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chuluoyi · 5 months

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MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

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papurgaatika · 2 months

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Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything.

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car.

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.”

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.”

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words.

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly.

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel.

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you.

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face.

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms.

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy,

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house.

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway.

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes.

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father.

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that.

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?”

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass.

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face.

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home.

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard.

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed.

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties.

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute.

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me”

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes, “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again.

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties.

“but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway.

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight.

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again.

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?”

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit.

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want.

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face.

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry”

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis.

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much.

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words.

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes.

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair.

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying.

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips.

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #papaya writes <3

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dollfacefantasy · 2 months

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I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.

(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap

word count: 5.3k

a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.

He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.

He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.

So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.

Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.

Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.

He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.

In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.

He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.

The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.

On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.

Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.

Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face.

“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.

His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.

“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”

“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.

Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.

“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.

He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.

But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment

Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.

“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.

“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.

You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.

“Thanks, I guess.”

You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.

“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

“Fine… I guess,” you answer.

You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.

“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”

“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.

“Well… yeah?” he responds.

You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.

He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.

His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.

“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”

You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.

“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.

“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.

“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”

While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.

“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”

He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.

“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”

“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.

“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”

You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.

“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”

More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”

He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.

It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.

“Sweet baby…” he whispers.

“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.

“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.

Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.

Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.

His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.

That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.

“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”

That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.

“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.

Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.

Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer

“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.

“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”

It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.

“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.

“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.

“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.

He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.

That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.

As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.

“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.

“You think so?” you ask.

“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”

Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly.

“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”

A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.

“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”

“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.

“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.

“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”

You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.

He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.

“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection.

He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.

“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.

The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.

“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”

His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.

Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.

He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.

His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.

“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.

He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.

“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”

You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.

“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.

You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.

“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.

You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.

He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.

“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.

You nod again, a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.

“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.

He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.

Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.

“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.

His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”

You gasp it again for him. Leon.

“Good girl,” he growls.

He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.

You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.

“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.

He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.

“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.

“Feels like forever,” you pout.

He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.

“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.

He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance.

After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.

“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.

You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.

“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.

His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”

“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”

He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.

“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”

A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.

“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.

His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.

“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”

“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.

With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.

“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.

You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.

He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.

You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.

Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.

He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..

That is until he hears your voice.

“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.

He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.

“Not yet,” he answers.

“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”

He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.

“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”

He was done for.

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

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sprout-fics · 5 months

Text

Danger Close

(Captain John Soap MacTavish x F! Reader)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI Wordcount: 3.8k Tags: Power imbalances, Unrequited pining, Shy Reader, Stuck in a lift, Dry humping, Dirty talk, Seduction, Praise kink, Vaginal fingering, Secret affair, Pet names Warnings: None (ask to tag) A/N: This is a quick little idea of the OG himself. I'll probably do more headcanon based ideas soon, but for now enjoy the filth

The thing about Captain MacTavish is that he’s…intimidating.

The self proclaimed red-blooded Scot is built like a brick shithouse, as one of your fellow officers once put it. Ruggedly handsome, strong, thick with muscle with coarse hair over his arms and stubble along his jaw. There’s a scar over one of his eyes, a slashing wound that should have blinded him. It crinkles slightly when he offers a lopsided smirk that taunts danger, that bares a reckless nature he hasn’t fully shed despite his years of experience. You tell your bunkmate that he’d make very good money as a bouncer at a nightclub, and her laughter nearly wakes up the whole hallway.

Intimidating.

Which is not necessarily the right word, you think. The Captain has a way around his men and fellow officers, an easy likeability that’s hard to ignore. He commands respect from his troops not in the way of brute posturing or snarling demands, but in the display of capability that has saved their lives many times over. He’s the firm touch on their shoulder as they check their gear before deployment, the firm reminder of level headedness over comms, the sharp, ringing command that cuts through gunfire when everything else has gone wrong.

The man exudes leadership, and you are among those helplessly drawn to it.

Yet there’s something closed off there that you can see in his eyes, an untold story that has drawn the lines of age in the corner of his steely gaze. It feels as if there’s an invisible barrier around him that prevents others from getting danger close. Magnetic, it pulls you in despite yourself, an inextricable attraction towards the nick of a blade you long to taste. Dangerous, like a moth to flame.

Not that you’ll ever do anything about it of course. As much as you daydream about the time you saw the captain’s broad back shiny with sweat on the sparring mats as he trained the other recruits, the low lilt of his accent that clouds your thoughts, you know it’s a terrible idea to develop a crush on your superior.

It’s hard not to, not when you deliver him his daily intelligence report in the afternoon, and he always makes sure to look up and greet you as you hand over the folder, smiling and offering: “Thank you, lass.”

Traitorous, you think, how your stomach devolves into butterflies just at the sight of his pleasant grin.

Worse is the fact that despite his gruff exterior the man is always such a gentleman to you. He gives you his full attention when you speak, ensures his other male officers do not interrupt or speak over you, holds open doors when you walk into the meeting room together, ensures his men don’t harass you just for your status of being a woman. You think it’d be easier if he was just as pompous and arrogant as his fellow officers, but instead Captain MacTavish has the ability to make you feel special, like you’re the only other one in the room with him.

It makes you feel a little guilty, admittedly- that he’s kind and decent and you constantly think about what it would be like to bend the rules so he can bend you over his desk.

Caught in fantasy as you are, you don’t notice the way his eyes watch you out of the corner of his eye, take note of you stretching on your toes to reach something in a filing cabinet, the way your brow scrunches in thought as you scrutinize his paperwork, the slight tremble of your hand when you pass him a cup of coffee in the mess hall, the duck of your head when he offers an amicable thanks.

You don’t notice the way he’s thinking anything but decent thoughts about you.

It’s hard to help. You’re a sweet, shy thing, and Soap is a man not immune to the charm of your bashful nature. He enjoys your wide eyed gaze as he selfishly sneaks gentle touches, a hand on your shoulder as he scoots past you in a crowded hallway, letting his fingers linger a little too long when you pass him a stack of files for him to sign off on, the barest little hitch of breathing he hears when he lets his voice dip an octave as he speaks.

“Thank ye, bonnie.” He tells you this afternoon, and relishes the way you repress a shiver at the endearment.

Later, when he catches you at your desk gazing dreamily into space, he enjoys the glassy tint of your eyes, and imagines you’re thinking of him.

And, secretly, he thinks what it would be like to have you mewling and trembling under his war-worn hands.

For all his decency and charisma, there is one thing you don’t know about the captain, and that is that he’s a wolf.

And you, you’re an adorable bunny waiting for the killing bite of his seduction.

Yet shy as you are, never to act on this, Captain MacTavish decides to take things into his own hands.

He has you move your desk to his office, helping him with his own paperwork, and offers to buy you lunch on the basis of being a good boss, a good superior. He ensures you have everything you need for your space and helps you pick out a better desk chair when you complain about the standard base ones hurting your back.

And if he uses his rank to ensure your colleagues and higher ups don’t complain? Well. That’s his business.

“Good lass.” He tells you in passing when you find a piece of intelligence he requested, offering a small squeeze of your shoulder and feeling you stiffen under him before exhaling unsteadily- unaware of his smug grin just behind your shoulder.

Cute, the way you think he won’t notice your little reactions, your dreamy eyes and the fantasies hidden behind them.

In all places, it comes to a head in a stuck lift.

The meeting is in fifteen minutes, and you insist on taking the lift because of the obstacle course drills you were put through yesterday, whining about your aching thighs. Soap, the good captain that he is, acquiesces and allows it, crossing his arms and watching the doors close-

Only for the lift to give a groan and shudder to a stop.

“Bloody old building.” He gripes, giving the doors a small kick in grumbling protest. “Told maintenance these things needed to be repaired months ago.”

He’s not concerned. Worse comes to worse, he’s crawled up through elevator shafts before. Besides, it’s not as if you’re on the eighth floor, merely stuck between the first and second. It’s an inconvenience, but not an inescapable or deadly one. He’s not as young as he once was, but this shouldn’t be too beyond him.

You, on the other hand, press the call button frantically, trying to ask for help and rescue. The operator is quick to tell you that mechanics and the fire brigade are on the way, and tells you to stay calm.

“How long are we going to be stuck in here?” You ask Soap, fidgeting. A nervous little filly, he thinks, as he eyes you with mild amusement.

“Maybe an hour.” He drawls, watching as your eyes go wide.

“We’ll miss the briefing.” You manage, a little choked, as if that is the gravest of your concerns, and not the thoughts Soap has about taking full advantage of the privacy he has with you.

“Aye.” He replies with a snort. “Shame, that.”

You make a little sound at that, something between petulance and despair, slumping into the wall as your face crumples.

“Hey, easy.” Soap offers, voice gentler now as he approaches you, gloved hands easily balancing you by your elbows across the wall. “It’s alright lass. We’ll be free in no time. Take a breath for me, aye?”

You nod at that, eyes turned towards the ground to avoid his gaze as you suck in a deep breath, hold it, and then let it out slowly.

“Good girl.” He purrs, unable to help himself, and relishes the way your eyes dart up to his, pupils blown wide as you realize for the first time just how close he is.

This is dangerous.

He’s got you crowded into the wall of the lift, all but blocking escape with his brawny frame. The shadow of his figure falls over your smaller form, dwarfing you. His hands cup you by your arms, bare fingers skimming along your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps rising in their wake. Your captain’s expression is calm, but even with the overhead light backlighting his face, you can see the intent, the scarcely concealed fixation there hidden beneath kind eyes and whispered only though a knowing smirk.

Prey in a snare.

“S-sir-” You manage, voice tight as you finally realize the true nature of his intent with the way he hums a low, deep note in his chest that makes you shiver.

“Thought I wouldnae ken you watching me, bonnie?” He asks in a low, rumbling intonation that vibrates at the base of your skull. “Sneaking looks and off with the faeries everytime I called you a good girl?”

“I-” You try, and it’s a useless effort really. You could summon a thousand excuses, but you know none of them would work on him. Captain Mactavish’s eyes are too keen, too knowing for that. If he’s seen this much, if he’s seen the way you daydream while he doesn’t look, the way you try desperately to quell your infatuation with him, then there’s no use trying to pretend otherwise.

"You like being called a good soldier? A good lass?” He goes on, and you bite down hard on a whimper of want that threatens to bubble up your throat. Your captain’s thumbs stroke the inside of your elbow gently, pressing down on the divot of sensitive skin and loosing an unsteady breath from your chest.

“Look at you wobbling like a wee fawn.” He purrs in that low lilt of his. “This isn't because of me, is it? Developing feelings for your superior. Tut tut. Naughty thing."

“Captain-” Your voice is a strangled thing in your throat, choked by the cognitive dissonance of this, of something straight out of your wildest fantasies, a secret you keep to yourself in the dark of your bunk with your fingers buried between your thighs.

John hums, allowing his eyes to roam down your form, gently caged into the wall as you are, eyes glimmering with a hunger you didn’t know he possessed- A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Tell me to stop.” He murmurs then, voice serious. “I won’t touch you. I’ll transfer you if that’s what you want.”

“No.” Your answer comes so quickly it surprises even you, and suddenly your fingers are gripping on the inside of his forearms as if trying to keep him from retreating. “...Please.”

He gives you a moment, then another to reconsider, to retract your agreement and shove him off you. When you don’t, your captain grins.

“Shy little bonnie.” He croons. “Didnae have the words to ask for what you wanted from your superior, did you?”

You shudder when his gloved palm cups your cheek, leaning instinctively into it, sweet and willing. His thumb presses down on the plush bed of your bottom lip, and it takes a moment of courage to part your lips, lean forward so it rests on your tongue instead.

The sound your captain makes is carnivorous.

Hungry, wanting, dark as sin as he watches you engulf the digit and make eye contact with him, as if tempting danger. He tastes like the steel like of a sharp blade, cutting through your senses and leaving crimson want dripping against your thoughts.

He removes his thumb so a drip of spit trails after it, and before it can spill your captain bends and kisses you.

It’s dizzying, all consuming, all open lips as he groans into you, one arm snaking around to the small of you back to balance you on wobbly legs, the other gripping your chin and directing you exactly how he wants you, tilting your head just so he can kiss you deeper. You feel unbalanced by the sheer force of it, leaving little choice but to clutch at his uniform, go a little limp in his arms and mewling into his open mouth.

“Aye, that’s it.” He groans between wet, sloppy kisses, dragging his teeth over your bottom lip and feeling you press back into him, eager for more. “Fuckin beautiful, hen.”

His warm breath spills against your open throat, where you think he might bestow a killing bite if you’d let him, groaning in appreciation at the raw, heady taste of you as he takes everything you can bear to give him.

“Sir-” You whine when he wedges a knee between your legs, hands planted firmly on your ass so he drags your clothed cunt over the rise of his thick thigh. “Oh God-”

“No God here, love.” He huffs as your head flops gently to the side, his words fanning across the shell of your ear so you shudder. “Just you an’ me.”

That might be for the best, you think. One less witness to the act of your captain defiling you the way you’ve dreamt of for longer than you care to remember.

Your captain’s hands grasp the fat of your ass as you give an experimental rock onto his thigh, stifling a little whimper as you do. It only makes him chuckle, dark and hungry into your ear as he nibbles on the sensitive skin beneath your jaw.

“C’mon lass, you can do better than that.” He huffs, and you feel him smile against your neck. “Go on, take what you need. Wanna feel you get off just from grinding on my leg like this.”

You’re not sure if you can, honestly, but gods above do you want to try.

You grab at his neck for support, pressing him further as he bows over you, engulfs you with the heat of his frame. Then you allow your knees to fold, letting him support the weight of you as you begin to drag yourself along his thigh.

The friction is delicious, sends your nerve endings alight with sensation as the pleasure of it spills past your lips with an open groan. You wonder if the mere act of this, of humping your superior’s leg like a cat in heat while he purrs praises into your ear, does more for you than the actual motion itself. Either way, you begin to feel a warmth unfurling in your core, cunt clenching down on a needing emptiness that has you bury a whimper into his shoulder.

“Thaaat’s it.” MacTavish- John, you wonder if he’ll let you call him, croons in your ear. “Lemme hear all those pretty noises, hen.”

You do, realizing there’s no one else to hear you. You give in, allow him to hear every hitch in your chest, every shuddering gasp and breathless plea of “S-sir-”

“Feel good?” He asks, hands kneading the swell of your ass as he helps rock you along his thigh. “Just imagine bonnie, could have had this weeks ago if you’d only let me.”

He’s right. If you’d only said something to him, had made a move on him, then you could have been having his low, Scottish lilt purr right in your ear as you try to get off ages ago.

But this is good too.

“Cannae even imagine how much it took for me not to pounce on you.” He huffs, pressing fluttering kisses against the thrum of your pulse. “All those sweet little looks you thought I couldn’t see, the way you were mooning over me like I wouldnae notice-”

“That’s- that’s not-” You try, managing to sound a little indigent despite your heaving breaths.

“Oh I know, bonnie.” He croons with a huff of laughter. “You were just trying to be a good soldier, didn’t want to get caught seducing your superior, aye? What would the other officers think?”

You whimper at that, clutching a little tighter if only out of a remnant pulse of shame. Yet John doesn’t let you stop, drags you more insistently over the bulge of his thigh straining through his pants.

“They don’t get to know.” He tells you, smirking. “They don’t get to know how sweet ye are like this, how pretty you look trying to come all over my leg, aye bonnie?”

You feel it rising inside you, feel your oncoming climax mount with every low rumble of words against your skin, with the way his scent clouds your senses so there’s nothing else but the sensation of him, the pleasure of you grinding your wet, empty cunt against his leg.

“C’mon, little one. Can feel you trying. What’dye need?” He huffs, and you shake your head into his shoulder.

“Empty.” You tell him in a little, shy whisper, face burning as you refuse to look him in the eyes. Yet a hand catches your cheeks, turns you up to his gaze so you have no choice but to look into his bright, glimmering stare.

“What was that?” He asks, and Gods, you think he may eat you alive. “Need to use your words, sweetheart.”

“E-empty.” You tell him a little louder, catching sight of the glassy eyed stare reflected in his eyes, feeling your legs shake with the effort of trying to hold your own weight.

“Oh poor wee lass.” John sighs, bending down to kiss you again, swallowing the little whimper that bubbles up your throat. “Dinnae fash, I’ll take care of you.”

He pulls away so quickly you nearly drop to the floor, were it not for the hand slung across your hip that keeps you upright. You hear the clink of a belt, and for a single hopeful moment you think maybe it’s his, only to groan in disappointment and need as he squirms his hand past your own waistband, slinking his fingers between your folds.

“Christ almighty, lass, you’re soaking wet.” He breathes, bracing his forehead against yours so you feel his warm huff of air on your swollen lips. “Just from this?”

Yeah. This. You want to tell him. As if ‘this’ isn’t something straight out of your wildest wet dreams, him easily handling you in close quarters, treating you with greedy hands and yet touching you as if you’re something prized, a beautiful weapon he’s admired from afar for far too long.

When he sinks a finger into you John groans a deep, resounding noise in his chest, open and appreciating the way your slick heat instantly clenches around his fingers.

“Fuck, the feel of you, hen.” He breathes as he pumps his fingers with deliberate slowness, as you whimper and writhe and try to force yourself down onto his hand to chase your just out of reach climax. “So warm and tight, cannae even imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”

“Please.” You gasp desperately, body flushed with want as you grind against his fingers, seeking to angle them just right. “Captain.”

The sound John makes is primal, and you’re given little warning before suddenly he’s plunging a second finger into you, giving you only a moment to adjust to the stretch before he’s setting a rapid pace that has you wail into his chest.

“Is alright lass, I got you. C’mon, wanna feel you cum all over my hand.” He growls, panting, entire body coiled tight as he pushes you further towards your climax. “I’ll fuck you proper after, promise. Just need to feel it when you come, wanna hear how pretty you sound, c’mon-”

It’s that thought, the one of him having you right here in the lift, bending you against the wall and fucking you just like this that makes you arch with a broken little shout, clenching down hard on his fingers as he slowly works you through it, murmuring sweet endearments down at you as you tremble. You feel your walls pulse around his thick digits, coating them in slick and you realize too late he never took his glove off.

You nearly buckle as the last pulse of pleasure pulses bright and powerful through you, clutching at him with a little whimper as you come down slowly. You’re warm all over, muscles flooded with a bright release that has you wobble where you stand. The pulse of your heartbeat echoes in your ears and you try desperately to catch your breath amidst it all.

And, naturally, that’s the moment when the lift starts moving again.

You almost entirely lose your balance when the floor beneath you jolts, squeaking as you lean fully into your captain. He doesn’t seem to be caught off guard at all. If anything, John seems amused at the sudden motion of the elevator, huffing a warm sound of disbelief up towards the ceiling.

“Think we’ll still be late for that meeting, bonnie?” He asks, grinning mischievously, as if he didn’t just make you come so hard your knees wobble.

“No sir.” You breathe, leaning back against the wall as he pulls his hand from your pants, leaning up and licking his fingers free of your wetness.

“Fuck.” You breathe helplessly, head flopping back. “You’re glove-”

He hums, as if just now realizing you stained the palm of his fingerless glove, pulling the velcro strap with his teeth as one hand balances you while you regain your strength.

“Keep it safe for me.” He tells you, jamming it into your front pocket as the lift whines to a halt. “Give it back to me later. After the meeting.”

After can mean a lot of things, you realize.

The lift dings pleasantly, and your captain hauls a brawny arm to keep the door open for you, ever the gentleman.

“Go on then lass,” He smiles, friendly and easygoing despite the knowing, hungry glimmer in his gaze. “Tell them I’ll be a few. Have to give the mechanics a talkin to.”

You nod, still a little shell shocked, a little disheveled, blinking dazedly as you scoot past him, then pause.

Checking the hallway, you twirl around and lean up to kiss him so you hear the little breath of surprise against your lips.

“After, captain?” You ask sweetly, blinking your lashes up at him and watching his pupils blow wide.

“After.” He declares, voice just as sultry, leaning down to nip teasingly in front of your face, fangs and all.

You sway off to the meeting, sneak into the back row and explain the hold up, and nobody looks at you twice, shy as you are. When your captain comes in five minutes later, only you notice the way he struts to the front of the room, smirking wide and assured as he briefs his men on their next target.

“Weapons hot, lads.” He declares, arms crossed, a smile taunting danger. “We’re danger close.”

#john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #captain mactavish x reader #captain mactavish #captain mactavish x you #I saw a gifset and went a little feral apologies #This is also unbetad to hell so sorry for that too

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limarieb · 10 days

Text

so high school

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)

Word Count: 4.0k

Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you — how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?

Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.

After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.

But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.

You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).

Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.

Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.

The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.

As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."

You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.

She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"

That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.

Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.

She did.

She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.

Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."

"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."

You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."

With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.

You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.

While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.

Is this what people were talking about in high school?

As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.

You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."

You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"

She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"

Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."

“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”

“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.

You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?

Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?

Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.

What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.

The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.

Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).

You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.

Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.

She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.

"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.

As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.

When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."

As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.

Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!

You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?

Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.

When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.

"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."

"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."

Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."

She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.

As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).

Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.

So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.

At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.

Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.

It landed on Wanda.

Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.

She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.

With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."

Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.

She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.

"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.

"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."

"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."

Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."

"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."

The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.

"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"

You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.

"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.

Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."

Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"

She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.

Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"

Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.

Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.

A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.

"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.

"More than," you affirmed.

She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."

Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.

A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.

"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."

Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."

You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."

She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.

Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.

After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.

The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.

However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."

You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.

Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.

Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.

You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.

With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.

After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.

"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."

"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."

You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."

She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.

You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."

End.

#limarieb #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #marvel imagines #limarieb wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

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lalal-99 · 21 days

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Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people.

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

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bluejutdae · 2 months

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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jisung x you

genre: friends to lovers, romance

warnings: none

The guy is boring, misogynistic and keeps talking about his job like it’s the best thing in the world. He’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. How exciting can it be?

What did Hannie mean with “play along”? You smile thinking about your best friend. You have been friends for years now, and you’re convinced he’s your soulmate. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s unyielding in his idea of needing to be alone, to only focus on his career and not let romance distract him. You love him, but who are you to try to convince him he’s wrong? So you keep your feelings in line and don’t let them overflow.

“Oh, my love, please forgive me! I know I made a mistake but take me back!” A loud voice interrupts the umpteenth story about bankers. Jisung is in the restaurant now, hands clasping over his heart and his big boba eyes on you. “I can’t lose you, you’re the best thing in my life.”

Oh, so this is what he meant by “play along”?

“Sung”, you start. In a very dramatic manner, he interrupts you, a finger on your lips and unshed tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t talk. Hear me for a moment, I have to ask you this, even if it’s the last thing I get to say to you”.

You repress the instinct to roll your eyes. To your right you can hear a confused “what the fuck is happening?”. Jisung’s voice is loud again, tho, and he’s suddenly on his knee, looking up at you with a teary smile. “My love, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He has a ring in his hand. Where the fuck did he find a ring? Does he go around with an engagement ring in his pockets? Well, this is your best friend. And he’s fucking crazy.

You almost throw the napkin on the plate and get on your knees in front of Jisung. “Yes, yes, of course!” The smile on your lips is one of amusement, but for everyone is the smile of a newly engaged girl.

A round of applause fills the room and soon there’s a chanting of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’.

The thing is: Han didn’t think this through. Did he stop at a street vendor's stall to buy the prettiest (fake) ring for this? Yes. Did he plan this whole farce in his head to have fun? Also yes. Did he put his fingers in his eyes so he would tear up? Sadly, yes. Did he stop for a second thinking about the fact that newly engaged couples kiss? No.

Jisung looks at you with comically large eyes and his mouth slightly agape and you take pity on him. Suppressing your laughter, you cradle his face into your hand and kiss him. It’s just a simple peck: your lips on his soft, pretty lips; your hand covers the most of the kiss from the guy you had a date with, but it’s the least of your worries now.

It’s just a simple kiss, chaste and functional to the farce, but it’s something you’ve dreamt for a while. The minutes following are a blur in your mind: you left your share of money on the table, apologized quickly to your date and grabbed your coat, leaving the restaurant hand in hand with Jisung.

You’re running on the empty sidewalk, still holding hands, laughing loudly when it starts to snow. It’s so intense and so beautiful, you both go quiet and stop. You love the snow falling: it’s so peaceful and beautiful, the snowflakes dancing in the hair, light and frozen. Seen from the outside, you’re just another couple holding hands in the streets, looking at the snow falling. For a moment alone, you let yourself daydream.

You let yourself imagine it’s real, that you’re a couple holding hands and walking home where you’ll get cozy on the couch, under a blanket, to watch the snow from the window. You’ll kiss again, you’ll make love, you’ll live your lives together and you’ll love each other forever. God, you’re so dumb. Why are you hurting yourself like this, now? It was just a fake kiss.

“So… we kissed.” Han says in a low voice. You can sense he’s looking at you, but you’re not ready yet to look at him and break the calm bubble you created around yourself.

“It wasn’t a real kiss.” It can’t be. Otherwise you kissed your best friend, who you’re in love with, and if it’s true then you can already see the floodgates crack under the pressure.

“It was for me.” The air is cold and it’s freezing your nose, but the shock of his words makes you forget all that.

“Uh- what?”

“The kiss. It was real for me. I know it wasn’t a big kiss but it was real. And I’ve thought about kissing you millions of times but this time it wasn’t a dream and it was real and I don’t think I can go back to when we hadn’t kiss and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but now I know how your lips feel on mine and-“ he stops and takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you really think it wasn't a real kiss? Does it… does it really mean nothing to you?” He asks, and you’re not sure why but you can feel your heart aching. Why does it feel like you’re rejecting him? He’s the one who doesn’t want a relationship, he’s the one who banned love from his life. And you tell him so.

“You said there was no place for anything that wasn’t work in your life.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

He turns completely towards you and you can barely see the redness on his round cheeks, but it’s there. “Before you kissed me and suddenly I realized how stupid I’ve been all this time. I know you’re the perfect girl for me, but I was too convinced I couldn’t handle a relationship. But why do I have to deprive myself of something I know would be good?”

“Don’t do that, Hannie. Don’t say this if you’re gonna change your mind later. You’ve repeated the same thing for years, and now suddenly you want more?” You can endure the idea of just being friends even if you’re in love with him, but you won’t let yourself get too hurt. And you’ll get hurt if he wants something now that he’ll change his mind about later.

“I’ve always wanted more. But I didn’t realize exactly how much I was giving up!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Jisung lounges and grabs your hand. When did you let go of each other’s hand?

“You say that now, but tomorrow or in a week, you’ll be tired and stressed over work and you’ll decide you don’t want another commitment…” You feel like an asshole, but you’re just trying to protect yourself from an even worse heartbreak. His face shifts, and you remember that it’s your best friend the one you’re talking to, that no matter what he’ll always love and protect you from harm.

“Do you trust me?” You nod, fingers squeezing his.

“Then trust me I won’t change my mind. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You bite the inside of your cheek, considering his words.

“I want more. I want to be able to kiss you everyday, I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. I want to be by your side on the days I’m stressed and on those I’m happy. I want to be by your side anytime you’ll let me.”

“Promise me you won’t regret it.” How can you say no to him? You’re scared he’ll break your heart, but it’s true he never broke a promise.

“I won’t regret it.” Again, it’s you who kisses him. This kiss is nothing like the previous: it’s hot and his lips are immediately moving under yours. You can feel his breath on your lips and it’s a heady feeling and you want more and more and more.

You want to know what he tastes like and how his tongue feels on yours, so you’re quick to prod at his lips, demanding entrance and licking into his mouth. The sounds Jisung makes are the best sounds you’ve ever heard, and all your worries dissipate.

Kissing your best friend under the snow wasn’t how you expected the night to go, but you’re not gonna complain…

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #jisung x you #jisung x reader #jisung fluff #jisung fanfic #jisung texts

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hamiltonells · 11 months

Text

pieces of us~max Verstappen

pairings:max verstappen x reader

warnings: pregnancy,swearing,smut,max bring a simp, time skips,bad writing, please note that the time it takes place is kinda everywhere. literally bad bad bad smut writing

summary: you always wanted to become a mother, now the time has come.

also, please request any dad!max universe ideas:)

side note: I hate my writing so much, I think I need to do it from different pov, but it’s horrible, so enjoy this crap writing

you always dreamed of becoming a mother, watching your own mother doing such a good job probably didn't help, you would always find yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to have a mini you running about.

you met max through Daniel, max was and still is everything you looked for in a man, you don't think you met anyone quite as prefect than him, that was five years ago.

now, your eight months heavily pregnant and let's just say you didn't think pregnancy or motherhood was going to like this, you can't walk, you waddle, half of the time your confused on what your feeling with you hormones messing you about, moodiness, also the constant hunger.

still saying that you loved it, nothing comes close to the feeling if you little of kicking around inside you and let's just say max? he more than loved it.

“fuck” max grunted as he rounded the corner of your living room “fucking stupid wall” he grunted again as he hit his toe on the wall, he could hear your laugh when he finally reached you.

“you won’t be laughing if I dropped you ice cream would you” he sweetly smiled at you sarcastically as you smile dropped as he passes you the bowl of different flavours of ice cream.

it was incredibly hot, too hot for you liking as you was spread out on the sofa in maxs shorts and a crop top, showing your belly the heat was killing you let’s say hot weather and pregnancy didn’t go together,the small fan max found in your guys loft pointing at you.

max sits down next to you, in nothing but his shorts his shirtless body showing each of his little freckles that he has.

“hello you” max puts his his hands on you bump, your little one immediately kicks, maxs leans down and kisses you stomach, his beard rough against you belly and you let out a giggle as he kisses all the way up you body, untill he gets to you lips and double kissing them.

“don’t forget we have the red bull party this week” you hum to your love as he drops his head cuddling into you bump, max sighs “ we don’t have to go, your eight months y/n/n, don’t want you to be on your feet long and get tired” he explains, “max we’re going” you laugh as you put your hand through his hair.

“Je ziet er prachtig uit”max says while wrapping his arms around your waist, soothing the silk dress you have on.

(you look beautiful)

max has a all black suit on, the white crisp shirt underneath his tie around his neck he looks handsome as always, you have a dark deep blue silk dress on perfectly hugging your stomach.

“can you do my tie for me please love” he asks as you turn yourself to face him, you reach around his neck to do it, you smile widely when he smothers kisses all over your face.

“please don’t tell me you wearing them” he sighs as he sees the stiletto heels on your bed you just smile at him.

max doesn’t seem to understand why you wear heels while pregnant they hurt you and you always complain that you feet ache without the stupid heels but to you, heels make you feel beautiful still and that you can show people you not actually letting you self to while pregnant.

“don’t complain please max” you state not wanting to get into another argument about the heels.

“we’re going to be late” you rushed and you slipped you heels on ans done then up and around you ankle.

“max y/n welcome” Christian welcomed you as you step in to the restaurant, it was only supposed a small party get together, friends and family but Christian had rented out a fancy restaurant.

you greet him, giving him a side hug, you belly slightly getting in the way, “not long to go now eh” he glimpses at your stomach.

“hopefully, can’t wait to meet the little guy” max chuffed, your head spin around to him “sexiest, how do you know it’s a boy?” you joke with him, you wanted it to be a surprise, you wanted a home birth with just you and max and midwife you trusted deeply.

the music was quite loud, you could see Daniel rushing to get to the two of you “there you are” he expressed as he went in for a hug “my favourite verstappen” he said as he presses a kiss to you cheek, “aye” max snapped “what about me” he said.

“close third” Daniel mumbled, to impressed and busy rubbing at your stomach “my favourite is really the little one” he said as he bent up straight again, going over and giving max a brotherly hug.

“let’s get you sat down” max said when you winced at the aching pain in you feet “zei dat je die verdomde dingen moest dragen” he rants to himself as he guides you with an arm around you waist, to you seat at the table, seeing you names on the nicely decorated table.

told you not to wear the fucking things

he softly sat you down on the chair, bending down to undo you heels “mmh you need a haircut” you softly speak as you dive your hand into his hair, he carefully slipped you heel off “I wanna keep them on” you mumble to yourself and max “and I want you to listen to me” he grunted, max always knew what was best for you and what you wanted it.

you hum when he starts to massage you swollen and aching feet, “max no, people are here” you say embarrassed “I don’t care, if people have a problem then fuck them” you smiled as a warmth spread through you.

he slipped them back on “keep them on for a bit while we are sat down” he looks up at you and smiles you give him a peck on the cheek, “I love you”

truth be told, even though you always wanted a baby and experience motherhood you and max didn’t plan it, at time max won his second world championship you both agreed that it wasn’t the right time, but in reality it was the perfect time.

you remember the night it happened as it brings a smile to your face “what you smiling about” you hear maxs rough but soft voice next to you snap yourself out of your memory, you laugh “the game room” those three words out a devilish smirk on your lovers face.

“the night this one happened” you could hear the smirk through this voice as his hand goes from your thigh to your bump.

Y/N pulled away, a string of saliva connecting them as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. max picked her up and held her on his hip, pinching her thigh.

"What did I tell you," dropping her on the small sofa max had put in the room,and crawled on top of her, "about being a brat?" His eyes were wild with anger and lust and love.

you had been teasing him all night while he had been streaming, “neuk me, je bent zo mooi” his dutch coming out of his naturally while his hand goes don’t your thigh and pushing himself down so that he’s between your thighs.

fuck me your so beautiful

groaning when his fingers hovered over the damp material of your underwear, pressing lightly against it as he inspected how wet you were, pressing a kiss to them then removing them roughly.

your hands went flying to his hair for something to pull when when he licked up your folds without warning chewing on you lip to hold the moans, he added his finger teasing your cilt, curling his fingers then max’s mouth covered your clit and you trembled.

“this for me baby?" Y/N nodded, her lips parting, "Tell me who's it for “know you can do it." your back arched, “yours, you max”

“that’s my girl”

“Need you maxie“ that’s all he needed to hear, pushing himself so he can reach you, burying his mouth against your neck as he reaches between you, guiding his thick cock into your heat.

“oh mijn verdomme”he bites down on your shoulder,he mutters a few curses, you once again arch your back running your fingers down his back your nails drawing blood on his back.

oh my fucking

his thrusts became more rough grasping your waist for support he deeply pushes him self into before your both come undone at the same time, his hole body dropping down onto you.

“that was a good night” his smirk growing wider, you lean so your side so that your head lays on his shoulder, your arm wrapped around his, you had finished you meal and was just chatting.

“come and dance with me” he whispered into your ear you looked at max surprised “max babe, I’m eight months pregnant and I waddle when I walk I also struggle to hug you” you said while sniggering.

“shush stop complaining”he got up and pushed his chair out of the way while bending down to undo your heels for the second time this night and leaving them on your seat.

he pulled you up to the little dance floor where the soft music was playing. a couple of familiar faces smile at the two of you, you felt the little squeeze he gave you as he held the way stoping when he pulled you into him your arm immediately going around his waist and your hand slotting into his”can’t wait for our little family” you hear him whisper into your ear,you smile up at him “we love you so much” you speak for yourself and you little one, you can’t wait this is what you dreamed of when you was a little girl.

you give him a look when he slightly stretches his arms out making you do the same, he gives you a twirl and pulls you back into him and his hands land in you hips to pull you up so you give him a kiss.

“it’s been a long night let’s go” he says when you both pull apart, him directing you though the crowd of people to get your stuff and heels, you say your goodbyes to everyone, max puts his jacket over your shoulders, heels in his one hand while you walk out of the restaurant, the first thing you expect to hit you was the chilly air but you was far wrong, the first thing that did hit you was bright flashes, max moves so your behind him, covering you.

when you do finally make it home you sit straight down onto the sofa, you noticed a slight pain in your stomach your hands go straight to your bump.

yell for max who comes rushing down stairs with a pair of his shorts and shirt in his hands “what’s happening” he looks so panicked, “think we’re going to have this baby” as you explain about the contractions “oh my, fuck,shit” he looks around for his phone, he’s now in a comfortable pair of shorts and a black shirt.

he helps you get changed in to your well his comfortable clothes.

your walking around the kitchen while max is on the phone to the midwife, Eva,saying that your contractions are now six minutes long.

you look at him, as he smiles you looks down just as the same time he does to feel a wet feeling down your legs.

max is there though quick to rush down and take his shorts of you and clear the mess that’s on the floor.

“awe okay” you say breathing heavily “it’s hurting a lot more now” leaning on the kitchen side, max comes behind you slightly rubbing and giving you back a relief “she’s on her way, won’t be long angel”

“whooh that one hurts” as you lean back into him, holding the side.

max guides you to the living room and onto the sofa “you ok, you comfortable” you completely ignore him “you look handsome” you softly express “thank you” he laughs and pulls you into a kiss.

the door bells pulls you both apart as max rushes to get the door “see how quick that was”

is little while later, max is behind your on your bed,sheets underneath you with everything that your midwife needs around you.

“oooh I can’t do it” you half cry and half whine as you push, “ don’t talk stupid, your the strongest women I know baby, let’s meet our little one yeah, you need to push” max softly strokes your cheek.

“attagirl, that’s good” the midwife explains.

you push you everything you have, as you grip maxes hand, you groan in pain.

your met with a cry, the relief comes over you,, “she’s perfect” the midwife tells you both.

you look up at max, a little girl.

“oh my god, a little girl, my little girl” max speaks as he kisses the side of your head.

your little girl is placed right on your chest.

“got both of my girls now”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen #smut #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewishamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton #toto wolff x reader #formula one #lewishamilton x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut

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jupitermoontarot24 · 2 months

Text

⭐What's Your Next Glo UP?💜⭐

🤍WELCOME TO YOUR GLO UP ERA 🤍

LOADINGGG.........⭐NOW⭐ Piles 1-5

ENJOY💗

SO EXCITED FOR YOU GUYS!! 1111

Pile 1😈

Hello welcome!

You could be having a lot of good sex in the future. You could be moving or visiting a new place, traveling a lot more. You can be getting a lot of new clothes, clothes of brighter colors, a spring wardrobe or summer wardrobe. Your body could be getting more fit so you need a new wardrobe to show off your new hips, is what I heard but your whole body in general. Teeth getting whiter. Your lips could be getting bigger. Maybe you get filler, plumping or you just find a really good lip combo that enhances your lips or something. Your head hair could be growing out a lot. If you had a bob or cut it could be growing out really fast so you can end up having long hair. I feel like if you do travel it's going to be well accommodated for. I see really nice hotel rooms, robes, places where they leave you slippers, just really nice places. If you're moving to a new place I can see you starting to map out what your bedroom is going to look like, what type of furniture you want. Your eyelashes might grow a lot as well, maybe you start using a new serum or something like that. You could become hairless? You could be entering a long distance relationship and maybe that's why you're traveling so much or you move. Your boobs or pecks might start sitting higher, if you start working out your chest area. Could be getting into yoga, you might just start being more flexible. You could also be getting new makeup products weekly is what I heard for some people but you could be trying out a lot of new products. So based on this you might have a windfall of money, more consistent money coming in or you meet somebody who starts to pay for your lifestyle. Pile one your manifestations are coming in. You could have daydreamed and manifested and scripted a lot of things that maybe you didn't see coming into the 3D but it's only because they were on Divine timing. Now is the time and all of these things might come in at once and it's going to happen fast too! Let go of any fear that you've had because all things you've been thinking about are coming in. Some of you could enter into the same sex relationship. 777

I am so happy for you pile one. You really are very deserving of this! When I tell you all your manifestations are coming in I mean it. The universe is rewarding you for your patience, drive and your good deeds. Yeah you're getting elevated in status, money and body. This could even happen overnight, that's what it feels like. I feel like your next glo up is surrounded by the fact that you believed in yourself, you believed that you were a magical being that could manifest and that's exactly what happened. So now you don't have to live in the means of other people's expectations of you because people have no idea how much power you generate! This is not a love reading but there's about three different people that are coming in for you, I guess that's part of your next glo up. You have three options to choose from, two for some ppl. One could be same-sex, the other two could be the opposite sex whatever resonates. I think two of these people are exes and this king of Wands is new and they're going to pop up out of absolutely nowhere. These are people who've been thinking long and hard about this, could be people you haven't spoken to in months. They want to have a conversation and hash it out. Your next glo up is that you are on everyone's todo list. Three people are coming in asking for some type of commitment.

Jamie Foxx - You Changed Me (Explicit) ft. Chris Brown

Pile 2🤯

Welcome

Your next glow up could be centered around you stepping more into your feminine energy. You could also be manifesting and receiving jewelry. Your hair could also be getting longer and you might be going out a lot more at night. Maybe you get invited on dinner dates often or just out to hang out with friends. I see this happening in the summer. You could end up visiting a place that you've never been before, and staying in a really nice house or you might have been to this place but you haven't seen it like how you will see it this specific time. Maybe you stay in a better place or you have a better view of the city wherever you're at.

Elhae, Masego - My City (Official Video) - YouTube Music

This started playing soon as I said that no lie omggggggg confirmation fr. Yes, somebody might invite you out to hang out with them and they show you a different side of this place that you've never seen before. You also could be getting a tan. You could be getting your eyelashes done professionally as well as your eyebrows. Your makeup skills could be getting a lot better. I see you getting out of the house way more than you were before. I mean you might be in your masculine energy working a lot not being able to take days off but no more of that. You definitely could be meeting someone new. I see you having a lot more time on your hands you might quit your job. I see you being able to wake up and have a cup of tea, do some yoga, hang out with your friends so much more. I also see you might go through a breakup if you're dealing with somebody now you will definitely be done with them by the summertime. Something will get exposed about this person about this situation, you might already know or have a feeling but something is going to happen. Someone might come to you woman to woman if you know what I mean.

But this is good news because it allows you to move forward and meet this next person that you'll be spending time with. I see you sleeping a lot more having relaxing days while somebody else works to provide for you. Yes I am so happy for you pile 2. I see you having good sex, looking cute, dressing cute, drinking smoking,feeling carefree, really living that summer lifestyle. Stress-free, completely being selfish. You definitely have a soulmate coming in. Be careful you could conceive with this person very easily but yeah this is your forever person coming in. They've been manifesting this for a good moment so congratulations pile 2. You could be drawn to pile 4

You are THEE ICON!!

Chxrry22 - Wasteland (Official Music Video)

Pile 3👽

Welcome

You definitely are getting an overall body glow up pile 3. I see your body getting more fit having a pop star body. I also see you having better singing skills, This is a picture of Mariah Carey so she's like one of the best vocalists we have in her prime. You could be dressing more edgier, you could also change your hair color and getting a tattoo. You can be getting recognized a lot more, maybe you start to gain a lot of followers so people recognize you in person. Your hair looks better, I don't know if you are starting to get your hair done professionally but that's what it gives. You also can start getting your makeup done professionally. I see you starting to embody this 90s 2000s aesthetic. More natural but also seductive. Yeah I see you attracting so many people, attracting so many different opportunities. Emphasis on birds so like I said before you're singing voice can get a lot stronger. I see you starting something new. This could be your first chapter in stardom that you're entering for some. You can get recognized for your singing, I just see you brainstorming with your friends about different things so different business endeavors or different opportunities that you can now manifest into your reality instantly. I feel like nothing is out of reach for you anymore. You being famous, you being a star, you being rich these things are not crazy for you anymore they're actually in reach. I see you following your dreams, following your passions in this next glow up. Someone might come in to help you follow these dreams and provide in whatever way that you need. But I just see all these dreams that you have had since you were a child, that maybe you never told anyone about because you thought people would laugh or would think were unattainable they're happening for you! Yeah I see you being everywhere! You're definitely changing your lifestyle. You can go from broke to rich overnight. You definitely have a soulmate coming in to help you fund this, making you into a star. You are this person's Muse and they are not letting you go ever. It's like they make money off of the stuff that they create about you and then they use that money to fund you into being a star as well. Your exs are going to be so sad, so excited for you pile 3!!!! Let me get an autograph plzzz!!

Tyla - Truth or Dare (Official Music Video)

Pile 4🤠

Welcome

Your next glow up could be you moving somewhere else with your family or your family house getting an upgrade. You could be reading a lot more and receiving a lot more information about various different topics. You could be traveling a lot more. You could be doing some solo traveling or traveling with your friends to places that are more serene. You could be trying out a lot more different hairstyles too. You could start dressing more your age is what I heard so take that as it resonates. You could be receiving clothes from people, passed down clothes that are very vintage and upper echelon. You could get a revenge glow up after a break up. I see you hanging out with your family more. Learning about your family history, where you come from, how strong your lineage is. You might also find out about your soul origin and some of your past lives. I see you trying out a lot of different lip looks as well. Yeah I just see you basically becoming more grounded in other things. You could have been in a relationship for a while so you were engulfed in that but I see your next go up you being surrounded by people that you love a lot and discovering who you truly are at your soul's core aka any dropping dead weight. I see your friends coming over more, you going to hang out with them, them supporting you, giving you gifts, hyping you up and making you feel loved. You could've broken up with this person so it's not as sad? I think you may be coming to terms with the fact that you deserve better in every aspect of your life. Everyone is very supportive of you. I think you love this person but you realize that your heart is somewhere else. My right hand started itching during this so confirmation. You could be coming into Union with a twin flame or a soulmate from the past. I'm guessing that you guys learned your lessons. This person has been manifesting this and I see it happening. I see you guys making love and letting your guards down. This energy feels very weightless. Like I said you've been grounded for a minute so it's time to just float away! You could conceive with this person so be careful. That's all spirit is letting me know so good luck pile 4 you deserve it. You could be drawn to pile 2

Chxrry22 - The Falls (Official Music Video)

Pile 5📸

Welcome

Pile 5 your next go up can definitely be a relationship. This feels like true genuine love that you go to sleep dreaming about and wake up thinking about :) This person could be from your city for some people. You can feel like this person is completely different from you and they might appear so but you guys are really meant to be together. This person could give you a glow, you both are glowing after dating. Your hair can get longer. This person's hair can get longer as well. Your dimples could get deeper from smiling so much? lol. You guys could get a tan together maybe you spend a lot of time outdoors or going on vacations. You will definitely be cuffed this summer. This definitely feels like a summer relationship. Long nights outside with this person, long walks, stargazing and talking for hours. You can meet this person this spring and you guys get more serious in the summer. This person could be giving you jewelry. If they play a sport or something they'll have you at their games or competitions whatever resonates. You could have been single for a long time before this. You definitely could be drawn to pile one. I see you getting a completely new wardrobe. You might get rid of almost everything in your closet and start fresh. I see your room getting upgraded, you can get your dream room and I see you traveling a lot.I see you packing a bag almost every weekend to go somewhere or to do something, you'll be flying a lot. You also could be starting something with your friends? A group or organization etc. I think you and your friends are finally energetically on the same level in whatever way that resonates so it's time for you guys to start a project together. You know when all your friends are doing different things in life and sometimes you guys are unaligned because of that but it seems like you and your friends will align perfectly. You could be doing a lot of stuff so moving on planes, trains or boats lol. You can go to different Islands that you have never been before to go on a vacation. This relationship can move really fast! It gives the energy of those posts on ig that are like” I need to meet someone now so we can be on a baecation by Friday. “This person exceeds your expectations. You guys both check off all the boxes for each other. This person could ask for some type of commitment at the end of the summer. So your next glow up is you being in a relationship with someone who is established. Very attractive, gets a lot of attention and people that want them but they only want you. You guys have true love and you're going to have so much fun. This person really adores. You will be Inseparable with this person this summer, you guys could hang out all the time and be attached to hip lol. This is definitely your soulmate so good luck pile five. You have found true love, congratulations!

Jade Novah - Trip (Official Music Video)

Justin Timberlake - Summer Love (Lyrics)

#daily tarot #love #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #soulmates #tarot #tarot reading #twin flame #18+#channeled message #pick a card reading #pick a picture #personal #p

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bitterchocoo · 3 months

Note

Hello!! I hope your doing well! I was reading some of your works then I had some ideas that were just ✨️✨️what if reader was like Layla from Genshin? I think it'll go well with Dr.Ratio, wether reader is an IPC or one of his students is all up to you!

Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to do it! Take care and stay safe!! ^^

Sweet Dreams

Dr. Veritas Ratio | M. Reader as Layla [Genshin Impact]

----------

"Scorching hot days and freezing cold nights... I—I don't think I'm gonna make it..."

----------

Work.

Work, and work.

Work, and work, and work.

Work, and work, and work, and work.

That's all he does.. it's tiring... he couldn't help but sometimes look at the other IPC's employees with envy. His colleagues seems to have a less tiring job than him. Why can't he be as carefree as them? Without feeling so sleep deprive? Don't get him wrong, he enjoys his work, but sometimes it just gets... tiring..

He slumped on his desk, feeling drained by the amount of work there is and the paperwork that's been placed on his desk.

"I bet someone who's good enough to get a job like him never has to worry about whether their projects will get approved or be successful. Wait... Oh shoot, if he's a Doctor, he probably doesn't have to do any projects in the first place. So lucky..." The man sighs as he thought of the other, he looks so carefree, so relax, and--SMACK! "AH!" His hands shot up to the back of his head, the sudden pain brought him back to reality. "Stop daydreaming [Name]."

Fixing his position, he sits properly on his seat as he look at the direction of the voice and saw none other than Dr. Veritas Ratio himself, the man he was thinking about. "But do you really have to hit my head with your book..?"

"How could I get it through your thick skull if I don't?"

The other groans in response knowing there's no way to talk his way out of this. Not with Dr. Veritas Ratio.

----------

Penacony.. the land of dreams..

Yeah, he would fit right in.

The dreamscape is just so.. beautiful.. it's nothing like the real world. Unlike in the real world, [Name] doesn't need to worry about his projects so much. That amount of stress is horrible for one's mind.

If he could, he'll stay there.

To sleep for as long as he wants, to experience new things in a.. "different way..", to be able to live as free as a bird.

But alas...

Some dreams just don't come true and he was brought back to reality by his colleagues. Their mission. Their objective for accepting Penacony's invite.

"Wake up, [Name]."

"Hmm.."

"Honestly...."

Opening his eyes, he was met by the Doctor himself. "Oh so you're finally awake, I've been trying to wake you up for almost half a system hour."

"Hmm.. ten minutes.."

"NO!"

He groans, grudgingly sits up from his lying position, how he wishes he could stay asleep.. this is Penacony after all.. so why can't he sleep? Of course work has to be the one being prioritized... "Please Ratio.." "No."

With a defeated sigh [Name] leans forward and gives the other a peck on the lips. "Ten minutes." and with that, he falls back onto the bed and went back to sleep. Leaving a flustered Doctor.

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x male reader #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #genshin #genshin layla #dr veritas ratio #veritas ratio #genshin impact

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notjustjavierpena · 2 months

Note

you have returned! hope you’re doing ok! i miss husband!javi like i’m missing a limb!

this got me thinking about a request - husband!javi having to go away for a work trip for a few days - comes back and like cute family time. once the kids are in bed he just goes crazy about reader, she’s tired but she handled the kids no problem and is kind of like no big deal about it. and he’s just feral at that. she’s such a good mum and he’s so turned on and he missed her and just ugh smut

Return

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is a request from the 17th of October 2023. Anon, I hope you are still with us. I loved writing this for you, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to proofreading as always @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !! thank you for hyping me @theywhowriteandknowthings and @pinkypromisepascal 💖❤️

Summary: Javier returns from a business trip after being apart from his family for three whole days.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, domesticity, a happy family, javi having a baby in his arms and spending alone-time with his kids needs its own tag, i love yous, pregnancy, playful and teasing hubby, touch-starved, banter, dirty talk, finger-fucking, talk about female masturbation, pussy eating, loud reader, piv sex, riding, nipple sucking, lactation kink, javi gets off on you being the mother of his children, multiple orgasms, creampie, intense sex, bliss, pillow talk

Word count: 8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54409297

Return

The sound of the door has you sprinting towards it. You throw your arms around Javier’s neck before he even manages to put down his bag, causing him to drop it and make a noise of concern in case its contents may end up spilling out on the floor. If you have to be completely honest, you don’t give a damn right now because you haven’t felt his embrace for nearly three whole days.

“Hola, baby,” he says with a voice that tells you that he is smiling. He holds you close to himself, one hand reaching around your waist and the other one settling on the back of your head. He presses your body into his own, and you try to keep yourself from making a noise that reminds you of a schoolgirl.

Javier has been on a work trip out of state. It happens from time to time that some department of the state gets the not-so-incredible idea of hiring him as a motivational speaker to make their conferences look more interesting than they actually are. Javier hates it but the money is good and his boss always ends up encouraging him in a way that mostly sounds like he has no choice.

You hate it too. The act of sleeping in your bed alone, not feeling his body heat, and not being able to simply reach out for him if you need him, is torturous. Combined with taking care of three children alone, you find yourself slowly becoming a less-than-ideal version of yourself. It’s a stressfully romantic reminder that you can barely function without him.

“Hi,” you grin widely as you pull back to receive a kiss. You splay your palms on his chest, scratching slightly as he pecks your lips repeatedly for a moment. Your whole body feels like it is made up of butterflies fluttering around each other in a romantic dance.

“Thank God that’s over,” he reaches for the suitcase when you finally allow him to step out of your arms. He walks into the kitchen, “They were talking through my whole fucking presentation, and the meetings afterward… I was just daydreaming about coming home to you and the kids the whole time.”

“That bad?” You follow him around like a puppy. If you didn’t know that he would do the same thing had it been you arriving home, you would find yourself slightly pathetic for being such a fool for him.

“I should’ve said no this time,” he says as if it had ever been an option. You nod as he continues, “I do it every year and I feel like an idiot each time.”

“We need the money,” you argue, finally moving away from your husband to go to the living room where Sebastian is lying on a blanket. He squeals in delight at seeing you, and you pick him up with a coo.

“We don’t need the money, we’ve got enough money,” Javier says from the kitchen.

“Come say hi to your son,” you change the subject and hear Javier’s steps come closer.

“Oh, there he is,” Javier says and his voice switches to baby talk as you hand Sebastian to him. He settles him on his hip, bouncing slightly where he stands, “Te he extrañado tanto, mijo (I have missed you so much, my son).”

Sebastian gurgles happily up at his father. His eyes are full of recognition at the sound of the familiar voice. You swear that you can see a little bit of the exhaustion in Javier’s eyes disappear.

“He’s been really patient with his mom these past couple of days,” you say with a chuckle, “No fussing during naps or nothing. Almost like he knew I needed the extra sympathy.”

“Bet your momma handled everything way better than I could, huh? What do you think?” Javier shifts Sebastian to sit on his arm instead so he can blow a raspberry on his face. He smiles softly at you afterward, turning his head towards you so that he and his son are cheek to cheek, “Is that wrong to assume?”

“I still think you’re better with them than me,” you say simply.

He tuts, “Bullshit.”

Sebastian makes another happy noise at hearing both of his favorite voices. He swings his tiny fists, and Javier grabs one of his hands, “If this one wasn’t so fixated on playing peek-a-boo, he’d agree. Suppose we all have our vices.”

You move past him with a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face. You go to check the food on the stove, and from behind you, Javier sniffs the air. He walks to join you by the counter, “What are you making?”

“Tu favorito (your favorite),” you smile at Sebastian instead of looking at him, leaning in to bump your nose with his tiny one. Sebastian grabs at your face.

“No te merezco, mi amor (I don’t deserve you, my love).”

“We eat in twenty minutes,” you inform after lovingly shaking your head at him. He leans in to kiss you again and you know immediately that this is just one of many kisses you will get tonight.

“Where are the rascals?” He asks.

“In the garden,” you reply and open your arms, “Give him here and go say hi. Inés has been going on about you all day, so please save me from hearing more about her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

Carefully, Javier hands over Sebastian, “I thought you liked her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

“I think I might actually love him,” you grin and try not to feel silly at your sappiness because you do actually love him so much that it is stupid. Sebastian clings to you as soon as he smells you, resting his head on your shoulder and bunching his fists in your shirt.

Javier kisses you once more before heading to the door to the garden. You hear him leave it open, and watch him go outside and step off the porch with a hello.

“Hey there, gremlins!” He shouts. Inés and Lucas, both engrossed in their own activities, look up at the same time. Their faces light up at the sight of their father, but Inés is the one who makes a noise so loud that you can hear it in the kitchen as if she’s speaking right next to you.

Both of them come charging whilst shouting for him. you smile fondly at the sight of them colliding with their father who lets himself be knocked backward into the grass with a happy laugh. He wraps his arms around them and squeezes them tightly, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”

They both look up at his face, speaking enthusiastically at the same time until he can barely tell what is going on. Their stories of the events of the last three days weave together until it is nonsense, and they don’t seem to notice that he cannot follow along with what they are saying. He ruffles their hair and sits up with them still cradled in the crooks of his arms, “Wow wow wow, uno a la vez (one at a time).”

“I made a tower of blocks that was taller than me!” Inés says proudly and Lucas seems to let her have the spotlight for a moment. He knows that she’ll get distracted and run away soon anyway, giving him his own chance at talking to his father. Inés talks loudly, “Mommy took a picture. She said that you needed the evi— evin— uhh… evindance.”

“Evidence,” Lucas corrects her with a superior smirk.

“That’s what I said,” she huffs.

“Nuh-uh,” her brother protests and ducks out from underneath his father’s arm.

“Ya-huh!” Inés removes herself from the embrace too.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Javier chuckles, “I’ll have to ask mamá for your picture. It sounds really cool.”

“Can we build one together?” She asks with a hopeful voice, “Pleeease.”

“Let’s save it for after dinner, mija (my daughter), okay?” He suggests, “And then I’ll build a tower that’s double the size of you before you gotta sleep.”

“Really? When?” Inés reveals that she still has no real concept of time.

“After dinner, baby,” he says again, winking at Lucas who grins, “Go ask Mommy when we’re eating.”

She is up in no time, running towards you in the kitchen. It leaves Lucas the perfect opportunity to have his moment. He gets up from the ground, his jeans covered in green patches, and starts walking towards the swing set that Javier built a few years ago.

“Dad, you need to see what I’ve learned!” He says.

“Alright, let’s see,” Javier pushes himself to stand with a groan and follows, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his son get onto the seat of the swing. By clutching the chains tightly, Lucas pulls himself to carefully stand up on the swing seat.

Javier finds himself about to protest, instinctively holding out a hand to be ready for a potential fall. However, Lucas seems to have everything under control as he holds the chains tightly with both hands. He speaks as he starts swaying back and forth, looking hopeful for approval from who he knows to be the bravest man in his world, “I practiced all day yesterday!”

“Eres increíble (you’re incredible)!” Javier cheers but then smiles smugly, “Does mom know you’re doing that?”

“She told me not to,” he admits shyly.

“Well, I haven’t seen anything,” Javier winks.

“Thanks, Dad,” it sounds genuine, happy to keep a secret. Lucas lights up, “Wanna see me jump?”

“Even your old dad has limits,” Javier laughs with a shake of his head, “Get down from there. No jumping.”

“Fine,” his son grumbles.

When he is on the ground, you pop your head out of the door to call them inside, “Dinner time, chicos (guys). Lucas, come in here and wash your hands.”

You smile as they approach, and when Lucas has walked past you, you stop Javier in the doorway and curl your fingers around his tie, “You better wash them too, Peña.”

—

The sun hangs low on the horizon when dinner ends. You start gathering the plates and glasses, and Lucas joins in without hesitation which gives Javier a glimpse of what happens when he isn’t home to take care of you. Maybe his son can sense your exhaustion too. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach but decides to make up for it by getting his daughter ready for bed.

“Come on, mija (my daughter),” he says, picking Inés up from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder to make her laugh, “Pajamas first and then building blocks.”

He carries her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her into her pajamas, braids her hair the way she likes it, and then gets her toothbrush. She spends the whole time babbling about how she’ll grow taller like her mother and thus they’ll have to build a higher tower each day.

“Open up,” he says, sitting on the lid of the toilet with her standing between his legs. He holds her toothbrush in front of her mouth.

“Do you think I’ll be taller than you someday?” She asks with her childlike eyes, and Javier has to tap her chin to make her remember to open her lips.

“No, because I’ll just wear very big shoes, even if my head bumps against the ceiling,” he tells her with a grin, “C’mon, teeth brushing time.”

Inés grimaces but follows through and he has to shush her several times because she wants to keep talking.She even sports impatience on her face as her father wipes down her mouth with a damp flannel to rid it of leftover toothpaste. She looks ready to bolt out of the door, fidgeting slightly on the spot, “You promised we could build a tower before bed.”

“And we can,” he reassures, turning the flannel over to wipe the tip of her nose playfully. She crinkles it and reaches up to rub it afterward when he moves to hang it on the laundry basket, “But we’re getting ready for bed first. Hair okay?”

She nods, not entirely convinced that she gets to stay up longer after having brushed her teeth but when Javier has put her toothbrush back in its place in the medicine cabinet, she beams as he allows her to run off to her room. He follows behind, arms stretched out in front of himself, “I’m coming to get you, mija (my daughter)!”

“Nooo!” She squeals in delight, trying to barricade the door with her tiny body but he is too fast and manages to reach her before she can even close it. He picks her up by her middle and holds her upside down, shaking her gently while she laughs and laughs.

“Mi monita (my little monkey),” he laughs too.

They spend half an hour as the architects of a tall and colorful skyscraper, Inés too impatient to see the tower reach her own height to care much for aesthetics. Javier tries suggesting a storyline of a castle but his daughter shakes her head.

“Stop, Daddy,” she commands and he holds up his hands in surrender.

“So no princesses live here?” He questions, “Not even a dragon? Or maybe a—”

“No,” she deadpans, steadfast just like Javier’s father has told him he was. He smiles when she isn’t looking, not about to get scolded by a 4-year-old for not taking their playtime seriously. He enjoys the little moments he has like these, seeing the way his daughter imitates his own behavior in a way that would make your teasing never-ending if you saw it. At that moment, he despises himself and his job because he has to leave sometimes and thus misses out on things. He should have been here when Inés built a tower as tall as herself by herself, not see it in a photograph later.

Eventually, the construction gets too tall for her to build it even taller. Javier is put to work immediately after she realizes this, and she oversees his work with important nods and looks of assessment.

“Look, Daddy!” She exclaims with each building block that Javier places on top of another. She stands beside the tower because she needs to compare her height to it, and Javier has to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she gets close to making it tumble down, “Do you think it will reach the ceiling?”

“One day I’m sure it’ll reach the moon,” he replies as if it is a fact, “I for sure am tall enough.”

“No, you’re not,” she furrows her brow, thinking, “But we will just have to get a very big ladder.”

Finally, Javier has built a tower double her size. It stands wobbly on the floor. He nods towards it, “There you go, mi amor (my love), do you want to put the last block on top? The triangular one?”

She nods and he notices the telltale signs of Inés’ tiredness because her eyes have started drooping. She rubs them with a little sigh, and then holds out her arms so he can pick her up and place her on his hip.

She places the block carefully on top after Javier hands it to her. It is like all energy reserves have been used up from one moment to another. However, he doesn’t want to risk the unsteady tower falling over in the middle of the night, so he whispers in his most mischievous voice, “Do you want to knock it down?”

“Can I?” She widens her eyes.

“Sí, pero no se lo digas a tu mamá (yes, but don’t tell your mom),” he confirms, “Perhaps a big angry monkey swung from it whilst roaring like this!”

He imitates King Kong the best he can and is thankful she has no clue what it is, and she repeats after him only to push on the stacked blocks until they tumble to the floor. He kicks the remaining pieces with his foot, and she roars again. They laugh together until she yawns.

“Alright, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” he announces then, and she doesn’t protest. He shifts her slightly in his arms so she can wrap herself around him with both her arms and legs, burying her face in his shoulder. It’s clear that she has missed him. He rubs her back with both hands before holding her in place, moving towards the bed in the corner of her room.

Gently, he lays her down and crouches down beside her afterward. He pulls the covers up over her head on purpose and earns a giggle, “Oh no, where did Inés go?”

“You’re silly, Papá,” she says.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells her after tucking her in properly this time, “You are so tired. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for playing with me,” Inés says with a yawn, turning on her side to look at him better. She softens a little as her eyes start to flutter closed, her father’s hand running over her head. Another yawn comes, “Te quiero, Papá. No me gusta cuando te vas y no me gusta extrañarte (I love you, Dad. I don’t like it when you leave and I don’t like missing you).”

Javier sucks in a breath. He rubs the spot between her eyebrows, trying to keep his composure, “Lo sé, mi vida (I know, my life). I love you too. Sleep well, okay?”

“Okay,” she slurs, and then her breathing slows. He tucks her in one last time, leaning in to kiss her hair softly before stretching carefully to his full height. He makes sure to turn on her night light before turning off the overhead lights, closing the door ever so gently afterward.

He lets out a deep breath right outside her room and smooths two fingers over his mustache. He hasn’t told you about this yet but he is considering quitting his job, has been considering it very seriously since Christmas when he promised to cut down on work significantly to be home a lot more with you and the kids. That and the fact that you are carrying his fourth child, and leaving you home alone with all four in the future just seems cruel.

However, it’s a comment like the one he has just received from his only daughter that sets it in stone. His search for other jobs is not a mere idea any longer but rather a necessity if he wants to continue being happy with his family.

He has to tell you and he is dying to already, but first, he wants to unpack and then tuck Lucas in too. He has three days of goodnights to catch up on.

—

He enters Lucas’ room half an hour later to the familiar sound of his son’s Game Boy, its rhythmic beeps and pings accompanied by the frantic tapping on its buttons. Lucas is sitting cross-legged in his bed, already wearing his pajamas and with his face illuminated by the screen of his console.

“Hey Dad, can you knock? I’m losing my concentration,” his son says without looking up from the screen, already sounding so grown up that Javier has to tighten his grip around the doorknob. Where did the time go?

“Ay, Lucas,” he tuts and crosses the room to stand by the bed, “Soy tu padre (I’m your father).”

“I just really don’t want to lose,” he explains and starts tapping away on the buttons again, his stare still fixed on the little jumping character. Javier waits for a moment, following his game by looking over his shoulder.

When enough time has passed and Lucas seems to relax a bit more, he interrupts again, “Alright, time for bed, muchacho (young man).”

“One more game!” Lucas finally looks up with pleading eyes. The boy sports the same puppy-look in them that you have said Javier does himself, and it was only when he looked into Lucas’ pleading face the first time that he realized what you meant. The look is damn near impossible to say no to.

“Fine, but I’m taking it afterward unless you promise me not to play all night,” he says firmly, “Even Mario has to sleep at some point.”

“I will!” He reassures quickly, “Only five minutes more, I promise.”

“But I want to talk to you about something first,” he holds out his hand for the gaming console, “Dámelo (Give it to me). It’s important you listen.”

“Am I in trouble?” Lucas reluctantly hands his most precious belonging to his father who places it on the nightstand.

“What? No, mijo (my son),” Javier gets Lucas under the covers, tucks him in, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “How would you like it if I got to spend more time at home with you all?”

“What do you mean?” Lucas tilts his head in confusion.

“Can you keep a secret from Mom?” He asks with a gentle smile. Lucas nods. He continues, “I’m quitting my job soon.”

“Really?!” Lucas exclaims with pure shock on his face.

“Shh, your sister and your brother are asleep down the hall,” he shushes, holding a finger in front of his mouth.

“Really?” He whispers instead.

“Absolutely, really,” Javier whispers back and Lucas’ eyes sparkle with excitement. He sits up in bed, pushing the covers aside to crawl into his father’s arms. Maybe he isn’t so grown up after all. Javier hugs him back and kisses his hair, “I’ve been thinking that spending more time with you, your brother and your sister is what I’ve been missing. I don’t like leaving you here to be the big boy of the house when I’m not here.”

He continues when Lucas tightens his arms around him. He muses, “And even if I’ll still have a job, there’ll be more time for game nights and football in the garden. Would you like that?”

Lucas nods into his shoulder. Javier chuckles softly, "But remember, es nuestro secreto (it’s our secret) until I talk to Mom about it. We want to make sure she's on board with the plan, yeah?”

Lucas pulls back and nods eagerly, looking like he is already daydreaming of the extra time he'll get to spend with his father. However, there’s a tinge of anxiety in his excitement, and his voice is an unsure whisper when he speaks his concern, "Dad, what if Mom doesn't like the idea? What if she gets upset?"

“She understands how important our family time is. Trust me, te prometo (I promise) everything will be okay," he says with a reassuring smile.

“But what will your new job be?” Lucas continues, “Will it be something cool?”

“I think I might start teaching people how to catch bad guys like I used to do,” he shrugs.

Lucas grimaces, “You’re gonna be a teacher?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he laughs, “Bedtime.”

“You said one more game!” He protests.

Javier gets up to grab the Game Boy off the nightstand. He holds it out for his son and yanks it away when he tries to take it, “One.”

“I promise,” he says and takes it when he is allowed.

“And your father is actually very cool,” Javier moves to turn off the lights. He can already hear the theme tune of Lucas’ game, “Buenas noches (goodnight).”

“Buenas noches, papá, te quiero,” Lucas beams in the few seconds he looks up.

“Y yo a tí, mijo (I love you too, my son),” he says and flicks the switch.

“They’re asleep,” Javier says as he enters the kitchen a few minutes later. He finds you leaning against the counter with a glass of alcohol-free red wine in your hand. The bottle stands on the counter behind you, its contents half-emptied as if it's been your only way of treating yourself in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed. You look tired from having been alone with all three of them - one of them still an infant - for three days and with a secret baby in your belly to top it off.

Chucho had offered to help you out but you had politely declined so as to not ask for too much of your father-in-law, not be too much of an inconvenience when he has so much to do at the ranch with getting ready for the Spring.

“I’m about to be too,” you say after a sip of your glass.

“When I’ve finally gotten you to myself?” Javier tuts and steps closer to you, stopping when he is right in front of you. He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter next to the wine bottle and then he takes the glass off your hand, setting it aside as well.

His hands find your sides afterward, cupping your waist for a moment before they slide around your body so he can pull you in for a long and desperate kiss. You rest your arms on his shoulders, cradling his head as he moves his mouth with yours. It is nothing but pure ecstasy to feel him like this again, so much that you forget to breathe and have to pull away too soon.

You know he is the same when he sucks a breath in at the same time as you. However, instead of kissing you again, he lets you catch your breath and hugs you close to his chest. His body feels warm, an instant smile forming on your face as he squeezes you.

“Hi,” you say, sounding drunk despite the wine having no alcohol. His arms are a harbor, the very definition of the end of unhappiness. They’re strong and enough to make your head swim, holding you with the promise of never being apart except for physically.

You feel his breath against your ear, “Hey, mamá.”

“I’m so glad you’re home with me again,” you close your eyes as you inhale through your nose, letting the scent of him flood your system.

Javier pulls back and stares at you for a moment. He smirks, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes. Then he lets go of you to reach up and teasingly pull down your top to look down into it.

“Ay, Javi,” you scold with a roll of your eyes.

“What?” He acts oblivious.

“You’re acting insane, and I’m trying to be genuine.”

“I haven’t seen you in three days, mi amor (my love), you can’t blame me,” he protests your accusation, “Besides, this is me being very genuine.”

“Missed you too,” you sigh.

“And I’ve missed you, Jesus,” he wraps his arms around your waist again, pulls you closer to his body, and uses every opportunity to kiss you after each sentence, “Missed these tits. Missed your gorgeous pussy. You gotta let me have it tonight, mamácita.”

“Take me upstairs then,” you lean your head back when he presses his lips to your throat, “We’re not doing it in the kitchen. Against popular belief.”

Javier snorts, “But we always—“

“I said against popular belief, baby,” you stress.

“Fine, c’mere then,” his arms slide down over your hips, and when they reach your knees, he scoops you up with his strong arms and lifts you over his shoulder. You answer with a yelp that turns into a panicked laugh but he simply smacks your ass and starts walking. In the middle of the chaos, you manage to reach for the baby monitor on the counter.

“You are incorrigible,” you say with a dramatic sigh.

“Yes, wife, yes, wife good, I like wife,” he replies in his best caveman accent and you snicker all the way up the stairs, legs dangling over his shoulder and ready to scold him each time he gropes your ass.

When he throws you down on the bed, you are having a full-on laughing fit and the bubbling in your chest feels so good. Even better, when he looms over you by the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, only to crawl on top of you. He kisses your wine-stained lips, scooping you up into his arms and you return his embrace after throwing the baby monitor on the bed.

“I love your laugh,” he says softly when he needs a breath, bumping your noses together.

“You just kidnapped me from the kitchen, that’s no laughing matter,” you tease. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck while you talk.

“Then why are you giggling like a schoolgirl?” He places a hand on your belly that still keeps a secret between the two of you. No one knows yet.

There is concentration on his face when his hand moves up under your top, smoothing the fabric up until you stretch your arms above your head to help him rid it off of your body.

“Hmm,” you think out loud, “Maybe because I have this terrible schoolgirl crush on you.”

“Really? I thought marriage was just a matter of convenience,” he chuckles and kisses your neck again. You lay your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over the broadness of his bare skin that’s been missing underneath your fingertips and pushing him down towards your chest.

“This is pretty good too, most convenient,” you note with a grin as he follows your silent order, moving his mouth south on you until he plants kisses between your breasts. You reach underneath your back to undo your bra, and he peels it off of you and sighs with satisfaction as soon as he has your upper body naked.

“Look at you,” he groans, throwing the bra to the side and diving back into you. He kisses the swell of your right breast, “You make me so fucking horny.”

You throw your head back as he lets the flat of his tongue trail wetly from one breast to the other. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and earns his first moan, to which he presses his clothed crotch into your thigh to show you how hard he is already.

“I’ve been wet since I saw you at the door,” you admit, “Been thinking of your cock inside of me each night. So fucking lonely without you.”

“You should have called me,” he mutters, mouth going further down on your body until he reaches the hem of your jeans. He undoes the button and zipper, yanking them over your hips and pulling them off your legs.

“I was too busy screwing myself,” you tell him and he immediately finds your eyes. That clearly hit a spot, “You like that, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” he struggles a little with the jeans as they sit around your ankles, but the desperation has him yanking them off with enough enthusiasm to pull you along.

“If you weren’t trying to drag me onto the floor— oh, shit.”

Javier has dragged your underwear along with the jeans, and he is now sinking two fingers deep inside of your dripping cunt and pressing them upwards. It’s what you get for being snarky, you suppose, staring down at him as he fucks you open on his digits.

“Your mouth— ah, put your mouth on me,” you try to command.

“Quiet down, baby. I literally just put the kids to bed. You want them running in here?” He shushes you with an amused grin, adding a third finger to your squelching cunt to make you groan, “While I’m wearing you like a puppet?”

You rock against his hand with a chuckle that develops into a moan, “Imagine the conversation that’ll start.”

“I’d rather have a conversation about how filthy you’ve been while I was away,” he speeds up his fingers to make you cry out against your hand but he doesn’t make you come, changing his mind halfway there to follow through on your request, “No, actually I’ll have you monologue about it because I’m going to eat your pussy as you do it.”

You tremble as he takes your clit in his mouth, easing his tongue over the hard nub over and over again whilst timing it with the strokes of his fingers. You feel so full of his digits, and it takes you a moment to trust yourself not to cry at the ceiling the second you remove your hand from your mouth.

“Took a long shower the day before yesterday, after the kids had gone to school and Seb was napping,” you begin with shaking breaths. You need to start the sentence three times before you can make your words make sense, “Used the faucet on the bathtub and came so goddamn hard. You should’ve seen me with my legs up against the wall.”

Below you, Javier hums in approval and it vibrates through your throbbing pussy. You continue.

“I imagined you going down on me with your warm tongue, circling my clit— yes, just like that,” just talking about it makes you gush from how horny it makes you, wetness dripping past Javier’s lips and into his mouth. He groans against you and mouths at your pulsing clit. You find yourself much closer from how well your body remembers the orgasm you had in the shower; the warm water pounding rhythmically against your clit, your toes curling, and— and.

You grind into his mouth and fuck yourself on his fingers as you come, the hot and heavy feeling of an orgasm crashing over you and intensifying as it peaks. You have to bite your lip to keep from screaming, still not managing to keep the high-pitched ah! from reverberating through the room. Javier’s fingers feel so much bigger inside of you as your cunt strangles them, and when you look down at him, you see that he is crashing his hips against the bed to feel just a bit of relief.

You have lost all restraint in your noises as you feel the pleasure ebb out, leaving you a whimpering and panting mess on the bed that wants it all. Somehow you are deeply satisfied at the same time as knowing that this is not enough; you need all of him, and you need him inside of your cunt until you can barely move from the spot. The fact that your body still works when he pulls his fingers from you is an indication of not having had enough.

“Need to fuck you,” he says from below you, crawling on top of you. He has left a damp spot on the sheets from where his cock has dragged against them, and he looks like he is in pain at this point if he doesn’t get to feel you around him, “Now, mi amor (my love).”

“No,” you stop him as he tries spreading your legs with a gentle yet hurried hand.

“No?” His brows furrow, a protest on the tip of his tongue.

“Let me ride you,” you beg, already pushing on his shoulders and feeling how he is giving in in an instant, “Please, I want you so deep in me.”

“Yes, yeah, okay,” he breathes, moving to lie on his back with a pillow under his head. You shake as you lift yourself to straddle him, holding out your arms in front of yourself to signal that you want him to be close to you. He reads you without you saying anything and sits up in your bed so you can be chest to chest.

You reach beneath yourself to take hold of the base of his cock, holding him in place so you can sink down on his shaft until he is buried inside of you to the hilt. You are dripping wet. The motion of engulfing him in your heat is smooth and effortless, and the moans the both of you let out are closer to whines because you are so starved.

“It’s so good, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles quietly in your ear, nosing along the spot behind it. You arch into him, nodding without any words coming to your mind. Instead, you let out a soft gasp as he fucks up into you.

Nothing describes being this close to him after not even being able to kiss him for three days. Other couples would shake their heads if they knew how desperate you get from merely three days apart. You only feel sorry for them. They don’t get how your days are spent with taking every opportunity to lay eyes on each other, breathe and taste each other or even just being able to put a hand on each other’s shoulder, hip, the small of the back.

“Let me,” you pant as he moves underneath you, sending you into a state where you need to concentrate if you want to get out a proper sentence, “I want to fuck this cock. Please, let me.”

Javier stills his hips underneath you. He seems to be holding his breath as he watches you place your hands on his shoulders and then feel them slide behind his head to tilt his head backward. He looks up at you as you start moving on him, rocking in his lap so he barely pulls out of you.

“Come on, that’s a good girl,” he says when he finally sucks in a breath, eyes gazing up at you with a pussydrunk look in them. When they glaze over like this, you know his words will be ravenous and never-ending, “Fuck, baby. That’s it. There you go. Let me touch you so deep inside.”

It doesn’t take long for him to be distracted by your moving chest as you sensually drag your hips over his thick cock. He did tell you that he had missed your breasts but that had been in a slightly playful manner; you never thought that you would actually start to feel beautiful under his hungry eyes. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you because he always knows how to make you feel desirable.

“Attagirl,” he groans, holding your hip tightly with his right hand to help you keep your balance, “God, look at those pretty tits.”

You arch your back as he puts his other hand on your left breast, bending his head down to mouth along the swell until he reaches your nipple. He swirls his tongue once but it is too hard to keep going when you move more frantically on top of him to pleasure yourself, so instead, he wraps his whole mouth around the hardened, spit-slicked peak and sucks until your cunt clamps down in surprise of how good it feels.

“Fuck,” you pant, closing your eyes. The noises of him sucking on your breasts fill your ears and along with how it is making your belly swirl, it makes you impossibly wetter, coating his dick in a milky-white ring. A lewd thought enters your mind. Perhaps, he keeps knocking you up because of this; your cup size has remained the same for a while because you’ve been breastfeeding for months now, and with another baby on its way, you know that the months will keep adding up in the near future.

A drop slips into his mouth and spurs him on to give you a thorough taste. Your brows pull together as a more high-pitched moan leaves your open mouth and he pulls back to shush you gently. Then he sucks greedily again.

You had once asked him why he loved this, and he had replied that the very fact that you were producing milk so sweet to nurture his child went straight to his dick.

“Javi,” you whine to tell him just how you feel. He removes his mouth from your sensitive chest to talk, albeit reluctantly. However, when he notices the change in your sounds and your pitch, he doesn’t want to look away from your face again until he has seen you lose it.

“Oh, you wanna come, huh? Then fuck me,” he says with milk-stained lips. You move desperately in his lap as he spurs you on, feeling the head of his cock dragging back and forth inside of you, laying against your g-spot perfectly if you tilt your hips just a bit. Javier’s eyes burn as they stare up at you but he cannot help himself from occasionally glancing down at your bouncing tits. Your need to come grows, and when you press down slightly harder, you see stars behind your eyelids. A second orgasm tears through you, and one of the hands that has gripped your hip hard enough to bruise comes up to cover your mouth because you start screaming. It’s so intense to have missed him so much.

“There she is,” he growls lowly, watching your face contort with pleasure until tears slide down your face and underneath his palm that’s tightly secured over your whining mouth, “That’s my good girl. You know how to come on this fucking cock, fuck, you feel so good, mi vida (my life), choking my dick. Keep going— no no, don’t stop, ride through it, baby.”

You force yourself to continue moving and keep crying into his hand, wet from drool and tears by now. The oversensitivity is mind-numbing, toe-curling, and somehow still not enough.

“Almost made me come, mi chica sucía y desesperada (my dirty, eager girl),” he says through a breathless chuckle but then raises his brows as your pitch starts climbing once again. You have successfully bypassed your body and started building up another high, “You’re gonna come again? Díos mio (my God), my beautiful wife is insatiable.”

Any chance of talking back at him is lost because you would wake up the whole neighborhood if he dared remove his hand from your mouth. To put his filthy mouth in its place, you start bouncing in his lap to the point where his naked thighs crash harshly into your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin is dirty but Javier’s desperate groans are obscene. He can barely talk now without his voice wavering, and with the way he repeats himself, you know he is doing everything in his power to let you come one more time before he bursts, “Use my cock, yes like that. K-keep going— you’re gonna make me come. Oh fuck.”

When he notices that you are trying to say something, he removes his hand and allows you a single sentence before clamping the hand down over your mouth again.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you whimper with exhaustion, thighs having started to tremble with the effort you are putting into bouncing in his lap. They hurt at this point, straining despite how much you also use your arms to steer yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Go until you can’t fucking do it anymore and I’ll take over, yeah?” He nods at you when you make a mhm-noise into his hand, eyes encouraging and his breaths less composed.

When you come a second time on his dick, you falter immediately. The sensation of the pleasure that has built up so fast again crashes down and takes you with it in its fall. You are silent when it’s teetering on the edge, and then it makes your voice crack when you feel the first tug behind your throbbing clit.

There is only the feeling of your convulsing cunt making you believe in a higher power - in this case, Javier fucking Peña - and then said higher power wrapping his arm around your sticky back to lift you up and down. He snaps his hips upwards to use your body for his own pleasure, and after a series of frantic movements, he comes with a groan. The feeling of his warm spill inside of you has you whimpering, and you try your best to rock your hips the best your exhausted body can. If it weren’t for all the dopamine in your system, you are sure it would hurt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes. Oh, baby, fuck the come out of me, yes, that’s it,” he chants underneath you as he fills you up, moving to meet you halfway until he also has no more to give. When he stills, he grabs your face to smash your lips together in a messy, desperate kiss that is more teeth than anything else. It feels impossible to get close enough to him, even if your chests stick together from sweat.

A moment later, you fall down onto his chest with a chuckle, head swimming from what you have just done. Your arms lie on either side of his head, and your cheek is pressed into his hair. You can feel his nose dig into your shoulder, inhaling you and your post-sex scent, and his arms tighten around your waist as he hugs you close.

“That was fantastic,” you groan with him still inside of you. He gives you one more thrust, pressing his hips upwards, and you half-moan in oversensitivity and half-laugh in surprise, “Stop it, Peña.”

He laughs breathlessly, placing a kiss on your bare skin. Then he slips out of you with a grunt, and you feel his come drip from you already, down onto his cock and thighs. He rubs your sides with his broad hands, “I have missed you as well, you know.”

“I don’t ever want you to go again,” you demand sillily.

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time.”

There’s a pause between the two of you. It lasts several minutes where you just lie on top of his chest. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. Javier says nothing yet you know him well enough to know that he is considering his words.

“I was thinking of something,” he finally says.

You sit up at that, “What?”

“You know how I said something about work during Christmas? That I wanted to be more home with you and the kids, that it would make me happier?” He begins, looking up at you and not hesitating in his eye contact with you.

You suddenly pay a lot more attention, “Yeah?”

“I was thinking that since I will have a bunch of kids to carry around a lot more years from now, I can’t be running around in the force anymore. My back is fucking killing me, and I also want to make love to my wife on the regular,” he tells you and you know instantly that it’s serious even if he says it with a chuckle, “I was thinking of teaching at the local college. They have a criminology course, and with my time in school with my head in the books - I mean, my bachelor’s degree - it shouldn’t be a problem to get a job there.”

“Are you serious?” You gape at him.

“Yes, of course, I am,” he furrows his brow slightly. Only now, he looks unsure but still keeps talking, “It would mean nothing of this sort either; me going away.”

“Babe, that’s amazing,” you fall down into him again, causing an umph-noise from your husband, and then you crash your lips into his. You kiss him as if your life depended on it, sliding your fingers through his dark hair and tugging slightly as if trying to get him even closer to you.

He looks drunk and disheveled when you pull back again, a goofy and satisfied smile on his face. His fingers scratch slightly along your back, “You’d like that, huh?”

“Yes, please,” you beam with happiness.

“Then you shall have it, mi vida (my life),” his hands travel down to your ass which he gropes obscenely, and when you make a noise, he smacks your right cheek. You feel his cock, hard again, poke into your thigh.

You look down between you, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d gotten old…”

“Like I said…” He grabs your waist and pulls you down to lie on your back. A yelp escapes your lips.

He is inside of you mere seconds after, causing you to longingly whine. He thrusts once then twice, and you throw your head back to take it, “…I’ve missed you.”

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

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yuellii · 9 months

Text

flawless night, forevermore

feat. ayato, baizhu, alhaitham, childe, kaveh, raiden ei ( separate )

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they are so obviously in love with you

( or, in which i tie them to a taylor song i’ve been crazing over, but you don’t have to know the songs to read / understand )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, no other warnings

> part one / part two ( more characters )

KAMISATO AYATO. lover

His lips curled up with a fathomless fondness he did not even notice about himself. His ticklish gaze, his admiring eyes, his comforting silence—such a poor, poor man drowning in his hopelessness, falling love struck into the night.

Even atop the dewy grass that stained his carefully tailored clothes, he paid no mind to the mess as he preferred to hear you talk instead. The intelligence of a Kamisato was long forgone in the melody of your voice, and perhaps you had strum his heartstrings too much to the point he loses his senses. He forgets a lot of things about himself when he’s with you, perhaps at one point, even his own name.

Kamisato, the name that ties him to a lifetime of formality and not a single night of rest. A dreary lifetime that does not allow him to learn the wonders of love. But oh, how he loves you.

“I’ve always wanted one of those cute little tea tables,” you muttered into the cool winds under the glowing moon. Your finger absentmindedly traced an oval into the air, a motion that had his head following your invisible drawing. “We can sit together in the mornings and have tea before work.”

“Then we’ll get one,” Ayato affirmed. He failed to notice how his own grin had widened, simply as an automatic reaction from seeing your pleased smile at his response. “Little cushions for us to sit in, too,” he added on. “You know those round ones? We can have them in our favorite colors.”

Look at him, blushing over silly cushions.

There’s a dazzling haze in his eyes when he’s like this. It’s a spark that never runs out once ignited, for he has a history of rambling when he’s with you. “There is this porcelain tea set we can get, which has a pattern I know you’ll like,” he’ll say, further jumping to “And it comes in a set of four—we can always invite Ayaka and Thoma over to drink with us.” He’ll go on and on like this, fantasizing of a life where you lived together, happily ever after.

He’s imagined this for eons in his head. Such innocent-presenting ideas and remarks, but it’s obvious in the way he talks so fast. It’s ridiculously evident the more excited he gets as the night stretches on, that he’s been daydreaming of the moment you move in with him, so he may love you every day.

All he asks is to be forever yours, for as long as time permits.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

BAIZHU. sparks fly

It almost never rained in Liyue.

But his words were such a booming thunderstorm that no water droplet could ever compare, even amidst this cold, grey afternoon. And only when he finally blew you away like a thin stack of cards, did he feel a sharp sense of emptiness at the sight of you running off into the pouring rain.

Baizhu admitted that you were a burden to him. Boring, unintelligent, annoying—that you were a hindrance to be around. You were only a distraction to Qiqi, and more importantly, a bothersome presence to him.

It took all his willpower just to spit such venom from his tongue straight to your face—all his might just to convince you that seeing him is a bad idea. And yet, you still called him a liar.

“You mean none of those words,” you sharply inhaled via short, speechless breaths. He could tell you were breaking down from his hateful speech, but to his guilt, it was exactly what he wanted to see from you. “You’re just trying to drive me away again,” you spat out. You were trying to convince yourself: that fact alone was clear to him. But the longer he stayed quiet despite biting back the truth—biting back that he has fallen so immensely deep in love with you—you began to doubt yourself.

But the moment he watched your figure break down past this storm, he immediately crumbled with a sense of guilt much stronger than any curse he has ever wished upon himself.

Perhaps he was too harsh on you. Archons, perhaps he was too mean—this was exactly why he didn’t deserve you. You deserved better than such a sick, lowly man who could not even live for himself, instead binding his life to save others instead.

But still, even after all his own revelations and realization of his nonexistent self worth…

He was still a greedy, selfish man.

And that selfishness had him running right out of his door and into the pouring rain, not caring at how the sudden cold nipped and picked at his skin, or how the winds beat at his frail body. Not even the Archons could halt such a starvation for salvation—it was the only spark he had left to chase.

In this cold, dreary life—in this cold, dreary day alone—you still shone like the sun under the dim streetlights of Liyue upon this pale grey sky. His body still eased the moment you caught his eye, almost as if your gaze alone had suddenly removed every drop of sickness he self-injected into his own bloodstream, or as if you were the cure he was looking for all his life.

Such selfishness once again had his body fighting from collapsing when he desperately fell into your arms that held him so dearly. And the greed of mankind only snapped when found his lips settled so hopelessly against yours, clinging onto your kiss as if he would die tonight.

Truly, maybe he would. But for now, in your embrace, he feels the strongest he’s ever been since he sold his soul.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

ALHAITHAM. enchanted

Archons, he hated these events, though he had no choice but to attend. No one could ever allow the Acting Grand Sage, even if he held so much spite, to escape the demeaning eyes of Sumerean publicity.

Alhaitham held himself as an independent soul. But this formalwear, this clanging of champagne glasses, this suffocating air—were definitely not so independent nor free.

This hall of aspiring young scholars and old men, all in one exhibit for the sake of research and networking. Academics is what they acclaim, but the Acting Grand Sage may be too thick of a personality for them (if he had one at all). But the only thing keeping his eyes open from boredom, quite surprisingly a person, was you.

You, who looked young compared to these much older alumni and long-time scholars. And it was truly you, out of the many faces in this room, who he could not name.

Your eyes met from across the room. Such a sliver of a chance—his eyes whispered a curious glance from the opposite wall among this dreary sea of scholars. There was a spark graced by the Electro Archon, perhaps; or maybe even a gush of wind from the God of Anemo. But every sense of composure was lost when his body moved on its own, walking himself closer and closer just to meet you.

It begins with hello; it always does. It continues with quick remarks, with “I’ve never seen you before,” and with “Have we met?” And soon enough, he feels like he’s in school again. He feels a flutter he has not known in years, an urge to talk quicker than he can think. The crinkle at the corner of your eyes has him immersed in amazement. The sole fact that you can crack a smile at him; a smile that wasn’t fake politeness like all these scholars.

For some reason unbeknownst to him, that expression of yours alone had his feet glued to the floor, like you’ve trapped him in such an engaging conversation he desperately could not let go. It was a forcibly dreadful night—you turned it flawlessly enchanting in a way that you read to him like a book, all in which he could not put you down once he begins.

And once the event ends, and he is forced to leave you so soon, he watches you walk away with an expression that he himself could not even read.

Wonderstuck.

He would never notice the light tint on his face, staining his cheeks all the way home.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

CHILDE. cruel summer

Left foot, right foot, tiptoe, right foot—hold the counter, hold the wall, hold the rail all the way up the steps… He’s got this.

One step down the hall, another foot down, a third one until he finds a steady rhythm. The room is hazy, the walls are spinning. His head hurts and he feels like a baby taking his first steps, so helpless and unsteady that he almost wants to cry again from exasperated frustration alone. Why was this so hard? Did he really hate himself so much, that he would stagger his way home from the bar like this?

One hand on the door, turn the knob, and—

Ah. He dropped his keys so loudly on the floor.

You woke up with a start from the bedside, immediately turning to him wide-eyed in both starling surprise from the noise, and more importantly, concern. He didn’t mean to wake you. He hated feeling guilty, but it was the exact feeling that crept up his spine once he saw the devastated look on your face. Frenzied eyes and dark circles—clearly you had stayed up just to wait for him, too.

“Ajax,” you voiced—a tone full of worry and heavy exhaustion, God, he felt so horrible. “Oh, Ajax, come here.”

As much as he didn’t like it when you cared for him like this, he was not immune to the sounds of your calling. His shaky legs carried him immediately, as if the alcohol in his system was pulling him towards you, too. “I’m fine,” he barely stuttered out. It was a claim he had to make immediately, a sign he was desperate to reassure you.

Your eyes grew heavier, though he did not know if they were lidded from concern or from sleepiness. Either way, he practically melted from the touch of your palms resting against his cheeks. So warm, but a much more pleasant warmth than the burning summer air that he just walked in, all the way home with a liquor-dazed mind.

“Have you been crying…?” Ah, and that was why your eyes were narrow—they were squinting at the sorry stains of tears that lined his cheeks. He forgot to wipe them, it seemed. It was almost laughable.

“No, just sweat from the heat.”

Crying over you… He’d never let you know that. To cry, to bleed, to die—you would never be the first person he tells.

“You reek of liquor…” Quite disgustingly so, he thinks. And yet, you still held his face so fondly, moving his head in such a gentle manner as you swiped his tear stains with the pads of your thumbs.

He stayed silent. He had no answer to this one.

“I love you,” he mutters, though it’s a confession nevertheless. And he says it so sadly—so miserably that you couldn’t help but sigh. He hates it, too. He hates it when you sigh. Because when you sigh, it means you’ll just let it go; No matter how many lies he tells, or how many times he cries, or how many secrets he keeps, you’ll still accept him like always.

“I love you, too.” And that was the worst line he’s ever heard.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

KAVEH. foolish ones

“Oh, woe is me…” Loves me, loves me not, loves me… “Did you happen to see anything in the mailbox?”

His roommate stared. “Go check it yourself.”

Kaveh heavily sighed. He couldn’t; He physically could not bear to do it. It’s not that he was lazy to get up, no. The real issue was the genuine grief he would feel when he opened the mailbox, only to see nothing inside. No special gifts, no romantic letters, and absolutely no confessions of love signed with your name.

It was embarrassing, really. To feel this dramatic and obsessed with words of admiration from you—oh, especially when Alhaitham found out about this whole lovesick ordeal. But he could not help his mind from just imagining it: the reflection of himself in your eyes as you finally confess your feelings of passion and love for him (feelings that didn’t exist, feelings he merely imagined you having, all so pathetically).

But he’s so weird, and he’s so terrible. To imagine a fabled life with you when you probably did not think about him this same way. How foolish. Did you daydream about him like he daydreamed about you every night before he slept? Did you think about him like he thought about you every time he sees your favorite color in the passing? Did you wait at your mailbox like he waited for any letters from you? No. No, you didn’t.

And he’s cried, quite humiliatingly. He’s cried that the perfect life he could picture himself having with you at his side would never be a reality. He’s cried a downpour of tears, simply because he allowed himself to be so caught up in a delusion that was so sick of him to conjure up.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

“So sorry Kaveh, I already have plans…”

Plans with someone else. No wonder you hadn’t written him any messages, or contacted him in a while. That… was not the scenes he had in his head. His imaginations, his hopes, his dreams—they did not have someone else in them. For someone he was so hopelessly in love with, he felt so much hurt. A foolish lesson to be learned by a foolish romantic.

In the end, he’d just be talking himself to sleep again. He’d just smile at the sight of you flourishing. Without him, your world will go on turning. A world full of reciprocated love and devotion, one that he would never know.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

RAIDEN EI. you belong with me

The Raiden Shogun was self-destructive. No more than a few people knew of such a fact, but she was certainly one of them.

Because if she cared for her own wellbeing, truly, then she would not fall for selfish desires. Nor, would she be here now, sitting next to you outside a sliding screen in her private gardens of Tenshukaku, sipping your favorite tea and hearing your sweet voice ramble about something so unpleasant to her ears. If she prioritized her own emotions, then maybe she’d be living in blissful ignorance right now instead of listening to your woes over a lover… A lover that was not her.

“And then, she teases me,” you complained, though it was clear you hated it. You didn’t like whining about your partner, which was a good thing—but it made Ei feel sick, because it meant you really loved that woman. “I know she does that all the time, and I just need to get used to it,” you continued, “but sometimes, it gets too much, and she still doesn’t stop.”

But I wouldn’t do that to you, the archon thinks to herself. And suddenly, the tea isn’t as appetizing anymore, because her own words felt drilled onto her tongue, forever forbidden to speak aloud.

“Miko… Has always been like that,” Ei quietly admits instead. She doesn’t want to insult your lover, for that same person was also her own friend. She wanted to be supportive, but it was impossible when she was so in love with you, that she spent every second of each passing day just wishing she was in Miko’s place instead.

“Yeah… But—still, I mean…” You sighed, coming to a loss for words to describe the pink haired shrine maiden. “Is it really so hard to ask just for her to understand how I’m feeling…?” you whined in what seemed like genuine distress. Your face sunk into your hands, and it took all of Ei’s willpower just to keep her respective distance from a romantically taken friend.

But I understand how you feel, Ei once again thinks. She feels so dirty of a friend for comparing herself like this. I understand you better than she will ever.

“Ei…” you muttered. She almost chokes from the way you say her name. “What should I do…?”

Be with me, instead. “Don’t cry over something, or someone, you cannot control. It’s possible your personalities are just not fit for each other, you know.”

“But I love her, Ei…”

Ouch.

She clears her throat, recovering from sharp breath of air she just inhaled. A part of her just broke in that moment, and it was so obvious, too—her expression quickly changed, her body became stiff, her balance suddenly shifted, and yet…

You noticed none of it. Your head was too clouded over love for another woman that was not her; So clouded, in fact, you did not notice the way Ei almost began to tremble. The misery you carried only crafted tenfold for the archon, eternally unbeknownst to you.

But you don’t belong to her, anyways. So why was she crying?

#childe x reader #ayato x reader #baizhu x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #raiden ei x reader #al haitham x reader #ei x reader #tartaglia x reader #ayato kamisato imagines #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #genshin imagines

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lure-of-writing · 17 days

Text

His little sister: Did you plan on telling?

Summary: Azriel learns of your sparring incident with Cassian and this is his point of view of the day in question.

Word count: 2.8k

Warning: probably some misspelled words

Note: Ya'll I love this back and forth between Az's and readers pov. What do you think? But things are starting to get more intense 😬😧

Ever since the night Azriel had returned with you from the summer court he was for the lack of better wording intentionally been avoiding you. It's not like he wanted to ignore you, gods no. If anything he wanted to be near you as much as possible. Rhysand never explicitly told him to stay away from you but with the intensity level of your antics increasing and the protectiveness level of your brother also increasing Azriel decided it would be the best idea so steer clear of you for at least a little while. Even though the two of you live in the same house with Nesta and Cassian he made it a point to be out of the house before you woke up and only return once he was sure you would be fast asleep.

Avoiding you wasn’t as hard of a task as one would think it would be since you tended to just roam around the house looking for something to pique your interest until you inevitably got bored and repeated the process. Not only did your free roaming habits help Azriel avoid you but he was still the spymaster of the night court and had his own duties and responsibilities to tend to. He had been gone for a week when he returned in the hours of the early morning. The sun still hadn’t begun to peak its ways over the horizon when his feet touched down on the roof. As wired as Azriel still felt from his flight back home, his body was tired. He decided to get some rest for a few hours before flying down to the river house to relay the information he obtained to Rhysand.

When he woke, the sun had finally started to bless the city of Velaris with its light and warmth. Reluctantly he began to get ready for what he was sure to be a very long day. He knew that today Cassian and himself were supposed to demonstrate fighting techniques for Nesta and the other girls but Cassian would have to figure something else out. Never did he think Cassian's new plan of action would be leaving an imprint of his fist on your face otherwise he would have shown up.

Azriel waited for his shadows to report back to him that you had made your way up and onto the roof to begin stretching with Nesta before he also made his way up to the roof so he could fly down to meet Rhysand. The goal was just to not get caught, which shouldn’t be too hard considering that he was a shadowsinger and very good at leaving places without being noticed. Just as he arrived at the top stairs leading to the unofficial training area that was the roof of the house of wind Cassian was talking about the importance of different fighting techniques.

Azirel knew that he should leave before you caught sight of him and then marched your away over to him demanding to know why he was ignoring you, ensuring that you made a big scene before all the Valkyries in training. He was sure that wouldn’t end well for him. The only answer that he could possibly give you is “Sorry, I’ve been busy.” which if he was being completely truthful was one hundred percent bullshit considering the fact that he's never been too busy for anything involving you. There have been times where he has been sleep deprived and littered with cuts and bruises and covered and blood and gods knows what and he still made time for you. He was sure that you were his fatal flaw.

His daydream was abruptly ended at the sound of your laughter. He didn’t need his superior hearing to know that you were teasing his brother. He could tell just from your body language. The tilted head, bouncy shoulders, wide smile and loose body posture that told him that you were poking fun at the general. Azriel swore he could read you better then he could read any book. He watched for just a moment longer as the two of you got into the fighting stance and began to circle each other while throwing out a few fake jabs to get ready for the real deal. As much as he wanted to stay and see you kick Cassian's ass and put him into place he also really needed to speak with Rhys so with one last look he shot off into the sky and towards his high lord and lady.

Azriel had just sat down in one of the overly large and plush chairs that decorated Rhysands office while beginning to retell the events of his latest quote unquote “adventure” as you would call it when Rhysands eyes clouded over. Someone was speaking to him mind to mind. If he had to guess, it would probably be his wife. Gods knows he did not want to know what they were talking about. A beat of silence filled the room before Rhys spoke. “It’s Cass. He wants me to go to the house.” The high lord rolls his eyes before going completely still. “What is it?” There hasn’t been many times in Azriels long history of knowing Rhysand where he got that look of dread on his face to say it was concerning was an understatement.

“It y/n” Those were all he needed to hear before both males were up on their feet in a split second and racing to the front door to launch themselves in the sky. If rhysand ever asked why he was so quick to react he would say it was because you were his friend and rhys little sister and most importantly family. And family shows up for family. Luckily Rhysand was too preoccupied with getting out of the house to notice the sheer look of concern mixed with panic on his friend's face.

There has been many times when Azriel had been faced with things that should have made his heart race and it didn’t. There were also times when he had faced things and it did make his heart race, but nothing could make his heart racing like knowing something had happened to you but not knowing what. It truly made his stomach churn and he felt like he just might throw up. And as the spymaster he has seen and done things that would make any normal fae sick to their stomach, but not once did he ever feel that way. His love for you was so overwhelming that even not knowing if you were ok could almost bring him to his knees.

The less than five minute flight to the house of wind had never felt as long as it did in that moment. He could hear the beating of both rhysand and his wings and they propelled them to Cassian's waiting figure. As soon as both males were close enough they could see Cassian pacing back and forth and Nesta cradling your head while you laid on the ground. If Azriels heart wasn’t racing before then it sure was now. Once both him and Rhys had landed it knew Rhysand was questioning Cassian as to why his baby sister was laying on the ground looking as dazed as ever. But he couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away from your body. A few moments passed before Rhysand was moving towards you and both he and Cassian followed. Finally he was able to pull his eyes away from where you laid to look at his other brother with an eyebrow raised in a silent way of asking what happened. Cassian's pained shake of his head and lack of verbal or physical response was definitely starting to concern him.

As soon as Nesta removed her hand Azriel knew why Cassian didn’t answer him. The reason you were laid out flat on the ground not responding was because of Cassian. The rational part of Azriel knew his brother never meant to do his to you. He would never hurt any female let alone the one he considered a little sister who he helped raise. But the irrational part of him, the part of him that was your mate, wanted to beat Cassian to a pulp for ever thinking it was a good idea to use you for his demonstration. His eyes never left your quickly darkening bruise that was starting to blossom across your face while his mind ran through all the ways he would like to repay the favor to his brother. It took a few deep breaths for him to decide that duking it out with Cassian would look suspicious to not only Rhys but to literally everyone there so instead he focused on controlling his mind numbing anger he felt not only towards his brother but the situation he put you in. Plus somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Cassian would have to deal with Rhysand and that wouldn't be pretty either.

After pushing his very primal anger to the side he began to as gently as he possibly could, pull you into his arm. Azriel, just like Rhysand, has been on the other side of a punch Cassian can throw and just how much damage it can inflict. Whether or not he was trying to. Azriel could see the start of just how much damage you had been dealt with the fresh red, purple and dots of red where the force of the impact had popped the blood vessels in your face. The condition of your face was enough to warrant a visit to the inner circles healer. Hell getting punched by either one of the three males was reason enough to pay a visit to Madja. Once he had explained to Nesta just where he was taking you he was gentle when launching into the sky. Not wanting to cause you more pain then you were already experiencing.

The flight to Madja’s clinic was a short enough one but every few seconds he couldn't help but look down at your face and evaluate the mark left on your face. It made him want to cry. He would never forgive himself for not showing up to training this morning. Even though you may not know that he was your mate. He did. And the day he found out, the moment he found out that he was your mate he swore that he would never let anything bad happen to you. Even if that meant sacrificing his life for yours. For you he would do anything without question. If you asked him to burn down the world he would and at the end he would deliver you the ashes pressed into a diamond just to make you happy. So knowing that his choice to skip training his morning was the direct result of the concussion rattling around your head and the very badly picked colors of the autumn court decorating your cheek made him disgusted with himself.

The bell above the door of the healers clinic jingled as the Illyrian made his way inside. Usually the old fae was tucked away in some room helping with another patient but this time she was sat at the counter working with an apprentice when he entered. “Y/n?” The calm voice was coated in concern. She made her way over to where he stood in the middle of the room giving you a quick once over before beckoning for him to follow her into a room. As soon as he set you on the bed Madja was looking you over for any other injuries. “What happened to her?” As the inner circles healer Madja was used to fixing up the three males even sometimes Morrigan and occasionally Feyre but never had you become a patient of hers. “She was sparring with Cassian.” The shadowsinger didn’t need to say anything else for the fae understood exactly what that meant.

Madja was in the middle of giving Azriel different tonics and potions that would help with the injury you had sustained when Rhysand walked through the doors. “Where is she?” the high lord cut a sharp look to his brother. “She's in the room resting. The apprentice is watching over her.” Azriel watched as Rhysands eyes moved from him to the healer. “And is she ok?” Madja gave a slight nod “She will definitely have a gnarly bruise for some time and a concussion but she will live. You should be thankful that Cassian didn’t put more power behind that hit otherwise we might not be having this conversation.” Madja picked up one of the tonic bottles and gave it a little shake. “But as I was saying before you came storming in here.” After all these years Azriel knew Madja was used to the theatrics of the inner circle and that's why she paid the high lord no mind when he barged in. For her it was just another normal day.

Azriel stayed while Madja explained what each medicine did, how much to give and how often to give it. Just in case Rhys wasn’t able to do it. Not like that would happen but just in case. He stayed in the front of the clinic while Rhysand went to collect his sister. Eventually the three of you emerged into the streets of Velaris. One was holding your body and one was holding a bag of vials. He was the latter. Azriel hated the thought of Rhysand walking through the streets of Velaris with you in your current state but he also knew that winnowing would not be a good idea. So both males began the walk to Feyre and Rhysand’s house. Not a single word was said the whole walk home. Azriel pushed open the wide doors for Rhysand to fix through when Feyre appeared before him “How is she?” for a minute he didn’t respond instead he watched as Rhys walked up the stairs and turned down the hallway leading to his personal room. After Rhysand was out of his sight did he hold up the bag he was holding. “Madja said she will be fine, just in a lot of pain.” His lady let out a big breath of relief.

Rhysand still wasn’t down from his room when he was finished explaining each tonic to Feyre along with how and when to give them so reluctantly he made his exit. That was not before sending his shadows to check on you. “She's still asleep. Comfort in bed. Resting. Rhys is looking over her.” Madja had given you something for the pain and in turn it put you to sleep. There wasn’t anything he could do. Rhysand would never let him close enough to care for you. Once when you were still a child you had accident cut yourself playing with a dagger Rhysand had specifically told you not to touch and when you eventually did get hurt Rhys was the one to tend to you, not allowing either him nor Cassian to care for you. Even when he was supposed to be training. You could have a paper cut and Rhysand would not let anyone other than himself look over you. You are his baby sister after all. That job belongs to him.

Azriel knew that Rhys would keep you at the river house until you were ok enough to be flown back to the house of wind. In those few days Azriel fought of the temptation to fight Cassian every time the two males made eye contact and spent the other time looking for a mission to get away from his brother. Azriel had a feeling the murderous feelings wouldn’t subside until he knew you were one hundred percent better. So being sent out on a mission with Cassian was the last thing he wanted.

They were currently sitting by a fire when Cassian broke the silence “So when did you plan on telling us that you were y/n’s mate?” Azriel felt himself choking on the water he had been attempting to drink mere seconds ago. “What?” his coughing fit was still ongoing when he managed to squeak out the one word. “I may not be the smartest one in the group but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.” Azriel swore he knew gave any indication that he was your mate to anyone. Hell he barely acknowledged it himself. “I am not y/n’s mate.” Cassian's laugh rang out into the open woods before echoing into the distance. “Sure you're not that why every time you looked at me for the past week almost, you looked like you wanted to kill me. I could tell you were avoiding me. I mean you're less than happy to be here with me.” the general took a big bite of his badly cooked dinner, not even bothering to eat it before speaking again. “You can deny it all you want but I would know because that’s the same way I was with Rhys when I had just an inkling Nes was my mate.”

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