#i'm honestly so close to telling him to move out
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I loved your recent post abt human Alastor x reader in the 1920s. Of course this is only a suggestion, what if you continued on with this? Maybe like having them move in with each other, start a family? Perhaps have a tragic ending that resulted both to go to Hell, or maybe reader be a fallen angel! Just all suggestions! Have a great day/night/evening<3
I dont know how long this was in here, I was scrolling through settings to mess around and found this, so I hope you didn't wait too long!
But this is one of my specialties and I'm honestly really flattered that you made a request!
The next day, the cops found a bloodied body in the alley beside the club. The corpse was too disfigured to recognize, knees bashed in backwards, jaw hanging loosely, ribs tearing out of the chest and a smile etched into the poor bloodied face as it hung on the wall.
Surely this was the work of the smiling killer in New Orleans, who else could it be?
No one had ever laid eyes on the killer and lived to tell the tale... except you.
You had been held by the psychopath in a loving embrace, wrapped up in a blanket on his couch.
For some reason, when you looked into this man's eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes as he softly smiled at you... you felt no fear, no urge to run or hide.
Yes you knew he had killed people, that he was no better than a monster... yet you couldn't help but think what made him this way. Everyone knows not to trust a bad apple, but not everyone suspects the tree that bears bad fruit... so you couldn't blame him, after all, why would you blame the apple for the trees wrongdoing.
Instead, you held onto him and stuck close.
Now you peacefully kneaded dough as your loving boyfriend drank his bitter coffee in your bakery as a customer walked in. Marjorie, a nice old lady who came by every second day for a box of beignettes.
"(Y/n)! Have you heard the news?"
You looked up from your dough, flour had stuck to your apron as you wiped your hands "What news, ma'am?"
"Theres been another murder!" As the words left her lips you could see alastor tense up as you studied him.
The poor lady was shaking as she opened her purse "it was a young fellow around your age! He had such a long life ahead of him too..."
You could see alastors hands shakily lift his cup to his lips.
"What a terrible thing! Here, have these on the house, as a thank you for your patronage" you smiled, handing her the box and pushing her change back towards her gently.
The lady smiled with a thank you before turning to leave.
"Say hello to Mr Broussard for me will you?" You waved at her as she closed the door.
As soon as the door closed you slammed the oven shut with the bread inside.
"ALASTOR HARTFELT!"
The coffee spewed from his lips as he stood up to face you "honey listen-"
"Don't you 'honey' me! You promised you'd stop this!" You placed your apron on the counter as you circled around to meet him at the cashier "You said you were out to go hunting!" You poked his chest as you cornered him.
"(Y/n) it wasn't a lie! I was hunting! For the scum of the earth!" Alastor held his hands up in defense from your accusations, trying to reason with you and get back onto your good side.
"You know damn well what I think of your little hunting!" You grabbed your purse and started for the door before he blocked your path.
"(Y/n), dearest, where are you going?" His smile could not hide the panic in his eyes.
"Away from you, I'll be at mimzys until you can decide which one you'd prefer to give up "you pushed him aside and opened the door "me? Or your little 'huntin'?" You slammed the door as you walked to mimzys club.
Just because you didn't care that he did the murders before, didn't mean you were okay with him continuing them. Part of you thought you could eventually get him to see the good in the world again and leave behind this cold blooded killing, he loved you enough to do that at least right? Then maybe when you two grow old and wrinkly, God could open the golden gates for both of you... if your foolish boyfriend could ever stop hurting innocent people...
You sat on the stool with mimzy, drinking a glass of wine.
"I just don't get it! How can he keep choosing to go 'hunting' almost every night, mimz?! Doesn't he see the danger?" You sighed.
The short blonde looked at you "what can I say dollface? Boys will be boys! They've gotta have some sort of hobby, an most of the time, it's a gruesome one! Why can't they just take up knittin or even painting? Always hunting or boxing I say" mimzy took a swig "and every night? That's harsh! Doesn't he see how pretty you are?"
The two of you giggled.
Nights like these were always nice, just you and mimzy sitting in the empty bar, drinking and talking the night away.
"At this point mimzy, I think its better for me to just stay alone though, it doesn't seem like he's changing anytime soon and I don't know how long I can take this" you looked down at the glass, running your finger along the brim...
"Its okay girly" mimzy rested her hand on your shoulder "I'm sure he'll come around eventually, either way, I'm here for ya"
She really was one of your best friends.
Your conversation was interrupted when you heard a slight creak in the floorboards behind you two, making you turn around.
"This place is really getting old, I'm gonna need to find a way to get a new place" mimzy sighed.
The night went by fast as you two talked, and before you know it, you were right back in front of your bakery, sign lights were off as you opened the door, silently clicking the lock before making your way to the upstairs where your humble abode resided.
Alastor most likely went to blow off some steam, he tended to do that after your arguments/fallout.
You had left in such a hurry that you forgot to take out the bread from the oven, but luckily, alastor had seen you bake many times and finished the loaf before placing it on the cooling rack.
By the time you finished downstairs, it was midnight as you started walking upstairs, exhausted from the days work and alastor fiasco.
When you opened your door, you were met with a nervous Alastor standing straight and tense in front of you.
"I have something to say-" you both said in unison.
Alastor seemed to tremble as the words left your lips, still unable to make eye contact.
"I know it's not very gentlemanly of me, but may I go first?" His words almost came out as a mumble as his smile was strained.
You nodded, indicating he may continue.
"Thank you" Alastor took a shaky breath before looking you in the eyes "darling, I know I haven't made it easy for you with my... hunting... but I promise-"
Anger boiling in your blood, you interrupted him "do you know how many times you've told me that lie, Alastor?" Your nose scrunched up in anger as you tried to hold back tears "how many more times am I going to keep hearing this?"
Alastors wide eyes showed the fear he had of losing you, making your heart ache even more than it already was.
"I promise... my dear, this is the truth" Alastor took a gentle step forward, eyes trained on the ground.
placing your hands in his "I've put a lot of thought into it... and although I don't like the idea of being unable to kill those filthy vermin... I realized i can't live in a world without you in my arms"
Alastor ran his fingers gently over your knuckles, a gentle smile placed on his lips, almost dropping to a frown.
"I can change... and I know you want me to, I'll put in the effort to become the man you want, the man you need..." Alastor lifted your hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he placed a soft kiss.
The anger you felt died down, but still hesitant, you asked "how can I be sure you mean it?"
Finally looking back into your eyes again, he knelt down on one knee, still holding your hands "I, Alastor Hartfelt, would like to ask you, (y/n) (l/n), for your hand in marriage, I swear on my mother's grave that I will never take your words lightly, love you with undying devotion, and never kill again" he then rested his forehead onto your knuckles gently before he desperately whispered "please"
This proposal was not exactly practical, considering your argument not even 6 hours ago. There was no ring, no classy dinner, it wasn't how anyone would imagine a marriage proposal, yet here you were, heart beating rapidly as you felt tears fill your eyes.
Your words felt stuck in your throat as you looked into your lovers eyes "do you mean it?"
For what felt like the first time, Alastors smile dropped as his face held a serious expression "with all my heart, ma' cherie"
Your knees buckled as you fell into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you held your lover tightly, whispering out a shaky "Yes" into his chest.
Months went by, the wedding went off without a hitch.
Mimzy was your maid of honor. No one else was really there for your wedding, considering your family had cut ties with you years ago, and all Alastors' relatives were either deceased or overseas.
Nonetheless it was a happy and joyful union.
Alastor had kept true to his word and never killed another human, kissing your shiny ring every night like a reminding prayer.
Your bakery gained popularity since you were now Mrs Hartfelt. But popularity has its downsides... it wasn't long until women started talking about you, jealous of your position as Alastors wife.
The words themself didn't hurt you much, but the constant harassment and inability to leave the house without being called a harlot, that was slowly getting to you.
Alastor had assured you many nights before bed that things would get better, and if need be, he would give up his career as a radio host. The poor man would do anything for your happiness, anything to assure that you'd stay his forever...Even kill if you'd permit him to.
But there was only so much Alastor could do... it wasn't until one evening when you failed to show up to your shared home that he began to lose it.
Alastor was on edge, thinking of all the possibilities, you could've been held back at the bakery by a man who held ill intentions, you could be checking in with mimzy or got taken by a jealous fan. So many thoughts raced through his head as he slowly made his way to the door to look for you, eventually deciding against it, sitting back down as he patiently waited for your return...
Except you didn't.
It wasn't until a whole sleepless night had passed when he decided to go search for you. But of course, he came home empty handed. Were you unhappy in this marriage? Did you elope with a man he didn't know about? Did you realize you didn't love him and run away?
The second option was to call the police, something he's never done before.
The police launched an investigation, it was only until a month later, you were found in an alleyway, someone had called the cops about a crazy woman attacking a man, the situation escalated to the man killing her in self-defense.
They found traces of drugs in your blood, filing you as a drug abuser.
your body was frail and malnourished, pale like it had been weeks since you last seen the sun.
Alastor was called to the scene to see if this lady was indeed his wife.
When he arrived, he felt like the world was about to open up and swallow him whole.
As his eyes fell onto your pale lifeless body, something snapped inside of him.
You were never one to use drugs, never one to attack someone for no reason... something was wrong.
He knelt down and held your hand with tears in his eyes. Although he had seen many dead bodies in his life, this was the one body he never wanted to see like this.
He hated how your body was treated the same as the trash that walked the earth, like a lowly peasant when instead, the world should weep for the loss of you.
'This is all wrong' he thought, as he cradled your body in his lap as your blood stained his white shirt, but he couldn't care less as the last ray of light left his dark world.
It was long after your funeral, he hasn't been able to sleep since then. Every night he'd wait until daybreak for your arrival, like this was all some twisted joke.
It wasn't until one day he realized you needed revenge.
Yes, he promised to never kill anyone, but that was when you were alive, when you were beside him, when he was able to fall asleep with you by his side every night, Before you were selfishly taken from him.
He hasn't slept in days, maybe weeks? He couldn't remember... all he knew was that the man needed to pay for what he did to you...
It took a while but he eventually found the lying heathen.
There he was, sitting at mimzys bar, the same bar he met you, sitting on the same stool that YOU would sit on... it made Alastor sick watching this man live like he didn't take you away from him.
Alastor walked in, and sat beside the wretched man.
"You seem familiar" Al questioned, sipping on his whiskey.
The smug bastard grinned before turning to him "I'm the hero that took down that crazy bitch not long ago"
It took all of Alastors' willpower to seem calm and oblivious.
"My, you must be quite the hero then, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me ALL about it" Alastor motioned for a drink to be served, and the unknowing bastard fell right into Alastors wicked game.
It didn't take long to say the least. This prick was an easy target, and now here he was, being buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere.
You surely would not be happy with your dear husband actions... but who could stop him now?
For months, the spilling killer of New orleans went on a rampage, almost no one was safe, not even dear old Marjorie...
Eventually, alastor had killed all the men and women involved in your kidnapping and drugging... and here he was, burying the last one...
What would he do now? You weren't there for him to return to... all his plans revolved around your future with him
I guess all he could do now
.
.
.
Was Die
As if on cue, a bullet pierced Alastors skull straight through his forehead... as everything went black...
Hello! I've been working on this for a while now, at least a week, and I think I'm just going to make another part for this, keep an eye open for it cause it will hold the afterlife of these two lovers!
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afab!reader, no prns, praise, edging, wet&messy, könig using ur clit as a fidget toy <3
könig, a trained lethal soldier, who suffers from anxiety. you would never know if you didn't know what you were looking for.
his biggest tell, for you, is the way he fidgets. with you.
you're like his own personal little fidget toy. his hands are always on you, kneading and squeezing your skin. most times you don't mind, you rather like having him touching you — your thighs, your waist, your butt, wherever he can get his hands honestly.
but sometimes...his hands wander. it's mindless, truly.
his eyes fixated on the tv playing some random show he decided he wanted to watch. but you couldn't pay attention, not when one big hand was shoved up your shirt groping your breasts and the other was haphazardly stuffed into your sleep shorts and under your panties.
he's toying with you so mindlessly, callused fingers sliding over your clit that has grown increasingly slippery with how wet you've become. occasionally he dips down to prod at your slick entrance.
his movements have no rhyme or reason. he's not even moving very fast. just sloppy back and forth flicks and occasionally he simply taps his fingers against the little bud that has grown so sensitive from his playing. sometimes, when something interesting happens on tv, he stops completely until the desire the fidget returns to him.
you're sitting with your back against his chest, situated between his spread legs sprawled cozily on the couch. he can't see the heated, dazed look on your face from the come-and-go pleasure he inadvertently gives you. he's edging you without even realizing it, full attention still focused on the damn tv. he isn't even hard.
that thought alone is enough to make you clench around nothing. he's really just playing with you like a little toy and that thought is so hot to you. it makes you cheeks burn in embarrassment as you continue to leak into your panties.
if you listen close you can hear with wet clicking noise that comes with his movements. your eyes roll back in your head as that sound alone has your back arching but you quickly settle yourself down, not wanting to tear his attention from the tv — he so rarely had time to settle down and just enjoy tv, you didn't want to disturb him.
the episode he's watching ends and you cast a hopeful glance up at him but he's waiting for the next episode to start and it makes you whine against your own wishes. but your clit is so hard and twitchy from being edged that it's actually hurting and you're so wet now that your panties are uncomfortably sticky.
it's your whine that gets his attention, pretty blue eyes flicking down to your face where he finally sees the desperate way you're looking at him, teary eyes and swollen lips from biting them to keep quiet. you can see in his eyes when he registers how soaked you've gotten his fingers and he has the audacity to look sheepish.
"ah, my sweet..." he whispers, ears tinged pink, "i-i'm sorry, i did not realize..."
he moves to pull his hand out of your panties and you whine again, grabbing his wrist with both hands to stuff him back down. your nails bite into his skin and he stops trying to pull away, instead pushing his hand back down and it's then that he fully resisters how wet you are.
"don't stop, please...i-i've been so close..." you pitifully beg and he takes pity on you. how precious of you, he thinks.
"i'm sorry, my love," he coos, fingers starting to work once again — properly this time with quick little circles on your clit, "i'll make you cum for being so good for me."
you can't even formulate words, instead nodding and spreading your legs even further apart, your feet on either side of his legs. he hums softly in your ear, chin hooked over your shoulder as he watches his hand move under the fabric of your shorts.
he spreads your sticky folds apart and begins to swirl messily around your clit, occasionally lightly tapping against the bud just to watch the cute way your thighs twitch at the feeling. you reach back and clutch his t-shirt in your fists to ground you. his cock throbs, churning up quickly, at the loud, wet noise of him playing with your cunt.
it doesn't take long at all before your stiffening against him and twitching in his lap as you cum with a cute little gasp of his name. he moans softly in your ear as he feels your clit throb under the pads of his fingers. you let out the loveliest moans that has his cock hardening fully against his thigh.
when you slacken against his body, aftershocks making you twitch periodically as you pant, he's tempted to stop but the fact you had sat there so sweetly and let him practically torture you while he watched his show made him want to make it up to you.
he sees the excitement in your eyes when his fingers dip lower and begin to press into you and he can't believe just how sweet you are. your so sticky and wet with the amount of cum he worked out of you with such ease.
"let me really make it up to you, my little one..."
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cw; obsessive!anakin, toxic!anakin, babytrapping, afab reader, 18+
anakin skywalker is an emotional, clingy, fanatic, and obsessive little bastard.
in my heart of hearts, i believe anakin is fucking obsessed with you. he is lovesick. you're just...you, so gentle and warm. you've shown him so much love and care, and he's so so in love with you. he's ready to do just about anything for you. and hes awfully clingy, but affectionately so. he's always holding you close to his body, nuzzling his face all over yours, and kissing you excessively. sometimes it almost seems like he's trying to merge with you.
he tries to move in with you like 2 months into your relationship. he's all whiny and practically begging, "baby, we spend so much time together. why keep going back and forth like this? :(", and you solely agree cause his pout is just too pretty.
honestly, he loses his fucking mind at the mere idea of not being with you. literally. i'm talking, he'd be going on about his day, then suddenly, he's struck with the mental picture of not being yours, and you not being his. and he's brought down to his knees, head in his hands and everything.
it's to the point where he starts getting so possessive and jealous that he cannot fucking bear your friends. the concept of you taking a liking, platonic or not, to anyone but him makes him so nauseous that he's ready to throw up (that's not to say he hasn't already). and it's mutual. your friends fucking hate him, he's so mentally deranged and they can't figure out why you're with him.
oh and woe to you if any of them are men. he is in pure and utter agony. he will visibly sulk, pout and huff 24/7, he's unbearable. and when he's alone, he'll blankly stare at himself in the mirror, scream into his pillow, and cry himself to sleep.
the thought of you being with anyone but him - makes him physically incapable of breathing. it feels as if he's being suffocated. it makes him sick to his stomach and the thought of you loving anyone else makes him want to crawl up into a hole and die. he picks fights and argues with you because he just wants every ounce of your attention to be concentrated on him, needs your eyes to never stray off of him once, needs you to be all his at every waking moment. only his, his, his, his...can't you just give him that?!
and when he's finally able to see you, he practically combusts, he's fueled up by all the negative thinking :( he doesn't even stop to greet you, he just smashes his lips onto yours, and carries you to bed.
he fucks you in missionary, so he can look deep into your eyes, and show you just how much he loves you - tells you all about how he's willing to do whatever it takes for you to never, ever, leave his side. then he snarls harshly, going on about how he can't and won't let you go. and when he's close, he's practically shedding tears, begging you to never disappear on him. can't you see? he's an empty shell of a man without you, he cannot live without you. you tell him to pull out and he almost doesn't catch it due to the resounding obscene noises filling the room. almost. but he does. so he cages you in his arms, and plunges his dick so deep, and he starts babbling, all pathetic, about how your kids would have his eyes, and your nose.
he practically wails when he buries himself to the hilt one last time, shooting his cum deep inside your womb. and you're about to push him off of you when he starts moving again, helplessly and feebly mewling, "i can't stop", hes so demanding and hopeless. hes physically incapable of bringing his messy thrusts to a halt...god, what do you do with him?
#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin skywalker smut#anakin x reader#anakin fluff#anakin smut#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker imagine#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#star wars x reader
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How would the TWST dorm leaders react to their girlfriend wearing a piece of clothing that turns them on? And what would it be?
The last part of this ask got me real stumped cause honestly? I have no idea what's sexy so I'm winging it.
Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, lingerie, grinding, desk sex, keeping clothes as a souvenir, teasing, making out, getting pinned, rough sex, jealousy, possessiveness, marking, creampie
A/N: I wrote this and I still have no idea what counts as sexy clothing. I guess ties and suits for me idk.
RIDDLE + STRAPLESS BRA
He only sees it when you're behind closed doors of course but he knows you're wearing it under your uniform all day. It's so damn easy for him to push it down when you're alone and have free access to your breasts, pushing his head against them, his breath tickling your nipples as he pushes his cock in and out of you.
LEONA + MINI-SKIRT
It means that all he has to do is hike the skirt up and move your panties to the side to fuck you. One less article of clothing in his way, not to mention everyone can see the marks on your thighs left by him, how you're claimed by him in multiple places. He can also take off your panties completely, use them to clean you up and pocket them, telling you to come an collect them in his bedroom after class.
AZUL + STOCKINS
There are so many things he can do. Snap the elastic band against your skin, tear them off, push his fingers underneath the smooth material to hold your legs apart. He wasn't expecting you to wear them today, it's a nice but distracting surprise that he will be sure to take full advantage of and revel in as his cock splits your cunt open on his desk.
KALIM + OPEN SHIRT
No way are you wearing that out in the open. Although he's not usually the possessive or jealous type he won't have his girlfriends tits gawked at. He originally only planned to button you up bit it quickly turned to him pushing his leg between your thighs, his tongue silencing your gasps as his hands pinched and rolled your nipples before soothing them with kisses.
VIL + HEELS
Since he wears them too he knows just how well heels can highlight ones features. Yours are practically on full display, he likes that in private but can't take when others approach you in hopes of flirting. He pushes you into the first empty classroom there is and bends you over the desk. His pace is uncharacteristically rough but with your heels he can easily put you at the right angle for maximum pleasure.
IDIA + THIGTS
Being someone who wears mainly baggy clothes anything that's a contrast would draw his eyes. It frustrates him that it takes him a while to strip you out of them, especially when he's so fucking horny but it makes it all the more rewarding when he pushes them down your thighs along with your panties and begins to thrust into you, letting all that frustration out.
MALLEUS + FORMAL DRESS
Just a dress, just a dance, that's all it was supposed to be. Not when he sees you, how sexy you look, how many eyes you attract. Eyes that aren't his. He doesn't have the restraint to wait until you're at the dorms, he pins you in the empty hallway and leaves scratches across your bare back and cum trailing down your legs from how full your cunt is when he's done with you.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland imagine#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland smut#twst imagines#twst headcanons#twst smut#riddle x reader#leona x reader#azul x reader#kalim x reader#vil x reader#idia x reader#malleus x reader
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you'll always be my girl - t. nott
summary: theodore nott was your brother's best friend, and had been the boy of your dreams since you first lay eyes on him. everyone knew that. so it's a surprise when you suddenly get a boyfriend, and theodore is determined to show you why he's the better choice. always has been and always will be.
warnings: all characters are of age. smut, cheating. all that fun stuff. theo is reader's brother's best friend. reader pined for YEARS but it faded away when she got with her boyfriend. she's a bit of a pushover. virgin!reader. dom!theo. sub!reader. modern au. lots of swearing. arguing. praise kink. overstimulation. dirty talk.
note: this prob isn't great, i don't write smut often idk
"Mate move! Move! He's behind that wall." Theodore shouted, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tapped the keys on his controller trying to be revived faster.
"Fuck! I can't find him," Lorenzo had replied, a similar tone to Theodore's as their eyes were both glued to the screen in front of them.
It was only the two of them at Lorenzo's tonight, something that wasn't overly uncommon for the two of them to do. Despite being close with the rest of their group, Theodore and Lorenzo spent the most time together just the two of them. Theodore practically lived at the Berkshire's house half the time nowadays, finding it much warmer than his own.
Honestly, it was more shocking if he wasn't at the Berkshires.
"Over there! Shit!" Lorenzo cursed, the loud, violent tapping of buttons ensuing at a more alarming rate from the two of them.
"Where's his-"
"Theo! Theo! The-" A red alert came over the screen, letting the two boys know that they had lost the game. They both put their controllers down, Lorenzo using the palms of his hands to rub his eyes in frustration, and Theodore throwing his head back with a groan.
"We really ought to get better at this mode, or we need to just stick to doubles," Theodore said, looking over at his friend who chuckled with a nod.
Mr and Mrs Berkshire were both out for the night, away on holiday, or business or whatever, Lorenzo didn't tell Theodore all the details. Theodore didn't particularly care anyway, it didn't make a big difference to him.
Lorenzo's parents were lovely to him, always greeting him pleasantly, always happy to see him, and telling him he was welcome at any time. They had even unofficially allocated one of the spare bedrooms in their house to Theo, who was eternally grateful for the escape it gave him.
"Enzo, I'm home!" Theo's attention was directed towards the door, where he heard someone kicking off their shoes by the door before walking towards the living room.
Y/n Berkshire. Lorenzo's younger sister. He was honestly surprised he hadn't noticed earlier that you weren't there. Even though you normally tucked yourself in the small library in the house, he had been here for hours and hadn't heard a peep from you.
Sure, you were normally quiet, but normally you at least said hello.
While growing up with Lorenzo, Y/n was never normally far behind. You had adored your brother when you were younger, and even as you both got older you remained close. Theodore on the other hand, had elicited a different sort of adoration from the younger girl. One that brought a blush to your face every time he spoke to you, or even looked in your direction.
It had been that way for years, and honestly, Theodore couldn't remember a time when you had been able to look him in the eye for longer than five seconds before getting too shy and looking away.
Footsteps echoed towards the living room, and the second you came into view, Theodore's eyebrows furrowed. Your body was covered in a silk dress, your hair styled perfectly and makeup on your face. You looked fancy, and Theodore could not imagine what you possibly could have been doing to require such an appearance.
There certainly weren't any parties on, if there had been, Lorenzo and Theodore would have been the first ones to know.
"How was your date?" Lorenzo didn't even look back at his sister as you sat down on the other couch, a sigh of relief as you sunk back into the comfortable material.
A date? The question had Theodore baffled. You had been on a date? With who? It certainly made the appearance seem more logical, you looked pretty. You had made that effort for a boy.
"It was good," You nodded your head, not looking over at your brother either as you grabbed the book that sat on the coffee table, flipping it open to the page you had dogeared earlier on that day so you could continue reading.
"You were on a date? With who?" Theodore asked.
"Oh, hi Teddy," You looked up from your book, sending a small smile to your brother's best friend, only just noticing him, "Adrian Pucey, he's in your year."
Teddy. The name you had called him since you started to talk. Everyone had called him Teddy when he was growing up, including Enzo, his parents and yours, but you were the only one that didn't grow out of it.
"It's Theo, y/n/n," Lorenzo had corrected you, as he always did, knowing how much Theodore despised the nickname now that he was older. What he'd never tell your brother though, was that he didn't mind it when you did it. It felt natural coming from your lips. He couldn't ever imagine you calling him Theo, or, god forbid, Theodore.
"Yeah, sorry," You mumbled, picking at the edge of your dress as you looked down at your lap, the book held in your other hand, a finger on the page you stopped reading on so you could keep your place now that you had straightened out the fold.
"Why are you going on a date with Adrian Pucey, he's…"
Theodore wasn't sure what to call him. Annoying? Arrogant? Not good enough for you?
"My boyfriend?"
"Your boyfriend?" Theodore echoed, his eyes almost bulging out of his head and jaw almost falling onto the floor. His tone was incredulous as if you having a boyfriend was completely out of the question.
"Well, that's new," Lorenzo murmured under his breath, not loud enough for you to hear, but loud enough for Theodore.
His tone let Theodore know that he, too, was not too happy about the arrangement. Adrian wasn't 'boyfriend material' and certainly not good enough for you. He was sleazy, and an average quidditch player at best.
"Yeah, is it so unbelievable that I could get a boyfriend?" Your tone -despite your word choice seeming a little sassy- was soft. Your eyes battered between the two boys, eyebrows furrowed as you sat forward.
Silence ensued between the three of you, your eyes still battering between the two boys, both of which didn't know what to say. It wasn't surprising that you could get a boyfriend, but your choice was certainly questionable. Frankly, they were too astonished to speak.
While Lorenzo had known you were spending more time with Adrian, he was hoping that it would fizzle away before labels got attached. He barely gave it any thought, thinking you wouldn't take a boy like Pucey so seriously. Oh, how he was wrong.
"I'm gonna head upstairs," You said quietly, sulking off the couch and quietly walking away, feeling a little ashamed that they seemed so surprised that you had managed to get your first boyfriend.
Theodore's eyes followed you, staying stuck to where you disappeared upstairs as Lorenzo broke the silence, breathing out some air, "Never expected that. Well, at least we know she's not pining over you anymore."
"Yeah, I guess."
…
It was less than a week later when Theodore was heading to quidditch practice, his bag slung over his shoulder, broom in his hand. He ruffled his hair with his free hand, breathing out some air as he prepared himself for what he could guess was going to be a pretty gruelling practice.
Granted, he could give himself some leeway, being the captain and all, but that didn't set a good example. They had a big game coming up in a few days and they needed to do well. There was little space for error, and Theo would make sure everyone was ready.
Hearing faint talking as he walked up to the locker room was odd, considering he was normally the first or second one there. He must've been running a few minutes late.
"-how you managed it, mate, I mean, between her being Berkshire's untouchable little sister and everyone thinking she liked Nott, you can understand why everyone's a bit surprised."
Theodore's hand halted its movement, not pushing the door open just yet as he listened in. They were talking about you.
"She just needed to know who the better boy was, didn't she?" He heard a muffled Pucey reply, "I certainly showed her."
The familiar feeling of anger began to bubble in Theodore's chest as he registered the words that came out of Pucey's words, and the laughter that followed them. Walking in, his hardened blue eyes immediately caught onto Pucey's, a silent warning.
Yet, all the smug cunt did in reply was smirk. That certainly didn't help the feeling of red, hot, anger that exploded in Theo's chest. Quidditch practice was going to be hell for him, Theo would make sure.
"Wait up!" An hour and a half later, the anger still hadn't faded from Theodore's system. His shoulders were uptight, his hand holding onto his broom with a deathly amount of force. It was a surprise the wood hadn't snapped yet.
Your light footsteps struggled to catch up with the thundering pace that Theodore kept. His eyes cast over to you beside him as you finally caught up, his hair still wet from his shower after quidditch practice.
"Can I talk to you?" You asked, looking at Theodore awkwardly. You never normally felt awkward around him, but from the way he was looking right now, you could tell he was mad, but that didn't mean you could let what happened slide.
"Mhm," He hummed in response, his eyes staying straight forward as he waited for you to speak.
"So Adrian was speaking to me and he said that you were going extra hard on him at practice. I understand that you and my brother aren't happy that we're dating but-"
"You came here to stick up for your little boyfriend?" Suddenly, Theodore had stopped walking, turning around so he was facing you. His eyes stared into yours, the anger in his voice rising.
He towered over you, making you crane your neck up to look at him, a drip of water from his wet hair falling onto your forehead. You cleared your throat lightly, not used to Theodore being in such a mood. Even if he was annoyed, he didn't normally talk to you like that.
"I- uh, yeah, kind of. I just don't think it's fair that you're punishing him. It was my choice to date him, he didn't make me."
"Listen, y/n/n, if Pucey had a problem with me, then he can come to talk to me, not send his girlfriend to sort out his issues like a fucking pussy," Theodore spat out Adrian's name like it was a disease on his tongue, his jaw clenching at the mere thought of you taking Pucey's side over his.
If you had any sense, you'd know to mind your own business. You had grown up with Theodore, you had known him for your whole life. Adrian had been your boyfriend for all of a few weeks and you were already choosing him over Theo? That was what wasn't fair, not a few more laps at training.
He saw the frown that made its way onto your face, and if he wasn't so angry at you and Adrian, then he would've crumbled. He knew you were sensitive, much more than most people, and the last thing he wanted to do normally was make you upset. Yet, if you wanted comfort then you could go to Adrian, especially after you tried to stick up for him.
Turning on his heels, Theodore began to walk away again, but it seemed you were a little more determined than normal.
"Come on Theo, you know it's not fair!"
That just about tips him over the edge. This was so unlike you, and it was all because of Adrian. You always went by what Lorenzo and Theodore said, but today you chose to stand up to Theo. You chose Adrian over Theodore and refused to let it go and now you were calling him Theo?
You had been reprimanded for over a year about still using the nickname, and a few weeks into having a boyfriend you suddenly dropped the name of endearment? That was enough.
"What was that?" Theodore stopped in his tracks the second the words had come out of your mouth, barely managing to get the words out between his gritted teeth. He looked over his shoulder at you, watching as you crossed your arms over your chest.
"You know it's unfair."
"You have no idea what's unfair, y/n."
"I know making Adri do double the number of laps as everyone else is unfair! I know knocking into him with double the power as everyone else is unfair, Theo! You're his captain, you need to be fair!"
"Stop that." His tone was reprimanding, like telling you off for doing something unspeakable. He didn't like this one bit, you talking back to him. It felt like something had been shifted and he wanted it all to go back to the way it was.
It was your turn to let out clipped, sarcastic words. Something you would have never dreamed of doing to him; the boy you had pined over for years. Yet, all you could see was an immature, childish boy, not the guy you had liked for as long as you could remember, "Stop what, Theodore?"
"Stop calling me that."
You knew exactly what he was getting at. You always had an inkling that he enjoyed the nickname you refused to drop, given that he, himself, never told you off for it. You also knew he didn't like change, and that the idea of him and Lorenzo not being your number-one priority anymore bugged him. He hated that you had a new boy in your life.
"What? Stop calling you your name?" You replied, raising an eyebrow at him as he clenched his jaw again, letting out a dark chuckle as he started to walk away.
"Just fuck off, y/n."
You didn't bother to follow him.
…
You and the girls were bustling about in your room, doing all sorts of things. Some were getting changed, some were doing their makeup and some, along with you, were doing their hair. It was a Halloween party that practically half of Hogwarts was going to, and luckily for you, the house was only a few minutes walk away from yours.
Lorenzo and his friends were getting ready too, but you had chosen to keep your girls in your room, completely separated from them. Frankly, it was too much tension, and drama, and you didn't want that to stomp on your excitement for the party.
"Hey, y/n, do you have any snacks? I'm starving," One of the girls piped up, stopping doing her makeup to look at you in the mirror. You nodded your head with a smile, telling her you'd be right back as you headed down to the kitchen.
There was noise coming from the tv as you walked by the living room, letting you know that some of Lorenzo's friends were probably in there, taking a mental note to avoid. You wished that he had gotten the vibe to keep his friends in his room, but your brother was clueless sometimes.
He even seemed to be clueless about the fact that you and Theodore had been ignoring one another for the last three weeks, acting as if the other didn't even exist. With your arms full of all types of snacks, you left the kitchen, making your way back up the stairs.
Your eyes are on the snacks in your hand, making sure that none of them are going to fall as you walk, only to be halted by something being in your way. You had walked into someone.
"Oh, sor-" You cut yourself off as you looked up, making eye contact with intense blue eyes staring down at you. You narrowed your eyes.
"Y/n," He had acknowledged you for the first time, but not being nearly happy about it, his mouth in a thin, straight line, and his voice apathetic.
You mirrored his tone and body language, "Theodore."
He remained looking down at you, your pretty eyes looked up at him in disdain, a constant reminder of how you guys had last interacted with one another. He was still slightly mad, more irritated than anything, about the situation, and it was clear you weren't over it either.
It was so unlike you, and he hated that. While he wanted you to stick up for yourself more regularly, he hated that it only seemed to be him that you were being resistant to. It frustrated him to no end, that your relationship after so many years had changed so much in the blink of an eye.
He missed the way you looked at him with your doe-like eyes, so hopeful and kind and soft. Now, they were narrowed, almost as if a threat for him to say something. He hated that it was like you were trying to test his patience.
His mouth opened slightly, just about to speak to you, only to not get the chance, your bedroom door opening, "Y/n, c'mon! I'm hungry!"
In an instant, your eyes are no longer looking at him, but down towards the snacks that lay in a disorganised bundle in your arms, brushing by the taller boy towards your room. You spare no attention towards him, not a word nor a glance, leaving him alone in the hallway as you continue getting ready in your room.
It doesn't feel too long after that when you are all ready, all of you bundling down the stairs ready to go to the party. You know all the boys are now in the living room, and you would have happily walked by without entertaining him, but you knew you couldn't.
"Enzo, can I have some of the money mum and dad left?" You say, coming into the room. The boys are all ready too, but you know they won't leave until the party had already started for forty-five minutes at least, too busy playing video games and not wanting to be around for the awkward start most parties have.
You adjust the wings that are on your back as you walk towards your brother, white boot heels hitting off the wooden floor, the girls falling shortly behind you.
Theodore's eyes flicker up to you casually, but when he catches sight of you his jaw almost falls off, the modest girl you are, with the shortest skirt on he's ever seen. If you turn around, he knows he's almost guaranteed to see the curve of your ass, driving his mind haywire.
You adjust your bright-coloured corset and wings once more. It's obvious that you're supposed to be a fairy, but Theodore knows you're no Tinkerbell. You're perhaps the sluttiest, most tempting fairy he's ever seen. His mind races.
Lorenzo scratched the back of his neck, "Kitchen."
You nodded your head, heading off to the kitchen as all the boys quiet down. Lorenzo looked down at his phone, as the girls all follow you out of the room, "Mate…"
"What?" Lorenzo replied as Theodore sat beside him, all the other boys engaging in small talk again.
"Are you letting your sister go wearing that? Surely you can't," Theodore's trying to keep calm, but his mind is practically begging Lorenzo to make you change. The thought of someone else seeing the curves of your naked thighs and the curve of your arse makes Theo want to die.
"Nah mate, it's not ideal, to be honest, but her mates are just…they call you all sorts and start screaming if you say anything," Lorenzo finally looked up at his best friend, and Theodore can tell that Lorenzo isn't very happy with the predicament either, "and y/n/n just doesn't listen anymore, so there's no point."
There was a point though, to Theodore anyway. He didn't care what your friends thought, or about this new attitude you had adopted since you started dating Adrian.
You're back in the living room soon enough, coming to say bye, but Theodore is quick to walk over to you, not looking very impressed. He speaks lowly, "You should go change."
"What? Why? Do I look bad?" You smooth down your skirt a little, looking up at him with your usual wide eyes, a crack in this new attitude you've been showing lately.
"No," He's quick to shut down any doubt you have about your appearance, "It's just a bit inappropriate."
"Oh, don't be a prude, Theodore," One of your friends overhears, piping up in your support.
"Go change," He paid little mind to your friends, looking down at your eyes and repeating his previous order.
"Girl, you look so hot, don't let him cramp your style," Another one of your friends joins in to support you, a hand on your shoulder as she began to steer you out, "now let's go before he has anything else to say."
The second he saw you being steered out the door and towards the party, he just knows that this night is going to be one of frustration.
His prediction was correct. Only an hour and a half later he was ready to get out of there, the strongest alcohol he could find in a glass with his hand wrapped around it. Purple strobe lights, people laughing, and loud music all seem to fade into the background as his eyes focus on you. He could tell Pucey was trying to rile him up, and it was working.
His hands have been all over your body: while dancing, while sitting down, just every second of this party, and Theodore loathed it. He hated that Pucey's dirty, sleazy hands were on your soft skin, exactly where they didn't belong.
He tried to ignore it, his eyes closing as he downed the rest of his drink, slamming it down on the table. He didn't know where any of his friends were, and honestly, didn't care. He didn't want to talk to anyone or be with anyone but you right now.
He hated that he was thinking about you like this. Lorenzo's baby sister. It was supposed to be the other way around, you were supposed to be the one obsessing over him, so why couldn't he get you out of his head? Why have you been the only thing consuming his thoughts for weeks?
"Hey there, love," A girl sat down beside Theodore, a thing he loved at parties normally. The attention was something that had him feeling smug, but he couldn't even bring himself to look at her. His eyes focused on you as he hears your giggle echo through the room as Pucey whispered something in your ear.
Nothing Pucey could say would ever be funny enough to elicit such a beautiful sound. It felt illegal that he was allowed to hear your laugh, never mind be the reason for it.
"You seem tense, Theo," The girl puts her lips slowly closer and closer to Theodore's neck, her voice quieter and slower as she teased her lips against his neck, lightly grazing it, "Let me help you."
The song that blasts through the speakers had Pucey pulling you up to dance, twirling you around in his arms until his hands thread through to hold your waist. You're facing away from Theodore, completely naive to the blue eyes that follow your every move.
Your boyfriend, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier to meet Theodore's cold gaze, a smirk coming to his lips as he looked down at you, then moving away slightly, only to bring a hand down on your arse.
That has Theodore on his feet immediately, hearing the yelp that you let out as he stormed towards Pucey, ripping him away from you and getting right in his face. He was taller than Adrian, towering over him too as he gets right up in his face, "Don't fucking lay a hand on her again!"
"Theo!"
"She's my girlfriend mate, I'll do what I want." Pucey only fuelled the fire of rage that burned in Theodore's chest. You seem frozen, unsure of what to do as you try and catch the attention of either boy, wanting this nightmare to end.
"Yeah, we'll fucking see about that," Before you could even react, Theodore's fist is making contact with Adrian's nose, and Adrian stumbled back for a few steps before his legs gave way underneath him and he was on the floor.
A gasp emitted from your throat in shock and horror, looking at Adrian as he groaned, holding his nose, red staining the skin. A hand grabbed your wrist, much softer than you had expected from the same fist that had just floored your boyfriend, and dragged you away.
"Theo-"
"We're going home, y/n."
The next thing you know is that you're at the front steps of your home, wanting to say something, anything. Yet, any time you took a breath of air before speaking, Theodore was sending you a look that had you shutting your mouth straight away. Something was daring in his eyes, something a lot more threatening than normal.
His grip gave you little opportunity to wriggle free, his other hand banging open the door, his foot harshly hitting it shut behind you before you are trailing after him up the stairs. He barely gave your feet any chance to keep up with him before you were in his room.
He only let go once you were in the middle of his room, the door shut behind you both. The room is dark, and you both are heaving out a breath. You can just about see Theodore's shoulders sag a little, his voice quieter as he spoke, "I don't like what the boy is doing to you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Dressing like this," He stepped towards you, his fingertips grabbing the edge of your skirt as he continued, "acting like a slut, that's not you baby, you're normally so good."
Your stomach is filled with butterflies as he looked down at your eyes, soft for the first time in weeks, "I am good, I-"
"You think tempting me like this is good, baby? Wearing this outfit and dancing with another man's hands all over your body," Your stomach flipped at the pet name once more, your heart feeling as if it's going to race out of your chest.
Your throat feels blocked up as you watch every slight move he takes, feeling as if this moment is surreal; as if you're dreaming. His voice turned soft as he spoke again, "Where'd my good girl go?"
His hand caressed the side of your face softly, the pad of his thumb swiping over your soft skin and guiding your somewhat messy hair away from your face so he can see you more clearly. You had dreamed of this moment for so long, hoping that one day Theodore would reciprocate your feelings.
The feeling of his hands on you was so euphoric that no amount of dreaming could have ever made you feel like this. This was real.
"I-" You couldn't speak, your brain feeling as if it was going to overload.
You knew this was wrong. Theodore was your brother's best friend, you had grown up with him. He was off limits. You had a boyfriend. So why couldn't you find it in yourself to pull away from his grasp?
You felt as if you were getting pulled closer to his body. The temptation is so bad that no amount of self-control could save you now. You were a goner, you had always been when it came to Theodore.
Since you had been young, you knew that you would do anything for him. Anything so that he could give you this sort of attention, and make you feel like a princess. Your rational thoughts and morals should be pulling you away, but your heart aches for him, it always has.
"You gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be, angel?" He asked, almost as if he was trying to aid you in finding your words. You could only nod your head.
Suddenly, the familiar scent of cologne and cigarette smoke overtook your senses, his lips crashing against yours in a soft, but desperate kiss. His hands reached around you to pick you up, your hands going into his soft hair, grabbing onto the strands with your fingers as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
Swiping his tongue across your lips, you opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss as he took steps towards the bed, lowering you down onto the bed. His lips are still connected to you, and you can feel your lungs begging for oxygen, but you don't want to pull away.
Theodore does first, his blue eyes meeting yours as you slowly manage to open your eyes, your lips parted as you breathe in, trying to fill your lungs with the oxygen they had been deprived of. You follow his eyes as he slowly kisses down your neck, then down the valley of your breasts, his hands pulling down the corset, and you're quick to aid him in pulling it off.
The feeling of his lips grazing over your stomach has you hitching in a breath, watching as his head slowly lowers down your body. Then, his head is nestled between your thighs, kissing the soft skin that isn't hidden by your skirt. The hair on his head tickles them, the skin so sensitive, so unused to being given this much attention feeling so good.
With a racing heart, you watch as Theodore pulled up slightly, wanting desperately for him to touch you where you needed him the most. You ached, a feeling in you that you had never experienced before. You knew that Theodore often evoked feelings in you that you never experienced with anyone else, but this was new.
"You sure about this, baby?" You nodded your head in immediate response, but that didn't please Theo. With a light swat to the inside of your thighs, he looked at your eyes with a slightly more serious expression, "Use your words."
"Yes," The word spilt from your lips breathily, "Please."
Theodore, with a satisfied smile, came up to your face, leaning over you and softly attaching your lips to his. It feels just as surreal as the first time, and it makes your heart race just the same.
With his mouth still attached to yours, you feel his fingers brush against the fabric of your panties, just over your clit, making you hitch a breath. His fingers move the light fabric to the side, his fingers teasing against your hole.
"So wet for me, baby," The praise isn't taken lightly by you, soaking up every inch of approval he gives you.
Slowly, he adds a second finger, his thumb pressing down on your clit as his fingers curl into you, making you let out a breathy moan into the kiss that he eagerly swallows.
Your back arches off of the mattress, and as good as it feels you need more. You need him, "Theo…"
The blue of his eyes meets your gaze as you whine. You can't help it, you're desperate for more, to feel him inside of you. To take care of you and this pressure you can feel building in your stomach.
You mumble something out, a feeble attempt at getting him to speed up the process without verbally admitting that you're desperate for him. He doesn't take the hint though, not that you ever expected him to. He was torturous, tempting you and teetering towards what you wanted, but keeping you on the edge.
"Please."
It's a whisper as you let out another moan, your fist clenching his hair in your hand, grabbing onto any part of him that you can keep from pulling away.
A ghost of a smirk came across his mouth as he raised an eyebrow, "Please what, baby?"
You could tell from the familiar look in his eyes that he knew exactly what you wanted, his fingers curling up once more as they stretched lightly, stretching you out. Your eyes screwed shut as you felt slight tears pricking at your eyes. It just felt so good.
"Please," A broken whisper escaped your lips once more as you let out another moan, his thumb roughly coming down on your clit as you tried to bring your hips up, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It was so unfamiliar and had you heaving for a breath as you grabbed fistfuls of Theo's sheets.
With a final thrust of his fingers and a pinch against your clit, you came undone with a strangled moan. Your face was tilted back, mouth open and eyes closed, your hips bucking up to chase your high. You looked unreal, and Theo couldn't get enough.
When he removed his hands from you, he was coated in your bliss, your eyes softly opening, half-lidded, looking as Theodore brought his fingers up to his lips, his tongue transferring the taste of you, sweet and blissful, into his mouth. Your cheeks were tainted red when you realised what he had done, shifting about on the mattress and casting your eyes down.
Yet, you don't get much of a chance when a strong hand reaches for under your jaw, pulling him back up to meet his eyes, "Don't go all shy on me now, angel."
He could see the slight fuzz in your eyes as you stare at him, and he loved it. He liked how, simply with his fingers, he already had you dazed. His hands were soon pulling down his trousers with ease, and lifting his shirt off with one hand, leaving him in only his boxers.
You could see the outline of his bulge, and it had you gulping. You didn't know how the hell you were going to be able to fit that. He was so much bigger than you had imagined, or expected.
"Don't worry baby, we'll take it slow," He was quick to reassure you, a smug smile on his lips as he brings his mouth down to your collarbone, lightly nipping the skin as he sucked. It was definitely going to leave a mark, but that's what he wanted. He wanted Pucey to see it the next time he saw you, trying to assert some dominance on the situation.
Once he pulled his boxers down, he was soon lining up his tip with your entrance, lightly brushing it against your walls. He couldn't help himself when he asked, "Has Adrian ever-"
He began, but you were quick to shake your head vigorously, giving him a sense of satisfaction. He watched as your eyes screwed shut, soft breaths falling from your lips as he asked, much softer, "Is this your first baby?"
Unwilling to admit it out loud, you hesitantly nod your head, confirming Theodore's suspicions. He only just managed to conceal his grunt of satisfaction at being the first one to see you this way. To be the one to ruin you.
"Don't worry," His head is just beside your ear, a hand coming to gently brush the hair away from your face so not a single change or twitch in your face could go unrecognised by him. He wanted to see everything, every reaction you had as he ruined you, as he made your face twist in a type of pleasure that was entirely unfamiliar to you.
Slowly, he began to push into your tight entrance, the feeling of your walls squeezing him making him want to release already, grunting. He can hear your breathy moans of pain and pleasure as he struggled to go slowly, watching as he disappeared inch by inch inside of you.
All he wanted to do was slam into you, to hear as you screamed in pleasure, but he controlled himself, gripping the sheets with his hands to remain his discipline. You feel tiny in comparison to him.
When he finally bottomed out inside of you, you let out a strangled breath, not used to this feeling of being penetrated like this.
"You feel like heaven, sweetheart," The praise fell from his lips as he grunted once more, one of his hands coming to hold the side of your neck.
"'m so full," You partially cried out, tears leaking from your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling. It felt so good, overwhelmingly so, that you couldn't help the water that leaked out of your eyes.
His mouth came to softly kiss the tears away, your hands coming up to wrap around his back to hold him close to you. You wanted him as close as humanely possible as you slowly became accustomed to the feeling of him inside you.
"You're doing so well, baby," The praise is murmured against your cheek, his eyes closed in pleasure, "Let me know when I can move."
It isn't long before you're giving him the green light and he rocks his hips back and then forward, going slower to start with and soaking up your moans and whimpers with his mouth. His thumb pressed against your clit as he began to go faster, making your moans get louder and you become more desperate.
His hips snapped against yours and you sob into his lips, your nails scratching down his back. His hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of your body and worshipping it all. He knew he could sit and caress each part of your skin and never get bored, feeling intoxicated by the softness of it.
You were like a drug, something he shouldn't touch, something that was supposed to be off-limits, but far too tempting to leave alone. He knew that from now on, he'd never be able to let go of you, never be able to keep his hands to himself.
Your moans were melodic to him, something that he could never get over hearing. He had never had sex like this with anyone before, always quick fucks to satisfy his needs, but this was different. He felt like the barrier was broken, that you guys were connecting on a different level. Something you could never go back from. He would never let you.
The look of your parted lips, mascara running down your cheeks with your tears and your hair messy was a sight that no man but him deserved to see. He could tell you were getting close, he was too, your walls clenching around him as your moans got higher in pitch and louder.
The tears roll down harder, pouring out of your eyes as you barely manage to get your words out, "Teddy- please."
The return of the nickname has him going harder, abusing your g-spot as he hit off it time and time again, igniting a flame in his stomach as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead.
"There she is," He whispered to you, his lips still against your forehead, "There's my good girl."
You came not long after that, walls convulsing as you came around his cock, moans loud as he found himself not far behind, quickly pulling out as he came over your skirt and bare chest, both of you panting and moaning, lost in the sound and feeling of one another.
#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x berkshire!reader#theodore nott x virgin!reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#bfb!theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theo nott x berkshire!reader#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theo nott x virgin!reader#theo nott x sub!reader#dom!theo nott x sub!reader#dom!theodore nott x sub!reader#theodore nott x sub!reader#theo nott x crybaby!reader#theodore nott x crybaby!reader
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heyyyy💘💘💘 can u pls do either an angsty charles (w/happy ending ofc) abt like them getting back together after a break up OR i saw a vid of lando with an interlinked love cartier necklace and thought it’d be a cute idea if him and reader had like matching necklaces! LOVE U THANKS
Linked - LN
Hey, I do want to say I still have that Charles request, I know you'd sent it in. For some reason right now I'm just slow with Charles fics. I am going to try and get it done bc it's been ages since you sent it in so dw. I do a lot of requests out of sequence. But I promise it is coming.
Also, I looked into the necklace (I think it's the necklace you're referring to). It's actually not Cartier, I thought it was APM Monaco but it's not that either it's by a brand called Metal Noir as part of their signature collection. But for the sake of the request...we're going to pretend because I like your idea. I am going to say I'm a gold jewellery girl so...reader is too soz
Lando has always quite liked jewellery, having a small collection of some staples and recently fans have given him enough beaded or braided bracelets that he's having to find new storage for them.
"Is matching necklaces too much?" Lando asks looking at Jon who looks up in shock. He's done a lot for Lando, but giving relationship advice or even gift advice isn't really his forte.
"Y/n gets excited when you make her a sandwich mate. I think getting matching necklaces is definitely not too much." Jon states honestly while Lando smiles since his girlfriend did get very excited the other say when Lando made her a sandwich after he'd noticed she hadn't really eaten anything all day.
Lando likes having things that remind him of y/n when she's not around. He loves the woman, she is one of the few things that he can truly just say is all for him. He's almost greedy with her, only wanting her attention on him, hating to share her with anyone else.
"I'm getting them." Lando declares earning a slightly amused expression from his trainer.
-
It took a couple days to arrive and Lando was waiting at the door like a puppy while y/n was experimenting in making something in the kitchen. She'd already kicked Lando out for purposely bothering her while she tried to focus.
He'd done it intentionally so he'd be given the chance to keep an eye on the door for the delivery.
When it arrived he tried to pick between giving her the necklace in a box to open or to just give it to her. Or to wait till she's done.
Ultimately he puts his on first deciding he wants to see if she'll notice. He's pretty sure she could tell if he plucked a single eyebrow hair out. So no doubt a whole addition of a necklace will get her attention even if she's trying to shoo him out of the kitchen.
"Ooh...baby it smells good in here." He states walking into the kitchen and to his surprise she doesn't stop him.
"Thanks...I'm making a one tray roast...I think it's going to be good." Y/n mumbles clearly just in the process of clean up before she looks at him and does a double take.
It takes a couple seconds while Lando smirks a little at her.
"Where's that necklace from? Is it-Is that a Cartier necklace?" Y/n questions, eyes narrowing on it. "When did you get that?"
"Today. It just got here. But close your eyes, I got you a surprise too."
Her expression is immediately unimpressed since while he knows she's going to be happy, the girl hates surprises. At least in the sense that he wants her to close her eyes and wait.
"Please. I promise it's worth it." Lando pouts making her sigh and close her eyes.
Thankfully she's too with enough space for him to move behind her. And place the necklace around her neck, her body jumping slightly clearly not expect it before she raises her hand and tries to look down while he does the clasp.
"What-?"
"And now we match." Lando smiles making her pick up the connected loops.
"You got us the same necklace?"
"Well kind of, yours is gold because you're a little weirdo." Lando smiles earning a small laugh from the young woman before she smiles leaning to kiss him.
"You are the cutest boyfriend ever. Honestly, the cutest man ever." Y/n smiles before kissing him a couple times. "It is part of the love collection."
"As if I'd get you any other collection." Lando scoffs earning a grin from her. "Thought it was a nice metaphor for us. Linked together."
"Stop because I'll melt." Y/n pouts before kissing him a couple times. "I'm going to show this off you know."
"I expect no less." Lando laughs making her grin at him.
-
The post of their matching necklaces with the slight hint that Lando had been the one to get the necklaces kind of sent the fans feral. It didn't help that on his Lando.jpg account he posts a picture of his hand around her neck with the necklace just peaking out and her face hidden.
Hell even she had to admit the photo was hot. No surprise it's now his lock screen.
At the moment they're his driver room and he's changing for FP1, wanting her there. Y/n is playing with his reaction lights when suddenly a line drops past her eyes and she jumps feeling Lando's hands at the back of her neck.
"What's that?" She questions standing up from the hunched position she'd put herself in.
"I don't trust anyone else with the necklace. So if you wear it while I'm on track, I know it's safe."
"Baby...seriously, you're going to have to stop. That's the cutest thing you've ever said and done. Even cuter than getting the necklace." Y/n pouts actually feeling herself tear up that he's having her wear the necklace so he knows it's safe. "I'll guard it with my life."
"No, if it's the necklace or your life. I can buy another necklace to match you. Can't get another y/n."
"Alright, get ready and leave. I'm going to curl up and sob for a while. Seriously, I don't know why you're trying to break my heart by like...loving me so hard, but it's hurting." Y/n laughs though there's genuinely tears escaping as she moves to kiss him a couple times while he laughs at her.
"I just want you to know I love you."
"I know. Now stop being nice. I need my sarcastic, sassy boyfriend who doesn't know how to filter his words."
"No...he's gone when it comes to you." Lando grins then wrapping her tightly in a hug. "Alright, I do have to go. But you are not staying here to sob."
"I guess I can accept that." Y/n hums before smiling as he kisses her again. "You look good in these new fireproofs. Upgraded."
"Yeah, I like them." Lando states as he places her down. "Come on then."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03
#f1#fanfic#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#ln4 x reader#lando x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando#norris#lando norris mclaren#mclaren f1#lando norris fanfic#mclaren formula 1#lando norris one shot#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#ln4 x y/n#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#ln4 x you#ln4 one shot#ln4 fanfic#ln4 mclaren#mclaren racing#mclaren
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Stray Kids reaction to you being extra submissive
Smut under the cut, bdsm themes and use of pet names. Jisung's could be interpreted as breeding kink so do with that what you will xx
Chris:
You'd established your kinks early into your relationship, and he was a pro at reading the signs by now. He'd notice the second you went quiet, your hands resting neatly in your lap as you listened to whatever the boys were currently talking about. While you were with people, he would feed into your submission by asking you to do small things like getting him a bottle of water or searching something on your phone for him. It was his way of letting you know that he was aware and okay with it.
The second you get somewhere private, he's asking you to kneel, his hand gripping your jaw as he slips his thumb into your mouth, which you suck willingly. Your relationship was far from a constant theme of dominance and submission, but he would never deny you when you were feeling extra pliant. He loved how much you trusted him to take care of you and he was happy to take advantage of it, moving his hand to the back of your head as he unzipped his pants and pulled your face closer to where his cock was trapped in the confines of his underwear.
"My poor baby. You need me to take care of you, huh? Always so good for me. Let Daddy think for you, okay?"
Lee Know:
You were almost always submissive to him to begin with. Being a bratty dom was so much more fun to him knowing that he had such an eager to please sub at his beck and call.
You'd be sitting on the floor between his legs legs where he sat on the couch and he'd be playing with your hair, tugging a little harder than necessary just to hear the prettiest whine leave your lips. Your eyes would lock on his and you wouldn't care at all about the other eyes on you because you always gave Minho anything he wanted and right now what he wanted was to push you to your sub space, waiting until you were right at the edge of being incapable of thought before he tells you to meet him in his room.
You're already kneeling when he gets to you, patiently waiting on his bed with your hands resting between your legs, eyes falling closed when he pets your cheek gently before landing a light slap against the sensitive skin.
"My pathetic little pet. Always so needy for me, aren't you? I could break you into pieces and you'd just thank me."
Changbin:
Changbin wasn't as well versed in the BDSM world as you were, but he had sat you down one night and forced you to explain every single kink term he could find, so he knew enough about what sub space was to be able to recognise it on you.
He had been teasing (torturing) you for over an hour, his fingers never keeping a stable rhythm as he thrust them inside of you, thumb rubbing painfully slow circles at your clit. He was always like this. He lived to see how you reacted to different pressures, speeds and sensations. You couldn't help it when you'd become so overwhelmed by frustration and need that you'd just slipped, unable to think of anything but Changbin, his cock, and how desperately you wanted him. It was the tears welling in your eyes that had him finally giving you the proper attention that you craved, his arms caging you in when he finally settles between your thighs, light kisses pressing across your face.
"My sweet bunny, I'm sorry. Let me take care of you, okay? Gonna make you come nice and hard around me."
Hyunjin:
Hyunjin was always mesmerised when you were like this. Your voice would become all quiet and soft and you'd jump to follow any single request he gave you. It honestly made him melt to see how eager you were to please him and he wanted to return that to you tenfold.
He'd first notice the change in your voice when you were out shopping with Seungmin or Felix, and he'd immediately have his hands glued to your back. He wouldn't take his hands off you for even a second until you were laying safely on the comfort of his sheets and he could replace them with his lips trailing kisses over every inch of exposed skin you had to offer him. Hyunjin would give you the pillow princess treatment just for even wanting to submit to him, gently removing your hands every time you tried to grip at him and locking his fingers with yours. He's 100% going to eat your pussy until you're begging him to stop, and maybe even after that.
"Such a sweet angel for me. Gonna let me spoil you, yeah? That's my girl. Let me hear all those pretty noises you make just for me."
Han:
Jisung is going to be completely wrecked the second he sees you going all soft and gooey for him. You'd be so attentive to him, refilling his drink and bringing him snacks and it really doesn't take any time at all for him to be pulling you toward his room, his lips connecting clumsily with yours as he kicks the door shut and pulls your body flush against his.
He'd be mumbling praises and compliments aginst your lips, refusing to stop kissing you as you stumble your way to his bed, both of you falling into a tangled mess of grabbing hands and desperate pleading as you shove off your pants. He doesn't have the time to waste on getting the rest of your clothing off because he's so desperate to be inside of you and every second that he isn't is absolute torture.
Fucks into you like an animal, his lips leaving yours in favour of marking your neck with deep purple bruises because he knows how much you love it. Everything he does is desperate and messy and you'll both end up glistening with a mixture of saliva and sweat because you can't keep your mouths off each other.
"Need you so bad. Fuck, so good to me. Always so good to me. Wanna fill you up, ok? Wanna claim my baby. So fucking wet. Mine. All mine."
Felix:
Felix is nervous, to say the least. He prides himself in being a "try everything twice" kind of guy but he finds it so hard to take charge when all he wants is to give the love of his life everything they could ever want from him.
You had asked if he could try being a little rougher with you and he had agreed, starting with a slightly harsher grip on your hips as you grind yourself against his hardening cock and graduation to the current position he was in which had you kneeling in front of him with your hands behind your back, his cock filling your mouth as he hesitantly fucked your face.
You had no objections whatsoever, obediently taking everything he was giving you and sighing happily as you caught your breathe every time he pulled out, making him lose all train of thought as he took in the sight of you covered in spit, your eyes watering and an innocent smile tugging at your lips as you stared up at him.
"Fuck. You look so good like this. Is this okay baby? You want me to go a little harder? Shit, you're driving me crazy!"
Seungmin:
Seungmin is gonna tease you about it to no end. Minho and Jisung would be lazing on the couch across from you when you began nuzzling into his side, which was always a telltale sign to Seungmin that you were feeling extra small and needy. Laughs loud enough for everyone to hear before asking if you were feeling a little submissive today. Minho would laugh along and Jisung would meet your eyes with a sympathetic pout before Minnie is shoving his thumb between your lips for you suck, telling you to be patient and wait until the movie is over which feels like it takes a lifetime.
By the time he gets you into his bed you're practically shaking, gripping his shirt as he lays on top of you and pleading for him to touch you. He loves when you get like this, responding to every plea that leaves your lips with a pitying laugh, telling you it was so sad that you were so needy just from being near him.
He doesn't really waste much time prepping you since he knows you're completely soaked, and he has to bite back his moans as he sinks himself completely inside of you.
"You're always so desperate for me, puppy. It's pathetic. Can't live without my cock inside you, can you? Always need to be filled."
I.N:
He is very much clueless at first and you have to explain it to him very slowly when you're alone because he isn't going to acknowledge the change in your behaviour with any of the other boys around. It's not until you're laying in bed that he asks why you were so quiet and clingy earlier and you're flushed a deep red as you explain to him that sometimes you just feel a bit overwhelmed by how much you need him and it just makes you want to do anything he asks.
He's almost embarrassed by how much of a turn on that is and he spends the next day trying to get you in that zone again with light lingering touches, his hands guiding you around by your hips and whispered request into your ear, which truthfully works much easier than he had hoped.
You're both falling into bed, your body on top of his as you whine into his mouth, his hard dick dragging against your clit every time he thrust his hips up against you.
"You wanna make me feel good right? Want you to suck my cock baby, please. Wanna see how you choke on me."
#stray kids smut#skz smut#chris bang smut#bang chan smut#chan smut#chris smut#lee know smut#mingo smut#changbin smut#hyunjin smut#jisung smut#han smut#felix smut#seungmin smut#jeongin smut#i.n smut#thefantasyden
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be good, be quiet
joel miller x f!reader | joel masterlist
GIF credit to the amazing @perotovar who i adore, and i'm grateful adores me.
summary: bill tells you both you're sleeping in separate rooms when a thunderstorm doesn't allow you to leave. but joel isn't planning on getting any sleep.
wordcount: 3.7k
warnings: post outbreak. smut. sneaking around (so to speak). p in v. fingering. joel angst. you riding joel. jo's spelling. praise kink. joel trying to keep you quiet (by sticking his fingers in your mouth). feelings, but joel-feelings.
AN: thanks as always to @thetriumphantpanda for leaving me comments in the document that made me feel less scared about posting. and also to @swiftispunk for being a cheerleader when i threw a snippet at her like a toddler with a drawing.
All unannounced, it rumbles in. Creeping in, bringing clouds that snuff light and immense claps of thunder. It’s the kind of storm that has lightning that even the shadows can’t hide from. Makes the house creak, groan—it pleading, weeping in its persistence to stand up straight and not cower.
It’s also the only reason the two of you are allowed to stay.
Joel hears the whispers, tuned in until they grow into near shouts in a room next to the one you and him are standing in. If you’re listening, you make no effort to show it—head turned, staring out as the rain thrashes down, eyes following certain droplets as they run down the pane.
Honestly, he doesn’t even want to fucking stay.
Had folded his arms to indicate as such when it was suggested. But, as he stares at you, he knows he doesn’t want you in it—recalling not all that long ago when you had shivered for days. You’d barely been able to speak full sentences as you remained curled in a ball he couldn’t unfurl, all cold to the touch, clinging to him as your teeth rattled in your skull.
It’s the only reason he’s grateful Frank forces Bill’s hand. His tongue piercing, delivering a fine—all razor-like, cutting, his voice booming that the two of you were to sleep in separate rooms.
He could have argued, could have glared, tilted his head—he didn’t. Not as the house shook with another crack of thunder, an idea sprouting, digging itself deep and blooming out across the wasteland living inside of him.
It’s why he plays along. Taking the fresh clothes, the offering of a shower, bidding you a goodnight loud enough for them to hear downstairs, a kiss to your cheek to sign it—burying a smirk under it all.
The whim pulsating, throbbing under his skin—not doused by the cooling temperature of the shower or his hand gripping the base of his half-hard cock. Memories, tinged with blackened edges brimming as he steps from the steam, thinking, ticking—
Waiting.
Waiting for the house to go mute in between the cries of the weather.
Waiting to strike, to prowl—a champion at it, awarded best in class.
Then, he tires from it.
Throwing the covers back, the soles of his feet meet the wood on the thunder. The ticking clock in the corner syncs with his racing heart, desperate to be quiet, maintain mouse-like footsteps, careful—as silent as he is when he moves through buildings that screech and click.
The door you’re behind is at the end of the hallway—shut, closed. A metaphorical do not disturb struck across it from the glare the two of you had been given before Bill had shrunk off to bed.
He didn’t care, not as the drops of water dripped from his hair down his neck, sliding under the fabric that didn’t belong to him. Fingers reaching out for the door handle, all set to twist, when it opens, metal pulled away from him—draping him and the dull flowered carpet in warm orange.
“Jo—“
He’s quick, hand smothering your exclamation, muffling your words. Covering them with his palm, enjoying how soft your skin feels even under it, as he raises his other hand, finger to his mouth—escorted by a glare, a silent order—before dropping it to your hips, grabbing, digging into you as he begins to walk you backwards. You move easily with him, pressing yourself flush to him, all trusting, reading him like a damn book.
“Were y’coming to find me?”
It leaves his tongue in a rasp.
And the look you give him makes his cock even harder than it already had been. Reminding him he’s too worn, too old to be doing shit like this—but fuck does he want to. Lay there, thinking of only you. Mind lost out at sea, bobbing along gentle waves of how you feel wrapped around him, that whimper you make when he flattens his palm to your spine, slides in, fills you, hips flush with yours.
You’re good, because you nod, no words—not making another noise. Your hand slips past him, shutting the door as your chest remains flush with his—the door happy, gleeful to return to its frame. He slides his hand from your mouth, moving to wrap it around the back of your neck, your chin tilted up without so much as a request.
Then, you smile, soft, almost innocent. But he knows you’re no angel—you’re something carved from molten and destruction, but fuck are you pretty. The kind that leaves an outline on the back of his eyelids. The kind that he suspects would turn heads, if you didn’t look like you wished to disembowel them for even looking. Plus, you’re always with him, eyes on him, enamoured, enchanted—
You shouldn't.
Not when he’s poison, slowly feeding you with drops—rotting your insides and blackening your soul. Watching you slowly being made in the shape of his past, carved, narrative rewritten and a future fading, before you get to live it, because of his company. A price scratched against your name.
But, you chose him—leave a mark, Miller. And he did, does. He paints himself on your spine, ropes of white whenever he can; he makes the juncture between your thighs slick with the mess he makes of you. More you whine, and that’s when it changed. When it became less about mindless distraction and more about possession, care, something else fucking entirely—
He pulls your ear to his mouth, your body relaxing, going limp—catching the scent of freshly washed skin. “Ima need you to be a good girl and be quiet. Can y’do that?”
Joel catches the smirk before you blink it away. Your teeth digging into your lip, nodding, catching the reflection of him as lightning floods the room—a sight that undoes him, affects him even though he’ll never show it. Because how much you want him scares him, makes him feel something other than numb, muted grief and disgrace.
The two of you don’t kiss, but he ghosts his lips over yours all the same. Something about the room makes it more intimate, romantic, normal.
“Not like you to break the rules.”
You snort, fingers knotting in his still-damp hair. “Well, I’m sure it’s equally not gentleman-like to sneak into a lady’s room.”
He grunts, and buries it in the back of his throat. Your tongue forces his hand, making him tug on the borrowed PJ bottoms you’re wearing. Palm flattening under the fabric covering your chest, resting it on your stomach, pausing, briefly feeling your heart beating, proof it isn't a fantasy, a dream, before sliding it down.
That’s when he focuses, basks in the feeling of nothing but the softness of your skin and the stories etched into it from surviving, from living. His fingers inching under the elastic and string, your eyes aflame, an inferno, and he wants you to burn him. Singe yourself into him, leave a mark, make it hurt.
“Stopped being a gentleman a while ago, honey.”
You’re wet. A truth two of his fingers feel, sliding them into your heat, suddenly enveloped by nothing but warmth and the sweet rose scent of the soap you washed your skin in. And it’s a comfort, eyes transfixed, all in awe as he watches you try to hold back a gasp—enjoying the way your nails dig into his neck, lashes fluttering and how you part your lips in a silent moan. He can make out what you’re saying is Joel. Each letter inscribed, even in a muted whisper. J-O-E-L.
He already decides he misses the way you sound. A new craving, a new need to make you sing—make your body break out into music, remind him how sweet something can sound when the world is nothing but grievous behaviour and murder.
It’s why he likes when your back is pressed to his chest, knees sore as he pistons in and out of you on the shitty mattress in the shitty room back in the QZ.
Because you can be loud, unfiltered.
There is no need to muffle back how good it feels what he’s doing to you, you can be unhinged, hiss his name, moan through gritted teeth if you’re trying to punish him. He hears them all the same, collects them. Stores them, and uses them to keep the last shard of him intact from all the loss and survival—the part of him he occasionally shows you. Usually in the dark, more morning than night, your chest flush to his back, not asleep, but not fully awake.
But, he can’t collect them here, can’t risk it here—slowing his movements down, hearing you fight it, struggling, being strangled by the moan you want to let breathe.
“C’mon baby, you know how to be quiet. Y’so good when we’re surrounded by clickers. This is no different.”
Narrowing your eyes, you whimper as the base of his palm catches your bundle of nerves. “You’re not—fuck, Joel—usually doing this when we’re surrounded by clickers.”
The corners of his lips twitch. It slides up into one of his cheeks, making a home there—all temporary, only something you seem to pull from him. “Guess I’ll have to help y’out then, won’t I?”
Your eyes narrow briefly before he does. Snaking two fingers—index and middle—past your lips, pressing down onto your tongue, continuing the movements of his other hand, the one pumping his fingers inside of you, coating himself in you.
He learns, quickly, that the pressure applied to your tongue does little to muffle your moan, but the clap of thunder smothers the rest. The way it bleeds out, shakes everything, allowing you a chance to whimper, whine and moan. Eyes digging into his, begging, pleading—
And, he could watch you for hours like this. At his mercy, hanging on the edge—shimmered with a light sheen of sweat and desperation swirling in your eyes. It’s the only time you’re weak, that you show him you can be vulnerable, soft, your edges smoothed down.
It’s why it takes him by surprise when he feels your tongue swirl around his fingers, sucking on them, staring into his fucking soul like you could repair all it had been through. Fuck he’d let you try when you look at him like that.
“Fuck, you’re filthy,” he groans, sliding his palm from your face, resting it on the wall by your head.
“You’ve fucked me on a forest floor, Joel. Don’t act so surprised.”
He lets you have that one—rewarding you for it. Unable to tear his gaze away when you’re overcome with it, stilling, tensing, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you constrict, breathing laboured, rapid breaths before you slant his name across his lips. Stain it. Bury the gratitude and relief as you slide your tongue past his teeth, worming into another part of him, a place he realises he’s wanted you to own. Wants to swallow it, have you rooted under his skin—
“Get on the bed.”
“No,” you rasp, grasping his wrist from between your thighs, bringing his fingers to your lips, tongue swirling before you release them with a pop. “Floor. Bed creaks.”
Another flash, another rumble—it allowing him to take in the expression spreading over your face. The calm, sleepy edge to your smile, all thanks to him. It sears into his skull, makes a home, and buries into a crevice he’ll never be able to scrape you from.
Least of all when you turn, shedding your clothes without aid—stripping himself as you busy ripping sheets to the floor, pillows scattering, a teenager's sleepover dream strewn across the carpeted floor. One he has you lay down on, sliding his mouth over the parts of you he hasn’t yet touched—lapped and enjoyed. Leaving a trail, a path of desire against your skin, your nails finding a home in his scalp, awarding him with gasps, small medals compared to the trophy of before.
“Wanna go on top,” you mewl, hand on his, pausing his hips from connecting with yours. “Wanna ride you, Joel.”
“Think you can handle it.”
It’s perfectly timed, almost comically, the way lightning sparks through the room—your glare more than sharp, digging into him, spacing out his insides until he’s nothing but bone.
He knows you can, but he likes taunting you. Enjoys the way your eyes lick flames across his skin, that your tone can be curt with him, gaze sharpened, pointing.
Joel likes being under you. Has a fondness for the weight of you on him and how your thighs feel on either side of him. Mostly, he likes what it says—what it gives you. An assurance you never ask for and he can never provide, because he can’t give you much, a lot, anything. He’s not good, kind or soft—he won’t trace three words against your shoulder and fan his hand out over your back as he tells you you’re a tempest on two legs, a thing which takes his breath, makes him crave, makes him want, makes him wish.
“You can do it—can take it, take me.”
“I know,” you bite back, lining the head of him at your slit.
It almost makes him snigger. That fury in you, that little determined flame that won’t ever be doused, becoming an inferno in your indignation. So, he whispers your name, fingers crawling up your neck, watching the space your bodies join as you sink down on him.
And he’s in awe as your pussy swallows him, inch by inch, the lightest hiss from under your breath caressing the air as your hips go flush with his.
“Feel good don’t it?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes closed, head rolled back fingers digging, half-curling into his stomach. “You always feel good, Joel.”
Your velvet wrapped around him, encasing him in warmth, all slick and needy. It tugs at him, and makes him for a moment feel like a man and not a carved-out monster who keeps fighting to live another day, for some reason or another. He supposes you wouldn’t let him have it any other way, would fight him and anyone else tooth and nail on it. You’re fierce like that, a difficult fucking thing he’s come across and now wishes to never lose.
“So big,” you whine in a whisper.
Lit up by the storm. It casts flickering shadows over your breasts over the muscles that contort as you roll your hips—if it lingered longer, he’d have been able to witness how wild your eyes were, how slick it is where the two of you are conjoined. Evidenced ruin, a sight he’d pull up in his mind when he’s alone, and you’re busy, and he pretends his fist is close to how you feel.
“Y’doin’ so well for me.”
Another flash grants him the chance to study your parted lips, the way your lashes hang over your cheek. It’s a sight, a fucking delight. An extra breath of oxygen and an anchor to keep him here all at once. A thing which didn’t cling, but had sunk its nails into him all the same—I’m not letting go, and you’re not going to ask me to.
You never say those words, but they hang—attached to string and bunting, a banner of sorts. One that isn’t wrong. A realisation that feels larger here than at the QZ. Surrounded by ornate white furniture and floral patterns, a room which has remained untouched, unspoiled—almost making him feel like a person he used to know. The one who he occasionally spots in the mirror, hanging back in his reflection.
It fucks with his mind. Makes him relaxed, and unwinds the stress from his bones as he plants his feet on the ground and rocks with you. Enjoys your moans, soft, bitten back but likely screamed in your head.
A thought beating inside him, all closed fists hammering on ribs: because he never thought he’d get attached to someone. Never mind someone who appears so otherworldly, likely created to threaten, but he finds only fascinating. A soul who unlocks things within him, finds a way through cobwebs and vines.
Someone who makes him wonder how passion and despair, adoration and darkness can all exist inside of him. Especially without losing the parts which he needs to live, to protect, to save—while keeping the parts that have you coming back to him.
He’s sure you see it, though. You understand him, having peeled back the layers in time and seen the decay which lives within his chest. You’ve even traced your fingers over his scars, ear close to them, as if they’ll spill all their secrets. Even without answers, you remain by his side.
It’s what makes this time different. So much so, he lifts your hand from his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. All tender, soft. Your eyes twinkle, shimmering with something—lit up again—before he places your hand back and rests his hands on your hips, aiding you, helping you ride him, until he has a better idea, a better thought—
His palms almost lift you off him, just the tip remaining as you hover. Digging his thumb and fingers into your skin, leaving indents he can trace when he catches his breath, and he latches his mouth in the space under your breast. Kissing, drawing a circle with his tongue, before he sucks, nips. Intentionally leaving a flaw, signing his name in a signature only he’ll be able to admire—a piece of evidence that this is real, you’re real. Knowing it will be there in the trek back to the life the two of you live; present when you strip off and change, a blight on otherwise perfection, put there by him—another ruin in your life.
Because you could do better than him. A fact he knows, has put to bed but still occasionally turns over.
I chose you because you don’t expect perfection, you’re happy with just good.
Except, you’re more than good.
Your fingers brush over his cheek, soft, gentle. Far too much of both in his opinion. Then he lowers you back down, pussy taking every inch, the lightest hiss fluttering over him as he stares up at you. Transfixed, lost. Almost able to live a fantasy, allow himself to fall into a dreamlike state.
Because this, right in this room, could have been plucked from the world before. It normal, could pretend the two of you were in a room in some inn somewhere or a bedroom the two of you would have built together—hand-chosen ornate furniture and pleasant knick-knacks that adorn surfaces, wooden frames with pictures he could imagine you’d fill if this was real, and not a break in the reality.
“This what you wanted when you were coming t'look f’me?”
He sounds drunk, intoxicated, maybe he is. Having drank from you for so long, he’s more you than he is rotten. He assists you as he snaps his hips to yours, burying the thought in his movements. But, he’s breathing you in—tasting the air tinged with the two of you as you both pant, hunger rearing, desperate, wanting to collide and spark out across nerves, muscles and fucking bone.
Yes, you chant. Yes, yes, yes.
M’close, Joel. So close.
It falls in breathless swirls, a juxtaposition to how tight you are around him, knotting perfectly at the base of him. Sucking him in, keeping him rooted, the head of him finding that spot that makes your body loose and boneless.
“Doin’ so good for me, my good girl.”
So he fucks you harder, uncaring if the floorboards creak, if they protest and shout, he has to. A thing inside of him commanding it. This is all he can give, so give, give, give—
He feels your nails dig, half-moons slicing in—a new scar, one he’ll be thankful to trace. Next is your thighs and muscles tautening. Then, that flutter, the one he seeks, desperate to own, his prize, no one else's.
Mine, mine, fucking mine.
And, distantly, he’s aware he’s the one who pulls you down, but he’ll tell himself later it was you. Trick himself that you required it, even if it was he who needed it. His mouth slanting over yours, clinging to your jaw and cheek, tongue swirling over the moan that is bestowed to him, that hits and fucking pounds into him. Unable to hold on, barely a handful of thrusts before he’s grunting into your mouth, spilling into you, pouring unspoken words to the place between your thighs as you grasp at the tufts of hair on either side of his face.
Something about it makes you taste sweeter. A man like him should never get to experience it now, not this version of him, the act more forbidden, prohibited. It’s what makes him want to spread you out on the floor, lick the expanse between your thighs, taste the two of you—clean you with his mouth and smear you across his face until he’s dyed with the two of you.
Instead, he grasps you close when you collapse against his heaving chest. Palm, all rough, blotched with death, pressing against your cheek as he kisses you. Knowing he should get up and clean himself from between your legs; knowing he should go back to his room.
But he wants to remain on the floor. Enjoying this, whatever the fuck it is. Hand stroking your arm, your fingers drawing shapes as your mouth parts from him, flicking a warmer gaze over him, before lying on his chest.
Stay. Because of the storm.
It’s barely that, just droplets of rain occasionally kissing the glass of the windows.
But in his head, he wants to pretend a little longer. Live in some make-believe land that this is your two’s house, he found it—safety, built ease into your muscles, allowed the callouses to rid from clutching weapons you shouldn’t know how to use. That it’s just a night where the two of you can’t sleep, rather than it being a night where the two of you just feel safe.
“Sure,” he replies in a gruff. “F’the storm.”
Sighing in contentment, rather than annoyance, even if he knows there’s so much suspended in the air—words not spoken or shared.
He almost thinks he could. Almost thinks the moment calls for it—a little whisper, a selection of perfectly chosen words that would wrap you in the knowledge you mean something to him.
But, he thinks you know.
Hopes it, anyway.
AN: shout out to G, who had to listen to me ramble about this two months ago. i hope, once you read this, it's worth the wait.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#tlou fanfic#hbo the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal characters fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller x female reader
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What Am I To You?
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.
“Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.
You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.
“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.
“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.
“I thought we were just—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.
Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.
As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.
“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.
“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.
“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.
He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.
“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.
“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy. He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.
“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.
“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.
“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.
“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.
“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.
“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.
“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.
“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.
“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.
“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.
Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.
“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.
“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?
“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.
“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.
“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.
“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.
“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”
“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.
“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.
“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”
His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.
“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.
“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”
“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.
“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.
“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”
“Everything.”
Finally, you gave him the right answer.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes smut#smut#mcu smut#marvel smut#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes
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|| notes: because I think this trope is always hilarious and also very cute
|| warnings: the Inner Circle (Mor and Cass) being nosy, fluff, Az and reader being silly and cute, alcohol mention
"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Azriel lately."
Looking up from the book you've been reading, you meet Mor's questioning look with one of confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"No," Mor protests, "I was just wondering."
You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her. There's an edge to her tone that you're not sure that you like, as if she's trying to get you to admit to something. "He's my friend," you say slowly, "and I like spending time with my friends."
Mor hums. "That's fair," she says, then drums her fingers on the table. "Speaking of friends, we're friends, right?"
"Of course," you agree. Where is she going with this? Had you done something to make her doubt your friendship?
Mor watches you carefully, weighing her words before she says them. "And you'd tell me if you were interested in anyone, right? Romantically, I mean."
The look you give her is equal parts suspicion and befuddlement. "Probably? Mor, what is this about?"
"Nothing, nothing," she reassures you hurriedly. "Listen, we're going to Rita's tonight. As in me, Cass, Nes, and Azriel." She pauses. "I think he'd like it if you went with us."
You close your book. "I'll go," you say, and Mor beams. "But what does Az wanting me there have to do with—"
"Great!" Mor chirps, pulling away. "We'll be leaving at eight!"
And then she's gone, leaving you more bewildered than you've ever been.
Your friends are up to something. You know that they are, considering Mor's behavior from earlier, and now their (Mor, and now Cassian) insistence that you sit next to Azriel in the booth.
"I can't pick my seat?" You ask, and Cassian shakes his head.
"Nope," he grins, and you throw Nesta a pleading look that she answers with one of quiet amusement.
"Okay..." Not that you truly mind sitting next to the spymaster, but it's made strange for the way Mor and Cassian are watching the two of you and sharing looks you're sure they think are subtle.
"[Name] looks nice," Mor prompts after a while, "right, Az?"
You blink as Azriel turns towards you, and the slow sweep of his eyes over you makes your cheeks warm more than the alcohol does.
"Yes," he says quietly, and your lips quirk when you catch his eye before you turn back towards your drink. Whatever it is that Cassian and Mor are looking for or trying to incite, you're not sure, but you don't miss the look of frustrated confusion the pair share.
Cassian rallies himself for another attempt at whatever it is they're up to, and you cut him off. "I think I'm going to head back," you say, apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "I'm tired."
Mor looks like she's going to protest, only to stop when Azriel moves to follow you when you slip from the booth. "I'll come with you."
You don't protest, but you also catch the pleased look Cassian and Mor share before you step out of Rita's. The night air is a little cooler than expected and when you shiver, Azriel steps closer. "Cold?"
"A little," you admit, and you don't protest the wrap of his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer.
Once you're far enough away from Rita's, Azriel speaks again. "Cassian is convinced that I have feelings for you."
You look up at him, finding him watching you already, coming to a halt. "And?" You prompt, raising an eyebrow, "do you?"
Azriel's eyes gleam with amusement as he leans down, meeting the answering upward tip of your head so he can kiss you. It's sweet and familiar, and you press to make it linger a little longer before he pulls away. "I think you know the answer to that."
"I do," you grin. "How long do you think it'll take them to realize that we're already together?"
Azriel snorts. "Longer than you think, honestly." He tugs you to him, enveloping you in his arms to ward off the chill of night. "I take it that you have feelings for me too?"
You huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I think you know the answer to that," you answer.
Azriel's lips meet the top of your head. "I do."
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— ✧ the cake in the back
pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.
genre. smut, fluff
tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe
w/c. 3.8k+
a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day
"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.
mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.
"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"
the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.
"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"
"you already know it."
grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."
"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.
"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.
seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.
the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.
you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.
realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.
"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.
"new apron, huh?"
shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."
seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"
you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."
"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.
"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"
"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.
"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.
"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."
"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"
"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."
when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"
"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."
you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.
the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.
"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.
seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—
seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"
"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.
there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.
you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.
"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.
you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.
"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.
"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.
a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."
now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.
you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.
again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.
wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.
the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.
seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.
"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.
with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.
"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.
"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.
there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.
it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.
and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.
fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.
"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.
the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.
parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.
"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.
and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.
"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.
it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.
"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.
"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.
you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.
"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.
"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.
"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.
you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.
'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?
"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.
"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.
"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.
the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.
which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.
what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.
and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.
"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.
and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.
"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"
"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"
and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.
how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.
gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"
"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.
as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.
a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!
tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)
#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups imagines#scoups x reader#scoups smut#seventeen imagines#svt smut#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#📝 writing
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Actually I go insane everytime i think about the fact that sam isn't in the tww past s4 and some brief appearances in 7
#i watched with my dad sometimes whenever he watched (and i couldn't tell characters apart for the first 4 episodes)#so my viewing experience is somewhat scattered (im rewatching it completely tho im only on s2)#he isn't my favorite bc i honestly dunno that i could choose a fave. like he is funny and a bitch and also a freak#he's close though#but like. how could i call him my fave when CJ is right there. or josh. or toby. hell even Danny.#anyways. i could never get into bailey (i found him boring iirc) and i just missed sam which definitely didn't help baileys case#Also. If i'm remembering things correctly. they never brought sam up again?? like for the most part he just wasn't mentioned even in passin#i found that weird#sam getting essentially guilt tripped into maybeeee possiblyy doing a campaign and assuming nothing will ever come of it#and then going with it anyway despite being able to get out of it is admittedly seems like a very sam move#ik the reason sam left is bc rob lowe got into some beef with sorkin or something like that. but i was disappointed bc there was definitely#foreshadowing towards sam being president. like wasn't there an entire episode dedicated towards it. him & bartlet playing chess?
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We always see Charles being more soft sooo Hb
Reader and seb are back home and Charles is racing and they send him some spicy pics and videos and he’s all pent up and frustrated and goes all dom
“Do you seriously think it’s funny sending me videos like this while I’m at work”
A/N: I should be asleep, but I'm jamming to Kpop and writing smut
You giggle as you watch Charles cross the finish line, fighting tooth and nail to get ahead of Max and winning the race. Seb was lying next to you smiling as his hand was inside your shirt and absently playing with your tits.
"Sebby, we should send him something," You whisper, which pulls Seb out of his trance and he smirks at you, nodding. "I think that's brilliant," Smiling you roll out of bed and run to your shared closet and searching for something that belonged to Charles, but also for lingerie that would match.
You come back out, wearing one of his Ferrari shirts and his favorite pair of black lacy underwear he loved peeling you out of with his teeth as he devoured you. Coming back to bed, Seb grabs his phone, knowing Charles would keep his close waiting for your messages of love and support.
"Lay down love," Sebastian instructs and you do, Seb positioning you so you could tell you weren't wearing a bra and hand your knees raised, it honestly looked innocent. Snapping the first pics you slowly would move your legs apart with each picture out you were spread out. "Should we take a video?" You ask, and Sebastian chuckles nodding his head in agreement.
"Yes," Hitting record you giggle and sit up as Sebastian messily films you taking off your top. "Fuck, Charlie, look at what you're missing right now." Seb's fingers come into frame and moves down your stomach and you arch up into his touch, shivering at his cold fingers.
"Seb, need you." You whine, it's pathetic how fast your partners can get you whimpering and begging for them. "Yeah, since Charles isn't here, should I be the one to eat you out?" He asks and you nod, which has him passing you the phone.
You turn it just in time to film the blonde curls going down on you, deciding to fuck with Charles some more you turn the camera to catch your face as you moan loudly and lewdly. Sebastian was good at eating you out, but Charles was something different and he prided himself on being the best at it.
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Charles swears he's ready to break his phone as he hears your loud moans, your shaking hand as you turn the camera back round to Sebastian lifting his face up all wet and lips red, licking them. "He should've been here not doing a silly race," Sebastian teased and Charles groans squeezing his hard cock, thinking about how much he going to fuck that mouth of his, and your pussy and making sure your both feeling him for days after.
He watches as he slowly pumps himself through his champagne and sweat soaked race suit. Watching as you gasp and shiver, Seb having going back down on you and from the looks of it was sucking on your clit while his tongue moves fast over your folds. "Fuck! Oh god," You shake dropping the phone and Charles groans as he tightens his hand and comes undone with you, not even caring about the mess he just made.
Closing out the video he clicks your name and waits for it, but obviously neither of you pick up, Sebastian was clearly giving you aftercare right now.
Voicemail. "When I get home you two, you aren't going to walk straight for a fucking week, touching each other when I'm not there? Both of you are such fucking needy sluts, better be ready when I get home babies, see you in three hours." Hanging up the phone Charles chuckles at their boldness. You'd both regret it.
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 one shot#f1 smut#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc blurb#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 smut#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel x reader
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🍋 - teach me
reader x matt
based on this request
summary: you're inexperienced, so you turn to your best friend, matt, to teach you a thing or two.
warnings: smut, oral m!receiving
word count: 1,791
author's note: sorry that this took so long to put out. my idea of writing a lot and scheduling posts didn't work out the way i wanted to. also, thank you to the person who sent this (my very first) request in!! i hope you like it :) keep sending more requests, i love getting them!!
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matt wraps his arm around your shoulders as you two settle down to watch a movie in your bedroom. you had invited him over for a sleepover, but it wasn't just to hang out. you had something to ask him that you had been thinking about for a while.
as he gets under the blankets with you, he senses your nervousness and glances over at you, a soft look in his eyes. “are you okay? you've been way quieter than usual,” he asks in a gentle tone. “yeah, i'm fine.” you pause before deciding to ask him the question that's been on your mind, thinking there may not be a better time. “there's just something i've been wanting to ask you.. sort of like a favour. you can say no if you're uncomfortable with it.. it's kind of a lot to ask. i just don't want things to get weird,” you nervously ramble on.
matt gives you a look of curiosity, clearly intrigued by what you're so nervous about. he takes your hand, his thumb softly tracing circles on the back of it. “it's okay, you can ask me anything.” “if you don't want to do this, just forget i asked, okay?” he nods and you take a deep breath before starting.
“you know how i've never really been with a guy, right?” he slowly nods, wondering where you could be going with this. you decide to just be upfront and say exactly what you want. “i want you to teach me how to give a guy head.” his eyes widen in surprise but he quickly recovers the soft smile that was on his face before. “oh yeah, i can definitely teach you. it's not a big deal. so, you just want me to explain it to you right?”
you hesitate for a moment. “no, matt.. i mean i want to practice on you. tell me what I'm supposed to do and i'll do it.” the slow circles matt was tracing on the back of your hand stop suddenly and he leans against the headboard, carefully considering what you said. he glances down at your lips, almost as if he's imagining how they would feel wrapped around his cock.
after what seems like forever, he finally speaks, “are you sure? i don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with.” you nod. “i'm sure. i always wanted my first time doing something like this to be with someone i care about and trust. it almost makes sense that it's you, i trust you more than anyone.” he smiles softly at your words, his heart warming at the fact that you're trusting him to be your first with an experience like this. he leans in close and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “alright, we'll take it slow and make sure you're comfortable. we can stop at any point if you need to.” “okay. thanks for agreeing to this. honestly, i didn't think you would.”
you move a little bit closer to matt. “what do i do first?” he clears his throat slightly. “first, you need to get me hard. we can do that by making out.” his hands hover over your hips. “can i?” you nod and he grabs your hips, moving you so you're straddling his lap. your breath hitches in your throat as you look down at him from this new position.
you slowly lean in, capturing his lips in a sweet, slow, gentle kiss to start off. matt's hands move up your back and into your hair, tangling in the strands as he deepens the kiss. he takes the lead and expertly slips his tongue into your mouth. you follow what he's doing, slipping your tongue into his mouth. when he pulls on your hair, it causes you to squirm a little and you accidentally grind down into his lap. a small groan escapes his lips. you repeat the action, knowing it feels good for him. his hips jerk up, pressing his hardening cock against you through your clothes. he groans into the kiss again, his hands sliding down, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “fuck,” he mumbles.
you stifle a gasp against his lips. you pull away from each other breathlessly and look into each other's eyes, almost as if you're realizing what you're really doing. without a moment's hesitation, you kiss him again, more passionately this time. you slowly roll your hips against his, getting him even harder. matt pushes you down while simultaneously bucking his hips up. he deepens the kiss while you grind against each other. you gain a little confidence and start kissing his jawline and neck, your hip movements not slowing down in the slightest. you eventually pull away, looking into his eyes as you move to grind against him one last time. “now what?” you whisper.
matt's breathing is ragged as he looks into your eyes. he swallows hard, trying to regain any composure and figure out what to say. “uhhh.. you can take off my pants if you're ready.” you nod and get off his lap, sitting on your knees next to him. you unbutton and unzip his jeans. he lifts your hips to help you out as you tug them down just enough so you have access to his boxers. you're still a little nervous so you don't pull them down quite yet, instead, gently touching the fabric covered bulge. his breath hitches as his hard cock throbs against the fabric at your touch. he watches as your hand explores him and he gives you an encouraging nod, signaling to you to continue whenever you're ready.
you slowly pull his boxers down until his cock springs free against his stomach. you part your lips as if you're about to say something but no words come out. it's bigger than you had expected. matt notices the look on your face and gives you a reassuring smile. “take your time, sweetheart. when you're ready, just spit on the tip. then wrap your hand around it and move it up and dow-”
you immediately do what he says, spitting on the tip and watching it trickle down the shaft for a second while his hips jerk at the warm sensation, a soft groan escaping his lips. you wrap your hand around him where the spit fell and you start slowly pumping it up and down, spreading your saliva around. he moans as he unintentionally thrusts up into your hand. “that's it, baby.. you're doing great.” you look into his eyes as you keep going. “what do i do now?”
matt bites his bottom lip, trying to focus on your question through the pleasure you're giving him. “now, you can try taking the tip in your mouth,” he pants out softly. you keep your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft while giving the tip a shy, little lick while looking into his eyes. he gives you a small nod of approval, so you continue teasing him with licks as you get used to the taste of him. once you gain some confidence, you swirl your tongue around the tip and start sucking on it a little as well. his breath catches in his throat and his hips jerk up involuntarily. “fuck yes, just like that,” he groans, “you're doing so good.”
you stop sucking on his tip after about a minute. you pause and look up at him. “do i just keep doing the same thing but further down?” matt nods, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “yeah.. just keep going like that. but when you can't take any more in your mouth, start stroking it with your hand like you were doing before.” you nod as you listen to him speak before doing exactly what he says. you take a few inches into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length slowly while working the rest of him with your hand.
he groans out in pleasure while his fingers tangle in your hair, holding it back in a makeshift ponytail. “fuck- you're so good at this already,” he mumbles as his hips jerk up again, forcing you to take him deeper in your mouth. you gag on his cock a bit as he unintentionally pushes your head down, pulling back a little. “sorry, didn't mean to do that,” he whispers while stroking your hair softly. you keep going, his moans encouraging you and telling you that you're making him feel good.
you soon realize that the more of matt's cock you have in your mouth, the better it feels for him so you try to take him as deep as you can every time you move your head down. you can feel the tip hitting the back of your throat and the sensation makes your eyes water. the tears mix with the mascara on your bottom lashes as they spill down your cheeks.
matt pants heavily, his eyes closing tightly as he feels his impending orgasm. “shit.. baby, i'm close,” he murmurs, tugging on your hair. when he tells you this, you take his cock as deep down your throat as you can. you feel it twitch in your mouth and you know he's going to cum any second now. his hips jerk up almost violently, pushing his cock deep into your throat as he cums. his hands tighten in your hair, holding you in place while he fills your mouth, shooting his load down your throat with a loud moan. you pull back, keeping your lips wrapped around the tip as you swallow the cum filling your mouth.
you pull away once you've swallowed every last drop that he can give you, his cock leaving your mouth with a soft, wet pop. you wipe the side of your mouth while looking up at him. “did i do good?” matt tries to catch his breath, his eyes remaining locked on yours. “fuck.. yeah, you did amazing,” he whispers, still a bit dazed from the experience.
you sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you wipe away any remaining tears on your cheeks. “thank you for teaching me. that was even better than i thought it would be.” matt tucks his now flaccid dick into his boxers and zips his jeans back up. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “no problem. you can practice on me any time you want.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head. you pull the blanket up over your legs and you start the movie you were going to watch earlier. you cuddle up next to him while you watch the movie and you eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.
------------------------୨୧------------------------
part 2
#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo oneshot
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I meant to go admire a frozen waterfall yesterday, but I'm scared of driving on slippery roads so I ended up abandoning my car and my dreams and just wandering about by foot, following random roads.
(These first two photos are a little bit blurry because I took them while walking, but it does give them a certain je ne sais quoi... They look like childhood memories)
The soles of my boots had zero grip and were therefore great for sliding, so I ended up taking two sticks and using them like cross-country skiing poles to propel myself forward on the iciest portions of the road. It was fun! Pandolf thought I was insane. He was being extremely prudent on the icy patches, testing each step:
At the beginning of our walk he was prancing as usual but then at one point his front paws slipped forward without warning, turning him into a very long slinky dog. It was pretty funny. I laughed. I admit. He wasn't hurt but definitely a bit vexed.
We did leave the icy road on numerous occasions, to slip under fences and cross promising pastures (promising = lots of footprints; potential friends.) We met several creatures! Like this adorable shetland pony—I tried to take a photo from afar, with Pandolf nearby for scale, to show how scandalously tiny he was, but that turned out to be impossible because he was too friendly. Every time I took a step back he took two steps forward. Clearly he thought he was even better-looking from up close.
We also ran into the darling goat I mentioned yesterday, and I was told by several people on here that she looked more like a ewe.
Sorry for the mistake! But also I tried to look further into this and became more and more confused, as every source that mentioned a foolproof way to tell goats from sheep was disproven by another source—I found one that said sheep had a split upper lip while goats didn't (and my mystery friend didn't), but then another website contradicted it. I ended up with 32 tabs open with photos of goats and sheep of all kinds, some of which looked downright bizarre (what's with the Jar Jar Binks ears), and I began losing my grasp on the concept of animal species altogether. I understood how Darwin must have felt when he tried to figure out the differences between species of barnacles and asked people to send him various specimens and ended up with giant teetering piles of wet smelly boxes full of barnacles in his study that threatened to collapse and bury him alive. Then I closed my 32 tabs.
Honestly ever since learning that some sheep have horns and some goats don't, I've been lost. Not to mention, our mystery girl had a sheep-like tail but a goat-like beard. Are there sheep out there with beards and if yes, how do we make sense of the world? We should be able to point at a mammal with a goatee and say "goat" without doubting ourselves. That's my manifesto.
Whatever she was, the goat-ewe was very sweet, and she baa-ed a lot—at first I thought she was making conversation and I politely baa-ed back, before realising she was calling her horse bodyguards, just in case. Two horses soon showed up from behind a tree, very "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"
I offered nose scritches to the friendliest of the two and she went to report to the goat like "We've neutralised the threat."
Let me insert another (blurry) photo of a travelling Pandolf to symbolise the passing of time before moving on to our last encounter:
... I also had trouble taking photos of this one at first, because she kept coming closer to inspect my scarf—I thought she wanted to explore my pockets for potential treats like Pirlouit often does but no, she was very interested in the smell (texture?) of my scarf specifically.
The sky had cleared as we went down from 1300 to 1100m, as if we'd slipped under the clouds, so I tried to take a photo of this nice late-afternoon sky, and the horse finally stopped focusing on my scarf and instead started insistently positioning herself between me and my beautiful landscape.
Look at this lovely golden light in the snow over there which I was almost able to capture!
Meanwhile her pasture mate was eating a whole broom plant, slowly and thoughtfully, which makes me jealous because my llamas are supposed to eat brooms and they mostly don't, they think they're too good for brooms. They eat the very young ones but not adult brooms, so I have to do the work of three llamas and cut them myself. I wish I could send the Pampses as interns in this pasture, to learn the art of brush-clearing from this wise old horse.
I tried to take one last landscape photo and gave up when the aspiring model came to pose again.
Where was Pandolf, you might ask? Pandolf doesn't trust horses, especially large farm horses, and was quietly and insistently trying to convince me to leave. When Model Horse tried to greet him (it looks like she's chasing him but no, she was just stretching her neck to sniff him) he beat a hasty retreat toward the icy road, his former enemy. Some guard dog.
It may sound like Pandolf didn't have a very fun time on this walk, slipping on ice and running from horses, but don't worry, he found plenty of suitable empty pastures to practise his favourite hobby! Though I think at this point he has moved beyond a hobbyist and is ready to play in professional leagues. He does this thing now where he jumps up a bit to gain momentum; I don't remember him doing this last winter. He's an entirely self-taught dog (in the art of snow diving) and I'm proud of him.
#crawling along#(* edit because the first sentence said 'today' but this was yesterday)#(i got distracted by my goat vs sheep studies last night and didn't have time to finish this post!)
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sick
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore
warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids
last part | next part
*
year two.
you:
can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it
"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'"
your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive.
you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?
you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru."
usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least.
"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning.
"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile.
"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument.
really, why do you put up with him?
"nothing."
"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..."
you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah."
"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?"
"no."
satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor.
but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask.
"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence.
you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?"
"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear.
"how?"
"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?"
"i don't think he wants to go with me."
"satoru," you whine.
"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore."
you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?"
"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days.
not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst.
"why?"
"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..."
"you mean that you swore them to secrecy."
"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds.
"with what?!"
"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat."
you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place.
"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep.
he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?"
you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you."
"rude."
"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."
you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...
"what? no."
"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed.
"he doesn't need to go..."
you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised."
"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think."
you're silent.
"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine.
your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--"
"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly.
"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--"
"don't die of the flu or anything."
and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too.
*
you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.
the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall.
because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.
once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open.
the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them.
"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.
"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything."
"'cause you're rich."
"wow, so you're objectifying me?"
"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you.
the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.
"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment.
yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them.
"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her.
"our idea," megumi amends, easily.
then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.
who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.
he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn."
you cough. "don't call them that."
he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there.
it's a new record.
"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.
"no 'hello?'"
"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?"
"you look kinda rough, kid,"
you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk."
"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment.
"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you."
satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness."
"and yet we're still stuck with you."
satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not.
you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"
"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--"
"no, he didn't!" megumi calls.
satoru frowns. "devil. spawn."
you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door.
satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off.
he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall.
it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded.
satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it.
you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?"
"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods."
"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?"
megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well.
"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in.
because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are.
"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her.
most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it.
she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.
"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are."
"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.
"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.
"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face.
"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag."
"thanks, megs."
"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--"
"strawberry!"
megumi rolls his eyes.
tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car."
"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here."
"when did you do that?"
"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses.
you laugh.
"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet.
tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?"
"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry."
"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away.
"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet."
satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?"
"you could've done better."
the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them.
and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long.
"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green."
"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with.
"i am a gentleman."
"ha. no, seriously."
"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have."
"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes.
and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm."
you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah."
"did you sleep all day?"
you nod.
"really? that's so lazy."
you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove.
"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick."
"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone."
"yeah, but..."
"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready."
"you'll burn it, you mean?"
"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose.
his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in.
when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!"
there's no response, but you know he'll do it.
tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under.
megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours.
your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here.
*
you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time.
it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts.
they're mostly okay.
but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing.
and then you look back to him, already scowling.
"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say.
"i told you--"
and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you.
you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children.
*
next part
#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#a typical family
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