatter back and forth as you make your way to hogsmeade, sirius recounting their latest excursion in the shrieking shack. you finally make it to hogsmeade, spotting lily’s bright hair shining in the sun, and the goofy look on james’s face as he does some impersonation of one of your classmates, that you just happen to catch the tail-end of.
“who’s that you’re mocking, prongs?” you raise your eyebrows, arms crossed as the group begins marching towards the three broomsticks.
“i’ll have a guess,” says sirius. he thinks it over for a second, then a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. “that hufflepuff fifth year, what’s his name? the burly one, tried out for seeker and wrecked his broom into the stands?”
james erupts into a fit of cackling laughter, nodding his head. “yes, yes!” he claps, looking quite pleased with his interpretation of the hufflepuff boy’s less than graceful dismount. remus laughs softly, while marlene rolls her eyes.
“not everyone is as adept as you on a broomstick, potter,” says marlene.
“i’m only joking,” james says, shrugging. “‘sides, it’s not like anyone’s gonna tell the poor guy. what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” the dark-haired boy winks as he opens the door to the three broomsticks, waving you all inside.
you nudge remus in the side as you stand in the crowd, waiting to push through the gaggles of students to find a table big enough to fit all of you.
“hello, mouse,” he says, voice tired although he’s sporting his usual smile. sirius was right. he looks awfully haggard, and a lot like he should be in bed instead of traipsing through hogsmeade.
“how are you feeling?” you ask, concerned. your conversation is overshadowed by the chatter all around you, which you’re thankful for. it’s unlikely anyone could overhear the two of you discussing his delicate situation.
“i could go for a long nap,” he says, truthfully. “missed you, though.”
your heart leaps in your chest, and a shy half-smile finds its way to your lips. “you don’t have to exhaust yourself just to see me, rem,” you say, flushed.
“i don’t mind.” he shrugs. his hand bumps yours as you stand, watching sirius push through a crowd of confused looking third-years, heading for a table in the corner. he hooks one finger with yours for half a second, before the two of you are following your friends to the table.
you swear the touch sends your whole body vibrating, your heart beating loudly enough that you’re sure everyone in the pub can hear it. you take your seat, head swimming as you settle down and order a butterbeer when madame rosmerta comes for your orders.
after the three broomsticks, your group splits up. james and sirius flit off to spintwitches sporting needs, james muttering something about new quidditch gloves. marlene and lily run into mary macdonald outside of honeydukes. which leaves you and remus.
“right, mouse, where to?” remus looks to you for direction, having brightened up a bit since having something to drink. he’s much less ill-looking, although you notice a fresh scar creeping up from beneath the neckline of his sweater. your eyes skirt over the wound, but you jerk your attention away before he notices.
“how about gladrags?” you wonder aloud. “i saw a nice blouse in there on the last hogsmeade weekend. ‘course, i talked myself out of buying it at the time, but i really want it…” you realize that you’re rambling, and stop before you can embarrass yourself.
“after you,” he offers his arm, and you try not to look flustered as you take it.
gladrags is empty as ever, very few wizards doing any clothing shopping at this time of year, it seems. the cashier is an ancient elderly lady, who shouts hello at you as you enter. you reply, but she’s got hearing problems, and you’re not loud enough. remus shouts a greeting back, earning a smile from the lady and a fit of giggles from you.
“poor old woman,” remus says, amused.
“hush,” you say quietly, although there’s no risk of her accidentally hearing you.
“sorry,” he says, eyes still crinkled as he smiles. “now, where is this lovely blouse?” he inquires, quirking an eyebrow. you finger through the racks, looking for the pale-coloured, silken fabric. you finally find it, the last shirt on a very back rack.
“what do you think?” you ask, holding the fabric up against your front, peering down at it.
“hmmm,” remus examines the fabric, taking the tail of it between his fingers. “looks like a blouse.”
you roll your eyes. “this is why i don’t go shopping with boys,” you say, laughing softly.
“maybe you should try it on,” he suggests. “i’m sure it looks better on.”
you nod. “good idea,” you flit off to the changing rooms. remus waits for you, your coat draped over his arm as he waits for you to change, listening to you curse as you fiddle with the buttons on the blouse. you adjust the lace outlining the neckline and the sleeves, smoothing the fabric as you eye yourself in the mirror.
“okay, rem, what do you think?” you thrust open the curtain to the changing room. remus’s eyes widen a tad, and you swear there’s a flush of pink across his cheeks. he forces his gaze up from the dip in the silken fabric that accentuates your chest, and meets your eyes. you shift under his gaze, looking hopeful.
“erm,” he clears his throat, brushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. “much better on, absolutely. very pretty, mouse.”
“i thought so, too,” you agree, turning away and sweeping the curtain shut behind you. outside, you hear him swear under his breath and the sound of shuffling. your hands tremble a bit, your nerves getting the better of you. the complement, coupled with the bloody nickname. it’s enough to have your head spinning, wishing you could just grab him by the shoulders and kiss him silly. in your mind’s eye you see the almost bashful look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, and you can’t focus on anything else.
after a few moments of struggling with the stupid buttons, unable to undo them, you hear his voice on the other side of the door.
“okay in there?” he asks, closer now. the sound of his voice sends a jolt through you.
“i’m all right,” you respond. “can’t get these bleeding buttons undone.”
it’s quiet for a second. “need help, mouse?”
you freeze. he sounds like he genuinely wants to help. you tell yourself he’s just a friend offering help to his friend. deep down, though, you’re hopeful. maybe your feelings are not as one-sided as you thought…
you struggle with the buttons for another second, then concede. you peek out of the changing room, ensuring there are no witnesses, before dragging him inside by the sleeve of his sweater. there’s a split second of tension, his gaze finding your half-unbuttoned blouse before it lands on your clearly flustered expression.
he laughs gently. your brows pull together.
“what’s funny?” you ask, frowning.
“‘m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “let me just…” he trails, hanging up your discarded coat before his nimble fingers come to the buttons on your chest. goosebumps rise on your skin, and you try not to shiver. you follow his movements, his face screwed up in concentration as he fiddles with the tricky buttons.
“i’m starting to rethink this purchase, considering it’s a nightmare getting off,” you say, pressing your lips together as his eyes flick up to your face. he smiles, amused.
“i think you should get it,” remus says.
“you think so?”
“yeah. especially if you’ll be needing my help taking it off more often.” you swear he winks at you, and your knees turn into jelly. has he really just said that? you blink for a second, one of your hands coming up to stop his fingers from unhooking the buttons.
“moony…”
“what?” he looks up at you, a teasing glint in his pale brown eyes.
your cheeks are pink, and your eyes dreamy as you look at him. his skin is warm where your hand is clasped around his, and despite his exhaustion, he’s never felt more alive.
“i– sorry,” he says, “you just— you look very beautiful. and i think it would be a waste not to buy this blouse when it wouldn’t look nearly as good on anyone else.” his voice has gone quiet. he swallows before continuing. “sirius said... well, maybe he was lying, but he said you have feelings for me... and i just wanted you to know that i feel the same.”
the butterflies in your stomach have turned to dragons, ravaging your insides. you’re pressed close to him, close enough to feel his breath fanning over your skin. inside your chest, your heart is beating fast enough that you’re sure it’s going to burst any second. with your free hand, you reach up and slowly trace the new scar on his neck, up to his face. you cup his cheek, your thumb swiping just beneath his clear eyes.
“can i kiss you, mouse?” he asks, the question barely audible.
“i would like that,” you say simply.
there’s a split second of hesitation, before he’s pulling you into him. his lips are softer than you expected, gently parting to deepen the kiss. you tighten your grasp around his hand, and your other hand snakes around to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. he presses closer to you, very lightly, as if you’re delicate. you hum against his mouth, your head swimming as you finally force yourself to part ways. the blouse is still halfway undone, forgotten between the two of you. you’re drunk on his presence, wishing you were back in the castle so you could have him all to yourself, for as long as you’d like.
“we–um, do you want to get out of here?” you suggest, pressing your lips together. the ghost of his mouth against yours is driving you crazy. you feel incomplete without him wrapped around you. you want him touching you, forever.
“let’s get this off, quick,” he says, nodding. he struggles for another second with the pesky buttons, and then you’re slipping the blouse over your shoulders. remus adverts his gaze, and you can’t help but smile. such a gentleman. you adore him.
“is the coast clear?” you wonder, once you’re dressed and ready to go.
“think we’re all right,” he says. he leads you to the front counter, and generously pays for your new blouse, which he admits he likes very much.
“in fact,” he says as you exit the shop, “i think you should wear it again tonight.”
“really?” you ask, unable to mask the beaming smile on your face.
“mhmm,” he agrees, interlacing your fingers as he leads you down the street, in search of the rest of your friends. “actually, i think it’d be quite nice tomorrow night, too… and the night after that, and after that…” he trails, grinning as you smack him playfully on the arm.
it seems the rest of the group have been searching for you for a while, lily approaching with an exasperated look on her face.
“where have you two been?” she asks.
“we’ve been looking everywhere,” adds marlene.
“sorry–” you begin, but you’re cut off by sirius, who takes a step closer to peer at the two of you.
“why have you got that look on your face, moony?” he narrows his gaze at remus, who shrugs. “and you–” he turns to you “--your lips are all swollen. oh! merlin, you’ve been off swapping saliva haven’t you?” he makes a very long, exaggerated gagging noise to which james offers loud laughter.
“oh, shut up, sirius,” you mutter, shoving him as you begin your walk back to the castle. “you’re just mad that no one’s offered to swap saliva with you.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fic#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader fluff#marauders era#marauders era fic#marauders fic#marauders fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#marauders#slb.works#fluff
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𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary eddie gets very, very good at fucking you the way you like it [5.1k]
warnings smut, 18+ please no minors, fem!reader, p in v sex, oral both receiving, praise kink, best friend!eddie, best friends with benefits, eddie pining for r, mutual pining, giggly sex, a part 2 to this but u dont have to read it lol
𓆩❤︎𓆪
"Bye, kids!" Eddie's uncle calls, swiftly followed by the sound of the door shutting. The night shift begins.
You shout, "Bye, Mr. Munson!"
Eddie can see from the way your back is a little straighter that you're waiting to see if he's making a move tonight. The brilliant thing about being your friend is that Eddie's content to spend time with you doing anything, not just fucking – a newer extension of your friendship, a good one – but still. Two young adults, a lot of hormones, and a natural chemistry? It's kind of hard to resist it anytime you're alone.
You sit further down the bed, the sheets pulled over your legs. The summer heat has finally broken into a cooling fall. Almost two months of lazy, hot sex later and Eddie's working out everything that you like. One example, you like to be dragged around. Never cruel, but dragged the same, Eddie hooks his hands under your arms without saying anything and pulls you into the space between his legs, your back to his chest.
"C'mere," he says, like he hasn't manhandled you exactly where he wants you to be.
You drop your head back onto his shoulder and it's like an electric shock, your easy smile, your wide eyes. "All of ten seconds. You don't have much patience."
"I'll show you patience," he says, quick to dive into the juncture of your neck.
He doesn't bother with chaste kisses, lips parted and teeth scratching against delicate skin as he mouths into the spot he knows you like most. You hiss, "Fuck, Eddie," almost scolding to his everlasting amusement, grabbing for his hands where they've stayed wrapped around your abdomen.
"You want to?" he asks between scraping kisses.
Your hand tightens around his as he starts to suck, intending on marking you up, something pretty to look at while he fucks you later, he reasons. Anything to not be staring at your mouth.
You make a breathless gasping sound that has his jeans tightening fast, neck arching to the side to give him better access. He's taking this as a soft yes, though he'll ask again when he's not winding you up. He bites down and you squeal, the beginnings of a bruise under his teeth.
His lips are wet when he pulls away, a pop and release of your abused skin. You shudder, a big exhale of breath as you press further into his back, head to your shoulder to stop him from giving you another.
He brushes his hands up your abdomen and stops at your ribs, worrying he might've gone too far too fast. He's about to ask when you start giggling, sick little sounds that have him craving your mouth, wondering what they taste like.
"What's funny?" he asks.
"Your hair's tickling me."
You turn in his arms and stretch, leaning out of the circle of his hold for the bedside table. He makes sure you don't tumble out of his bed as you search past things that might've embarrassed him before, condoms, a new tube of lube; the old one long gone. Your fingers snag on a hair tie and you take it, quick to stretch it around your fingers and stand up on your knees.
He holds your hips amicably as you smooth the hair from his face, hands characteristically tender, gentle as you pull his hair into a ponytail behind his head. Almost a tradition at this point for his hair to be out of his face, this is the first time you've done it for him. He's transfixed by your face, your eyes and their lashes, your mouth and the pink of your tongue as your lips part mindlessly, your nose. He can't help but think of your nose, how it would slide against his if he leaned in.
You tuck small strands behind his ears and grin. "There," you begin, something playful in your voice, something so sweet and smooth it makes his cock twitch and his chest ache. "Now I can…"
Your words fade away as you move for his neck, slower and softer than he'd been to yours, the pillow of your lips sliding down the column of his throat. You drop pecks like stars into his skin and every one of them burns, stopping only at his Adam's apple to kiss it twice, both he tricks himself into thinking are unbearably fond – the slowness of them, the double kiss, like one couldn't be enough.
His arms cross over your back, holding you close as he can as your teeth skip over his collar bone. You kiss the well, lips joining over his skin, damp and squishy and soft. He blinks rapidly and turns his gaze to the ceiling light in efforts to stave off any evil thoughts besides fucking you dumb. You must take it for an invitation, moving back to his neck. Your lips work and your tongue licks a stripe, closing around the very underside of his jaw, too close to his ear. He moans at your loving, the barest hint of your teeth against a hot spot he didn't know he had until you found it.
Your hands flex over his shoulders, moving like the flow of the tide. They climb over the hills of his trap muscles and fold around the back of his neck, and he decides he's gonna make you cry tonight if it's the last thing he does.
"Nice sounds, pretty boy," you murmur, "does it feel good?"
Yeah, he's definitely gonna make you cry. Half melted by your attention and half insane he laughs, a dark chuckle that has your hands stilling where they tease. He pushes you away nicely considering his mood and you fall on your back, legs moving from their folded position to hiked up. You stretch one slightly downward and the other comes in coquettishly, your kneecap rubbing against your thigh, moving them first left and then right.
"It's like I'm in a fucking porno," he says to himself, swallowing, worse when you smirk at him.
Your legs drift open, a split second where he can make out the bump of your cunt in your tight pants. He needs to be touching you, like, yesterday.
You hold your hands out as he climbs on top of you, taking his waist into your grip as he grabs your upper arm in one hand and your neck in the other, dipping down to kiss you and then remembering he can't. You don't seem to mind his position, taking it as an opportunity to talk with him face to face.
"Eddie," you say, his name like dripping silver off of your tongue, "my neck's burning. What are you, a vampire?"
"I might be," he says, looking away from your amused eyes to the mark he's made at the side of your throat.
"I have parents, you know? Who aren't blind?"
"Quit complaining," he says, lifting his weight off of you so he can slot a hand between your bodies, rubbing it into the dough of your thigh.
He looks to your face for permission and you nod, dazed, and so Eddie doesn't kiss you but he gets the next best thing as he cups your cunt with his palm. He spreads his fingers wide and searches for your clit, the fabric much too thick for any real teasing. Still, he must graze it, your breath jumping.
"There you are," he murmurs.
You're holding your breath as he unbuttons your jeans and pulls down the zippers, hand snaking underneath denim to find not a lot of fabric covering your centre.
His eyes flinch up. "Fuck, are you wearing a thong?"
"No!" you rush to say, and then stammer, "I mean- kind of? Uh. Not completely a thong."
He climbs off of you, breathing hard and hiding it as he says, "Alright, take the jeans off. Now. Right now."
You roll your eyes and lift your hips, kicking out of your jeans with a huff. "Slow your roll," you admonish as he whips them off of your ankles.
And fuck, don't you look pretty? Your simple white tennis socks and your baby blue vest top, the silhouette of your pretty chest and how it moves, the stretch of your naked legs and your thighs, thighs he's spent hours now messing with, kissing and marking up. None of it drives him as crazy as your cunt, your pretty pussy, hardly covered by these new cut black panties. They're not quite a thong but not far from it and Eddie can't decide whether he wants to rip them off or ask you to wear them forever. He tries to take a mental photo of you like this, something for the spank bank, immortalising your shy smile as you hike up on your elbows.
"They're not too slutty, right?" you ask.
"They're slutty," he disagrees happily, grinning as he pulls your calves and then your thighs over his lap. "They're cute."
"Cute," you repeat.
"I can touch you, right?" he asks.
You spread your legs wider over his lap and his cock aches as you say, "Please, Eddie."
He brushes his thumb into your clit, pulling your doughy skin in big circles. You exhale at the sudden pleasure, your legs tightening at his waist, one knee turning in. He keeps a hand on your legs and spreads you wider, pleased when you bring your hand to your chest and start toying with your pebbled nipples.
"Oh, you're hot as fuck," he says, laughing. You beam at his praise and he aims to keep it, furthering, "You're so pretty. Look at you."
"Are you talking to me or my…"
"Your pussy?" he asks. "Say the word, Y/N, it won't bite you."
"My pussy," you say, the word foreign and fucking world-ruining on your lips.
He asked for it, he knows, and he'll deal with the consequences, even if the consequences are creaming in his pants.
"I'm talking to you," he says, hands slipping under your thighs. He bends as he talks, "You're so fucking pretty," he says, lifting your hips to his mouth, his lips brushing up against that small slip of fabric that doesn't even cover you up properly, head racing with expletives. "But your pussy is just as cute."
He kisses you through fabric. He kisses you like a man possessed, a man starved, an open mouthed search for the bead of your clit. He kisses around it, pulling fabric and skin into his mouth.
You hold yourself up with your hands, panting as he gets messy. He moves away from your slit and laps at your skin, kissing and licking the space between your thigh and your cunt, your creases, downwards. He nudges the not-quite-thong aside with his nose and pulls back to take you in.
There, that clear slick, a tiny rivulet at your entrance. "Your hole's already crying to see me," he says, knowing it will embarrass you.
You squeal and stop holding your weight. You fall for a second and he chuckles as he lifts you straight back up, arms more than prepared for the weight of your hips. "Take more than that for me to drop you," he chastens.
You huff a breath out the side of your mouth. "You're teasing."
"I am," he agrees cheerily. "Thought that was what you liked, babe."
You wiggle in his hold. "Please," you murmur, your anticipation showing itself.
He swears he can see the throb of your clit, how it looks almost swollen already as he takes it into his mouth.
He rolls his tongue around your clit, laps down, looking for that well of wetness and finding it. He licks around your entrance, your little hole tight and contracting at his intrusion before he eats back upward, face pushed ardent and unashamed into your pussy.
He plays with your labia, taking the folds between his teeth and tugging. More squealing, your reach for his face and can't quite get there, a sound of protest escaping you as he does it again. He licks over them in apology and moves back to your clit, sick of teasing, wanting to bring you to your climax suddenly and intensely. He wants to see your face, the way your eyes slam shut and crinkle, the uptilt to your eyebrows like you might cry. He suckles your clit, kissing and kissing and kissing until your thighs are shaking in his hands.
"Ah, there, right there, Eds," you pant, your eyes half-lidded, lashes twitching.
He lowers your hips slightly and your clit drops from his mouth with a lewd pop. "Where, sweetheart?"
"You just-" you pout at him, hips rolling, "Eddie, please, please, I wanna cum."
Again, he can't tease. He wants you to cum, needs you to, feels like an addict as he squeezes your thighs in his hand, fat moulding under his fingers as he moves back in to toy circles around your clit. He wants desperately to open you up and save this wetness from dripping down his shirt, wasted, so he pushes your hips back and follows, your ass pushing into the bed. He spreads you wide open and taps under your knee until you get the message to hold it, pussy glistening and open as he rubs your entrance teasingly, fingers working inside slowly, an exploration.
"Fucking soaking," he mumbles into your clit. You whine at the vibrations. He smirks. "Pretty pussy sopping wet, ruining the sheets, look at what you've done to my face," he says, though he doesn't pull away to let you look. "I'll clean you up, babe, don't worry."
Your hand bumps into his forehead and he's expecting a mean hair pull as you approach your high. Your breathing is hard and wound up, coloured by your voice like breathless moans, your tummy and chest heaving as he scissors his fingers against your gummy walls. But you don't pull his hair as you cum, far from it, you seize up and make a pathetic whimpering sound that tugs his heart, your fingers slipping into his hair. You hold him carefully to your cunt and he sucks until you’re half-sobbing, eyes closed and brows pinched and everything he wanted to see, one of your feet kicking out when he doesn't stop.
You don't ask him to, petting his face almost pleadingly, your thumb brushing against his eyebrow as he licks all over your sensitive clit and your hole and down to your seeping slick.
You make a sudden sharp sound and he knows to stop before you've even said his name.
"You're good. I got you, I'm done," he says comfortingly, nipping at your thigh. "You came pretty hard then, huh?"
You cover your overstimmed cunt with a lovely hand and smile at him weakly. "You didn't stop."
"I didn't think you wanted me to."
"I didn't," you say, dropping your head into the bed with a tired sounding sigh. "Oh, god, I’m melting. Can we open the window?"
He springs up and pushes open the window. You beckon him back towards you as you sit up, legs to one side of you as you reach out.
He enters your reach. He's expecting – anticipating, begging for – you to touch his cock, palm the throbbing length with your hands that he likes so much, but you don't. Your hands slide over his hips and you hug him where he's standing, fingers lacing at the small of his back, the side of your face pressed into his tummy, which feels heavy with lust.
Your face this close to his cock drives him crazy. Your hug hurts his heart. You rub your nose into his shirt. "You're the best at head, I swear. Y'always get me badly," you say. You look up at him. "Well, second best."
He can't help it. He kisses your square on the forehead. "Second," he agrees, hand on the side of your face. "Wanna show me who's best?"
You stare into his eyes for a second, looking shell shocked. He chalks it up to post-orgasm fog and forgets all about it when you grin.
"I'm gonna rock your world," you promise, hand needling for his dick.
Eddie's eager, whatever, pulling down his trousers just enough for the head of his hard cock to slip out. You take it into your hands. He doesn't watch as you work your hand down to his base, too busy tugging off his shirt, and so isn't expecting it when you pull his boxers down under his cock and take his balls into your mouth, just once.
He groans. "Fuck, babe. Do that again?"
"Shush, you're disrupting the process," you say, spitting into your hand. Despite your words you take his balls into your mouth again, sucking and kissing carefully as you tug at his cock with your spit wet hand.
His head tips back, overcome with the wave of white hot pleasure. You kiss up his shaft, lips parting wet and warm over the underside, his cock shining with your spit. You guide the tip gently to your lips and kiss it gently.
"You have a pretty dick," you tell him, almost conversational. He laughs and rests his hand atop your head, pulling it back to see your cute face as you say it.
"Yeah?" he asks indulgently.
"So pretty," you say, opening your mouth. You slide the tip against your tongue and pull back. "Too big, though."
He bursts into laughter, eyes squinting with humour. "You're such a charmer. Shut the fuck up."
"Shut me up," you tell him, opening your mouth wide. He stares at you. "Go on," you encourage.
You open your mouth, jaw lowered. He guides his cock over your tongue and watches as you take it, your lips wrapped around him, careful not to slide against your teeth. You’ve got one hand braced against his thigh, the other bunched in the fabric of his half pulled down jeans.
You take him carefully, good at head but not as confident as you claim. Eddie thinks even if you weren't a diamond he'd still cum, too enamoured with your eyes looking up at him and your chin covered in spit as you pull away. You’re panting, bobbing on and off of his shaft happily, hand pumping over the base you can’t quite reach.
Eddie guides you slowly, hands in your hair and pulling. He tries to take you back and you endeavour forward, his cock brushing the back of your mouth, that line of resistance before your throat.
You gag and the feeling of it makes his vision white out for a millisecond before you’re pulling away, giggling and gasping for air. "Whoops, sorry."
"Sorry?" He makes a derisive sound. "Please, I'm fucking begging you to do that again."
You establish a quicker rhythm, lapping at his cock and moving down, gagging and recovering, gagging again. You take as much of him as you can and then fall back, a line of your spit branching from wet lips to his reddened tip.
He wipes it away with his thumb, cock throbbing in your hand as you stroke his length and catch your breath.
Your eyelashes wet with tears, you gaze up at him imploring. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"
"Obviously," he says. Stupid question. "But I wanna be inside you more. You ready?" he asks.
"Someone made sure of that.” You kiss the tip of his cock and scramble into a sitting position. "Can we do it like last time, please?"
Again with 'please'. He'd give you anything you asked for.
Eddie slips on a condom with practiced technique and gets into the position you want, sitting with the pillows behind his back against the headboard, thighs spread wide and waiting for you. You take off your ruined underwear and kneel over his thighs. He hooks your ankles, helping you get as comfortable as you can be with the head of his cock brushing against the mess of your cunt.
"Ready to ride?" he asks, beaming.
Your hands move up his chest and grab hold of his shoulders as you lift your hips, waiting for him. He takes his cock into your hands and presses it to your hole, heart loud in his ears as you sink down onto it. The look on your face as you go, that shiver you get as he splits you open, Eddie could fill you up now if you asked him to.
You're more than warm as you slip onto his cock, heat quickly enveloping him. You can never take him to the hilt at first, slowly rocking against him. He holds you tight to his chest and hisses, wanting to keep you as at ease as possible during the stretch.
"Fuck, Eddie," you whisper, sounding emotional. "You're so big, oh my god."
"'Cos you're so fucking tight, babe. You sure you're ready?" he says into your neck.
"I am," you promise, sliding down further. You make your pretty noise and he knows he's close to filling you up entirely, kissing your neck gratefully as you moan.
"Eddie?" you ask.
"What?"
"Can you…" you shudder as you slide back down, his cock throbbing red hot as it drags against your walls, "Can you…"
"What? Anything you want babe, just tell me."
You duck your face into his neck and your hands search for his, pulling them down from your hips and onto your ass. He grins like a fool and grabs at you, spreading your cunt wide around his cock.
"Help me?" you ask.
Eddie hums. "You got it. Wrap your arms around me, yeah? That's a good girl." He's mostly joking.
As soon as he says it he's worried you won't like it. You do, blatantly, sucking in a ragged breath as he bottoms out. "You like that?" he asks hotly, smug. "You wanna be my good girl? Y/N, I never would've guessed."
"Liar," you say into his neck, whimpering as he pulls your cunt off of his cock, hips bumping as he thrusts back up into you.
"You're predictable," he concedes. "Now be a good girl for me and make some of those sick sounds you make, yeah?"
He's ridiculously smug and it shows in his tone, a deep, mocking drawl.
His hands squeeze your flesh as he thrusts into you, drunk on the feeling of your opening as it stretches around him and the curl of his climax building in his abdomen. You huff and pant and whimper as he fucks you, calves working to bounce over him. Already a wetness is pooling at the base of his cock and the slapping sounds of your riding echoes through the room.
"Hear how wet you sound?" he asks.
"Uh-huh," you say mindlessly. He feels sorry for how out of breath you are, bringing one hand up to the small of your back, hugging you close.
"Making a mess after I cleaned you up, huh? So ungrateful," he jokes.
"It's your fault," you murmur into his neck, arms flexing around him, squeezing him close.
He rubs your back. "Yeah, it is."
You laugh again and your walls tighten around him. He grabs you to fuck into that extra tightness, pushing you down onto his cock whilst he ruts up into you, his own breathing laboured.
True to what he asked, you're making sounds, heart-aching whimpers and mewling. He gets rougher in response, fucking up into your heat with an impressive speed. He knows he can get you all teary eyed if you're wet and relaxed enough to hit the sweet spot, and that first orgasm seems to have done the trick; your breathing is shuttering, your eyelashes tickling his neck, and you start to get beggy as he pistons against the deepest part of you.
"Eddie, Eddie please," you say, every thrust sending shocks down his cock and into his hips.
"What do you want?" he asks, holding off the 'honey' that so desperately wants to come out with it.
"Feels so good," you murmur, lips wet on his neck. You kiss his sweaty skin slovenly.
He pulls you back by the neck to look at your face, leaving you deep seated on his cock, squirming for friction. Your eyes were glassy, lashes heavy with tears.
"You're okay?" he checks.
You nod vehemently and lift up on your knees, dropping back down with a smile. He groans, hands on your hips as you take control and roll your hips around him in wide circles.
You're pretty like this, fucked out with your brows furrowed in concentration, pleasure loosening your hands and your lips as you swear to yourself, every stretch of your cunt around his cock summoning a wave of shuddering.
Wound up, he wants your second orgasm. He reaches between your bodies to push his fingertips to your slick clit, fighting to find purchase. He rubs tight tiny circles into the sensitive bud and you follow his rhythm.
"Yeah, you got it, keep grinding down on me," he encourages, leaning back to watch your face clouding up with pleasure. "You got it, babe."
You eat up his praise and his touch, thighs clenching around him in a tell tale sign. He snaps his hips up quicker until you gasp and hold your breath, chin falling into your chest as your walls tighten on his cock and you cum again.
The second is always harder on you. He stops thrusting and lets you catch your breath. You grind down into him slowly, scrunched eyes fluttering open as Eddie takes your face into his hand, his cock feeling every brush and contraction as you come down, the urge to kiss your pouting mouth reaching an all time high. You save him by dropping your hands from his neck and reaching for the hem of your thin shirt, pulling it off and exposing your chest.
"My girls!" he cooes happily.
You roll your eyes, breath finally coming in strong. "I feel like I'm burning up," you say, hand careful against his ribs.
Eddie loves these little pauses, slow and lazy and outside of time as he grinds his hips up, cock probing. "You're hot," he says agreeably.
"You're hotter."
He brushes your cheek with his thumb, pulling your lips up into a lopsided smile until you smack his hand away.
"Lemme get you on your back," he says.
You fall back and he's fast behind you, groaning doubly loud when his cock slips back into your sopping heat. He's determined to draw it all out of you, hand braced over your neck as he pushes back in. "Tell me if I get too rough."
You nod and Eddie takes you in as he fucks you silly, your damp face and the marks smattering your neck, your clammy chest and the way your boobs move as he thrusts into you.
"Don't stop, okay?" you tell him, bringing your hands to his face.
And he doesn't, fucking into you enthused by your touch and your face pinched in pleasure, your weak moaning and your keening cries when he pushes your hips into the mattress. It doesn't take much more than that before he's cumming, cock searching up into you until he's groaning loud and hot, dropping his face into your neck.
There's a familiar post sex quiet then, your hand rubbing over his naked back, bumping down the ridge of his shoulder blades and into the dip of his back. You trail your fingertips gently over the wall of silver stretch marks near his coccyx.
He inhales your smells. Sex and sweat and shampoo, the last remnants of the mornings perfume.
His cock softens inside you. He pulls out though he doesn't want to move, quickly missing your embrace as he ties off the condom and wipes himself down with his discarded shirt. You wrinkle your nose but let him do the same to you, and he's extremely cautious as he wipes over your entrance, hole still gaping just slightly, your cum and slick slipping out. He dips his fingers inside you and gives your clit a little rub, giggling boyishly when you throw your arm over your eyes and angle your hips away from him.
"In a minute, Eds."
"I'm just teasing, baby. You take as long as you want. Or we could go watch that Stones tape Nick gave me."
"Oh, he finally gave it to you?" you ask, raising your arm just enough to look at him.
"Yeah."
You grin in excitement and get up off of his bed, leaving behind a small wet puddle of mess and a smell he, perhaps grossly, doesn't want to wash out.
He watches your legs shake as you kneel down, searching for something to wear now that's he's ruined your underwear. He stands up fast and pulls up his jeans, zipping them with one hand as the other pats your shoulder. "Sit down, I'll find you something to wear."
"I can do it."
"I can see your legs shaking, babe. Fucked you good, huh?"
"You're so smug, it's disgusting."
"You like disgusting," he says. You don't say anything, but he suspects he'd find your skin warm with a hot flush if he went looking.
You sit at the end of his bed and he throws clean clothes at you, picking through for a shirt he can put on over his clammy chest.
"Eddie," you say.
He's still searching. "Yeah?"
You don't answer for a moment and he hardly notices, wondering if maybe he might not have any shirts clean after all when your arms snake around his chest. You lean your face into his back, your hands tentative where they press into his tummy
He tries to look at you over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you rush to say. "Nothing."
He covers your hands with his, thinking. You nestle your face into his skin. He squeezes your fingers.
He doesn't let you hug him like that for too long, pulling your hands away. You look crestfallen for the few seconds it takes him to say, "Hey, come on. We'll make microwave burritos or something and watch that tape." Then, though he'd thought it was obvious, "We can cuddle."
"Sorry," you say quickly.
"No, don't be. I just fucked your brains out, least I can do is rub your back for a bit."
You press your lips together in a failed attempt to hide a smile. He turns away to find a shirt, the image of your guilty-happy face burned into his mind.
<3
people who asked to be tagged: @beauty-in-the-brkdwn @tea-and-lots-of-books @sonicbananawithbowtie @lagataprrr @xcatnapsx @youngflower @kiszkathecook @cheneyq
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader smut#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic
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Reactions To You Pissing During Sex
OT8!SKZ x fem!reader
a/n: this ask got me thinking tbh I can't stop myself.
warnings: MDNI 18+, pissing obvi, crying, some degrading
BANGCHAN!
- truthfully he's just too good at fucking you. knows where all your good spots are and hits them with precision. he's gripping you by the waist and bringing you down on his cock. breasts bouncing and your hands clutching onto his wrists.
- that warm, beautiful feeling builds, but it feels too intense, a little too familiar in your bladder. panic hits you but it's so hard to talk when all you can is moan and squeal. all you do is shake your head back and forth as a signal, but channie is so used to you doing that when he's in your pussy just right that he pays no mind to it
- when you pee, he thinks you're squirting at first. then he sees the consistency, the color, the everything. he pulls out real quick, thinking he's hurt you or its uncomfortable for you. which in fact, is completely wrong! it feels so good to pee mid orgasm, overwhelming actually
- the realization gets to you that you literally pissed on your lover, and with the high emotions, you can't stop yourself from crying. soft sobs and apologies tumble from your swollen lips, which makes Chan panic. he's soothing you immediately, telling you it's okay and that it's not a big deal. your tears nearly make him cry, he's such a softie!
"No baby don't cry! It's okay, I promise it's okay, im not mad! We can always take a shower yeah?"
MINHO
- has you doggy style, hand reaching around to rub on your clit. his chest is completely on your back, the pressure of everything just feels so good. you're able to warn him, telling Minho that you think you're gonna piss.
- thinks you're joking, laughs and slaps your puffy pussy. you keep repeating yourself over and over until it finally happens. hot liquid splashing on his fingers.
- he flips you over immediately, looking at your hazy eyes and twitching limbs. you're still peeing as your lay flat on your back, and he's looking at you slightly aroused and slightly shocked
-minho is very observant, and he watches your expressions to judge whether or not you're able to continue. you have such a fucked out face, your teeth biting on your lower lips as you look up at him shyly and embarrassed.
- he laughs breathlessly, surprised by yours and his excitement about the whole thing. thrusts his cock in you a few times to see how you react. your legs immediately wrap around your waist to bring him closer, and your arch your back for him to hit your favorite spot.
"pissing yourself? how old are you again?"
CHANGBIN
- oh he doesn't even notice. all he knows is that your pussy is his favorite and he's drowning in it. when he feels that warm splash on his tummy, he pays no mind to it. just adds to the wetness between your thighs
- you're repeating his name over and over, but changbin's sooooo lost he just repeats yours the same way.
- it's not until you have to reach up and grip his stomach, pulling to get his attention. thheennn he opens his eyes, and registers your wrecked state. soaked and writhing in pleasure. changbin coos and rubs your thighs, gripping the plushness.
- he's so stuck on his headspace, that just mindlessly plays with all your slick on your clit and his stomach. changbin didn't hear you say any safe word, so he takes the green light to keep going. doesn't care if you pee more or not. he just adores those pretty little sounds you make. it's not until you're both laying on the bed, coming down from your highs and back down to earth that he finally realizes you wet yourself
"you peed!?! did you like it? I liked it, can you do that again next time?"
HYUNJIN
- he loves everything about you, worships you even. you pee during sex? okay and? is he supposed to care?
- ofc he would stop if it bothers you that much, but it's perfectly safe to say he doesn't find it gross in the slightest. it just means he's making you feel so good that you couldn't tell the difference. and he basks in the warmth of your piss, he weirdly finds it intimate
- makes you feel better with plush kisses and hushed whispers. telling you that it feels nice and he loves all of you. makes you gush with cum this time, ugh he's such a sweetheart
- I feel like he would get cocky about it too during sex. like wow he's that good? he lasts extra long when you pee, just watching your cunt flood with piss onto his stomach is a beautiful sight
- kinda opens a door for him. doesn't take long before he's asking to pee on you. both of you are covered in absolute filth at the end, and a shower is much needed
"oh you're such a pretty angel for me. just got a little excited huh?"
HAN
- hot. like Hyunjin, hannie just loves you down to the atoms. but peeing? oh he's in love
- riding him while his hands play with your tits. your hands are splayed over his tiny waist when you feel the impending orgasm, with a little something else. you don't tell him though, you have a feeling he'd rather find it as a pleasant surprise
- imagine his needy expression when he sees you pee all over his stomach. he moans at the sight and bucks his hips up into you. he can feel the liquid travel down his stomach onto the sheets, filling his bellybutton
- oh he's beggingggg. for cum? for more piss? for you? who knows. but he's just saying please please please with little uh uh uh's and he's squeezing your breasts soooo hard, he's gonna leave little finger marks
- cums real quick after that, but you just keep riding him. there's little splash noises and your knees are soaked from the piss stained covers, but he just looks so fucked out and in pure bliss
"Baby, baby oh fuck yes. More! Make me dirty."
FELIX
- doesn't say anything about it, just keeps fucking you. he's not sure if it would embarrass you or anything, so he just waits for you to say something first
- but he does really like how it looks. your moans are higher and you can't stop shaking. he swears your pussy is softer, wetter. he gets more vocal too, pushing your thighs up to your chest to fully expose your wet clit to him
- ugh watching it squirt out of you onto his pelvis? oh he likes that a lot. rubs your sensitive nub to try and squeeze more out of you. smiles mischievously when you squeal and thrash, as if in warning
- felix didn't know he could be this nasty, he enjoys that you're marking your territory in the most animalistically way possible. makes his eyes roll back, deep moans when he finishes inside you
"Fuck, you're so wet. Wanna taste you so bad."
SEUNGMIN
- oh he's mean. asshole. you're squirming away from his brutal thrusts, pleading with him. oh but he wants you to. wants to see how mortified you get when you piss all over yourself. gives him a huge power trip
- he'll go harder, pin your hands above your head so you can't cover yourself. laughs manically when you finally let go. his beautiful smile twists evilly when you softly sob. he'll hold both your wrists in one hand and use the other to grip your face, forcing you to look up at him
- man he just loves that humiliating look on your features. the tears in your eyes, the quivering in your lips. makes your lips pucker open so he could spit in your mouth. if you wanna be nasty, seungmin is sure to leave you filthy
- your cries turn into choked moans when he starts fucking into you again. it's too much, emotionally and physically, but you love being a good girl for him. he always makes sure to make it up to you afterwards anyway
"Did you really pee on yourself? You really are just a dumb puppy."
JEONGIN
- it's really his fault, you wouldn't have peed if it weren't for his actions. he read on the internet that if you press down on your partner's stomach while you fuck them, it makes their orgasms much more extreme.
- yes, but at a cost. your release feels beyond amazing, seeing stars in the midst of it. you dont even recognize yourself going pee because everything just feel so good. head thrown back, back arched, eyes rolled, god you're cumming hard
- he's in shock. the article didn't mention anything about this. his thrusts slow, but he was soooo close to his own release that he can't fully stop. plus you seem to having a rather fun time, it would be a terrible idea to pull out
- you're clenching on his cock repeatedly, pussy fluttering around his cock from your intense orgasm. your cream mixed with piss is surprisingly a good combination to i.n.
- everything just sounds so wet, but you hardly have the mind to care. just that pleasurable thrusting in your walls that hit your deepest part numb your senses. are you cumming again? are you pissing? squirting? doesn't matter, you just don't want him to stop
- it's after you're both clean and snuggled that i.n shyly tells you of your accident.
"Your pussy felt so good like that. Is it weird that I liked it?"
#smut#skz smut#skz#stray kids#stray kids smut#skz lee know#skz seungmin#skz hyunjin#skz changbin#skz bang chan#skz Felix smut#skz han#skz felix#skz x reader#skz imagines#skzsmut#skz jeongin#skz i.n#skz drabbles#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz seo changbin#skz kim seungmin#stray kids bang chan#bangchan
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Tis' The Season
Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: old friends reappear, flashbacks in italics, complicated relationships, expensive gifts cause it's lew lew duh, uses roscoe as an in, brocedes mention, alcohol and the consumption of, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, creampie, soft moments at be end.
Word Count: 2,668
Author's Note: love me some lew lew and he gives fuckboy turned lover boy so here we areeeeee
merry smutmas series
--
An old friend finds his way to your front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t.
A knock on the door startles you as you hung the ornament on your Christmas tree. You shout that you're coming, grabbing your wallet out of your purse, as you jog to your front door. You assumed it was your take-out delivery guy and that's not who it was when you opened the door.
The man smiles at you, bags in hand and puppy between his legs. "Hi beautiful," Lewis smiles at you, bundled up in his winter coat.
You huff, looking at him. "Hi Lewis.. what are you doing here?"
He lifts the bags, showing you. "Happy holidays, y/n. I come bearing gifts."
"Seriously?" You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, Roscoe barks and gets your attention, you crouch down to pat his side, the dog leaning into your hand before waddling his way into the house. Lewis doesn't stop him, smiling at you.
"Are you gonna let me in, love? Roscoe is already inside, it'd be rude to let me freeze out here."
You don't have the heart to let them freeze, especially since you know how Roscoe loves him so much.
You let Lewis in, the man takes his shoes off by the door and follows you down the hallway to the living room. Roscoe had already made himself comfortable, shaking off the cold, and lying down by the fireplace. Despite you and Lewis not talking for years, you had left Roscoe's dog bed by the fireplace, as it had always been, picking it up to clean and setting it back in its spot.
Lewis sets the bags on the coffee table, hanging his coat off the arm rest of your couch. "I didn't know if you still live here."
"Well now that you do, I'll have to move, won't I?"
He chuckles, smiling to himself - nice to see your sense of humour has remained.
"Go on, open 'em." He nods towards the gifts on the table. You were adjusting an ornament on the tree, "I don't want it, Lewis."
"Oh hush, don't be annoying, y/n. Just open it."
You rolled your eyes, sitting across from him on the couch and picking up the first bag, the shape was a give away. Carefully, you pulled the bottle of wine out of the bag, some expensive French wine that you two had once upon a time when you took a trip to France. You read the label, setting it down on the table gently.
"Expensive," you eye him and he smiles. "Open the other one." He says quietly, watching as you tear the wrapping paper.
You freeze, the orange box staring back at you, the signature black and white ribbon around the box; Hermes Paris written across the top.
"Lewis.." You look at the man and he nods, waiting for you to go on. You carefully undo the ribbon, taking the lid off of the box. There's clearly a bag in the box, wrapped in a dust bag.
You feel underdressed and dirty, as if you should have showered before opening such a gift. You take the purse out of the dust bag, a Birkin in Bougainvillea - the same shade you had seen so many years ago.
His arm rested over your shoulders, the two of you cuddled on the couch as Lewis flipped through the tv channels. Formula One had wrapped up for the 2008 season and your dearest friend Lewis was now a Formula One world champion.
You, on the other hand, were still in med school.
Lewis had come home for the holidays, a yearly tradition of trashy Christmas movies and Chinese take out had commenced, Lewis picking out something for you two to watch as you flipped through the magazine.
"This one," you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder. "I want this one." You show him the bright pink Birkin bag - in the shade Bougainvillea. It's unrealistically, shockingly pink but it was the newest colour in the collection and you wanted it.
"I'm gonna get this for myself when I finish med school and I'm a rich surgeon."
Lewis smiles, "I'll get it for you, love. No need to wait so long, consider it your med school graduation gift." He kisses your head.
They don't make this colour anymore, you're sure it must have cost Lewis a fortune. "How did you even.. they don't make this colour anymore." You examined the bag, setting it back into the dust bag carefully.
"I know people, y/n."
You hum, "it's too much."
"It's your gift, y/n. I promised you, didn't I?"
You smiled, nodding as you carefully set the bag back into the box. "Thank you Lew, really."
The man smiles, it's been years since he's heard you call him Lewis. You two had a falling out a while back, right after his first championship win with Mercedes - you didn't like the way he treated you, pushed you off to the side as if you hadn't been there for him through it all. Lewis was and still is career driven, it has and will always take first priority to him but it ruined your friendship and it had ruined the same special bond he had with Nico.
In this moment, you let all that go.
The doorbell rings, intruding on your thoughts. "Expecting someone?" Lewis asks, glancing at you as you set the Hermes box on the coffee table.
"No.. oh wait yeah, the take out guy." You say, getting up. Lewis waves you off, getting up and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. "I'm not a broke med student anymore, Lewis. I can afford to pay for dinner."
"As can I, so hush." He says, making his way down the foyer to the front door, paying the man.
You can hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, the man thanks him before the door shuts.
The bags are taken to the kitchen and you see him looking around, clearly looking for something. You decide to put him out of his misery, getting up to help him look for plates. Lewis stops, leaning on the counter as he watches you get the dishes out of the cupboard.
"I'm sorry." He says, his words catching you off guard.
Your brows furrow, looking at him. "What for?"
"For everything. What happened in the past… That was between us and I know that it was my fault, and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I truly am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I would just like to start over if you give me the chance."
"Okay," you nod, setting the plates on the table.
"Okay."
He joined you at the table, the two of you sitting quietly and eating dinner like you've done many times over the years. Tonight was different though, there was a sense of relief in the air as if this tension had been lifted off your shoulders after so many years. The quiet sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes and Roscoe's snores coming from the fireplace filled the house.
At some point after dinner, you were putting the dishes in the sink and Lewis asked if he should open a bottle of wine that he brought. You shrug, reaching into the cabinet to get the glasses while Lewis pulls the cork out of the bottle before filling the glasses half way.
The house is quiet as the two of you sit on the couch, Lewis handing you a glass of wine. It's a comfortable silence, Lewis takes a sip of his wine as he looks over at you; he can't help but notice how you've aged beautifully over the years, not in a you look old sort of way but the maturity you've come into seems to suit you perfectly.
Next to him, you seem to make the same realization but with him. Lewis what is a baby faced, starting to find himself boy when you two had you falling out. Now he was grown, and even more handsome than the day you had walked away from him.
You take the first step, setting the glass down on the coffee table before reaching for Lewis's glass, setting it with yours.
The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife, the two of you sitting there in silence, inching closer and closer with each passing second until he finally closes the gap between the two of you.
Lewis's hands find your hips, the man pulling you onto his lap. You settle against him as if you had always been there. His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping under your shirt.
"No," you whispered, your hands wrapping around his wrists. Lewis looked at you confused, wondering if he had done something wrong.
"What?"
"We can't do this here."
"Why not?" He asks and you nod towards Roscoe, the dog still fast asleep by the fireplace.
Lewis can't help but laugh, his forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Love, he's asleep. It's fine."
"Oh my god," you smacked his shoulder, "that doesn't mean we're gonna fuck in front of him."
He raises an eyebrow, "we're gonna fuck?"
"Don't be a fuckboy, Lew." The man ignored your words, his arms wrapping around you, picking you up with ease, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom. Despite the years he hadn't spent there, nothing's changed.
Lewis drops you on the bed and you propped yourself up, watching him get undressed before he sits next to you, his hand cups your jaw and you smile at him. “Hi,” you whisper.
“Hi,” he smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your nose and you scrunch it in response. “You’re cheeky.”
“You love it,” he says, kissing your nose again.
Lewis leans down a bit more and kisses you but you pull away, sliding off the bed. “We can't.” You tell him, about to walk away but he grabs your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs.
Your hands rest on his shoulders, sliding up to rest on his jaw. His beard tickles the palm of your hand as you look at him. Lewis doesn't have to say anything and all the worries seem to slip away in the moment, it was as if you hadn't spent a single day apart.
The man pulls you down on top of him, his hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist as you sit yourself on his lap.
“We-” you go to remind him once more but he cuts you off with a kiss. Lewis flips the two of you over, letting you lay on your back when he gets off the bed, he pulls you to the edge of the bed.
Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Lewis always fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire.
He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the lace you’re wrapped up in under your clothes and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor. He shifts to sit on his knees between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.
Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking; he wants you to look at him.
Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.
Lewis knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Lewis gives in.
Two fingers pushing into you, Lewis glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.
Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. Lewis pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.
Your chest heaving, your grip on his hair loosening now that you’re right on the edge, you’re almost there and he just has to - he’s stopped.
“Why'd you stop?” You sit up, a pout on your lips when you look at the man between your legs.
“Shush, you love hanging on the edge,” Lewis tells you with a smile, unbuttoning his pants.
He lines himself up with you, and Lewis lets you take him little by little, pulling out almost all the way each time before finally pushing into you all the way. He's in charge and you both know it, letting him set the pace; slow and steady and it was driving you insane.
You needed him.
You didn’t want slow, you wanted it hard and messy, the type of fuck where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.
“Lew, come on.” Your hand reaches to rest on his hand that’s on your hip. “Need more.”
“Do you?” He hums, moving a little faster.
You know giving him attitude won’t help but you can’t help but roll your eyes, “more than that.”
“Needy,” he calls, pulling you closer by your legs.
Finally, you get what you want, Lewis’s hips hitting the back of your thighs, he leans over you and your arms are pinned about your head, both legs up on his shoulders now. The angle was enough to push you over the edge but he didn’t care.
“Lew please-” you tried to wiggle your hands loose but he didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, mockingly, “isn't this what you wanted?”
“It is, but-” your head tosses back, back arched when he hits the spot he was looking for.
“Oh,” he coos, smiling at you. “Is my baby so fucked out, she can’t even tell me what she wants?” His thrusts are sloppy, you knew he was just as close as you were.
“Gonna cum-” you barely get out between strangled moans. Lewis finally lets go of your wrists and one of his hands has wrapped around your throat.
“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.
He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches for you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.
“Look at me when you cum.”
You’re forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, focusing on him. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge. He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Lewis follows behind you.
The two of you are still tangled together, laying in bed next to each other. Lewis looks over at you, you look back at him with a sleepy smile on your face.
"Should I.."
"Should you.." you trailed off, waiting to hear what he says. Lewis shrugs, "should I go home?"
You take a moment to think, not about kicking him out - that was never an option but perhaps the things that lead you here.
There's a noise from outside the door, a sort of scratching. Seems like Roscoe had woken up and came looking for you two. Lewis takes the hint, getting up to open the door for the dog. You put on your shirt and your panties and Lewis lets Roscoe in, the dog jumping up on the bed with some assistance from his dad.
Lewis gets under the covers with you, Roscoe settled at the edge of the bed. You look over at Lewis, his hand resting on yours.
"I think you should." You tell him quietly and Lewis's brows furrow, a pout forming on his lips. "I should?" He asks.
You nod, "you should stay."
Lewis lets out a soft sigh, smiling. His hand squeezes yours gently. "I'll stay."
---
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#merry smutmas xoxo#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 smut
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┌─ “ ! „ SPARKSTONE
tw. blood kink, noncon, pain play, lashing/whipping, toji’s foul n mean, degradation, prostitution, daddy kink, kinda size kink as always w me heheghe
wordcount. 4.6k
a/n. thank you a million to the loveliest friends who always keep me goin when i'm having a hard timEEE rhi, wil and dymmiEE thanK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR betaing ily so much ♡ i hope i did the big man justice he is so yucky n i love it,, also extra shOutout n love dym bc she gave me the vision i saw i came i had to have it so !! iLY ILY ILY
fushiguro toji x fem!reader
If you know one thing from your years hiding in the shadows of the more powerful, it’s that danger has a taste. It sticks to your skin, longing for an opening. And tightens around your organs as you swallow it down, setting your hairs on end. Instinctually, humans know danger when they sense it, and by that same measure, they’re usually smart enough to hide before they get found. You might be simple prey in the eyes of the strong, but you hate the feeling deeply, and avoid it where you can.
You’re always aware of eyes that trail you, and you can smell it in the air.
The burgundy walls and nice chandelier bloom like a flower when it gets dark out. It fits the business. Like moths to a flame, that warmth lures men with a promise of a warm body and expert secrecy, and usually that’s plenty. Luckily for you, most of them leave before their wives start to wonder, which means you don’t have to deal with the drunk and impatient by the time you come in for a shift by early morning. Your days are easy, if you pretend you don’t know what types of people stumble home from their rooms in the seedier back of the building. Smelling of booze and body fluids and most of all, sex. That’s how it is.
Sorcerers are people too, by your cousin’s words. He’s not wrong. By the types of people that come in and out of the doors day and night, he made a smart investment starting this place a few years ago, and you’re grateful to get to work here. There’s no place for small-fry cursed energy users out in the daylight— and you’re not exactly dying to lay your life down for others in the first place. It’s this, or even less savory jobs for those people like you, who see things that others don’t. You’re more than happy with a simple life sitting behind the front desk, and going home to crash before the grosser individuals have a chance to harass you.
Which is why your skin itches a bit when the soft cling of the bell sounds so late it’s early. You’ve barely had enough time to open the doors. For not the first time, there’s a soft buzz of a warning sign that greets you as you sigh. Isn’t 5 in the morning a little early for even the more degenerate types? You get up to hang your jacket in the back room as you hear heavy steps make it into the foyer, and swallow. The slight pulling of cold under your skin has your lips pressed tight, swallowing. They don’t ring the bell, don’t yell or break things, don’t even talk. But they also don’t turn to leave.
So you smooth your hands down your pants, and eventually walk back to your spot behind the counter. It’s still dark out, still has the uncomfortable pressure that lingers as you cast a quick glance around the room.
And all you see is eyes that pull a cold shiver up your spine so quick it freezes you in place. The dark figure is splayed out with his arms over one of the couches, but those sharp eyes don’t move an inch from you when you meet them. Narrowed in their cold, metal blue darkness, and all-consuming. The man is not young, not old - but definitely older than you, scarred and quiet, and you can’t help it- when that foul, dangerous taste wells up in your mouth in the form of saliva.
After only a few seconds, you grab the phone and ring a number one, taking it off the horn for your own safety. It rings as the man gets up with a sigh and walks towards you, only leaving the space of the desk between you two. There's a soft mumble on the other side of the call, but because the horn is pressed to your desk, you can’t make out exactly what’s said before the customer - you assume he’s a customer, judging by the foul sort of stench of death that follows him around - clears his voice.
Only a sorcerer can have that sort of smell, and no sorcerer would enter here if not out for one thing. You don’t normally do intake, you realize as your hand trembles just slightly. You leave the horn of the phone for a pen instead, and try to rid your throat of the thick block that pushes on your windpipe. “Welcome. How can I help you?”
The man’s hair is messy, lazy, much like his clothing is; and he takes a moment to look around before his eyes flick to the stack of notes before you, the phone, and then you again. “Ah, uhm. Are there rooms open this late? Or early, I guess.” He ends up saying, a bored sort of lilt to his deep voice. You can’t even meet his eyes, but you can feel the painfully intense stare that doesn’t move from you again as you put on your best smile.
“There- should be, yes. Hmm, let’s see. Do you have a preferred girl you’d like to see here today?” Your hand only stops shaking when you press the tip of the pen to paper, if only to give your hand something to do as you quickly flick between the pages of the book.
“Not really.” He runs his hand under his nose, before leaning both forearms onto the desk and invading your space too much. You barely resist the urge to jerk back entirely, and feel the heat travel between you two. See, you were never able to fight curses. But you did always have a good nose, and his presence is like maggots crawling around under your skin. It’s unbearable. Your lids flutter as you stop flicking, and just focus on not throwing up entirely. Every part of him stinks of rot, oozing danger enough to suffocate you.
You simply pick one of the names at random, and start digging through the shelf for the correct key as fast as you can. Your heart hammers in your chest like that of a hummingbird, and is almost loud enough to keep you from hearing him when he speaks again. You can’t quite bear to meet his gaze, but one look up at his mouth reveals a tiny sort of curl to his lips that’s just as upsetting as the stench that swirls around the room. Everything feels wrong, and you want to stop yourself from hurling your guts out over the table. The man taps his finger on the counter a few times. “Are you new?”
Your head shakes faster than you can think about the answer. It wouldn’t be of any use lying anyway. For some reason, you feel like he’d be able to see right through you. When you finally find the right key, you feel like a weight lifts from your chest, and you slide it across the stone towards him. “I always work the morning shift, I don’t do nights.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t need to say anything else. Only when you slide the paper form across the table too, do you notice the call has disconnected - you’re not sure for how long - and you manage to force your eyes up to face him for just long enough not to seem impolite. But your blood still feels uncomfortable and itchy, even when he slowly picks up the pen and starts writing his name down at the top of the form. After a few seconds, he clicks the pen to his chin, and looks down at you with a coy smile as he straightens up. “Actually, what about you? You’re a skittish, little thing, and I have a bit of a hunger for something light and fresh today— I had the longest night ever.”
His scar pulls when the smile gets a bit more predatory, and you feel pinned in place like an insect under a magnifying glass when he aims the pen at you. “Looks like you’re a good listener, sweet girl.”
“I- I-” you start, stepping back until your back hits the wall and even then, there’s not nearly enough space between you and him, “I just work as a receptionist. I don’t do-” You might puke after all. Those eyes only seem to get wider when your bottom lip wobbles, and you feel the sick sense of glee he gets rather than see it. You don’t think -no, you know- you couldn’t take him in a fight, but still your fists ball up tight.
The lift dings though, to your relief, and a familiar face rushes out to give you an up and down. Your cousin’s got a bed head, deep grooves under his eyes as he jogs up beside you. “What the hell, you’re fine! When you didn’t respond on the phone I thought something might’ve happened to you.” You can’t say anything back, but you’re so glad to see him your mouth drops open and a little whimper comes out of your throat despite yourself. The young man frowns, before glancing to his side and - pauses. You can’t exactly place the expression he gets, but he must feel what you’re still feeling laced in the air, because he blinks a few times before taking a step back. “What’s this?”
“I was just telling him I’m- o-only a front desk worker,” you start, shuffling uncomfortably when those steely eyes find your body, giving you an awfully unsubtle once over. Pig. He doesn’t even bother to hide the way he’s undressing you with his eyes. Your cousin thankfully hums in agreement, and crosses his arms over his chest. “So-”
The brazen noiret doesn’t hesitate to nod though. And the confident tone from earlier doesn’t waver a bit. It’s like he’s barely inconvenienced by your statement at all. Like you’re playing hard to get. You’re not. "That's fine by me. But I’m going to be the exception.” Under his sloppy clothing, there’s no doubt he’s fit. He’s tall, and obviously wired with thick muscle that makes his shirt cling to his biceps, even more when he crosses over the furniture to reach a hand out to you, and make your shivers so much worse. “Come, little deer. I’m gonna have some fun with you.”
Your cousin places a hand on the other man’s shoulder though. “She’s not that kind of employee, sir. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, or else-”
“Or else what?” You swear you can feel a pin drop when his eyes finally move away from you, now at the other man. Your heart still beats wildly. “How about this, huh. You let me play with your little friend here, and I’ll decide not to kill you, her and then everyone in here for making my long night even longer.” He doesn’t even have to straighten up for you to feel like he means it. Even without flashing a weapon, or pulling out some fancy cursed technique, do you feel the increase in thick waves of tension; drowning you in that same, rotting stench of incoming disaster. You can’t ignore it, can’t do anything but gasp shallow, little breaths when he does round on your family, squaring up to him.
Though they’re both about as tall, the stranger’s built like a brick wall. He must know that, because he laughs. “I’ll be very nice to her, don’t worry.” His eyes tell everyone daring to take a peek that he doesn’t mean it, but at least you don’t flinch when he looks at you this time. Ah, that’s right. You really do hate sorcerers. The black haired man walks past to come grab your arm, and tosses the key you provided him earlier high into the air before catching it. It instantly is too tight, and hurts. You plant your heels into the floor, hang back with your whole body. You want to scream. Your other hand claws at his strong palm -wrung like a vice around your wrist- and you start to whimper.
“N-wait, let me go. I don’t work here like that, I- leave me alone, let me go!” You get pulled along anyway, like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum; he yanks you with barely any effort and sends you stumbling behind him. “No, I don’t want- aniki! Aniki, tell him- I’m not- I’m not for sale.” Hair whips around as you try to plead with the man left standing in the lobby, but though he looks guilt-stricken and apologetic, he doesn’t move from his spot. You don’t have a say in the way the man dressed in all black drags you behind, even when you try to make yourself dead weight and stop him. “No, no, no, wait, please! Kou aniki! Kou~ help me!”
You get it.
“Let me go! Let me go, pl-please! Hck.” Your voice breaks when wetness spills down to your hot cheeks. Really, you do get it. But the lamb still spooks when presented with the gun, even if it doesn’t run.
You’re sat on the edge of the bed as tears run down your cheeks and drip off your nose.
You can’t imagine it makes for a very appealing sight, but whether it’s indifference or sexual gratification, it’s clear your grief doesn’t matter to him. Toji, he said his name is, but you only know that ‘so you can cry it later’. It makes you sick - the sight of him makes you want to dig your nails into your own palms until you bleed. This is how it is for the weak everywhere, right? Sit and wait to die. As the cold embraces your body again, you sniffle, but wipe the tears away. You’re not a fan of waiting.
If he’s going to do it, better do it quick. Before you decide to start biting anyway. The dim lighting of the reddish room doesn’t do anything to warm the mood except make you even more aware of him as he kicks off sandals, slowly, demanding attention. He stares you down like a predator keeps an eye on his prey. The scent is still suffocating, but there’s a more alarming feeling blanketing your senses now. You’re scared. There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s in the goosebumps on your skin as he walks closer, and you scoot back onto the soft mattress to avert your eyes to yourself.
You’d rather go out kicking and screaming- but with your fear ran so high, you settle for the second best thing. “So, you’re not going to kill everyone, but just me, huh?” He’s taking off his belt as you ball your hands in the fabric, and force yourself to watch him under heavy lashes, with as much hatred as you can. “You like that? Scaring girls half your size?” You’re not sure either why you’re running your mouth. It must be the high of incoming death. “Does that make you feel powerful?” He doesn’t even pause, and pulls his shirt over his head to drop it aside too, then licks his lips.
After a slight moment of silence, he just shrugs. “Yeah. It does.” You scramble back until you reach the head of the bed, and pull your knees to your body. And the man crawls closer anyway, reaching to grab one of your ankles and drag you back. You don’t know why you’re struggling. It’d be easier if you laid down and died. As if reading your mind, he chuckles as he yanks you down until you’re spread out on your back, and pins you in place beneath his heavy body. “Don’t be so frightened. I’m not actually going to kill you.” He pushes over you, and makes sure you’re nose to nose when he talks next, basically drooling as you try to escape from him. “Just going to hurt you pretty bad. Don’t you like that?”
You struggle against him, but it’s not enough. He ties your hands to the bed painfully tight, letting the frayed edge of the rope burn into your skin each time you move- and proceeds to cut your clothes off with the knife that was hidden in his waistband. The torturous pace at which he does everything is almost worse, setting your entire body on end with anticipation. You thrash against him as he places a thigh either side of your body, and grabs your face in a large, rough hand. Once again you feel reminded that you’re really nothing in the face of someone more powerful. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying, and hurtful, and a migraine starts gnawing at your head as you glare up at him. And he almost pouts at you in mockery. “It’s cute that you’re trying so hard. You can cry, you know?” He leans in to lick along the shell of your ear down to your neck. “It’s going to happen sooner or later anyway. Why deny yourself?”
The hot touch of his tongue sears into your skin like it’s poison. You try to pull your wrists loose again, to no avail. The skin just feels achy and burning. “That’s really what you want to do, right? Cry for mommy and daddy to save you?” When he pushes back up to your mouth, laying his filthy lips on you again, you’re quicker than you think - and actually manage to bite him. It’s not enough to cause much damage before he jerks back, clenching one hand over your mouth to shut you up. But he runs a thumb along his bottom lip, and slowly starts grinning. Blood glitters on that finger before he licks it away, and raises his dark eyebrows at you. “Aren’t you brave…”
Before you have time to prepare yourself, that heavy palm meets your cheek, stinging it all over and rushing blood to the surface — it’s hard enough to pull real tears out of you, and your nose to start running as you bury your face into your arm. The sting spreads under the surface like fire. The low chuckle he lets out is mean and predatory, definitely when he takes that as an opening to start groping you through your bra, and soon that’s shoved up too to let him pet all over you. “Good. I don’t have to feel bad about all this, then.”
“Mh- hck-,” you whimper, trying to ignore the painful tugs he gives your nipples, pinching you. It still sends heat to your belly, and somehow that’s the most embarrassing thing of all. You hate him. More than anyone. “I-”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. I won’t believe you anyway.” He quickly whispers back, leaning in to force his mouth to yours and kiss you, tongue pushing against your teeth until you give in. He tastes like blood. His own, from the cut that’s not yet closed up; and he kisses like he’s trying to consume you. Rough hands knead and toy with your tits until you start squirming, before they glide down and make enough space to peel your panties down your thighs torturously slow. “Ahh, you look good like this. So pretty. Stay there.” He chuckles to himself as he gets up and you whine, not for him, but more his dragging it out. It’s not like you have a choice about staying…
When he comes back to you, something cold makes you jerk your eyes open. It’s something long and capped metal at the end, not sharp enough to stab you clean through— but it’s still hard and sharp and anxiety has you freezing below him. “Wh- what, what are you-” Would anyone even come help if you screamed?
Toji slaps the thing into his palm a few times, before those mean eyes glide over you, and you find yourself crossing your legs tight to protect your most sensitive areas instinctively. The sound of the metal whipping through the air is more than enough to put fear into you. Your lip trembles when he gets back onto the bed, and mirth plays in his eyes. “This is going to hurt.” Then he whips his hand down and instantly, your eyes shoot open with pain. Blood splatters as he cuts you open, each impact leaving a cut and nasty thumping that will make a bruise, telltale sign of a cursed tool.
“Ack- no, no- please stop! Stop, stop, please! Please, it hurts! It hurts!” Your eyes clench shut, but tears well up and come out anyway, making tracks down your cheeks. It stings so bad, and after even just a few lashings, you can’t stand it. Everything’s glowing and burning, hot all over as your knees knock together. Another whip has you trying to pull your arms out harder, to no avail. You don’t want to look, but the pain in your hands tells you that the heat running down your arm must be blood. Didn’t he say he wasn’t going to kill you? “Please, please, Toji. I’ll do anything! Anything, please- j-just no more.”
“I refuse.”
“Please~” you sob, only opening your eyes to see how he stands bent over you with his tongue caught between his teeth, head tilted in curiosity like a dog. The whip is dripping red, hot blood down onto his hands, and though it seems impossible to have so much blood coating everything- it’s yours, right? He stays quiet for a moment or two, and the thick tears wobble over your vision. “Please, I don’t want to die. Please. Please. I’m -” your throat closes up when he leans his heavy weight down over you and hovers his lips over your mouth, “I’m beg-begging you.” One hand comes up to grab your face, and he buries his nose into your throat, where a wet tongue starts swiping along your skin.
The soft groan he lets out is foul, coming back up with his mouth full of your blood, and he grins. “Keep going. Beg like a good girl~” Then he dips down, forcing his tongue and the coppery, familiar taste into your mouth, melting his lips to yours as he hums. His strong chest meets your naked, pitiful form as one hand comes down to yank your leg up around him, and the kissing gets more distracting, warmer, deeper — you want him to stay just like this. “Keep talking,” he whispers again, lower this time, and when you’re opening your eyes his stained hands are back to kneading your tits. “You’re sort of cute covered like this, whining like a baby. C’mon.”
Red’s covering everything. Every cut on your body is searing and tight and painful, and he’s pushing his thumbs along the closing wounds as if he’s trying to leak every last drop out of you; but you can’t really feel it. It must be adrenaline you feel coursing through your veins like a drug, goading your heart into pumping so hard you can see it bounce through the skin. “Pl-please.” Your chest rattles, as he watches you. As he degrades you, lifting both your legs up to your chest to spread you for him. “Please, Toji. Please f-fuck me instead. I w- need you to.” He takes the knife used to cut off your clothes, and ever so slowly drags it along the supple inside of your thighs.
And though you jerk, and your jaw clenches while tears fall, you can’t help it. You’re shaking your head, but your pussy clenches around nothing. “Please, please, need you. I’m sorry, I want- I want it. I wan’it… daddy.” Despite the short inhale he takes, sharp eyes pinning you beneath him like the crying mess you are, it’s not his reaction that has you blushing, heat filling your entire face with that cottony feeling. You’re so fucking weak. It’s pathetic.
“Hah,” he snorts when watching you wiggle and cry, presenting your wet, little hole to him, “whiny brat.” His hand lands onto your pussy and it makes you jerk again, squirming against his strong grip, before he turns his palm to grind into your clit and his fingers teasing into the soft folds. The wet squelching doesn’t stop the stinging tingling down your entire body, but - it’s also so unfair. You can feel yourself drip as his thick fingers slide in and out of you again and again, pushing into your plush walls just right. “Call out for daddy, go on.” You don’t want to know how much of it is blood, or how much is your own body betraying you.
You don’t see when he takes off his boxers, now finally as naked as you are - but you do see it when he starts rubbing the head of his heavy cock over your slicked up slit, catching your clit every once in a while. He cocks one brow at you at your silence, and softly hums a deep, raspy breath. You really are weak. “Daddy, daddy, please- pl-hck- please put it in, I’m losing my mind.”
“Seems like it,” he mumbles back, a cocky grin reappearing right before he grabs himself by the base and leads his fat cock inside you with no further warning. He’s too big as soon as he shoves himself inside halfway, grabbing your hair as you wiggle against him. The other half is forced deeper as his cock bumps your walls, makes your pussy drool and clench, and your mouth hangs open as you try to keep from screaming. Your back lifts off the bed a few times, legs opening wider to make room for his thick thighs as he bottoms out and stretches you too thin. “That’s a nice noise.” He’s laughing.
You can’t relate. Your entire body feels wound too tight, legs locking around his glutes in the naïve hope for some reprieve— before he pulls back and holds himself above you. Scared pecs and arms flex when he pulls all the way out, only to thrust back in too deep and have you choking on it. It’s hitting so deep it leaves you speechless. “Make it again,” he gloats as he chuckles into your face, before kissing you again, and this time he bites your lip, hard enough to taste copper. Oh, fuck. You cling onto the ropes for dear life with your numb fingers, and try to wrap your legs back around him with a choked whimper; but you can’t.
You’re shaking, and your pussy’s clenching and sucking around him hard each time his hips meet yours and heavy balls smack against your ass. You feel like he’s going to fuck you through the wall. Drool’s mixed with the blood you swallow, letting his tongue melt to yours, and make you even more needy for air. Each pump inside you gushes more slick out of your cunt, lewd noises and ‘pap’s filling the room along with his grunts. And you only pull away to gasp, and get pulled down onto him again and again. “Daddy, daddy, I’m- gonna- cum.”
And he plants a hand on your throat to squeeze until your eyes cross, free hand going to hold your shivering thighs in place as he buries his cock deep into your plush walls. “Dumb, dumb girl- I don’t need- ugh- you to tell me that.” You’re folded double entirely as he keeps the rhythm entirely ruthless, and your belly starts tightening under your body jerks shut around him, crying out. You can’t even feel your hands anymore, and your breathing’s so shallow and confused you’re lightheaded. Your toes curl so hard you feel like you’ll pass out, but Toji doesn’t stop. Not even when hot ropes of cum fill the heat of your spasming pussy up and spill out— he doesn’t even slow.
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#kinktober#toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw.dark content#tw.lashing#tw.noncon#tw.blood#tw.marking#tw.daddy kink
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Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her
A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.
Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader
second part || Masterlist
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"It's not that easy."
"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."
You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."
"What?"
"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."
Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.
But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?
---
That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-
Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.
"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.
"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.
Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.
It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.
You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.
"Were you out clubbing?"
Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."
"'S okay." You offered another small smile.
Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.
As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?
The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?
And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?
You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.
"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"
Cariño.
You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"
Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.
"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"
You frowned, "what?"
"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"
You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."
"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.
He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.
"I'm scared." You admitted.
"Cariño-"
"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"
You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."
"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.
Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."
He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."
"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.
You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."
"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.
"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.
He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.
"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."
----
A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.
second part
#daddy pascal#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#frankie morales#romance#joel miller#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#tlou#fluff#angst#request fic#pedro pascal narcos#pedro pascal tlou#javier pena#oberyn martell#rpf
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Text
my heart is working overtime
7x04 coda
Tommy kissed him.
Tommy—
A sound escapes him, soft but bright, and it takes him a moment to realise it’s a laugh.
Tommy kissed him, and five minutes after Tommy left for his shift and let the door swing slowly shut, Buck is still standing in the same spot full of wondrous laughter about it, because—
Tommy kissed him.
Buck fights the urge to reach up and touch his mouth, then realises there’s no one here to judge him and lets his fingertips trace the outline of his lips, committing to memory the feeling of Tommy’s mouth pressed against his. The scrape of Tommy’s stubble against his skin, the pressure of his fingers on his jaw—
Only—he doesn’t have to strain to preserve the memory, because he gets to do it again. On Saturday, when Tommy takes him on a date.
The laugh bubbles out of him again, wild and free, and he doesn’t know what to do with limbs. He doesn’t know how to settle in his skin, to be the same person he was before Tommy knocked on his door.
He doesn’t know if he is the same person he was before Tommy knocked on his door. If maybe being kissed like that changed something fundamental about him.
But then he remembers being thirteen years old, and the fierce burning in his chest when his best friend Johnny got his first girlfriend. He’d known, even then, that he wasn’t supposed to want Johnny to dump the girl and hang out with him instead, but Buck is starting to suspect he hadn’t know why he wanted that.
He remembers it happening again in high school, and again and again, so—
Maybe he is the same person he’s always been, only now he has all the information.
Buck’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to find a text from Tommy. Saturday. Don’t forget.
He stumbles over to the sofa and sits down, a grin creeping across his face all over again. Not a chance, he sends back, and sits there clutching his phone and staring into space, hoping that Tommy texts back. Terrified that Tommy will text back, because what if he doesn’t know what to say?
His grin fades. God, they’re going on a date. He’s going to have to know what to say.
The thought rises slowly. Just the hint of an idea at first, like a whale brushing the surface before it breaches, and then it crashes down on him with all the force of a blue whale.
What if he doesn’t know what to do?
What if he’s not good at it?
He’s only ever dated women before. He doesn’t know if he’d say he’s good at it—if it’s the kind of thing you can ever really be good at—but he knows how to do it, knows what’s expected on a first date with a woman.
What if dating a man is—different, somehow? What if there’s something he’s expected to know?
And buried under all of these questions, the real one he doesn’t want to look at head on: what if he has no game when it comes to men?
Because Tommy is—Tommy is cool, like he’d just spent all week complaining to Maddie about. Even if he hadn’t quite known how much he’d meant it until Tommy tilted his chin up and slipped the puzzle pieces into place.
Tommy flies helicopters to Vegas for one night, and to the middle of the ocean when his friends ask for it. Tommy plays basketball like he’s possessed by the spirit of James Naismith himself, and he kisses like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Whereas Buck tied himself in knots tight enough to nearly break Eddie’s leg because he couldn’t deal with how pretty Tommy looks with that fucking smile on his face, then word-vomited about just wanting to get to know him.
He’s not sure that counts as game.
He reaches for his phone again, then freezes halfway through his contacts when he realises he can’t call anyone to talk through this.
Maddie would kill him for telling her something like this over the phone. For—coming out, he supposes, trying the words on for size. That’s something he does now. As—
He hadn’t really stopped to consider it until now.
Bisexual, he thinks, experimental, and it settles somewhere deep inside of him, like there’s been a space waiting for it all along.
“I’m bisexual,” he says to the empty apartment, and he’s proud of the way his voice doesn’t shake. The apartment doesn’t answer, of course, but it doesn’t matter. Buck knows.
And he’s going to tell Maddie. He wants to tell Maddie, and soon. But he doesn’t want to do it over the phone.
He can’t call Hen, either, even though as soon as the thought occurs to him there’s nothing he wants to do more. He wants to call Hen and ask if she’d know, somehow, if she’d seen something in him he hadn’t yet known how to see.
But if he does, Hen will call Chimney, and he’s back to Maddie again.
And Eddie—
On any other day, Eddie would be his first port of call. But he can’t, not when Eddie is, allegedly, high on painkillers.
Not before he’s apologised for his behaviour on the basketball court.
Not before he’s explained himself—
Though something in him twists at the thought of going to Eddie and laying this all out for him. At the thought of telling Eddie that he’d kissed Tommy, and that he wants to do it again.
Eddie’s his best friend. Surely he wouldn’t—
Buck isn’t even sure what he’s afraid of. That Eddie would have a problem with him dating a man? That Eddie would have a problem with him dating Tommy, as if he’s trying to steal him away?
Neither seems like a likely scenario when he thinks about it with his rational brain, but he tries to imagine telling Eddie about his date on Saturday and feels like his heart drops into his stomach all the same.
He’ll tell Eddie after, when he knows how it went. Maybe that’s the thing he’s worried about—telling Eddie, and then having to admit come Monday morning that the kiss in Buck’s kitchen is as far as that particular road is going to go.
Which might just be the case, if he has no game with men. He doesn’t really know how he’s meant to fix that between Saturday and now.
Although… from the look on his face right before he’d leaned in, Buck gets the feeling Tommy just might want to help him figure it out.
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