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myfictionaldreams · 10 months

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Accidents Happen // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

Requested by: @theatrelove3000 (thank you so much for the message! I hope your eye is doing better and I hope you enjoy this fic)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hints of winter solider, minor injuries/reader is injured, protectiveness, possessive behaviour, anxiety, pool sex, butt plugs, anal/vaginal sex, double penetration, handjob, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, size kink, bucky needs a hug, mentions of murder, not beta read

Words: 6.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Making friends whilst being in close connection with the mafia was both easy and difficult. Easy because you meet hundreds of new people every month and difficult because many of them were dangerous and untrustworthy. On the rare occasion, a friendship would be created and even though you were busy nearly every day for the gang, you still attempted to spend time with them.

Especially on special days such as your best friend’s baby's birthday. You’d met Laura Barton through her husband Clint, whom you’d met through Natasha. The two of you instantly bonded over having partners in dangerous jobs and if you ever needed a break, she’d always welcome you to her home with a hot drink ready and the kids running rampant which was a great distraction.

Today, it was her youngest, Nate’s 2nd birthday so you’d spent the afternoon celebrating with cakes and toys with the family. By early evening, you were the only one remaining, finally having time to cuddle with the toddler who was playing with the plastic toy train that you’d bought him as a present.

“What time are you and the boys leaving for the hotel?” Laura asked in between bites of vanilla cake.

Your head flew back to avoid the wild swing of Nate’s tiny arm as he continued to play with the toy, making little noises with his mouth that made you smile. “Um, I think around 7, it’ll only take us half an hour to drive there but I can’t wait! Even though we are going for work, the hotel is stunning, and of course, Steve had to buy the best room, I think we’ve even got our own private pool”.

Laura’s eyebrows raised, letting out a low whistle, “They really do live a life of luxury. If they ever want to treat Clint and me to a weekend away any time soon I’d be forever in their debt”.

You laughed at your friend, “I’ll see what I can do”. Turning to look at Nate and poking the tip of his nose, “Do you think mommy deserves a trip away?” As you asked, you made the grave mistake of not watching his arm and there's one thing about toddlers, it was that they were surprisingly strong as he swung the train toy and accidentally smacked you in the face with it. “Oof, ok I’m taking that as a no”.

“Shit! Are you ok? Nate be careful”, Laura chastised to her son as she took him into her arms.

“It’s ok, he didn’t mean it, I’m fine”.

“You aren’t fine, you’re bleeding!” Laura was looking at you with wide eyes.

You were still slightly in shock, trying to remain calm to not scare Nate but you couldn’t deny it, your face was throbbing. Excusing yourself, you rushed to the bathroom and glanced into the mirror. “Shit, the boys are going to go crazy”. The toddler had managed to hit you right underneath your eye, the sharp corner had cut the skin and the surrounding area was already swelling and felt tender. Sighing to yourself, you cleaned the bleeding cut, thankfully it wasn’t deep enough for stitches and the bleeding had stopped already but with the location, you knew you’d probably end up with a black eye over the next day or so.

After you finished cleaning up, you spent a couple of minutes contemplating what the fuck you were going to say to Steve and Bucky. There wasn’t any way you’d be able to hide it with makeup and there wasn’t anything they hated more than seeing you hurt and you knew an overreaction was coming your way. Should you call them or tell them in person? At least in person, you could stop them from running off on a vengeance before you could even explain what had happened so decided you’d wait to tell them.

Leaving the bathroom, you found Laura waiting anxiously with the kids all playing in another room. She took one look at your face before mumbling, “Shit. Does this make me number one on the Rogers mafia hit list?” she joked but you knew she was also slightly serious.

Walking closer to your friend, you took her hands and grinned, even though the action hurt your cheek. “Not it doesn’t, it’s absolutely fine, the boys love Nate they’ll forgive him for anything. I should probably go through, face the music now rather than waiting around”.

You called Sam to pick you up and he text you once outside. Giving Laura and the kids a big hug, you reassured her once more that everything would be ok before leaving her house and walking down the path to the parked SUV with Sam in the driving seat. As you saw him, you waved happily, trying to appear as at ease as possible to keep the tension calm.

However, the moment you were close enough for him to notice the injury to your face, his smile dropped, eyebrows frowning as he hastily got out of the car, rushing to you. “Sam it’s fine-”.

“Who did this to you?” he asked urgently, hands cupping your jaw and tilting your face so he could examine your cut closely. Sam’s face was contorted into anger, something rarely displayed by your bodyguard and friend as he usually likes to be sarcastic and funny when around you.

Lifting your hands, you held onto his wrists, trying to pull him away but he held strong having not finished checking your injury. “Nate accidentally hit me with his toy train… A TODDLER hit me Sam so please relax”.

Thankfully he did. The tension in his shoulders eased as well as the frown on his face. Eyes still flicking across the cut, he instructed, “Tell me when it starts to hurt”. Carefully, he pressed his fingers across your face, inching towards the wound and you informed it where it began to be tender, so he knew just had big the injury was and how bruised it was beneath the swelling. It took a couple of minutes before he seemed somewhat at ease about the injury, finally looking away from the injury to look at the rest of your face before the corner of his lip turned up, “so a baby hurt you this much, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, gently pushing against his shoulder, “Yes! He’s stronger than he looks and yes, I am very embarrassed so please never bring it up again”.

Sam laughed as well, placing his arm over your shoulder and turning the two of you back towards the car. “Oh, you know I’m going to bring it up at any opportunity right?”

Rolling your eyes, you climbed into the car, pulling your seatbelt across your front as he did the same in the driver’s seat. “I could just have Steve or Bucky demand you to never bring it up again”, you suggested unseriously.

Sam’s smile faltered as he began to drive the two of you to the office, “I’m assuming you’ve not told either of them yet? Feel like we need to call everyone in to try and keep them both calm, they’re going to go apeshit when they see you”.

Sighing heavily, you had to refrain from wiping your face. “I thought about calling them but I know they wouldn't listen to me after I’ve told them about it so decided it was better to tell them in person. I just hope that it doesn’t ruin our trip away, I mean, maybe they’ll be calm because it was a baby, there will be no need to go on a vengeance tour of Brooklyn”.

Sam looked towards you with an awkward smile and that’s all you needed to see to know that was most likely not going to happen today.

Arriving at the warehouse, you tried to ignore the glances from other gang members when they noticed the cut to your face, a tension quickly building in the atmosphere which only meant your anxiety increased. You tried to smile at everyone to ease the nerves but it didn’t seem to work. It was only as you and Sam walked into the elevator and it was just the two of you did you release a deep, aggravated groan.

“I’m screwed aren’t I”, you say, glancing at Sam as he rolled up his sleeves like he was preparing for a fight.

“You aren’t screwed, I think you’re the only one who is actually safe”, he reminded you as the doors opened to the corridor to Steve’s office. The two of you walked at a slow pace, your head hanging low so that you didn’t see Steve and Bucky’s bodyguard waiting outside of the closed office door.

“Who died?” Natasha joked, seeing the solemn reaction from you both. Your head snapped up to her, about to reassure her that everything was fine but the words floated away as her grin instantly dropped at seeing your cheek. “What happened?” she asked in an authoritative tone, closing the gap with a single step, hands gripping your face much like Sam had.

Trying to keep your voice as steady and as calm as possible, you explained, “Little Nate decided the toy train had better use on my face than in the normal way”.

It took Natasha longer than usual to believe you, only accepting it as she glanced towards Sam who nodded his head and let go of your face. “Well… we’re all in for a long night then”, she joked but this time there was a hint of warning in her tone.

“Don’t say that, you should have seen what it was like downstairs”. You took a deep breath before continuing, “It’s going to be absolutely fine. I’m going to walk in there, explain to them that a toddler hit me in the face, let them have a little freakout and then we are all going to remain calm and continue with our trip away and it’s all going to be fine”. Niehter Sam or Natasha seemed convinced so you sighed once more, chewing on your bottom lip with nerves. Shaking your head, you rolled your shoulders to try and look as unbothered as possible, “I need to get this over and done with. If either of them leaves, could you follow them please and make sure they don’t do anything stupid”.

“We can try our best, boss lady”, Sam responded for the two of them, walking towards the office door and holding it open for you.

Taking a deep breath, you walked into Steve’s office, seeing both of them sitting at the large oak desk that was positioned in the centre of the room, laptops in front of them, face set with concentration. As your mouth opened to announce your arrival and quickly explain what had happened before they could freak, Steve’s eyes had already glanced away from his screen.

“What the fuck!” he growled, standing with such force his seat toppled over as he stormed towards you. “Who did this to you? What happened?” Steve was in front of you within half a second, his hands cupping your face, eyes full of a whirlwind of seething anger, worry and concern.

“Please don’t freak out, it’s absolutely fine, it was just an accident”, you managed to say as your face was turned in different directions by Steve as if the size of the cut would change but it remained the same. As Steve finished his inspection, Bucky was right there over his shoulder, eyes full of fury as he too checked the cut but then continued further past just your face.

“Accident or not, I’m fucking killing someone”, Bucky barked, lifting your arms and searching for any more injuries and it was only as he lifted the front of your shirt did you push his hands away and take a step back.

“Both of you just wait, please. Absolutely no killing is happening because it was done by a two-year-old” you emphasised, not sure if they were even listening as they crowded around you. Placing a hand on either of their chests, you tried not to concentrate on the pounding of both of their hearts beneath your palms as you explained. “I was sitting with Nate, he was playing with his toy train that he loves by the way. I happened to get too close and didn’t see him swinging the toy and it caught me across the face and let me tell you, that boy is strong!”

You grinned to show the humour, looking between Steve and Bucky, waiting for any sort of reaction from them. Both sets of ocean-blue eyes were flicking from your mouth to your injury and just as you were able to explain again to them, it was Steve who moved first by cupping your jaw with his hand, this time it felt more comforting rather than him assessing you.

“Right let me just make sure I’m understanding this, Nate hit you in the face with the toy that you bought him and caused this much damage?”, he tilted your chin as he finished his sentence to show off your injury more.

“Yes that is exactly what happened. You can check with Sam if you want. Nate is a lot stronger than you’d expect someone so small to be”.

Steve nodded whilst taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down but his heart was still pounding under your hand. Leaning down, he kissed your forehead, showing his understanding of the situation. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” he questioned, his blonde eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“It feels tender and bruised but only when I touch it and I can see the swelling out of the corner of my eye but otherwise it’s fine. I’ve had worse that’s for sure”, you tried to once again defuse the tension with a little joke but all it caused was Bucky’s jaw to tighten.

Steve noticed too and suggested, “Why don’t you go and wait by the car baby, we just need to wrap up everything here and we can start heading to the hotel

It was a simple idea but put you on edge with worry as Bucky had yet to say anything or snap out of the protective trance. Instead of arguing with Steve, you nodded, knowing that Steve could handle Bucky when he was like this and it was best to leave the two of them to it.

Stepping out of the office, you released a long heavy breath, now facing Natasha and Sam who were waiting in a stance like they were ready to tackle someone but relaxed seeing that it was you. Glancing over your shoulder, they were surprised when no one else followed after you. “Everything ok, Sugar?” Natasha questioned uncertainly.

“I’m not entirely sure. I think Steve’s ok but Bucky… he didn’t say a word to me. I think they’re having a talk so I’ve been sent to the car like a naughty child”. Sam chuckled, finally stepping forward and holding his elbow out for you to take.

“Well let then me escort you to the car m’lady”, he mocked and managed to pull a smile to your lips as you accepted.

It took nearly 45 minutes for them to finish whatever talk that needed to happen, and you’d hoped that Bucky would rush to the car but it was quite the opposite. He inclined for Sam to get out of the car and they spoke out of sight.

Sam wouldn’t be coming with you to the hotel, it was just supposed to be you and the boys so you waved to him in farewell as he climbed out of the car. Steve then slide in next to you, closing the gap in the middle so his body brushed against yours as you blinked up at him with a worried expression. Once again, his hand slide along your jaw as he kissed your temple. “You know I hate seeing you hurt”, he admitted against your skin before pulling back and looking at you with an apologetic gaze.

“I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you have to shut me out”, you countered, lifting your hand to stroke along his stubbled cheek.

“It doesn’t”, he contemplates. “But, I also don’t want you to see me in this state, the things going through my mind when I saw your face, I was just about ready to kill everyone in this building to find out what happened. No one hurts what’s mine”.

Your heart was thumping hard in your chest at his passionate declaration. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to push me away. I know you don’t want to see me hurt but accidents happen and if there was something wrong, you know I would call you immediately”.

Steve’s eyes softened, “Yes I know that now but, it doesn’t stop the panic that I feel when I see you’re hurt”.

Shifting even closer so that you could kiss his cheek, you continued, “I’m sorry for scaring you, it’s hard to tell you when these things happen, I don’t know whether I should call to prewarn or wait to see you in person”.

Steve’s lips lowered to yours, giving you a quick kiss to your lips, “We’ll figure it out”.

“What about Bucky?” you asked nervously.

“Buck might need a little more time, he’s still struggling to process his emotions”.

This did little to ease your anxiety, especially as the said man got into the driver's seat and didn’t say a single word to you, only glancing at you from the rearview mirror for a moment before beginning the drive to the hotel.

Steve easily managed to fill the silence with natural conversations which did little to distract you from the nerves of Bucky not talking. Even when the three of you arrived at the hotel and were shown to the penthouse where you’d be staying, Bucky didn’t say a word. After a quick tour of the breathtakingly beautiful surroundings which included a kitchen, living room area and pool that overlooked the city, you decided to go and freshen up.

After returning in a flowing dress that felt more comfortable than the jeans and shirt, you looked for the boys but only found Steve who was leaning against the kitchen island, staring at a spot in deep thought. “Steve?” this snapped him out of his trance as he instantly looked at you, standing to his full height. “Where’s Bucky?” you continued to look around but didn’t see him and by the look on Steve’s face, you knew you wouldn’t find him. “Where is he?”

“He said he needed a moment so has gone to the bar a few floors below”. Your shoulders dropped hearing this, feeling awful that he was struggling so much. “He’ll be ok sweetheart, he just has his own demons that he’s trying to fight with at the moment, you know the sort of headspace he gets into when you’re hurt”.

“I know but I haven’t seen him like this for a while, I guess I thought that side of him was over”. Sometimes when Bucky was overtly stressed with work, or needed to protect someone, particularly with regards to work, it was almost like his mind would shut down and someone else would take over. It was hard for him to deal with especially as he tended to get his emotions out violently when like this but as he hasn’t had an outlet today, he felt the need to separate himself from everyone. You knew he would never hurt you, even when he was like this so you asked Steve, “What floor is the bar on?”

Steve walked down with you and you both found him sitting on a stool in front of the bar with a very large glass of dark liquor on the bar in front of him. Steve decided to stay back and let you talk to him considering his talk earlier seemed to have done nothing to help him but reassured if you needed anything just nod.

As you walked towards Bucky, you thought about what you were going to say but your mind seemed to be completely empty of thoughts as you were so anxious you felt nauseous. Stepping next to him, he made no move to look in your direction or acknowledge your arrival and continued to stare forward. Every single muscle in his body was tense, eyes blazing with a look that you hadn’t seen in eyes like he was figuring out a way to murder everybody in the room. Your eyes flicked over his face, noting his jaw was so tense it looked like it was going to break. Unsure whether to touch him or not when he was like this, you said the only words that sprung to mind: “I miss you”.

Bucky’s entire body shifted, all of the tension seemingly melting away like a reset button had been pressed, as his eyes softened their glare as he flicked them to finally look at you. Seeing the change in him and drawing his attention, you reached across him to grip his metal hand, lifting it up to your face and reeling in the recognisable coolness of the metal against your uninjured cheek.

Turning to kiss the metal palm, you repeated, “I miss you Bucky”. There was even further relief when the pad of his thumb stroked across your cheekbone. Your boyfriend doesn't say a word, he didn’t need to as he stood from the stool, towering over you as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest, his face nuzzling into your neck, taking a deep breath against your skin which seemed to also calm him further.

You hugged him back just as fiercely, eyes squeezing tight as you clung to the back of his shirt, probably crinkling the expensive material but neither of you cared. After a couple of minutes, he finally began to pull back enough that your arms could wind around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him passionately, ignoring the ache in your injured cheek from the movement.

His hands clenched around your waist at the kiss until you pulled back but that was only so you could kiss his cheek repeatedly whilst whispering, “I’m so sorry I’ve scared you Bucky, everythings ok I promise but I need you to be here with me and Steve”.

Bucky didn’t say anything at first, his only response was a nod as his body continued to try and calm down from its heightened alertness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he said with as much passion as possible, “I’m sorry, I love you”.

“I know, it’s ok, I love you too Bucky, now let's go back upstairs and relax for the evening, ok?” he nodded his head in agreement, his hand clasped around yours as you pulled him towards Steve who smiled at the two of you.

In the elevator up to your floor, Steve turned to Bucky and placed a tender hand on the back of his head, pulling him roughly into his side, “It’ll be alright Buck”, he spoke tenderly into his ear before kissing him on the side of his head. The sight had your chest warming at the intimate show of support from the mafia leader but your thoughts didn’t dwell as the elevator dinged to indicate arrival to the penthouse.

The three of you opened a bottle of champagne and watched the sunset over the city before you decided that it was time for the pool and needed a moment to get ready. As you stood in the bathroom, you decided to continue with the plan that you’d had since you knew you were coming here. Of course, when travelling anywhere, especially somewhere this beautiful, you would want to be intimate with them both and you were hoping to take them both at the same time. So, you had decided to prep yourself a little bit with the use of your favourite butt plug and then when the three of you were ready, they could simply take it out and save the time of prepping.

It took a few minutes to work inside of you but you were happy to see the jewel gleaming from within your arse cheeks and then continued to dress into your swimsuit. You looked somewhat ridiculous with the stunning swimsuit and swollen cut to the face but it would have to do as you finally exited the bathroom.

Bucky turned to you first, hearing your footsteps as you approached the edge of the water but it was his raised eyebrow and deadpan expression that had you faltering. “What?” you asked, looking down at yourself and wondering what was out of place.

“Doll, seriously? We have our own private pool and you still think to change into a swimsuit?” Your cheeks warmed at the realisation that both Steve and Bucky were completely nude in the water and with a small smile, began to remove your own swimsuit which captivated Steve and Bucky’s attention, especially as you revealed your breasts.

As the material gathered at your waist, you turned on the spot so they were looking at your back, you bent forward to fully remove the outfit but it also gave them the perfect view of your arse with the butt plug on display.

“Fuck”, Steve cursed under his breath as he moved towards the stairs just as you began to walk over, holding out his hand for you to take and carefully descend into the water, being careful not to splash your face too much in the process. The water was the perfect warm temperature and it felt so relaxing to be almost weightless as Steve pulled you easily through the water you couldn’t reach the floor like he could, until you were near the edge, looking out over the city with Bucky on the other side of you.

The three of you huddled close together, your arms holding onto the edge of the pool, enjoying the ambience and serene moment of blissful quiet. However, Bucky couldn’t keep himself restrained for long as his hours of not seeing or touching you were beginning to get to him. Sliding behind you, his arms crowding you closer to the pool edge, his lips kissed delicately below your ear, moving south down your neck and to your shoulder. You tilted your head to the side to give him more room, releasing a soft breath at the tingling sensations his lips were causing, especially as his stubble brushed against your skin.

“You’re so beautiful”, Steve admired from beside you, his words making your cheeks flush with warmth at the compliment.

“Even with a black eye”, Bucky joked from where he was kissing the top of your back. You let out a shocked laugh, attempting to elbow him in the ribs but he easily held your arm away as he chuckled. The noise and joke were welcomed from him though to know he had calmed down enough from the initial shock of seeing you injured. “Could I make one request for tonight?” Bucky enquired, returning to kiss the pulse point on your neck.

“Yes?” you asked, already sounding a little breathless as you lazily moved your legs through the water, still holding your weight up by holding onto the edge.

“Don’t hold your noises in tonight, even though we are outside, I want this whole damn city to hear you”, Bucky grunted as he thrust his hips against your lower back, making you feel his considerably hard cock. Once again, your body warmed thoroughly at the thought of those a few floors below potentially hearing through their open windows but that also turned you on, knowing people could hear how much your boyfriends were making you feel good.

Nodding your head in answer, Bucky’s hands began to graze over your stomach under the water, stroking near your hip where you had a particularly sensitive spot that had you shivering and leaning further into him.

Steve’s hand cradled your chin, turning your face towards him where he began to kiss you desperately, his tongue immediately teasing the seam of your mouth to gain access that you granted instantly. You moaned as his warm muscle twisted with yours, loving the dominance of the kiss as he easily stood over you in the pool with his tall stature.

Bucky’s metal fingers then began to do their own exploration as they travelled between your legs, first stroking over your pussy lips, giving you a little warning for his next movement before he pressed more firmly until he was rubbing your clit. He moved in slow circles, and your hips jerked at the action, more moans rumbling from the back of your throat and into Steve’s mouth.

The blonde man pulled back first, breathing heavily as he instructed, “What I want you to do is take Bucky and after you cum, we’re going to fuck you at the same time, understand?”

“Yes, sir”, you automatically responded, your arousal aching in your core.

“Good girl”, Bucky praised as he shifted his position but continued to play with your clit as he moved. His lower half moved further beneath you so your body was moved a little out of the water, revealing your breasts to the cool air as you balanced on his body. The tip of his cock nudged against his fingers at the apex of your thighs, and with a flick of his hips, it moved to your hole. Even though you were in the water, he still took his time, being careful to not move too quickly as he stretched your cunt. Each inch that moved in had you gasping and moaning, grabbing tightly onto Steve’s arm that shot out to support your body from toppling forward. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well, Doll”, Bucky continued to encourage you as soon his hips were flush against yours which meant that he subtly pressed against the plug in your arse which only added to the heightened pleasure.

“Feels so good Bucky”, you say, closing your eyes for a moment to try and savour the feelings but then they snapped open as Steve began to squeeze your nipples. Your back arched into the touch, loving the twists and pulls he was doing to them that sent shivers straight to your centre which only meant that you kept clenching around Bucky.

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky finally began to move, slowing his fingers at your clit to match the pace of his thrusting. Each snap of his hips would cause the plug to be pushed and even his cock within your pussy was brushing against it, you already felt so full and you only had one cock in you. The motions increased as Bucky nuzzled into the back of your neck, the water surrounding the three of you splashing over the edge.

As you got used to the position and pleasure that was being pounded throughout your body, you felt aware enough to reach into the water and grip Steve’s throbbing shaft. It floated in the water and you could feel it bob at your touch as well as Steve’s very audible gasp. He always did love it when you pleasured him so even though Bucky’s cock and fingers were very distracting, you attempted to try and also make Steve feel as good as you felt.

“Fuck, I love the feeling of your hands on me baby”, Steve grunted, thrusting into your palm as you squeezed harder, moving up and down the shaft in time with Bucky’s cock. Steve’s eyes closed, head tipping back as he fell into the pleasure, but his hands never stopped with both supporting your upper half and squeezing your breasts whilst tweaking the nipples.

Bucky moved faster now, feeling your pussy clenching harder around him, his fingers swiping back and forth in firm motions. You didn’t even need to tell him that you were going to cum, from the feeling around his cock and the sweet moans escaping your mouth, he knew you were close. He fucked you harder which meant your hand moved faster up Steve’s shaft.

“Oh-God, yes!”, you chanted, eyes closed as you squeezed Steve’s cock hard as the pleasure took over you, Bucky not stopping his thrusts as you came, extending the length of your orgasm as he continued. All until Steve quickly cursed and grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from him did your pussy stop fluttering as you looked at him in worry. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, realising that you were probably squeezing too hard.

Steve chuckled, a light pink shade tinging his cheeks as he shook his head, “No baby, you were going to make me cum if you carried on like that”.

“Oh”, was all you managed to say as you felt proud of yourself for making him nearly cum so quickly.

Bucky laughed under his breath at your reaction, kissing the back of your head before easing his cock out and wrapping his arm around your waist so he could move you further away from the wall, giving Steve room to move in front of you. Both of your hands moved to his muscular shoulders, holding on as Steve pulled both of your legs around his waist, the waterline now at your navel.

Bucky's warm hand massaged one of your arse cheeks as he instructed, “Relax for me, Sweetheart”. You made sure to ease all of your muscles down as he gripped onto the butt plug and began to slowly pull it out. You gasped loudly at the feeling of your hole stretching around the toy before relief as it moved past the thickest part.

Bucky dropped the plug, declaring that he’d retrieve it from the bottom of the pool later and began lining up his cock at your asshole. You mewled into Steve’s shoulder as you felt the thick tip breaching your hole, the stretch was just as intense as the other hole but he moved slower this time, making sure not to hurt you.

“You’re so tight, shit”, Bucky groaned as you took his length, his hands flexing against your hips as you tried to adjust to him. After a long moment, you nodded your head against Steve and felt him moving his hips, the tip of his cock now penetrating your cunt, slowly but from the fucking by Bucky, it didn’t take you as long to adjust.

As they both were fully inserted into your holes, you let out a desperate moan, feeling so full it was nearly overwhelming. Your thighs were shaking in Steve’s grip around his waist and you wanted to speak to tell them how good it felt but your tongue felt heavy in your mouth so you told them through moans and mewling noises.

Steve moved first, pulling out a few inches before moving back in. Then Bucky copied his action. Both of your boyfriends fucked you, their thick cocks stroking against every single nerve and with the way your legs were wide and spread to be wrapped around Steve, your clit was brushing against his abdomen.

Your head dropped back against Bucky’s shoulder and you had to refrain from hissing as you accidentally brushed the injury of your face against his stubble. However, with the overwhelming pleasure that was being fucked into you, you didn’t vocalise the momentary discomfort and simply turned your face away so it didn’t happen again.

With how much you were being stimulated, it didn’t take you long to orgasm again, your body tightening like a coil around both of their cocks as waves of pleasure pulsed through you.

Bucky let out a deep groan and that was your only warning as he came suddenly, the feeling of your tight ass around his cock was too much for him and he was already so pent up from the day that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His balls emptied everything within them into your ass, his teeth biting into the junction between your neck and shoulder as he grunted your name over and over until there was no more cum within his body.

You shivered as he pulled out, wishing you had a camera under the water to see the cum seeping out and clouding the water slightly. Bucky’s hands moved to under your thighs, taking them out of Steve’s grip as he took your weight instead so that Steve could fuck you without any restraint.

With your eyes half-lidded, you watched as Steve leaned forward, one hand on your waist and the other on Bucky’s shoulder, using the two of you to help ground him as he continued to fuck your pussy. With the more sturdy position, he was able to fuck you as hard as he could with the water adding some restraint so that he didn’t hurt you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little crescent-shaped dents in the skin but he enjoyed the sparks of pain that came with it. “I want you to orgasm one more time for me baby, I know you can do it”.

You shouted out in pleasure at his words, hearing the desperation in his tone so you knew he was holding back from cumming because he wanted you to do it one more time. Steve fucked you, hard and fast, water splashing everywhere as Bucky continued to hold onto you tightly.

It didn’t take you long to cum again, especially as Steve dipped his head and began to suck on each of your sensitive nipples. By the time your pussy stopped pulsing around him and you were becoming entirely too overstimulated, Steve finally shouted and stilled his thrusting, his cock throbbing with each spurt of his cum as he filled you up.

The three of you took a couple of minutes to catch your breath and stretch your muscles from being in the squished position. “At least we’re in the water, don’t have as much of a clean up”, you joked as the cum mixed with the pool water. Bucky laughed before ducking into the water and returning with your butt plug.

“For you, hot mama”, he handed over the toy and kissed your cheek before helping you over to the stairs but swiftly picked you up with a steady hand at your back and under your knees. “Please tell me you two are hungry, once we’ve finished drying up, I’m ordering some room service”.

You groaned in a different sort of need from only a few minutes ago, your arms wrapping around his neck, “yes please, I’m starving after all of this activity!”

#mafia au #mafia stucky #stucky x reader #stucky smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut #marvel one shot #marvel smut #mine*

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evie-sturns · 3 months

Text

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 - 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤

summary: matt is having an anxiety attack, but chris and nick can't seem to calm him down, so they invite you over.

contains: mouth watering fluff, mentions of a anxiety attack, crying, swearing.

———————————————————————

i'm laying in bed, aimlessly scrolling on my phone as i feel my eyelids grow heavy, i put my phone down next to me as i pull up the blankets, closing my eyes. suddenly my phone lights up, buzzing nonstop.

i groan, picking it up,

its chris?

before i can open my messages chris calls me, i quickly accept it, putting it on speaker. "chris, its late are you okay?" i say into the phone, but i'm cut off by his franic voice

"you have to come over now, matt's having a panic attack, me and nick don't know what to do, you're the only one who can calm him down."

without another word i'm out of bed, grabbing matt’s pug stuffed animal which i recently brought him, pulling on a hoodie over my pyjama set and spraying myself with matts favourite perfume as i grab my keys.

"ill be over in 5 minutes, ill be as fast as i can." i say, worry present in my voice as i hang up.

i rush out my bedroom door, pulling on my uggs as i unlock my front door.

i sprint towards my car, climbing in and instantly pulling out of the driveway. i try to call matt as i drive, but he doesn't awnser. my heart thumps as i turn into the sturniolos street. i park messily before leaping out, running up to the front door.

nick lets me in, he looks distraught, i give him a quick hug before walking down the hallway, approaching matt's room.

his door is locked.

i knock one more time, but again i'm met with no response.

"matt? please let me in sweetheart." i say, keeping my voice calm and low. i hear shuffling in matts room before the door unlocks, i push it open slowly.

im met with matt, his bottom lip quivering, his shoulder slouched and his eyes watering.

my eyebrows raise in a sorry, "oh matt.." i say slowly before walking in, shutting the door behind me as i pull him into a hug, he doesn't really hug back, his arms just hang at his side.

matt and i have been dating for 5 months, he's only had one anxiety attack which i was out of town for, i'd only seen him cry a handful of times, and it was never for long, it was always just a few tears.

"come on, come lay down yeah?" i say softly, sitting down in his bed, my back pressed against his his headboard as i pat the spot next to me, matt flops down, his body shaking ever so slightly, he rests his head on my lap.

a silence grows in the room before its broken with a loud sob from matt. my heart drops. my throat burns as matt starts to cry. "oh baby." i say, reaching my hands into his hair as i start to play with it soothingly.

"please talk to me whenever you feel even a little better okay?" i say, my voice barely audible. his tears paint my pyjama shorts.

"you're doing so well matt. let it out for me."

i lean down, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, which is damp, but it doesn't bother me at all right now.

"im sorry." he says in between shaky cries.

"matt." i say reaching my hands down and hold his body, "dont say sorry, this is the least i can do okay, i love you so much." i say, squeezing his side tighter.

after a few more minutes his sobs become lighter, he takes a deep breath before starting -

"its just everything, i’ve got no privacy left, it’s just so much.. pressure.” he says, his voice shaking with each word.

“i know matt, but so so many people love you, i love you, your family loves you and your friends love you, your fans love you and everything you do, that’s why you’re feeling pressure ‘cause you don’t want to disappoint them, you think?”

i assure him, he sits up slightly, resting on my chest.

matt nods before he sits up fully, moving his body around to face me on the bed, tears present on his face. i reach two hands out, wiping his cheeks with my thumbs before holding both sides of his face.

“i’m so happy to have you matt.” i say, wiping my hands on my sweater. i lean towards him, placing gentle kisses all over his face.

“don’t make me cry again y/n, i don’t deserve anything you do.” matt says, a warm smile spread across his face.

suddenly my face lights up

“oh shit wait!” i say reaching into my pocket, pulling out a small pug stuffed animal, i hold it up proudly “i got you this, it was really reminded me of you when i saw it.”

matt’s jaw drops.

“no way! oh my god.” he says, lunging towards me and tackling me in a hug. he pecks my lips multiple times “thank you so much what!!” he smiles, pure joy spread across his face.

“you’re so cute matt.” i laugh, cuddling him.

me and matt both dozed off around an hour ago, but i’m woken up by chris and nicks whispers, they’re both standing in the door, staring at us as matt holds the pug tight, his eyes shut and soft snores leaving his mouth.

“how the fuck did she do that.” i hear chris say

“do what?” nick says, a smile on his face.

“what do you mean ‘do what’, she’s only been here for like 2 hours and she’s turned matt from a emotional wreck to a fucking peaceful sleeper, look he’s even holding a pug toy!”

———————————————————————-

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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theemporium · 5 months

Text

[3k] the season is over but the marriage remains. max starts to see little leclerc in a light no one in the world has ever seen before. and daniel is stirring the pot because he is bored. but in a concerned way, obviously.

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“When did you say he was coming?”

“Maman.”

“Sorry for being excited to see my son-in-law.”

“Ugh, don’t call him that.”

“That’s what he is, Charles. Grow up, please.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort as you watched the way your brother argued with your mother, both on very different sides of the spectrum as you awaited Max to show up. Despite his best attempts, whatever plans Charles made to try and ruin the dinner, Pascale would always be one step ahead of him, leaving the boy pouty by the time six o’clock was approaching.

And whilst you knew your mother would be excited to meet the man you impulsively—and drunkenly—decided to marry in Vegas, you hadn’t expected her to reach this level. You don’t think you had even ever seen her take Christmas dinners to this level.

The fancy plates and cutlery had been taken out of the kitchen cupboard you and Arthur were forbidden from opening, and you had spent all morning polishing them with Lorenzo. Pascale had been running around the house like a headless chicken, as though Max would step into the house and notice the specks of dust on the top of the bookshelves and doorways. Charles had been sent out the house on a goose chase that you indefinitely knew was your mother’s way of preventing him from poisoning any dishes. And Arthur was sent along with him for good measure.

And when the clock hit five, she had practically ordered each and every one of you to put on something presentable and nice before the guest of the night arrived.

Truthfully, it felt like a funny fever dream until you were sitting in the living room, fingers tugging on the hem of your dress as you tried to fight the pit of anxiety in your stomach.

You hadn’t spoken to Max since earlier that morning. He had tried messaging a few more times: first asking what caused the sudden shift in tone, and then to ask for opinions on different bouquets. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to either.

You were angry. Not at him. Never at him, You were just angry at yourself. You were angry for letting such a small, meaningless comment get in your head. You were angry that you were taking your emotions out on Max who was clueless and didn’t deserve your sudden cold shoulder. You were angry that despite logically knowing all of this, the sight of his contact name and the mere idea that he was going to be in your house in the next few minutes didn’t help the pit in your stomach.

You tried to focus on Charles’ tantrum. You tried to focus on the jokes Arthur kept making to wind him up. You tried to focus on the way Lorenzo was calmly trying to persuade your mother to put the photo albums away before Max even arrived.

You tried to pretend you were okay when you were far from it.

“I want all four of you on your best behaviour,” Pascale told each of you as she anxiously glanced over at the clock, practically vibrating on the spot as the big hand neared closer to twelve with each passing moment. “No nonsense.”

“That means no sneaking away to make out with your husband,” Arthur teased, only to let out a wince when Charles slapped him across the back of his head.

“There will be nothing of the sort,” Charles grumbled, only to let out a wince when Pascale slapped him across the back of the head.

“Don’t hit your brother,” she said in a stern voice before adding. “And stop being such a buzzkill towards your sister.”

Charles rolled his eyes.

Pascale opened her mouth as though she was going to continue scolding her middle son, only to be cut off by the sound of three knocks at the door. Her face instantly lit up as she clapped her hands together, grinning widely as she rushed towards the door.

Maybe it was the anxiety or maybe it was something else, but your chest tightened when the door swung open and you saw Max on the other side of the door.

He arrived right at six on the dot, though you guessed the punctuality didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the lack of Red Bull merch. It was stupid to think he would have worn it to dinner, but then again, he had worn it to plenty of other events shamelessly so you never knew what to expect.

But no. Instead, Max stood in the doorway in black sweater with the collar of his white shirt sticking out the top. He wore dark jeans that didn’t look like they were painted on (a miracle) and he held a large bouquet of peonies that were the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen in your life.

“Mrs Leclerc,” he greeted her with a charming smile on his face as she opened the door. “Thank you for inviting—”

“Oh enough with the formalities!” She laughed before she brought him into a hug, the act clearly catching the boy off-guard if the wide eyes were anything to go by. “We are family now. Call me Pascale.”

“Oh. Right,” Max murmured, expertly keeping the bouquet to one side as he wrapped his other arm around the older woman. “Uh, these are for you.”

“My favourite,” she said with a genuine smile when she pulled back to take the bouquet from his hands. “What a gentleman you are, Max.”

You could have sworn you saw a light blush spread across his cheeks.

“Please, come in,” she ushered him in as she closed the door behind him. She turned on her heel, her smile still so wide, it was almost concerning. “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready.”

Max nodded his head in thanks and turned to look at the others in the room. But his gaze completely missed your brothers and landed on you, something in his eyes shifting as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something.

But you were already up and out of your seat before he could say a single word to you.

“I’ll help bring the food to the table, Maman,” you said suddenly as you rushed towards the kitchen.

Arthur only snorted in response. “Trouble in paradise already.”

...

“You’re ignoring me.”

You almost jumped out of your skin, the phone that was previously in your hands now clambering onto the counter. You pressed your hand to your chest, the feeling of your wildly beating heart thundering under your skin as you tried to clear your throat.

“No, I’m not,” you denied, though you hadn’t turned to look at him.

Max raised his brows. “So you’re just hiding out in the kitchen when the rest of your family are outside for no reason then?”

“I’m not hiding out. I was checking on the chicken,” you said aimlessly, your cheeks heating up under his intense gaze. But still, you kept your eyes on the counter and the random dishes of food rather than the Dutchman who taking a few steps closer to you. “And I was texting Yuki. He was having some marriage issues so—”

“Guess you can relate then,” Max deadpanned.

Your cheeks burned warmer. “You should head back out to the party, Max.”

“At least fucking look at me,” he whispered, something almost pleading in his voice.

You weren’t used to it with the Dutchman. Even from a young age, Max was oddly self-assured and confident in what he said. The media said he was rude, but he was just blunt. He knew what he wanted to say. He didn’t sound apologetic when he said it. And he certainly didn’t sound so distressed when he demanded things.

And yet here he was, the three time world champion who had never sounded so desperate and anguished before in his life, just aching for you to lift your head.

You swallowed the ball lodged in the back of your throat before slowly turning your head to find Max a few steps away from you. He looked oddly concerned and maybe that’s what really caught you off-guard. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—maybe some annoyance or some anger—but it certainly wasn’t this.

His brows were furrowed together, the crease between his eyebrows deeper and more prominent than you had ever seen it. He looked a little lost and bashful, like for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know what to do with that piece of information.

Max Verstappen had never looked so hopeless.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he spoke in a soft voice, and it didn’t help the pounding in your chest.

“Nothing is wrong, Max,” you said to him, and you tried to flash him a smile. But it was strained and wrong and he hated the look of it on your face.

“Don’t bullshit me. You said this marriage wasn’t going to work if I wasn’t enthusiastic, well it won’t work either if you lie to me,” he said in a slightly more firm voice, and this time he took another step towards you. “Tell me what I did.”

Your chest tightened again. “Max—”

“Was it the comment earlier?” He continued, that pleading note in his voice so loud and clear again. “It was a joke, I promise you. I’m not ashamed to be married to you. I could never be ashamed of you.”

“Max—”

“Yes, I know the circumstances of our marriage are a little unconventional and a little inconvenient too but,” Max’s hands rested on your upper arms, the touch warm and overwhelming but you didn’t think you wanted him to let go of you just yet. “If I had to marry someone in Vegas, I am glad it’s you.”

And it hurt.

It hurt so fucking bad that the boy was standing in front of you, laying himself on the line and blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. It hurt because no matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth and tell him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that his agreement to your comment struck a nerve. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were feeling stupidly self-deprecating when you made the comment in the first place and his response just felt like he kicked you when you were down.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the countless articles. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the comments made throughout your life, throughout your brothers’ careers, throughout your own career.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that he had practically chained himself to a PR manager’s worst fucking nightmare with no way out any time soon.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of it. Not when you hadn’t even confessed half of your feelings to the people in the other room. Not when a part of you was scared he would agree with every single fear that laid lingering in the back of your head.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you finally managed to say, and something quite like relief washed over the boy when he realised you were actually answering him, that you weren’t going to run off and hide in another room like you had done before. “Just…it was something else that upset me. Not you. I promise. You did nothing wrong, Max.”

The concern returned. “What upset you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you said simply, and you were grateful enough that the boy dropped the topic—even if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “We have a dinner to enjoy. It’s not worth ruining when Maman has spent all day making sure Charles didn’t slip some arsenic into your soup.”

Max snorted, shaking his head. A few beats passed before he squeezed your arms slightly. “We’re good?”

You smiled. “We’re good, Max.”

He nodded, seemingly pleased with that response as he let out an exhale. “Good, because now you can come out and help me. If Arthur makes one more sex joke, I think Charles might serve my balls for dessert.”

You snorted. “Maman would have his balls on a plate first if he tried to ruin the dinner itinerary she set up.”

...

“Can we talk?”

Max paused what he was doing, the pile of dishes sitting in front of him from where he was trying to help tidy up after dinner moments ago. Despite Pascale’s insistence that he was a guest who didn’t need to assist, Max still found himself joining the oddly domestic dance of working around the Leclerc’s to clean away the table and take everything back into the kitchen.

He could hear you and Arthur giggling in the other room, quickly followed by soft scolds from Pascale—the kind where you could still hear the smile in her voice. He could hear Lorenzo stepping outside for a phone call, his voice muffled by the balcony whilst Arthur made some joke that he was probably going to throw himself off after watching his baby sister make heart eyes at her husband all night. That was followed by another scolding from Pascale.

There was an odd sense of contentment deep in his chest as he collected the last of the dishes on the dining table when he heard somebody step into the room, expecting it just to be Pascale or maybe even you.

He wasn’t expecting Charles.

“Uh, yeah,” the Dutchman muttered, shifting around so he was facing the boy instead. “What’s up?” He almost cringed at his own words the second they left his mouth.

“Tell me this isn’t a tactic.”

Max paused, wondering for a few moments if he had heard the boy correctly. However, Charles didn’t seem to repeat himself as he stood there on the other side of the table, staring blankly at the Dutchman as he waited for his response.

“What?”

“Tell me that this whole thing isn’t just some ploy made up by Red Bull,” Charles said, his face remaining straight as he spoke.

“What is a ploy? This dinner?” Max questioned, utterly baffled by the words leaving his mouth.

“I need you to tell me whether you are just messing with my sister as some weird, twisted way to get to me,” Charles said, his arms crossed over his chest. “I need you to tell me if this is some fucking game to you and your team.”

And Max’s stomach churned at the allegation.

He thought this was all planned. He thought Red Bull had sent him out like a spy to get involved with the Leclerc family and exploit them. He thought this didn’t mean shit to Max beyond a mind game to assure him the championship next year.

And the worst part was that Max could see why he would think that. If there was anyone who risked being his biggest competitor on track—car aside—it would be Charles. Not his own teammate. Not Mercedes. Not McLaren. It would be Charles Leclerc, like it had always been when they were younger.

It had always been Max Vertsappen versus Charles Leclerc. And it always would be until the end of their careers.

For Charles to assume it was one thing. But for Charles to actually believe Max would go through with something like that? To agree to such a plan?

The Dutchman couldn’t deny that it really fucking stung. It fucking stung that Charles assumed the worst of him—even if it was to protect his little sister—and it fucking stung to wonder if the other Leclerc’s assumed the same.

“Charles,” a disbelieving scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “I would never—”

“Because I don’t give two fucks about a championship if you are messing with my sister,” Charles interrupted. There was a rage in his eyes, a rage he had never witnessed in the boy before—not even during his worst races. “She cares deeply about people. She loves hard and fast. And if you become one of those people and break her heart?”

Max didn’t say anything.

“There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her,” he said in a softer voice, but the underlying threat was still clear. “And there is nobody I wouldn’t hurt if they hurt her.”

“This isn’t some mind game,” Max said to the boy, because he didn’t think the boy would believe anything else he said. “Vegas was a mess, I know that. But I would never do something like this. And I would never bring your sister into our rivalry or on-track business.”

Charles’ jaw clenched a little, like he was contemplating whether he believed Max or not.

And for a few moments, Max wondered what would happen if he confessed his true feelings. He wondered what the Monagasque would say if he learnt that Max had spent the better part of their early careers either trying to beat him in a kart or ogling his sister. He wondered what Charles would think if Max told him he was almost pretty sure his little sister was his first love, even when they didn’t have a proper conversation until Charles finally joined Formula One.

Max wondered what Charles would think if he knew the truth.

But now was not the time nor the place to tell him. To be completely honest, Max didn’t think it would ever be the time or place to tell him. He didn’t think he would ever confess that to Charles, he didn’t think there was any reason to. There was only one person in this world that deserved to hear his confession, but Max would rather throw himself in front of the RB19 before he told you how he felt.

“I swear on my life, my cats’ lives and my mother’s life,” he added after a few moments, watching as the boy’s shoulders sagged a little like he finally realised Max was telling the truth.

“Good,” Charles nodded, pausing for a few moments. “I mean everything I said. For as long as it takes to sort out this mess, if you even upset her once, I swear to God—”

“Image loud and clear, Charles,” Max assured the boy with a single nod of his head.

“Good. Remember it, Verstappen.”

And with that, he left the room and left Max staring blankly at the pile of dishes on the table, a dull ache in his chest that he wasn’t really sure how to ease.

...

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 372,933 others

yourusername breaking news: max verstappen does wear something other than red bull merch!!!

view all 17,932 comments

landonorris how much did you have to pay him to wear it?

danielricciardo he had a bit of a tantrum before he left the house but i promised him two bedtime stories

maxverstappen1 you both suck

user OMG THE DINNER ACTUALLY HAPPENED

user meeting the in-laws!!!

user okay but those flowers are so pretty???

pascaleleclerc it was lovely having you, max! we must make these a regular thing!

charles_leclerc MAMAN???????

user this is my roman empire fr

user i need to know how close charles was to poisoning max

arthur_leclerc so close

maxverstappen1 i do own other clothes. you've just not seen them yet

yourusername is that an invite, mr verstappen?

oscarpiastri there are children on this app. please.

yourusername what children

logansargeant ME! I AM CHILDREN! THIS IS HORRIBLE!

yourusername grow up

user this is everything i needed and more

user okay but when do we get the solo max and little leclerc dinner date?

yourusername i would like to know too. my husband is lacking

maxverstappen1 maybe i'll wear my red bull polo

yourusername i take it back, i don't want to go out to dinner with you

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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zeltqz · 5 months

Text

having rindou as a clingy, needy fwb

content: safe sex, sexting, suggestive pics, rindou is a horny guy, needy guy, clingy guy, implied possessive rindou, fem!reader

a/n: ive been so inactive im so sorry guys i feel so bad :( uni has been literally kicking my BOOOOOTYYYY anyway enjoy this quick one shot with rindou :))

He’s bold.

You set the shopping bag down on the floor by your bed and began to unpack its contents, ready for a mini fashion show in front of your mirror when your phone chimed by your bedside table.

You were halfway with taking your top off when you heard the buzz and walked over to it and grabbed it.

rinnn wyd

You smiled at his random text message, eyes trained on your screen as you sat backwards onto your bed and texted back.

you Just came back from shopppinggg

Setting your phone down, you’re about to stand back up to head towards your mirror when he responds at lightspeed. Oh he must be so bored today, you snigger and decide to text him back.

rinnn What you get?

you Cant tell you thattttt Too personal

rinnn What was it? Lingerie?

you Oh um

rinnn No way. Pfft yeah right

you WHATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN????

rinnn Nothing i just cant see you in that at all

you Well its true

rinnn Sureeee Lemme see it

you Ok wait one second

You stand up from your bed and walk over to your bag, grab the lacy bra and matching panties set and place it flat on your bed. It took longer than a second to snap the photo as you wanted it to look perfect and presentable so you spent longer actually wiping stray crumbs from your bed, closing your curtains to get perfect lighting, straightening out your bedsheets in order to get the perfect photo.

Once you were pleased, you hopped back onto your bed and sent the photo to Rindou. As expected, since it took longer than you said to send the photo he went offline and you huffed impatiently. Ten minutes later your phone was buzzing and you zoomed for it eagerly, only for your smile to fade when you saw his response.

rinnn Thats not what i meant

you WDYM?????

rinnn Did you get it for your boyfriend?

you You know damn well i dont have a boyfriend

rinnn Lmfao i know. just checking

you what???

rinnn Show me the fit tho

you I did

rinnn Put it on

you oh…OHH Sure okay…

You weren’t expecting that at all honestly. Yet the idea of putting it on for Rindou weirdly turned you on. You bit your lip and stared down at the lacy material laid on your bed and slowly began to strip off your shirt and bottoms. Once it was on, you quickly walked up to the mirror and examined how it looked on you.

It was the cheapest matching set available in store and you weren’t rich by any means so it’ll have to do. You quickly grabbed your phone and snapped a photo of you standing in the mirror.

The photo was horrible. You were stiff, awkward and you accidentally took the photo in the middle of blinking. You wanted to cry but you couldn’t find the confidence left in yourself to retake it, so you cropped your face out and sent the photo to Rindou without a second thought.

It all happened so quickly that you failed to realise the gravity of what you just did until you saw Rindou read the message. Your eyes widened and you tossed your phone across the room, flopping instantly onto your bed and thrashing between the sheets for a minute or two to let your frustrations and anxieties out.

It was the first time you ever sent someone intimate photos and you made a promise to your younger self that you’d wait until you were in an official relationship to do that. But here you were sending them to your best friend just because you wanted his approval for reasons that were beyond you.

Your phone buzzed minutes later and you peeked an eye open at your phone from across the room, took a deep breath then reached for it.

rinnn Damn u look so sexy right now

you Lol stop Thank you tho

rinnn Send another

you Desperate much?

rinnn Coming from the girl buying lingerie for herself

you Nothing wrong with that :( But fine wait

You feel exceptionally giddy when you stand up from your bed, your confidence rising back up in copious amounts as you waddle towards your mirror. This time, you recorded a short video of you from side to side, showing off your assets as seductively as you possibly could before sending it to him.

His response only spurs you on even more.

rinnn Would u kill me if i was hard rn

you Probably yes Flattered, but yes

rinnn How would u kill me?

you Choke you maybe. Or like suffocation and prolong it as long as i can

rinnn With your thighs? I wont mind that

Your face flushes as your thumbs freeze over your keyboard.

you OML YOURE SO HORNY I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

rinnn Thats how i took it

you Yeah i know, you weirdo

rinnn How would you suffocate me though?

you With my hands duhhhhhh. Actually maybe a pillow. More surface area.

rinnn You’ll be on top of me?

The image of you on top of him with your hands around his throat plagued your mind and you were lost for words for the third time tonight. It didn’t even occur to you that you were sexting your best friend.

you If that's how you want to go out then yes

rinnn It is

you Then i will

rinnn Good

You This escalated so fast Goodbye rindou

He’s needy.

His phone is ringing.

Rindou’s phone is ringing whilst he’s on top of you, lips kissing and sucking your soft skin just under your jaw as his cock thrusts slowly into you. Your hands are playing with his hair, running your fingers through them, scratching at his scalp when his cock reaches that spot inside you with enough force to tease, not satisfy you.

You’d been begging him to go rougher, want to hear the loud slap of his hips against yours but he’d been so adamant on taking his sweet time, like his phone hasn’t been ringing for the last thirty seconds.

“Rinnnnnn,” you grumble irritatedly, the soft strokes you were doing on his hair now turned to a full on tug , as harsh as you could, with enough force to completely still his lips on your neck.

He pulls away from you and lifts himself up onto his arms, looking down at you with a peeved expression on his face.

“What.” His hips still don’t still, thrusting ever so slightly into you but keeps on managing to hit that spot regardless and see your eyes roll as you bite down your lip to stifle a moan.

Unlinking your arms from around his neck, you try to reach over to the bedside table but your arms are too short. Grumbling, you try to shift and Rindou just stills entirely, watching you grab his phone that was face down as it rang continuously for the last minute.

Missed call: Dad

Your eyebrows raise as you read the contact and turn the phone towards Rindou. He clicks his tongue, irritated your attention is off him and grabs the phone.

“It’s just my old man, who cares?” He tosses the phone backwards on the bed, this time you can’t reach it if it rings again and his thrusts restart, slowly rolling his hips into your core.

“What if it's important?” you mumble, your voice shaky when he relowers himself on you, kissing your lips softly. “Rin—” Your words keep getting swallowed by his lips and he doesn’t stop kissing you until you finally give in.

He grabs onto your hand and lifts it, nestling it on top of his head and moves your fingers to play with his hair. You got the hint and began stroking his hair again, loving the way he hums into your mouth whenever you tug at his hair.

You were finally submitting to him again, his phone long forgotten in your mind and he grins before pulling away from the kiss to reattach his lips back onto your neck, adding more to the marks he left on your neck prior.

“Rin faster please,” you whine, trying to lift your hips to feel his cock deeper inside you but he’s quicker. A firm hand pressing down on your hips to keep them flat on the bed.

“Stop being so needy,” he says, voice muffled as he doesn’t stop sucking down your throat.

“I’m needy? Says the one who’s been kissing me and having me play with your hair for the last—” You grab your phone that was under his pillow and check the time. You got here around five p.m and it's now close to six. “—hour.”

“Were you not complaining you barely get aftercare during sex? All those other boys you were with practically discarded you, now I’m doing it and you have a problem?” His hand runs on the underside of your right breast before cupping it, squeezing it in his hand, enjoying the way you shiver momentarily. “Make up your fuckin’ mind.”

His tongue licks at your nipple and your body jerks briefly before stilling as he sucks on your soft nipple till it hardens.

“That’s—not the same and you know it, Rin.” you huff, unable to think of a comeback; not when he’s treating you like this. He chuckles and bites gently on your breast.

All you can think of as you toss your head back is the feeling of his soft lips on your breast, his tongue licking at your nipple, sending static down your entire body.

His mouth is hot against your skin and you find yourself subconsciously lifting your chest higher to feel more of his mouth.

Your hands grab onto his face and lift him to look at you before pulling him towards you for a kiss. His hand rests on the headboard behind you as your needy mouth moves against his.

You take the time to run your fingers along his sides, dragging them along his bare back that’s far too clean for your liking, not enough scratch marks like usual. If only he’d actually fuck you like you wanted.

This time, your phone starts to ring beside you and you pull away, breaking the kiss and completely missing the way Rindou rolls his eyes as you instantly go to answer it.

“Hello?”

Bored, Rindou bends back down to your neck only to have you press your spare hand against his mouth, looking sternly at him and shaking your head.

“Oh hi Kakucho. Yes, Rindou’s with me.”

Rindou gives you a confused look and you shrug before listening intently at your phone. “Oh really? Yeah, we’re not busy right now. I’ll tell him. Okay, bye.” You hang up and put your phone back on the bed.

“Why did you lie?” Rindou asks.

“Kakucho said he needs you for something. I don’t know what, he won’t tell me.”

“Okay? I’m still busy though.” He pins you back down to the bed when you go to sit up. “I’ll fuck you for real this time. Let me finish.”

As if to prove his point he shifts backwards, grabbing your ankles and lifting your legs to rest on his shoulder. He leans forward and his cock instantly slides deeper than before; you moan loudly.

“Right there?” He rolls his hips again, testing. You nod rapidly, breathless and that’s all he needs before snapping his hips recklessly.

Your walls flutter around the condom with each thrust and he can’t get enough of how good you feel around him. He buries his head between your shoulder and his pillow and listens to your moans, how loud and shaky they get when his hips press firmly against yours.

“I’m close,” you say softly, biting down on your lip.

“Me too. Shit.”

His orgasm comes faster than he’d expected, his seed spilling out into the condom when you moan his name softly as your own walls spasm from your own orgasm. He lays on top of you momentarily before remembering Kakucho’s call and reluctantly lifts himself off you.

He slides off the bed and you lift your jelly legs up to sit upright, watching him change back into his clothes.

“What time will you be back?” you ask, resting your chin on your arm perched on top of your knee.

“Not sure to be honest. I don’t even know what these people want.” He fixes his belt. “Why? You’ll miss me?” he adds with a smirk and you roll your eyes,

“Other way around Rindou.”

“Mhm sure .” Fully dressed, he fixes his hair that’s been ruffled from earlier. “C’mere.”

You slide off the bed and walk over to him. He cups your cheek and pulls you closer, gently kissing you.

You pull away after a few moments and push him towards the door. “Get out already. Stop stalling and go see your friends.”

He laughs before closing the door.

He can’t keep his hands off you.

Rindou has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, keeping sure your body is pressed against his side the entire party. If you wanted to get a drink, he’ll be with you with his arm around your shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture, what can he say?

If you wanted to play beer pong with his friends, his arm is around your hip, standing behind you, close enough so that your ass constantly brushes his crotch whenever you make any sort of movement.

His friends all look at him like he can’t be serious. Ran can’t even think of a time he’s seen you without Rindou’s arm around you honestly. It’s gotten that far.

If you’re sitting on the couch, Rindou’s arm is around your waist, making sure you’re sitting as close to him as possible. What can he say, he just wants to make space for others on the couch. He’s a generous guy.

You’re currently in the bathroom, fixing your hair up to get ready to step into the pool.

Rindou’s watching you as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, shamelessly running his eyes along your body in your bathing suit. You’re not oblivious to his staring, only used to it at this point. It’s not like you don’t stare at him too whenever he’s shirtless.

It’s only admiration .

Rindou stands up and stands behind you as you take your earrings out, his chest right against your back as you look at him through the mirror.

“You good?” you ask, concerned. He’s been silent the entire time you’ve been changing.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he murmurs, distracted by the thin strap of your bathing suit. He can’t help but wonder how something so thin can be sturdy enough to hold up in the waters. The last thing he wants is for it to come loose and have your entire chest exposed in front of all his friends.

“I dunno Rin. You’ve been really quiet since Sanzu mentioned swimming—”

“Isn’t this a little flimsy?” he cuts you off, ignoring you in favour of tugging at your strap.

“You think?” You tug at the other one and wonder. “I think it’ll be fine. Actually! Could you tighten the strings at the back?” You reach behind your back and gesture at it.

“Sure.” His voice is low as he unties the straps and begins tying them again but tighter. Halfway, he stops and you don’t notice until you’ve fully taken out your earrings, feeling your bikini top begin to slip.

“Uh, Rin?” You feel him moving the straps off your shoulder but before you can question it, he’s turning you around and hoisting you up onto the bathroom counter. “Rin. What are you—”

He leans forward, entrapping in a kiss that has you shutting up instantly. His hand palms your breast through your bikini top that’s on the verge of falling to the floor.

Your hands move to the side of his face and hold him close to you as he slips between your legs, his hand dropping to rest at your hips. His tongue plays with yours, licking into your mouth and you have to fight to keep the soft moan rising in your throat down as you ran your hands down the plane of his chest, gripping at the waistband of his shorts to tug him closer.

Your bikini top finally falls to the floor and it feels so good to have his hand caressing your bare breast.

A loud knock at the door startles you; Rindou remains unfazed, only irritated at being interrupted.

“What the fuck do you want?” Rindou yells at the door.

“We’re about to get in the pool. You guys coming or not?!” Sanzu yells back from the other end.

Rindou turns back to you and you shrug, not really minding what you do. His eyes drop down to your lips, your bare chest, your legs, then his dick that’s been hard in his shorts for the last five minutes.

“We’ll see you in a bit.” Rindou kisses you again, lifting you off the counter slightly to slide the rest of your bikini off.

“We’re busy right now.”

#—tr </3 #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou smut #rindou x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev #tokyorev x reader #tr smut #tr x reader #tokrev smut

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euaphoric · 7 months

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🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 1. 🕸️

Show You What Devotion Is . . .

[PAIRING] jungkook x f!reader

[GENRE] bf/gf, established relationship, pwp [WARNINGS] fluff, smut, small mentions of insecurities, body worship, devotion kink, face-sitting, biting, spit kink (sorta, kinda?)

summary: you don’t think you’re good enough for your boyfriend but he proves those thoughts wrong by showing just how much undying love he truly has for you.

wc -> 2.0k

A/N: first post of the month, 30 more to go woohoo~ so excited to do this and hopefully this’ll help me get a better idea of what i like/don’t like writing in the future. **fyi oc is told that she tastes like candy but obvi in the real world if ur hoo-ha tastes like candy that’s not normal .. o_O buttt this is fiction so just pretend they can sjdjfjsjjs.

kinktober m.list

this day simply couldn’t get any worse. you missed the bus back home just by a fraction of a minute, all because you wanted to speak with your professor at his office hours but now in hindsight, you wished you never did. it was practically a waste of time anyway, he wasn’t giving much worthy feedback on your presentation and the anxiety about your final grade grew rampant as the semester progressed. ‘fuck, guess’ll wait for the next one in 15’ you mumble to yourself, annoyed and exhausted from earlier’s events. one side of you just wants to call jungkook to come pick you up but your other subconscious is telling you that’s selfish— don’t make him drive all the way here when you can just wait a measly 15 more minutes.

sigh~

it won’t kill you to wait, it’s not like you were in a rush to see him right now. it was actually quite the opposite, you weren’t prepared to tell him how you completely bombed your presentation. well, you wouldn’t say completely but it definitely wasn’t up to your impossibly high standards. public speaking was the only class you struggled with the most, you could articulate your words precisely in writing but saying it out loud? that was a totally different story. you have to outgrow this “fear” over speaking in front of an audience if you want to practice law one day. no one’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even read a single paragraph without tripping over syllables. all you could do was replay those embarrassing moments and internally cringe, almost missing the bus again from being so deep in thought— what a nightmare.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

“baaabyyyy!” the sweet sound of jungkook’s voice instantly made everything better, at least for now. his peachy soft lips went straight to your face almost immediately, smothering you with dozens of kisses while caging his beautiful, toned arms around your willowed frame. “you came home so late, was expectin’ you half an hour agooo.” he whines immaturely, holding you so tight he’s nearly squeezing you at this point. he must’ve really missed you. “i missed the bus… i wanted to talk with my professor about my presentation and thought i could make it but i guess not..” you pause, thinking if you should share what’s really crossing your mind, “…i was gonna call you to pick me up but didn’t think it was worth all that hassle.” now hearing yourself say that out loud makes it seem like he isn’t a reliable boyfriend, he very much is, it’s just the over-thinker in you. it’ll mark your 2 years of dating next week yet somehow you still felt like you were burdening him at times.

if the embodiment of ‘???’ was a person, that would be jungkook right about now; he couldn’t fathom you thinking such unlawful things. “hassle? what’re you talking about love, nothing is a hassle for me when it comes to you, absolutely nothing. next time you need me don’t hesitate to call babe,” he reassures sincerely. loosening his embrace momentarily to turn you around, he brings your chests together while his hands wrap your pretty waist, feeling his rapid heartbeat against yours. “i’m serious, you better call me next time.” the sternness of his voice alarming you that he’ll probably lecture you for this. he texts you hourly just to check in and make sure you’re okay, a simple drive to pick you up is the bare minimum to him. “well besides that.. how’d your presentation go?” jungkook’s doe-like eyes widen as he interrogates with questions. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” you silently mutter, already dreading what the final grades were going to be. “that bad, huh?” he proceeds with even more questions, “did you remember like we practiced last night?” you nod, lowering your head to stare at the floor, confidence dwindling by the second.

it truly hurts him to see you upset over something you’ve worked so passionately on, all just for it to feel ruined in the end. he hates that you’re not your usual bubbly and cute self, it makes him do everything he can to cheer you up. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it now, i get it. you probably did well though, i bet you messed up like one time and no one even noticed ‘cause you’re so pretty!” he teases, inked, slender digits trail up to find solace on your chin, lifting your head up to face each other again. “stop stressing over dumb little imperfections, it never ends well.” “oh, you’re one to talk!” you whine into his chest, unable to deal with his hypocrisy. not jungkook of all people giving you this speech when he is literally the #1 perfectionist king. “and i’m not even that pretty..” you quietly mumble, hoping he wouldn’t catch that. “wait, what did you just say?!” his voice raised an octave of confusion, you would think someone had just told him the most horrific story, but no, here he is on the verge of a mental breakdown over his girlfriend feeling insecure. “i said i’m not that—” “no no, i heard you the first time. my brain just isn’t registering the fact that you don’t think you’re anything less than a walking goddess of this earth.” he was flabbergasted to hear you talk with such low confidence, “sometimes, i feel like you can do so much better..” that’s what fully broke his heart as you spoke, it pained him to know you harbored all these feelings deep down inside.

the only answer in solving this dilemma is by being a better boyfriend to you, showering you with even more compliments than he already does daily, and most importantly, proving that he is 100% devoted to you and you only.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

eyes half-lidded in lust, limbs spasming and going numb from the continuous stimulation, you can’t do much but moan out jungkook’s name on an endless loop. the first hour, jungkook took his heavenly time with your delicate, angelic body. everything about you is divine to him, he wants to appreciate every single inch of you, even the parts you despise. he dedicated his lips to kissing and pleasuring your whole body, leaving no surface of you untouched. he’d rave in between kisses about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is and how he’s willing to do anything to make you happy. if being love-drunk was a disease, he’d rather fall into a coma and never wake up than find the cure. he’s living his best life as he cherishes your innate beauty, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he reaches them, taking ample time to caress and praise your dreamy body. he’s always had a thing for your cute plush thighs, the way they’d bounce and jiggle when he plays with them makes him all giddy inside. he can never get enough of them or you, leaving numerous bite marks and coating them with his spit, “you’re a work of art princess, a masterpiece. don’t think any different.” jungkook murmured against you, voice laced with pure seduction and infatuation.

body buzzing in anticipation as he kept working his way up, leaving a chaste peck to your left and right hip bone, firmly gripping your thighs as he drags his lips to your center. the urge to make out with your cunt was insatiable for him, he needed his face buried between your legs, there was no place he’d rather be. “after this you’re gonna use my face as your throne and m’gonna give you the most mind blowing orgasm, capeesh?” jungkook props his head up for a second before kissing below your belly button. “c-capeeshh.” you hazily reply, mind still fuzzy from just his kisses and touch alone. you know you’re in for a wild ride whenever you sit on your boyfriend’s face, he always eats you like a starved man and makes sure you cum multiple times, he takes such pride in himself for having you be a twitching and moaning mess by the end of it all. his only goal and mission for the night was to make you feel so good that you reach your climax hard enough to see memories of your life flash before your eyes. as he made his way up to your waist, you melt into his warmth, craving him more and more as time goes on. you thought you felt your soul leave your body when he unsuspectingly attaches his mouth to your nipple, babbling nothing coherent as you rut your hips into nothing.

as much as jungkook wanted to keep the teasing going, he was so down bad to have you sit on his face in this moment, ready to show exactly how much love and obsession he has for you. “need you so bad babe.. need to taste you,” he sighs, shamelessly gawking over you as he maneuvers you on top. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy mama... would love to be in between these pretty thighs for the rest of my life.” you couldn’t help but blush at his dirty talk, feeling flustered as you slide off your damp polka dot panties, watching as he licks his lips, planning to devour you whole. jungkook was so excited, you’re always scared of hurting him whenever you sit on his face but he reassures you often that he’ll be fine, “you’re not gonna kill me babe, trust me. even if you did i think it’d be sick to put ‘died from too much pussy juice’ on my gravestone anyway.” he lightly jokes, never taking anything in the slightest bit serious. you position your lower half, hovering over his face as he stares directly at your wetness. the tent in his boxers only surged, he was so hopelessly attracted to you, he could cum just from giving you head.

“fuuuu- oh my god so good, so good! yess, keep going babyy..” your legs shake violently as you rock your hips back and forth, rendering a steady motion against your boyfriend’s soothing tongue. as you throw your head back in pleasure and delight, jungkook grips onto your thighs for dear life, using every bit of manpower he possessed in making sure you don’t move away. “mmmhh~” he’d hum into your sensitive, eliciting the harmonious moans he loves to hear every night. you clutch onto the floral sheets of the bed, hand full of jet-black hair in the other. “mmm.. taste so sweet for me..” he grunts against your dripping core, “like candy..” a few more sloppy licks then he’s back to aggressively sucking your clit. you were grinding his face with more speed and didn’t care as much about hurting him anymore, if he really was uncomfortable he’d speak up. jungkook would never do that though, you are his goddess and he wants this night to be all about pleasing you. “uhhh, t-think m’gonna cum..” you felt that familiar knot in your tummy, hips subconsciously rutting faster into his mouth as eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t tell much of his condition below you but his stamina never slowed, eating you out with everlasting hunger as his grip refuses to unravel. “cum for me princess, please.” his encouraging words help reach your high, feeling a whole new state of nirvana as your chest heaves, “fuck, jungkook, i love you!” you cry out, clenching around his tongue as he licks every crevice of you clean. the room spun around as you catch your breath, having trouble regaining your balance for a split second.

you droop down onto your heavy panting boyfriend’s chest, lightly sticking to his dewy skin from all the built up sweat. “sooo, how’re you feeling now compared to earlier? did it work? are all your insecurities vanished and gone now?” he’s back to his normal self again, asking his little series of questions. you giggle, “i feel great koo, definitely helped me relax..” flashing a warm smile as he reaches out for you to cuddle, “i must’ve done some life-changing shit in my past lives to deserve someone as good as you.”

#kinktober 2023 #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x f reader #jungkook fic #bts fics #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabbles

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sanatomis · 2 months

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ── 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄!

a child is bound to feel neglected when they discover no one bothered to show up for their science fair, especially when all their peers have someone to dote on them. it seems fushiguro megumi is no exception.

content. female!reader with she/her pronouns, feminine nicknames (princess), established relationship with satoru, slight angst with a happy ending.

notes. nobody was there when i presented my end of the year research-project as a 14 year old, so megumi (age 7), baby, i'm gonna make sure there's someone there for you.

࣪taglist. | series masterlist.

Megumi never really cared about science fairs. To him, they’re just a regular afternoon at school that he’ll have to sit through until he’s finally allowed to go home. He may think of them as unnecessary—as he does not believe in a good reason for parents to come to the school and marvel at their child’s (very much mediocre) creation—but he has never had a strong opinion towards them. They were just. . .there.

He didn’t pay them much mind, and that exact indifference turned out to be the motive behind the very serious crime of putting a flyer in the bin.

“Look what I found!”

There’s a sense of annoyance that bubbles up in his stomach when Satoru puts the invitation to the science fair in front of him. Megumi’s brows furrow, and he purses his lips—leave it to him to find something he doesn’t want to have found.

“Hm?” You hum, and lean over to look. One of Satoru’s fingers taps impatiently on the flyer, as if it’s saying ‘look, I caught him hiding something!’. Megumi briefly contemplates biting the digit clean off. “Science fair. . .Is this yours, Megumi?”

While reading, you put the bowl of rice back down onto the dinner table, and Tsumiki gingerly grabs it upon return. You mouth the words as you do so, and the boy nearly gags when he watches Satoru’s lovesick gaze at your little quip. It’s so disgustingly sappy, he nearly forgets you asked him a question. Nearly, as it had induced just enough anxiety into him to make him remember.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, and pokes a piece of chicken with his chopsticks.

You stop reading at his confirmation. There’s a sad look in your eye, it forms quickly and is instantly directed at him. Megumi doesn’t like it. Especially since he’s most likely the cause of it. “Why didn’t you tell us?” You ask, and he finds himself at a loss of words.

Why didn’t he tell you? In all honesty, it just didn’t occur to him to do so. He has never cared about science fairs, nor has he had people who attended them for him. Most times, they are for parents only—so try as she might, Tsumiki was never allowed inside. Megumi eventually stopped bringing them up. He felt a little sorry for all the failed attempts his sister (very lovingly) made. But now. . .well, yes, why didn’t he tell you?

He doesn’t know the answer to that.

“Didn’t think of it,” he says eventually, because he knows you’ve been trying to get him to talk more; verbalising his feelings, is what you called it.

You frown at his answer, and it makes him wonder if he said the wrong thing. A quick glance between you and the man at your side is shared. Megumi thinks that can’t be good.

“It says it’s for tomorrow evening,” you tell Satoru, and push the flyer over back to his side of the table. “Are you free, then?”

Satoru pauses. He’s not free, Megumi knows he isn’t. Not because Satoru told him so, but because he listened to the phone call he had a few hours ago. It’s bad manners, he knows—he can hear you in his head, and he shouldn’t have done it. But, Satoru talks so loudly, he should simply quiet down if he doesn’t want others to hear.

“I sure am,” he says then, and Megumi tries to hide the surprise on his face. He’s lying. Liar. Liar. Liar. It’s all that goes through the boy’s head, but he doesn’t say it out loud.

He does wonder why Satoru lied, but he quickly gets his answer when he sees the happy smile that breaks out on your lips. “That’s great!” You say, and place one of your hands on his. Seemingly delighted, you look at Megumi. “We’ll be there.”

“It’s nothing special,” Megumi says. His voice is clear this time, as opposed to his previous mumbling. Once again, he hears you in his head. You’re allowed to make noise. “You really don’t have to.”

“Nonsense,” Satoru chimes.

You continue his sentence. “We’ll be there.”

We’ll be there.

. . .So, where are you?

Megumi isn’t too proud to admit that he’s currently desperately looking for the blabbermouth you call your boyfriend. It’s not because he’d rather have him here than you, but his white hair makes for a stark contrast among the crowd. It’s so very easy to find, and yet it’s nowhere to be found. He’s not here, and that, by extension, means you probably aren’t here, either. The realisation hits him harder than he thought it would have.

For some reason, there’s a deep sadness. He thinks it’s a little silly. Nobody has ever shown up before, and he was fine with that. Being alone isn’t new to him. None of the situation he’s currently in is surprising, and yet Megumi has to fight off the tears welling up in his eyes. Why is he feeling this way? This hasn’t happened before.

Megumi doesn’t care about science fairs. But, if that were true, then why do all the children and their parents suddenly make the room feel smaller? He swallows. All his classmates are darting around the room, chattering and motioning towards their projects while their parents gawk in feigned awe. As they always did. Except now, he feels something akin to resentment boil from within. His hand balls up into a fist.

There isn’t a good enough reason for him to feel so disappointed. The position he finds himself in isn’t unfamiliar, and he knows Satoru was initially called-in for a mission somewhere in Ginza. Something came up, that’s all there is to it. Megumi knew better than to get his hopes up, or so he thought. How pitiful.After all this time, he still hasn’t learned.

And suddenly, he’s four years old again, and crawling into the crumpled bed sheets of his father’s ever-so-empty bed. He’s holding onto the fabric as if it’ll slip through his fingers, and stifling his quiet sobs with the pillow that doesn’t carry the same comforting scent any longer. It hasn’t for months now. Megumi keeps hoping that one day, it will. Tsumiki peeks into the room, and he pretends not to notice. He’s four years old, and has no parents, and absolutely no idea why his father left without him.

Why was he forgotten?

There is a lump forming in his throat. Its imminent appearance lulled him out of the faded memory, and into the present—the present, where he is, once again, forgotten about. Perhaps that is simply the tale of Megumi Fushiguro.

“Mom, look! I added the glitter to it just as you said,” a girl speaks from the booth next to him. “What do you think? It’s pretty, right? Do you think it’s pretty?”

Her mother laughs, and pets her head once the girl starts tugging on her arm. “Mhm, it’s beautiful, darling. I’m very proud of you.”

Megumi doesn’t necessarily want to cry. Though, when his eyes water momentarily, there’s very little he can do about it; he feels even more powerless when his bottom lip starts trembling. He once read that blinking rapidly will make one’s tears disappear like snow before the sun, except that article mustn’t have taken the feeling of heartbreak into consideration. It doesn’t matter how much Megumi blinks, the first tear falls down his cheek a few seconds later.

“Huh? What’s this? You really need to work on your handwriting, Megumi, your name is barely rea. . .”

A part of him is convinced that the universe has it out for him. There is no other reason for the constant waves of misfortune that strike him. Sniffling, he looks up at the man in front of him—and the worst thought he has ever had surfaces. He is so very happy to see Satoru Gojo.

Satoru’s eyes widen in shock upon seeing the water staining the boy’s cheeks, but even then Megumi can’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed. Not at this moment. With teary eyes, he blinks up at the tall man that snatched him up from the street like he was some discarded piece of free furniture.

“Where’s. . .” he croaks out, but gets interrupted rather quickly.

“She’s talking to your teacher,” Satoru says softly. It’s a new tone of voice, one Megumi vaguely remembers as the one he normally reserved for you. This is making him uncomfortable—even a blind person would see that, but Satoru still tries. “Hey, it’s alright, buddy. She’s here.”

The pat on his head nearly feels awkward. . .No, it does feel awkward. Satoru is petting him as if he were gently pressing a buzzer. It’s not even remotely close to the soft caresses you use when soothing him back to sleep, but it still brings him some strange sense of comfort. Megumi doesn’t swat his hand away.

“There, there,” Satoru mumbles, and crouches down to his height. It’s a little silly to see such a man all folded up, his legs too long to look normal. “There was an accident a little further down the road. It took us a little longer to get here.”

Megumi lets out a shaky sigh. The petting stops shortly after. It’s quiet for a little while after—even if the room is filled with adults and children alike. Satoru looks at him, and he briefly wonders how you’re able to withstand looking into his eyes for as long as you do sometimes; Megumi thinks the blues will blind him soon. He gulps. For as annoying he might be when speaking, it turns out that Satoru Gojo is much more unnerving when he’s silent—silent, and looking right at you.

Adorned with white lashes, Satoru’s baby blues pick Megumi apart at the seam. The boy has the brief idea to ask what he is thinking, but then decides against it.

“Are you okay?”

The sound of his voice startles him. He hadn’t expected him to speak any time soon.

“Megumi,” he calls out. “Are you okay?”

Is he okay? Megumi doesn’t know for sure. There are a lot of emotions he went through these past twenty minutes, and he isn’t entirely convinced that his brain was able to process them all. But for now—for now, he at least feels okay.

Megumi nods. It’s all he does, not confident in his ability to verbalise his thoughts at the moment. He sniffs again. He’s okay, things are okay.

“Good, that’s good,” Satoru mumbles, and his eyes dart towards the right side of the room; towards the door. He clears his throat, and one of his fingers carefully makes its way towards Megumi’s cheek. “That’s good. She’s here now, see?”

Megumi visibly perks up, and, while still a little shaken, starts searching for you. As soon as he lifts his head up, there’s a soft brush against his skin. He wavers for a moment, confusion on his face once he realises Satoru brushed some stray tears away. The two look at each other once again. Why did he. . .

“Oh, there you are, lovie,” you say, relief apparent in your voice. It never takes you long to embrace Megumi—you once said he’d be stuck in your arms forever if you had your way. The boy moulds into you, and his anxiety dissipates as soon as your perfume hits his nose; the scent comforting him. “I’m so sorry, there was an accident, and all roads were blocked, and. . .God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long.”

You cup his cheeks in his hands, and Megumi suddenly feels under scrutiny. It’s as if you’re searching for any inkling that your late arrival had caused him unease. It clicks, then, why Satoru did what he did. He’s a buffoon most of the time, but it seems there are some working cells left in his brain—when it concerns you, of course. Megumi is very thankful for him now. Though, he will deny ever feeling so.

“Alright, princess, let him breathe,” Satoru says, the usual light lilt to his voice has made a return. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches you fuss over him. “Don’t you want to show us your project, Megumi?”

The mention of his project catches your attention. “Oh! Yes, will you show us, Gumi?”

One might think you’re speaking about some grand architecture design rather than a small, barely functioning science project. That is, if they took the look in your eyes as anything to go by. The boy glances between you and Satoru. Megumi then decides that, yes, he would like to show it to you—he always has wanted to show them.

You weren’t his parents, but you were at his side. And when Megumi looks at the near-giddy excitement showing up on Satoru’s face, and the unconditional support on yours. . .he thinks that may just be enough.

He nods, and finds his words again.

“I—I will, yes. Follow me, please.”

taglist [based off the last fic in the series, let me know if it’s no longer wanted]: @torusdoll @sad-darksoul

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: fushiguro megumi #ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #platonic fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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sucker4colby · 9 months

Text

Party’s over

Part 1

Summary: Colby fucked up bad. Choosing his girl best friend amber over his girlfriend on his girlfriends birthday.

Warning: cussing, angst, fluff between best friends, insecurities.

Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader.

I could feel jakes sympathetic gaze on me as I paced back and forth biting the nail on my thumb, a habit I exhibited when in distress. There was no way you could miss how uneasy I was, the anxiety stinking up the room. “ maybe he’s caught up in traffic.” His voice broke the silence in my bedroom. I closed my eyes in annoyance letting out a sigh, I wasn’t annoyed at Jake I was annoyed at my boyfriend Colby. We had been together 2 years and for some reason he chose today of all days to flake on me, my 25th birthday. I turned to face the boy who sat on my bed trying to comfort me. “ he hasn’t messaged me all day Jake. I woke up and he was gone. No happy birthday nothing.” I told him blinking rapidly to push back the tears threatening to spill over my water line.

He nodded dropping his head knowing we both knew Colby had forgotten my birthday so there was no use in giving me false hope. I stared up at ceiling trying to make sure no tears dropped on my makeup I had worked hard on. I wouldn’t lie but I was hurt, I never cared to make a big deal out of celebrating my birthday as long as I was surrounded by the most important people in my life, Colby being the most important of them all had convinced me to make a fuss this year only for him to leave me hanging. The clenching i felt in my chest traveled up to my jaw as my feelings shifted from being sad to being furious.

A knock broke the silence causing Jake and I to look at who was entering my room. “ hey, sorry, i couldn’t get a hold of him.” Sam waved his phone at me giving me a sympathetic smile. I nodded reaching up weakly to smooth my hair down from me running my hands through it so much. “ I’m sure he’s fine , you should come down and enjoy your party.” The blonde boy tried consoling me. “ he better be lying in a ditch bleeding out.” I snapped instantly feeling bad but I was angry his location was off and he wasn’t answering my calls or messages. I never checked Colby’s location but we had shared it in case of emergencies back when we were just friends. I just couldn’t believe he wasn’t here , I had brushed every red flag off indicating he had forgotten thinking maybe he was planning a surprise trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I followed the two boys out of my room and downstairs to where my birthday party was being held. The loud bass of the music vibrating throughout my body dulling the already present ache there.

I was wished a happy birthday by hundreds of people but none of them being the person I really wanted, only spreading the sadness throughout my body. I faked a smile and cheered along with everyone accepting a couple drinks to help me forget why I was down. Honestly fuck Colby wherever he was, I didn’t need him to enjoy myself, I found myself thinking as I threw my head back downing a shot of tequila earning cheers from a couple people surrounding me. I laughed throwing my arms up and cheering along with them momentarily forgetting my concerns.

I felt my phone buzz in my left pocket so I reached down to grab it walking away from the make shift bar in the kitchen. I furrowed my eyebrows in confused at the notification stating that Colby Brock had posted on his instagram. I had alerts on for whenever he posted so i thought it was odd since he wasn’t responding. Clicking on it his posted showed up, a mirror pick of him and amber, amber smiling big and leaning her head on his shoulder. My smile dropped and my body ran cold making me freeze in the middle of the room. He had forgotten my birthday because he was hanging out with amber, I knew they were friends and I didn’t have a problem until they started getting flirty with each other.

I was fighting back tears faking a smile at a friend who cheered walking past me. How could I be so stupid of course he would forget the moment he was with her. She’s beautiful and I’m just me, she had full plump lips, flawless skin, her body was to die for and here I am, plain and ordinary me. My skin all of sudden felt dirty and I felt like I looked ridiculous wearing these jeans and revealing shirt, my makeup felt heavy and caked on now and I know you could see the pimple I had on my cheek. Wiping the stray tear on my left cheek I put my head down and rushed to the bathroom to recollect myself.

My arm was tugged back making me fall into sams chest where he wrapped his arms around me. I looked up at him not able to hide my watery eyes and pouting lips. “ I’m sorry bubble, he fucked up and I let him know he isn’t aloud near you when he gets home” he comforted tugging me towards my original location. I guess he had seen the post as well but I’m just glad he knew his best friend fucked up. I couldn’t stop the water works once the blonde boy called me by my nickname, and I couldn’t help but think why was Sam here and not Colby. I sobbed clinging onto him wishing I was dreaming and I was hugging my blue eyed boyfriend instead of crying over him. He shushed me rocking us back and forth patting my head hoping it would calm me down which it did for a bit.

“ Katrina will come up with you while I try to kick people out ok ?” He asked making me look up at him. I nodded thankful that I could count on Sam to be there for me. I raced up the stairs hoping not many people saw me and rushed into my room changing into some sweat pants and big hoodie. Katrina had walked in with some water and snacks as I was rinsing my face off placing them on my bed and walking into my bathroom.

“Hey bubbles, how are you holding up.” She asked handing me my towel to dry off my face. I pouted at her looking at her with my bloodshot eyes knowing she already knew the answer. “ come on, Colby’s a dumbass.” She pouted back bringing me in to hug her. “ I didn’t think he was this big of a dumbass.” I sniffled angrily nuzzling my head into her shoulder. My phone started ringing from the bed making us both look at it. My lip trembled as I saw the familiar caller contact pop up, a picture of Colby and I smiling into our kiss reminding me how much It hurt that that I loved him so much when he was doing the bare minimum. Kat reached out turning my phone off causing me to raise my eyebrows at her.

“ he’s been ignoring you all day, we’re just matching his energy.” She shrugged guiding me towards my bed tucking me in and making herself comfortable as my big spoon, I couldn’t help but giggle at her accepting her cuddles. “ you know, if it doesn’t work out with Colby I could break up with Sam and date you.” She whispered causing me to close my eyes and let out a laugh. Of course kat would be the one to cheer me up, I considered her my best friend for that reason. Ever since we met, we hit it off always being there for each other and being each others number one fan.

We laid in silence her arms wrapped around me providing the warmth and love I sought from Colby. It broke me that my best friend was setting the standard higher than Colby was but it was opening my eyes. Maybe I loved Colby more than he loved me, and maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to show him and harder for him to show me. Maybe I had been so in love with him I was turning a blind eye to what was in front of me, he had gone out of his way to get amber tickets to a show she wanted to see for her birthday and I so stupidly had helped him get them calling around to different vendors to get them. Was I keeping him from being with the person he really wanted to be with? Amber wasn’t a bad person so I know she would never try to purposely ruin my relationship but this was on Colby.

Tears dropped down my cheeks as I laid there silently hoping I wouldn’t wake Katrina who had just fallen asleep. I wanted to sink into the bed and disappear, was I really that replaceable or forgettable. I could hear Sam downstairs making an announcement that the party was over, somehow that made my heart break even more. The party was over and he was still at her house, he had been with her all day not even bothering to let me know he was ok.

Pretty soon all you could hear were Kats light snores and the crickets outside as everyone had left. Sam had some in to say goodnight before making his way into his own room deciding to let kat sleep with me since I seemed to need her more. As I laid there for a couple hours in self pity I heard the familiar engine of his red corrola pull into the drive way and the door shut. I screwed my eyes shut trying to fight even more tears from falling at each sound of his footsteps climbing the stairs. I honestly didn’t know what I wanted from him, did I want him to leave me alone or did I want him to make things right. Did I just want the chance to be petty back or did I want to fix things. My breath caught in my throat as he stood right outside my door his shadow visible from under the door my heart pounded and I could hear it in my ears. I don’t know how I kept myself from shaking as he opened the door to peak in, I pretended to be asleep hoping it was make him go away.

He never did come in, he shut the door and walked away.

____________

Hi guys ! I know I haven’t been posting but Ive had writers block 😭

Im hoping to make this a two part series so stay tuned ! Let me know if you have any suggestions!

Also It’s been weeks and I can’t wrap my head around the fact that Sam and kat are broken up 💔

As for the nickname bubbles I literally just pulled that out of my ass, I’m trying to refrain from giving my characters a name or using y/n.

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distantdarlings · 4 months

Text

BIRTHDAY ANXIETY // m. riddle

RATING: R / 3.3K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a particularly difficult day dealing with the constant attention that comes with your birthday, Mattheo helps you to slow down a bit. (Smut, Fluff)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Oral - f!receiving, praise, Dom!Mattheo, mentions of anxiety, language, fem reader, not proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

HER - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Yes, thank you again—you really are too sweet,” you laughed, your throat starting to burn beneath the constant thanking. Your fingers nervously tightened around the small bag in your hands. You wished they would just let you disappear into the common room.

“Have a good rest of your birthday, friend!”

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’m going to head back to my dorms, okay?” And with a few more waves and some nervous smiles, you found yourself through the common room door. You took a deep inhale, letting it fill every corner of your lungs before letting it out slowly. The intent of it was to calm you, but you reckoned it just made you more nervous.

You felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes you just wished you didn’t have a birthday. The constant bombardment of attention you hadn’t even asked for in the first place, coupled with the existential panic, knowing that you only got one shot at life and your time was dwindling, made you really upset. Birthdays freaked you out—you couldn’t lie.

You were grateful for the people in your life who cared enough to take a bit of time out of their day to wish you a happy birthday or to grab you a small gift, but you often wished they wouldn’t. That sounded shitty, but you couldn’t help it. If you truly wanted anything on your birthday, it was to be left completely and utterly alone with your spooky, aging thoughts.

The present in your hands had been given to you by Pansy during second period. As soon as she had given it to you, everyone else had to wish you a happy birthday, and thus, all of the attention was brought on to you. It was miserable—like you were suffocating. Consistent self-imposed guilt trips led you to believe you were a terrible person for thinking these things, but you always came back to one thought. That you couldn’t help the way your brain was, the way it functioned. Sometimes, it felt as though your brain was powered by anxiety. It was exhausting.

You power-walked back to the girls’ dormitories and nearly escaped into your room with no more wishes of happy birthday. Thankfully, there was no one else in the dorm room. The peace and quiet bade you welcome to collapse onto your bed, thankful that the day was over. Curiosity led you to finally open the gift from Pansy. It was concealed in a shiny green gift bag with a sparkly, translucent ribbon tied over the handles. It was quite…Pansy, if you’d ever seen something so like her. You smiled a bit at the sweet girl who—despite your constant hopes that she would—never forgot any kind of gift.

You set it between your outstretched legs and pulled the ribbon loose, letting the handles fall open. Inside was a neatly folded knit sweater with a lovely design over the sleeves. Upon further inspection, you noticed that a winding silver snake was added to the sleeves. You supposed it was meant to represent your house. Your stomach flipped in elation. Oh, it was just perfect. What a beautiful, thoughtful gift. You instantly felt ashamed of being so dismissive earlier when she had given you the bag. Hopefully, she knew that you weren’t being rude on purpose; you just hated the attention. Ugh. You felt awful.

You set the sweater at the edge of the bed with the intention of washing it and wearing it the next day. For now, though, you just wanted to rest and maybe pity yourself a bit. Fuck, you were pathetic. You groaned and tossed yourself back against your bed, hoping to fall asleep and just forget all of the events of the day.

A rhythmic knock came upon the door suddenly. Your eyes popped back open. Suppressing a groan, you invited the person in. You hoped it was just a roommate wanting to pass through, but your luck suggested it was another birthday wisher. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

The door pushed open and in walked your boyfriend. A wave of relief washed over you at the sight. His dark curls fell over his eyes as he quirked his eyebrows, a slight smirk popping over his lips. You swore you’d never tire of his smiles.

“Hey, birthday girl,” he said. You groaned and rolled your eyes, your head falling back in disappointment.

“Well, that didn’t seem very exciting,” he chuckled, crossing the floor.

“I swear that’s all I’ve heard today,” you sighed, scootching over so he could take the space next to you. He slid in beside you, one leg crossing over the other. “I just wish I could skip my birthday.”

“I know, darling,” he smiled. “They mean well, though. Don’t you wish people a happy birthday when it’s theirs?”

“That’s a good point,” you shrug, eyes fixated on your hands. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful, it just seemed hard to be totally comfortable with the spotlight on you all day long. Mattheo understood that aspect of you; he always had. That was one of the many reasons you adored him.

“I’m sorry you’ve had a rough day,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Can I help you relax?”

You give a small nod and allow him to gently roll you over onto your stomach. With steady breaths and slow movements, Mattheo slips his uniform jacket off, loosens his tie, and removes his shoes. He settled himself over top of the backs of your thighs, applying a small amount of pressure but never bearing his full weight. Ever the gentleman. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him rolling the sleeves of his uniform shirt up to his elbows. Merlin, you always loved it when he did that. It always showed off his muscular, darkened forearms so perfectly. It just made him look so authoritative and perfect. It placed a small blush in your stomach.

“Let me take your shirt off, darling,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly against your ear. You jumped slightly at the sudden close proximity before nodding at his request. He backed up for a moment to allow you to lean up onto your knees. You begin to pull each button out of its sleeve before his arms wrap around your body. His fingers replace yours in separating the halves of your shirt. His breath is warm and heavy against your bare skin. It elicits shocking chills down the lengths of your arms.

At the sight of the chills lacing your arms, he presses two slow kisses to the side of your neck where it meets your shoulder. You fight the urge to lean your head to one side to allow him more access to you, but you don’t want to seem too needy. He would give you a massage; let him give you one. It didn’t have to be about sex, you scolded yourself.

Once he was done with the buttons, he ever so slowly slid the material off your shoulders and down your arms, being sure to trace his fingertips along your flesh. Whether that was by mistake or not, it twisted a knot in your stomach. Any slight touch would have you begging on your knees, and he knew it. He smirked to himself, hearing your pulse increase. If there was anything that would do him in, it was hearing and seeing the effect he had on you.

“Lay down,” he commanded quietly. You immediately laid back down, your head turning to rest against your pillow. You always listened so well, it made him want you even more. Gradually, he could feel himself becoming more and more needy for you. But he had implied a massage, and he would give one.

Once you were comfortable, he pressed his hands into your back. With expert fingers, he kneaded every knot he could find out of your back. Every time he hit an especially sore area, your lips would part, and a pitiful whine would slip between them. And every time, his pants would continue to get tighter and tighter. The last few times he’d pressed his fingers into your muscles, he’d had to suppress a groan at the sounds coming from you. He wanted nothing more than to be the one making you make those sounds, but for a different reason.

His fingers moved their way down to your lower spine, working each area of tightness loose, ensuring that every ounce of stress was pulled from your body. He wanted to make you feel better in any way he could. His one duty at the moment was to heal you.

“That feels good, baby?” he whispered.

“Yes, Matty,” you groaned. He imagined what this interaction might sound like to any passersby outside, and the thought nearly tipped him over. He was so intent on giving you a massage and nothing else that he’d hardly noticed his hands finally reaching the waistband of your skirt. He rolled his fingers just above it, watching as your spine continued to arch against his hands. His core was painfully hard, the pressure nearly too much to handle. His eyes clenched shut as he bit his lip, trying to gain control over himself. The things you did to him were fucking sinful. And you hadn’t even done anything. You were dangerous.

“I’m going to move down to your legs, sweetheart,” he spoke, waiting for the little nod you did each time. You were perfect.

He moved his hands up and over your ass before hitting the backs of your thickened thighs. As he began to massage his hands over them, he glanced up against the hem of your skirt as the curve of your ass drew it up over itself. The fabric was not long enough to completely stretch over you and stopped just above the start of your thighs. He could just barely make out a pair of laced black bottoms placed taut over your core. Your increasingly wettened core. Shining slick spread over the tiny gap where your thighs met. The fabric of your bottoms was soaked. A devilish smirk slipped over his lips as he realized you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

With this newfound knowledge, he intended to tease you a little bit. He wanted to let you know how much he truly cared for you, and he wanted to take his time about it.

Slowly, he worked his fingers ever closer to the tops of your thighs where they met together. With each shift forward, he could see your shoulder clench slightly. Your want was growing darker and darker, and he knew it well. Once he was just an inch away from your core, he lingered there, making sure to get every possible bit of stress out. A quick glance up bore him the visual of your lips parted, your eyebrows furrowed, your fingers tightly gripping the sheets.

“Darling?”

“Mm-hmm?” you whined, your voice cracking a bit. You didn’t change your position in the slightest.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded darkly. You whimpered at the change in his tone, quickly propping your body up. You pushed your ass into the air, keeping your elbows and face planted firmly into the pillows. Finally, he’d taken a bit of initiative to do something for you. You were beginning to worry he genuinely only wanted to give you a massage. Perhaps you should have been a bit clearer in your signals.

Once in position, he wasted no time in flipping your skirt over your hips, letting it fall against your back. You shivered at the sensation, feeling the cool air meet your drenched core with an icy kiss. His warm breath expanded across your flesh, combatting the chill.

“So obedient,” he whispered, a small groan coming from his lips as he massaged the sides of your hips. You sighed at his words, clenching the pillowcases as tightly as you could. You were a few moments away from begging for him.

His thumbs finally curved over your ass, slowly caressing the exposed flesh and eventually coming to trace the line of your bottoms as he curved down to your core. You could barely contain any of the noises seeping from your lips as his fingers drew closer to you. You needed him to touch you so badly.

“Matty, please,” you moaned.

“Please, what?” he teased. A single thumb came down to swipe over your core, his flesh dragging against the wet material covering you. An audible shudder went through your body at the sensation.

“More.”

“Of what, darling? I need you to use your words. Can you do that for me?” he asked, his voice teasing and mean.

“Please touch me,” you whined, arching your back toward him. A small chuckle left his lips before he pressed his thumb to you through your bottoms. The sensation pushed a jolt through your body, causing you to buck your hips against him shamelessly. Despite your desperate movements, his stayed exactly the same. Even pressure, moving in tight circles over you, had you panting. Your consistent begging was not lost on his ears as he began to move his fingers faster, never weakening. He’d do this for the rest of eternity if he could continue to hear your beautiful sounds.

“Please, baby, more,” you groaned into the pillows.

“So greedy…,” he drew the words out as he pulled his fingers away from you, much to your dismay, and began to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down your bare back. As his lips curved over the clasp of your bra, his fingers matched their position. He unclipped the material, letting it fall to either side of you.

Once removed, he replaced your bra with his own hands, massaging your breasts slowly, letting the sensation sink in. You gasped as his remarkably hard core brushed against yours. Surely, that had to be frustrating. Why didn’t he just get on with it already? Why must he always tease?

He released your breasts and traced his fingers down your sides, learning every curve and dip. He watched pridefully as you shuddered against his touch, your body so painfully reactive to him.

Once his fingers reached your hips, he hooked them beneath the waistband of your bottoms and slowly, agonizingly, pulled them down to your knees. Then you were completely bare and exposed to him, every part of you catching the cool air. You moaned slightly at the feeling.

There was but a moment of nothing before he clasped his lips around your core, inducing a strong moan from you. He couldn’t help it; he could barely hold himself back as it was, let alone refuse a taste of you. A taste that he had become so accustomed to in the last while. He was sure that the smell and taste of you would revive him from the dead.

He licked and sucked and kissed, spelling out every bit of his passion, fucking his tongue into you. What he did to your body was sinful. Even the slightest of skims of his flesh on yours had you clutching the sheets. It was pathetic, really. You half-cringed at yourself each time a loud moan poured from you, but Mattheo drew closer and closer to his orgasm each time he heard the beautiful noises. The two of you could not have more different opinions on them.

His hands gripped you tightly in place while his mouth showed no mercy—per usual. With each second, you were growing closer to your end. It felt as though Mattheo wanted you to finish all over his face, the way he was feasting on you like a starved man. The sounds that came from his lips and throat as he pleasured himself against your soaked cunt had you clenching around nothing. Surely, he didn’t mean for you to come this way, did he?

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned against you, the vibrations rattling against you. “Cum on my tongue. I want to taste you.”

Fuck, maybe he did want you to come this way. The thought of him purposefully working you toward your end specifically to taste your arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you whined, your fingers tightening into his hair, scraping his scalp. “Matty, please!”

“Keep saying my name, sweetheart,” he groaned.

With each second you drew closer to your finish, your thighs tightened around his head and your core gushed more and more against his lips. His flesh was raw and painted with you, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was for you to come against his face with your fingers in his hair and his name on your tongue. He wanted the whole of Slytherin house to know who you belonged to.

“Baby,” you breathed, your voice becoming high-pitched and pitiful. “M-Matty, I’m gonna c—”

“Cum,” he commanded, his mouth placing one last languorous suck against your core. Your back arched off of the mattress, Mattheo’s name printed on your lips, and passing from every exit. The product of your arousal spilled from you and onto his tongue, which he accepted graciously.

Once you’d finally relaxed and come down off of your high, Mattheo leaned forward and, with complete eye contact, brushed the remnants of your finish off of his chin and licked it off of his fingers.

“Precious material,” he whispered. A tired giggle erupted from you at his words. When he collapsed down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, you thought you’d found the last comfortable place on earth.

In Mattheo’s arms, nobody could get to you, not even the purest of well-wishers. After the entirety of your evening was spent with Mattheo fucking you like only he could, you still found yourself slipping back into a guilty mindset. A sigh left you.

“Still upset?” he whispered against your hair, lips brushing your forehead.

“I just feel guilty,” you said, “I don't want any of these people thinking I’m not grateful. I love gifts, it’s just…”

“Well,” he started. “It’s a good thing you like gifts.”

He leant himself up and reached down over the side of the bed. You pushed yourself to a sitting position to watch as he dug through the pockets of his jacket. In a few seconds, he’d produced a small box, wrapped in green paper, much like Pansy’s. A flush grew on your cheeks.

“Mattheo,” you breathed. You took the gift into your hands. “What on Earth is this?”

“Darling, despite how much you hate the attention, it’s still your birthday,” he chuckled, urging you to open it.

With a small breath, you slipped the top of the gift box up and noticed a small tag on the inside with your name written in Mattheo’s quick scrawl. Beneath the tag, was a small bundle of tissue paper. You felt your pulse increasing by the minute.

With shaking fingers, you unraveled the small amount of tissue paper to reveal an almost complete replica of Mattheo’s ring with a slight feminine touch to it. You gasped, tears pooling.

“Merlin, how much was this?” you asked without thinking. Panic set in at the thought of him spending any amount of money on you. Then you realized it was rude to ask about cost. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” he laughed. “No material costs could ever outweigh you.” You watched as he pulled it from your hands and gently slid it on your finger.

“There, now everyone will properly know that you’re mine,” he said, smirking.

“I thought you liked to mark me up for that,” you teased. A streak of pride pooled in your stomach as his eyes darkened significantly at your words. You knew that, without a doubt, there was no way you were getting out of this with just one round.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 @mypolicemanharryyy @angelfrombeneth @clairesjointshurt @bunbunbl0gs @acornacreacure @niktwazny303 (if you would like to be added to the tag list, please comment on this post, send me a dm, or message in my inbox. Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo x reader #mattheo x you #fem reader #request

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himbofan4444 · 5 months

Note

Could you do a story where a genius chemistry major gets caught up in the jocks hazing rituals and they turn him into a jock slowly by melting his brains into cum leading to the finale where he cums his brains out along the quarterbacks ass

I don’t want to sound conceded or like I’m cocky or anything, but I’m technically a genius. Like my IQ is high enough to classify me as a genius. I’ve been called perfect before because I’m really intelligent and rather muscular thanks to my time in the gym and my time playing football. I’m gonna sound like a total pick-me, but I’ve never really fit in. I’m so much more intelligent than every other guy that was on the team. But now that I’m in college, I’m hoping I can find at least one guy I can relate to.

My first day of college wasn’t great… The guys are literally the exact same as the ones from high school in mannerism and mentality. I guess I’ll just be out of place yet again. There’s a “sacred” hazing ritual that all new coming football players must partake in. I haven’t been told much but I know it’s humiliating. I step foot in the locker room, the putrid stench of stale musk and sweat fills my nose. Honestly I don’t mind the smell; I’ve grown used to it after years of exposure to it. There’s a line of freshmen standing shirtless just like me. I enter the end of the line and wait for further instruction.

The quarterback paces in front of the group of us, marching like a general. He stops in front of me and looks me up and down, his eyes resting on my crotch for an uncomfortably long time.

“Last year, one of our linebackers graduated. He was renowned for his massive horse cock. Since he left, we haven’t had someone to replace him and the team fuck stick. I think this man will be a perfect replacement!” the quarterback shouts, leading to a round of applause from the existing members and a weak clap from the upcoming ones. I look around, confused by his questionable proclamation.

The quarterback pulls out a battered football helmet and inserts it on my head. The helmet is tight and squeezes my head. God it kind of hurts. I chuckle, “Oh I uh- Thank you…?”

“Yeah you’ll be thankin’ me real soon, bro,” the quarterback said, a smirk on his face. A flash of calmness washes over me, instantly numbing my anxieties and concerns. My dick jumps to life, sticking straight out in front of me. The other guys laugh at my obvious boner.

My dick isn’t that big, only about 5 inches, but it looks… bigger. The size of my boner continues climbing, soon becoming about 11 inches and thick as a beer can. The amount of blood required to keep me hard seems to be coming straight from my brain, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy. Then my dick starts leaking precum. Buckets of precum. My brain feels weird, almost like it’s a liquid. I can feel it sloshing around in my skull. I feel a weird draining feeling, like my skull is a faucet and it’s pouring down my torso. I feel the dripping stop when the liquid reaches my balls, inflating them in size to better match the girth of my horse cock.

God it’s gettin’ hard tuh think… It’s like my brain just been switched off. “Huhuhu,” I laugh dully, rubbing my massive dick through my pants.

I look down to see the quarterback on his hands and knees with his pants pulled down. He’s presenting his big… fuckable ass… Oh my god he’s so hot. Fuck… It’s getting harder to… Oh fuck! My dick unleashes a cascading shot of thick cum on his ass. I fall to my knees, still dizzy and very disoriented.

The established football players clap and cheer me on, someone taking off my helmet and giving me a noogie. Now I’m one of the star linebackers on the team and more importantly, I’m the brainless fuck stick of the team, willing to shove my huge dick up anyone’s ass without a thought.

#dumber tf #tf #transformation #dumber #gay #gay tf #himbo #himbo tf #dick growth #dick growth tf

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mykoreanlove · 4 months

Text

whispers of love

Felix was snuggled in bed with you, hugging you from behind. The smell of his favorite brownies still lingered on him, almost as sweet as his kisses on you. You squirmed in his embrace as his lips tickled the sensitive skin on your neck. “Lixie, stop that”, you laughed warmly. “Hell no”, he retorted and kissed you some more. The sensations were too much to bear, so you wriggled yourself out of his embrace and turned to face him directly.

“Hi”, he said and placed a kiss on the top of your nose. A warmth you had never felt before spread through your whole body. You relaxed, smiled some more and looked at him. This was your first time being with someone who saw all of you and decided to stay. Being with Felix made your heart flutter in the best ways and that was something you were grateful for every single day.

“You look so beautiful right now, baby cakes.” He gazed at you with a mixture of longing and infatuation. Felix grabbed your hand and positioned it to his lips, placing a chest kiss on your knuckles. “There is something I want to say to you, y/n. Actually, I already said it a lot of times, but you were always asleep, so now’s the moment.” He paused for a second, carefully selecting his next words.

“I love you.”

Butterflies were joined by all other animals as well, turning your stomach into a zoo. Your heart raced. Your brain thought a thousand thoughts per second. Your throat was dry.

“Love? You love me?”

Felix chuckled; he had already anticipated that reaction. No matter how much he tried and showed his love for you, you still had trouble accepting it. “Yes, love. I love you.”

“But” your brain instantly presented a myriad of reasons as to why he shouldn’t do that. “But, how? I am just a normal person.”

For a split second you noticed him scrunch his face. He hated it when you talked down on yourself. He hated it when you thought less of yourself because of the dumbest reasons. He hated it when you hated yourself. By now he understood though, that arguing against you was fruitless – this was a journey you had to go on by yourself. Felix chose to stand by your side and hold your hand though.

“Don’t care. I love you.”

“But I’m not in the best shape right now.” He placed another kiss on your knuckles. “I love you.”

“Felix, what do you mean? I am a mess. I have anxiety every other day.” He squeezed your hand. “I still love you.”

You turned on your back and thought about all this while he was still holding your hand. How could he love me when I’m not perfect?

You thought hard, you had to present him with all the facts, so he could make a rational decision. Eagerly, you turned around again.

“Lix, I have health struggles.”

“Don’t care. I love you.”

“But I always assume the worst and get anxious.”

“I love you regardless.”

“But I.. I have debt I need to pay off!”

“Fine by me. I love you.”

Your brain fought hard. Surely, there had to be a reason that would scare him off.

“I got scammed once because I trusted those assholes blindly.”

“I love you.”

“I was bullied when I was younger. I was never a cool kid!”

“I love you.”

“It’s hard for me to control my emotions and I get overwhelmed a lot.”

“Still love you.”

“I got rejected a million of times – I’m really not the one you fall in love with.

Felix took a deep breath, trying to remain calm for the both of you.

“I love you, y/n.”

“But” – he interrupted you this time.

“I love you. You can think of every reason, you could invent any reason – I don’t care. I. LOVE. YOU. All of you. The good, the bad, the ugly. I love you.”

He stopped talking for a second and gave you time to process all of this. The confusion on your face was evident, which irked him but he was sure that someday you’d be able to love yourself like he did.

You took a good look at him – everything he said sounded so sincere. The look on his face was truthful and loving.

“Are you sure?”, you mumbled silently. Felix laughed out happily. “Yes, y/n. I am sure. I love you. I loved you yesterday and I will love you tomorrow. Now turn around and let me cuddle you, so we can fall asleep. Okay?”

Happiness and astonishment were dominant within you right now but you did what he said. You turned around and felt his strong arms around you again, comforting you like they always did. You closed your eyes and took a calming breath, you really needed to sleep. Felix’ lips brushed your ear once more and you fell asleep to him whispering his love for you.

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gogobootz1 · 4 months

Text

The Mentor pt.3

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: A morning chat at the train station proves very revealing for you and Finnick.

Warnings: mention of forced prostitution and mild self-harm

part two | part four

The marble steps you sit on are practically ice, and the cold seeps quickly through your pants. The train station is entirely empty, and you sit outside of it looking out at the city.

Knees up to your chest, you take a deep breath. The roses you clutch in your icy fingers seem to taunt you, and once you look at them, you can't pull your eyes away. A beautiful gift belying your tragic fate.

You set all but one down beside you, then start to pick at its petals. Completely transfixed, you don't even hear the sounds of someone approaching until you drop the last petal.

"What'd you land on?"

The words break your focus, and you quickly gaze up to find who interrupted you. Finnick interprets your gaze as a confused one and elaborates, "Loves you/loves you not?"

That's not why you were picking the petals, but if you had been asking the flower, it would've been about him. The thought is embarrassing, so you give a half-hearted shrug and look away.

"Well, I got these for you," he holds out a small, far more rustic bouquet. Violets. "But it seems like someone's beaten me to the punch." What a cruel metaphor. Snow blocking your chances yet again. Standing in between you and a real life with real connections. Soon enough, you won't be real. What'll be left when you run out of choices you can make for yourself?

For now, you put the roses down anyway. The breath from your melancholy laugh is visible in the crisp morning air. "Thanks," you say, holding your hand out to accept the flowers. They remind you of home. A patch of them grew out in the field behind the house you grew up in. Your fingers brush over his as you accept the bouquet.

He jolts, "You're freezing!" Dropping down next to you on the steps, he removes the violets from your grasp and rests them in the small space between you. You follow the purple flowers with your eyes as he swiftly takes your hands in his own, attempting to warm them. "Do you purposefully torture your hands?"

You don't answer, still looking at the flowers he brought you. Finnick sighs, "You take such good care of Darla. Do you even bother looking after yourself?"

"What's the point?" Your heart hurts. As much as he hates it, he doesn't have a reply to that. He often wonders the same.

"How will you hold all the flowers you're collecting if your fingers freeze off?" He tries for lighthearted, but you wince. Instantly, he frowns. While typically, your replies to him are short, bordering on rude, they're always spirited. You seemed upset before he left you at the party last night, but now you seem disheveled. Like you hadn't had a wink of sleep.

Clearly, he's caught you in one of those moments. All the victors have them, but usually in private. He's not keen to leave you, though.

"Who gave you the roses?" He ventures, suddenly getting a sickening feeling. He's not expecting a real response, necessarily, but a 'wouldn't you like to know' would ease his anxiety.

You pick up the heavily perfumed flowers, "Oh, these? A gift, I suspect. I made someone very happy last night, and I'm sure I'll be doing it more often," you say bitterly before you toss them back down. Your voice comes out small, though, like you haven't built your armor thick enough to face this yet.

"From the office of the President?" It's not even a question. He already knows. Your face reveals your surprise. "I got a similar congratulatory present when I made my first deal." While he figured out that Snow had you in a similar position, it's clear you suspected nothing of the sort when it came to him. As you look into his eyes, he hopes you're getting what he's trying to convey. That the two of you are the same. And you can finally, finally, be honest.

"It was more of a negotiation," you nod, holding his eyes. "Not my first deal."

"I figured," he says.

You laugh sourly, "Is it easy to tell that I'm a cheap whore?"

"Don't sell yourself short," he scolds, "you're a very expensive whore." He almost worries it won't go over well when you snort and launch into the freest laugh he's heard in his life. Thank God someone appreciates his humor- Mags hates these jokes. He's got plenty more of them, and will definitely use them on you now that he knows they'll land.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you reply, tongue-in-cheek. Finnick can tell by your genuine grin, however, that you appreciated the joke.

"You're welcome," he nods, "You know, I've considered abandoning prostitution in favor of stand-up comedy."

Somehow your grin grows wider, "Really?"

"Really," he confirms, "I just have to perfect my material before I pitch it to the big man." You nod sagely, entertaining his bit. "He might just keel over in laughter," Finnick suggests.

You lean in a bit, "Think he'll keel over dead?"

"Here's hoping!" He leans in, too, sending you a flashy smile. You laugh again and look back out at the city. An amicable silence falls between the two of you, and you enjoy it a bit before breaking it.

"I met with him before the taping to tell him our deal was off. My nana died during Darla's games, so I thought he had nothing to hold over my head anymore. Then, at the party, our escort told me that Snow wanted everyone to get to know her. And when I saw her talking to-" you cut yourself off, but he understands. Some of them are too difficult to even think about. "I marched into his house and told him I'd take on twice the clients if it meant Darla would never see one." Finnick's breath catches in his throat for a second.

"So... a reminder of my renewed imprisonment," you pick the white roses up again and wave them sarcastically.

Finnick snatches them from your hands and launches them far across the steps with a firm throw. They scatter and tumble across the white marble. The action is so unexpected that another laugh bubbles out from you.

"I think you're incredibly brave," he declares, looking you right in the eye. "You might be the only victor worthy of the title."

"No," you're quick to insist. "That's Darla. She's earned her peace."

"You haven't stopped to think that you might've too?"

You shake your head, "But I haven't. I don't think I could ever atone for what I've done- no matter how hard I try." His brows furrow, finding your words worrisome.

Catching his look, you elaborate, "Every visit to Mrs. Montgomery's classroom, the parks I design, the gardens I dedicate, my broadcast segments- they're all born of guilt!" You admit, getting choked up, "It's my way of saying sorry. Sorry for fucking your husband, even though he paid to fuck me, and I wanted to die each time he did it. Sorry for being a plague upon the Earth, here's something to make it better. Sorry for-" You only notice you'd been aggressively scratching the back of your hand when Finnick grabs your wrist. It cuts off your rambling and prevents you from hurting yourself anymore.

"Why don't you talk to someone instead of torturing yourself?" He sounds pained.

“Who would I talk to?” You shrug, swiping at a stray tear.

“That was… supposed to be an offer,” he winces.

“Oh?" you blink at him.

“I’m really just a call away,” he nods, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Right,” you say, still sounding a little unsure. You blink a few times, averting your gaze and thinking it over.

“I know you think I’m gorgeous, but I’m sure it’ll be less of an obstacle for you over the phone,” he jokes.

You turn toward him slowly, eyes wide, “she didn’t.”

“She did,” he smirks at you.

You hit him firmly in the gut, and he lets out a heavy breath as he curls inward. He’s glad you’re feeling up to your usual abrasiveness.

You’ve already moved from your spot and are heading toward the station. He stumbles up after you.

You stop suddenly. Not that you were really going anywhere. The train for Ten won’t leave without Darla and Darla is chronically late. He nearly runs right into your back, and you see him struggle to regain his balance as you whip around.

He’s much closer than you thought, and you have to take a small step back. “What’s your number?”

“What?” He asks, reeling from the near-collision.

“How am I supposed to call if I don’t have your number?” You ask, and his eyebrows raise at the question. You totally skipped the ‘yes, thank you, what a great idea,’ part he’d been hoping for. But, he’ll take what he can get. He rattles off the number in an instant.

“Are you going to remember that?” He asks.

You nod noncommittally, “We’ll see.” The exasperated look on his face pulls another grin from you. He doesn't fight the smile off his face when he sees yours.

A car door slam breaks your extended eye contact. The other District Ten mentor breezes right past you and Finnick, clearly annoyed at being up so early. You know him well enough to know he’s going right back to bed on this train.

Darla, however, looks like hell-warmed over. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Shhhhh,” she holds a finger to her lips, the other clutching her head. Your expression drops as you take in her appearance.

“Are you hungover?!” You try to steal her dark sunglasses, but she’s too quick.

“Whatever, Mom,” she grumbles, “hurry up and kiss your boyfriend goodbye so we can leave.” She trudges further into the station, where a train is inevitably waiting for you. Your eyes go wide in embarrassment.

“Darla!” You yell, and she winces at the noise.

Finnick chuckles, “What happened to moderation?” She throws him the finger, earning further laughter.

You shake your head at her behavior, and when you turn back to Finnick you find he’s already looking at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, acting innocent. “Oh wait,” he snaps and doubles back to grab the flowers he arrived with. “You almost forgot these.”

You shake your head at him, smiling, “Can’t have that can we?”

“Safe travels,” he nods at you, turning to go. He makes it a few paces before you call out after him.

“Finnick,” he quickly turns at the sound of his name. When you recite his number back a surprised grin lights up his features. “The uh- the phone works both ways, you know. I’m not a bad listener.”

“Noted,” he nods, smiling. You smile back at him, a genuine one, and it makes you look younger. A loud call of your name from a train within the station makes the both of you laugh.

“Bye, Finnick,” you smile at him, giving a cute little wave. He returns it readily.

And he thought he was in trouble before.

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

@emerald-09

I also didn't really edit this one, but I think I like how it turned out? I'm not sure if I'll write more for this mini-universe since I have a few other Finnick ideas but we'll see

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction

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xo2dee · 3 months

Text

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

❦ Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

❦ Warnings: None

❦ Word Count: 1858

❦ Summary: In which your lover comes home late again, and you decide to cook for him for once, even if your skills are severely lacking compared to his.

❦ A/N: this is so self-indulgent bc my ass really cant cook that well soooo

❦ twitter - ao3

8:23 P.M.

You sighed. He was late again.

You knew it wasn’t his fault though, more than often your boyfriend got winded into working overtime and stayed past the hours that he wanted to. Still, as much as he complained of it, you would’ve figured he would dismiss any and all thoughts of overtime if presented with the opportunity and make his way home to you at the time of his clock out. You couldn’t help but sigh wistfully at and for your lovable workaholic man; he only worked overtime because it was essentially wired into his blood and he would never leave unless he knew his job was done.

However, you were more slightly upset that he had called you at lunch time – you felt bad, you didn’t wake up early enough to give him a sweet kiss off for work – and told you he’d be home on time to make you both dinner. You didn’t want to eat without him at all, notably when you were partly worried he might have been hurt or something else (something worse, really), and with that anxiety you knew you couldn’t eat. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t cook, but you also never wanted to eat dinner without him. He was by far a better cook than you were, sure yours was… passable, but Kento’s was beyond expectations, and you looked forward to it every time he offered to make you food. Any and every time Kento made you a meal you fell deeper in love, especially when you found out he put more time and skill into it for you.

Your ears perked up from your lounging position on your couch when you could hear the tall-tale sign of the front door opening and the distant sound of his footsteps walking inside. You nearly rejoiced knowing he was home safe and coming around to greet you, while your stomach gurgled in its own way to hearing of his arrival. Finally, you two could eat and then snuggle into bed together.

Kento called out your name, and you sat up from your position to greet him, “You’re home.”

He removed his glasses and his blazer, draping the latter across the back of your recliner and his glasses on the coffee table, and took a seat next to you, “Did I wake you?”

You watched as he leant back resting his head on the back of the couch, arms spread out on the back and legs wide open, as your eyes lingered on his tie slightly loosened, “No, I was waiting for you.”

“Hmm, have you eaten?”

You stretched your legs out, feeling your appetite begin to kick in, “No, you know I don’t eat dinner without you.”

His head lolled to look at you pointedly, dark eyes in disapproval, “I told you to go ahead and eat if I work overtime,” he grounded out and you nearly had half a mind to not jump into his lap from his tired, rough voice.

“Well,” you began, crossing your arms in rebuttal, “I didn’t know you were gonna work overtime, you usually call…” you sent him a long side look slightly annoyed he hadn’t called to let you know he was fine and would be home later than his usual time. You began to wonder if he had eaten at all that day.

Kento sighed and closed his eyes, making you take note of the minor shades of purple underneath them, “I’m sorry, it was a situation where I had to take care of it quickly. Give me a few moments and I can make us both something.”

Instantly you felt awful; he was really going to sacrifice some of his resting time he rarely ever got to still make the both of you the dinner he promised instead of just calling for takeout delivery. You knew of his occupation as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, it had to come out once the two of you began a relationship and he realized he wouldn’t be able to hide it from you when he tended to work long hours and often came home with bruises or bleeding from scratches that weren't well enough for excuses. Kento came home more tired than anything half the time and managed to make you dinner without so much of a complaint, as long as you were fed, healthy, and taken care of it seemed nothing else really mattered to him. He really prioritized you over himself all the time, much to your chagrin.

For once you wanted to dote on him and make him feel good.

Wait –

Your lover moved suddenly and you realized he was getting up to go to the kitchen, so you pounced. Literally, you pounced onto him and threw your arms around his neck to try and drag him down, but it left you in an awkward position with your lower half still on the couch and your upper half dangling onto his shoulders. Kento, ever-so observant, had wrapped his own arms around underneath your chest at the sudden movement, clearly startled by the abrupt assault, whilst giving you an arched brow. He parted his lips to speak, but you beat him to punch.

“How about I make us both something for once?”

The look he sent you nearly made you want to cry.

He cleared his throat, “Are you… sure?” he asked, a slight degree of unease in his voice. You knew what he was thinking: You’re going to cook? By the look in his eyes, he was traumatized by your last attempt…

You huffed, a new feeling of confidence in your rushing in your veins and your body overwhelmed with determination, “Of course I’m sure, you’re tired and need to relax for once.” You could do just fine if you really put your mind to it. Especially for someone like Kento.

“Seeing you is relaxing enough.” He was trying to reassure you; you knew his gimmick. Try to make you believe he wasn’t exhausted at all and you would give in to his sweet words and he’d make you both dinner, then afterwards he’d shower and completely collapse into bed with you tucked up under his chin. You were not having it that time around.

Smirking at him, you tightened your grip on his shoulders, “Sweet talking me isn’t gonna work this time.”

Kento sighed, clearly defeated as he sat you both back onto the couch, “Okay.” God, why did he sound so deflated?

Regardless, you smiled and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, untangling yourself from his hold, “Stay in here then,” you stood, his hands brushing against your ribs as you did so, and pointing at him with an index finger close enough to nearly brush his nose, “just relax and maybe nap, I’ll come get you when it’s done.” He didn’t look convinced – probably nervous you’d catch something on fire – but relaxed back nevertheless, giving you his own small smile.

Determined, you made way for your shared kitchen, snatching Kento’s fresh white apron as you did so. Sure, it looked goofy on you and the haphazard way you tied it, but Kento wore it exclusively every time he cooked so it was only right you did the same. You had your mind set to make something you both enjoyed – or you thought you both would enjoy. You knew your way around a kitchen, how bad could it turn out to be?

...Yikes

You decided not to answer that when you saw his face as he tasted your 'meal'. His eyebrows slightly rose towards his hairline and his mouth twitched nearly into a grimace, but it almost looked like he was swallowing cough medicine when he finally did get around to it. Kento sat his utensil down after and cleared his throat before clasping his hands together on the table, looking up to you while you hovered over him.

“It’s great.” Bless him, he never wanted to hurt your feelings... even if it was the trivial of things.

You whined and threw your head back, “You hate it.”

“I could never hate anything you do.”

“Don’t be sweet, I know it’s nasty and you’re just trying to make me feel better,” you pouted and stared down at your own plate, untouched as you had waited for him to try the food first. Still, you were curious and picked up your own utensil to try it out as you sat down at your spot at the table. Kento was watching you looking almost concerned as you finally lifted the food into your mouth for your taste buds to feel.

You chewed and swallowed. Bland, burnt and…

"..."

“...”

“Kento, this tastes like ass.”

A sigh fell out of him as he placed his chin onto his fist, “Maybe so, though I don’t think that really matters,” he gazed at you as you fiddled with his apron strings, a rather strong sense of adoration radiating off of him, “It’s the thought of you making food for me after a long day of work.”

“Even if it’s bad?”

“Even if it’s bad.”

Your cheeks warmed from the words as you gave him an embarrassed glance, knowing the entire situation felt incredibly domestic and you felt like a spouse cooking for their husband. It hadn’t been a topic discussed between you two yet, though it was always lingering in the background given how deep your relationship went and how long you two been together. No doubt you knew he was thinking the same.

You stood after that, wiping your hands onto his apron to avoid looking at his face, “Yeah, well, I guess I should clean these since this tastes like shit,” you moved to grab his plate, yet the tug from the front of the apron sent you into his lap as he leaned back to situate you both into a more comfortable position as he cradled you against his chest. He’s being awfully bold tonight. You snuck a peek at him almost shied away from his intense stare.

You rested your hands on his shoulders as he spoke, “You should wear my apron more often.”

Sending him a raised brow, you let out a small laugh, “How can I wear your apron more when I can’t cook?”

“Who said wearing it only while you cook?”

You smacked his chest and voiced your earlier thoughts, “You’re being awfully bold tonight.”

A small smile graced him as he lifted you more to press his mouth against your temple, kissing it a few times, “I can’t help with it with how you look wearing it.”

You sighed and smiled, shaking your head while you snuggled into him by rubbing your cheek against his to enjoy the moment of domesticity between you two. Though the moment was broken by the loud growl of your stomach. You sheepishly peered up at him as he gazed back to you with the affectionate look he always had.

“I’ll call for takeout, and then we clean this together.”

Your response was just to kiss him for his sweetness, and you kept the apron on for the remainder of the time.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kasien #source: animaterglittergraphics-n-more

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

You’re poly!marauders writings literally soothe my anxiety I love it so much. Could I please request poly!marauders comforting reader the night before a big presentation she’s super anxious for because she hates public speaking. I feel like they’d be so soft and encouraging when they realise how sad and anxious she is about it. You’re the best lovely 💗💖🩷

Thanks sweetheart!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 957 words

James erupts in applause as you click to the final slide, and Sirius sticks his fingers in his mouth, whistling loudly.

“Fantastic job!” James gushes, fawning. “Never seen anything like it. Will this presentation be considered for a nobel prize?”

“It ought to be,” Remus agrees, also clapping, albeit more normally. “That was great, dove. They’re gonna love it.”

“Are you sure?” You look to the screen uncertainty. “The ‘thank you’ slide isn’t too informal?”

“No,” Remus confirms. “I think it’s the perfect way to signal that you’re done.”

“But did I talk too fast? I do that sometimes.”

He gives you an odd look. “Did you think you were talking too fast?”

You shrug, looking at your pajama bottoms like there’s something interesting down there. “I can’t always hear it myself. Maybe I should run it through one more time, and you can let me know?”

“Wait, again?” Sirius sounds slightly alarmed. “This is a very interesting topic, but I think six practice rounds is probably enough. What, are you gonna give us a test or something?”

You cringe. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you captive. I can practice it by myself.”

You close your laptop, thinking of going to your room, but James says, “Wait, sweetheart, why do you think you need to run through it so many times? It seems like you’ve got it.”

“I just need it to be, like, muscle memory,” you reply. “A lot of the time, once I get up there, I sort of…it’s almost like I can’t think anymore, and if I don’t know the presentation super well I won’t know what to say.”

“I don’t think you need to worry as much as you are.” James’ voice has gone soft in that way he does when he wants to be extra kind. “Every time you’ve run through it tonight, it’s been flawless.”

You scoff. “Yeah, because it’s just you guys.”

“Oi,” Sirius pipes up, faux indignant. “I’ll have you know we are the most critical audience you’ll ever meet. If you can do it in front of us, those dolts will be no problem.”

“Yeah, don’t be nervous.” James gives you a smile. “You’re going to do great.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done,” you sigh.

Remus pats the arm of his chair, and you abandon your laptop, letting him pull you into his lap. Your boyfriends have the ability to bring emotions you didn’t even know you had straight to the surface, and you feel unexpectedly teary as he kisses your temple. “Would it make you feel better if we came to watch tomorrow?” he asks lightly.

You give him a small, sad smile. “Thanks, but even if you did, everyone else would still be there. It’d be a pointless trip for you.”

“Not if you could have a hug afterwards.” He sets his chin atop your head like he’s going to make you a fortress out of his own body. “Or if you just want support in the audience, we don’t mind.”

“I appreciate it,” you reply, “but I’ll be okay. I just need to get it down so that I don’t mess up.”

“And what if you do mess up?” Sirius asks, characteristically blunt. “Would it really be the worst thing in the world?”

You blush, and Remus rubs your upper arm comfortingly. “No,” you admit. “It would just be embarrassing. It would kind of ruin my day, to be honest.”

Sirius nods, looking at you evenly. “But then you get to come home, and it’ll be over. Maybe we can get you a treat or something to have tomorrow evening after you get home. That way you get a reward no matter what.”

You fidget in Remus’ hold, and you know they’re not going to like what you’re thinking, but you say it anyway. “I won’t deserve a reward if I mess up, though.”

“That’s not true,” James fires back instantly. “The reward doesn’t have to be only for if you give your presentation without a single hitch. It could just be for trying.”

You’re quiet, pleading silently for a change in topic. Remus drops another kiss on the side of your head. “You’ve worked hard on this, dovey. It’s really good, and even if everything doesn’t go as planned tomorrow, you still put a lot into it,” he pauses, stooping his head so you’re looking at him. “You deserve to feel good about yourself.”

You try to shrink, but he won’t let you, trapping you with an immovable arm around your shoulders. Remus is strong when he wants to be. He raises his eyebrows, a tiny smirk playing on his lips, until you smile.

“Okay, you’re right,” you capitulate, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Thank you guys.”

“Maybe it’d help if you got the presentation off your mind and just relaxed for the rest of the night,” James suggests. “There’s no point in fixating on it anymore, you’ve done all you can.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you say, and then Sirius is squishing into you and Remus’ chair, sitting half on top of both of you.

“Our poor baby,” he whines, words muffled against your cheek. “I’m sorry I made fun of your practice, sweetpea. I didn’t know you were so nervous.”

You laugh as he moves down to your neck. “It’s okay, it’s—quit, that tickles!”

Sirius ignores you, pecking relentlessly up and down your neck as Remus struggles to keep the both of you from falling off the armchair. “You’re going to do so good,” he promises ardently. “You know that, right?”

“She doesn’t even have to know it,” James speaks for you as you gasp for breath between giggles. “We know well enough to make up for her.”

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ginnsbaker · 8 months

Text

it's just dinner

Summary: Another installment from the Dentist AU, sequel to the follow up; You and Wanda enjoy a quiet dinner at your home--or so you thought

Word count: 3k | Tags: Fluff, Some Blood (lol), Wanda being clumsy

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Author's note: There will be one more installment after this. It's been really fun writing something so wholesome :)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

Two hours earlier

Every attempt at a date with Wanda Maximoff is a tragicomic misadventure.

The first attempt was promising: a quaint dinner at a hidden gem of a restaurant. Yet, on that very day, your apartment's plumbing decided to rebel, turning your living space into a mini lake. You remember Wanda's sympathetic chuckle on the phone, suggesting a rain check. The next date was set, but it still wasn’t in the cards. Just as you were picking out a shirt, Wanda’s phone buzzed. An urgent mission. She sent an apologetic message, punctuated with a little red-faced emoji. “Next time,” she promised.

Your third attempt seemed foolproof. A coffee date, something short and sweet. Yet, irony dripped as you got a call from the dental clinic. An emergency extraction that couldn't wait. As you gloved up, you couldn’t help but think of the universe’s odd sense of humor.

(Maybe it's trying to send a message, and you've been too stubborn to listen.)

But resilience is your middle name. So, here's attempt number four.

A cozy dinner and a film at your place. Simple. No grand expectations. If, by chance, this date still falls through, at least you're already home. Your bed awaits, just steps away, to provide solace for any potential disappointments.

As the clock ticks closer to the agreed-upon time, you arrange the table, blending classic dinnerware with contemporary accents. Wine glasses shimmer under the subdued lights, their elegant curves catching the candle's dance. The gentle melodies of a classical piano accompany the inviting aroma of the goulash, creating a setting that might just captivate Wanda's heart.

Not that you’re already aiming for her heart. That'd be rushing things, wouldn't it? Only a week ago, you and Wanda were each wary of the other—you, daunted by her powers, and her, intimidated by, well, you.

A mere dentist.

In your bedroom, you've changed outfits multiple times, finally choosing one that finds the right balance between casual and slightly dressy. Every detail matters, from the watch you're wearing to the cologne you've spritzed.

Sure, there's a hint of anxiety, but above all, you're buzzing with anticipation. You can picture it—Wanda's appreciative smile as she digs into the goulash, both of you snuggled up during the movie, and then chatting about everything and nothing as you both start to get sleepy.

Your phone buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You see a message from Wanda: “On my way. Can't wait!” accompanied by a heart emoji. Your spirits rise instantly. You send a silent plea to every god out there who’s watching, hoping for no more mishaps tonight.

Time seems to move both too slow and too fast. Every tiny noise from outside makes you jump, wondering if it's her arrival. You go over your preparations one more time: the temperature of the goulash, the volume of the music, the soft glow of the candles.

A soft knock sounds at your door. The moment has arrived. Your heart races as you move to answer it, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You open the door, and there she stands—Wanda Maximoff, perhaps the most powerful Avenger, clad in skin-tight jeans, a long coat over her shoulders and the same nervous smile you’re wearing right now.

“Hi,” she murmurs softly, that European lilt making it sound almost musical.

“Hey, Wanda,” your voice quivers ever so slightly. “Please, come in.”

She steps inside, and you instinctively reach out, helping her slip off the long coat. The soft fabric is warm from her body heat, and you can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you suggest with a gesture towards the plush sofa. She gracefully obliges, her eyes scanning the room.

She takes a moment, head tilted ever so slightly, her nose twitching as it picks up on the scent wafting from the kitchen. “Is that... goulash I smell?” she says, eyes twinkling in delight.

A pleased chuckle escapes you. “Someone's got a good nose.”

In the midst of tweaking the table's placements, you're painfully conscious of every inch of space between you and her. Wanda Maximoff, right in your apartment, seated gracefully on your sofa. The room temperature is already set at the lowest, but you feel unexpectedly warm in your clothes.

You take a few deep breaths. Center. Ground. Every preparation led to this moment.

Distracted by your own thoughts, you almost miss the soft rustling from the living room. Wanda's eyes are now fixed on the elegantly wrapped gift resting on your coffee table. The parchment paper, crinkled just right, holds a tag with her name in your neat handwriting.

She arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “For me?” she asks, her finger running over her name on the tag.

“Uh, yes,” you stammer, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I thought...well, it's our first, you know, date... and I wanted to get you something.”

She gives you a soft, appreciative smile, her fingers deftly unwrapping the gift. The sight of the Sokovian cookbook draws a genuine, surprised chuckle from her. “You really did your homework,” she teases.

“You're worth the effort,” the words slip out before you can reign them in, and suddenly the room feels a few degrees warmer. But Wanda doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she seems... pleased.

“The jasmine rice will be ready in just a few minutes,” you mention, as you drape the apron on a hook by the kitchen entrance. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. It's just dinner. With Wanda Maximoff. No pressure.

You then make your way to join her on the sofa, deliberately choosing a spot that's comfortably distant. Not too close to be presumptuous, but not too far to seem distant. Or so you think.

However, Wanda doesn't let the spacing go unnoticed. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?” she asks with a playful pout.

You blink, momentarily lost for words. “Oh, I just... thought I'd give you some space?”

Wanda smirks, tilting her head slightly, “You're sweet, but you can sit a bit closer if you'd like.”

Swallowing your nerves, you slide a tad bit closer, closing the gap. Now, your knees are almost touching. The proximity introduces you to more intricate details: the scent of her perfume, the subtle shadow on her lids, the faint tint on her lips.

She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Much better, don't you think?”

You gulp, trying to swallow down your body’s reaction to her voice. “Yes,” you breathe out, attempting to find your bearings again. “Definitely better.”

“So,” Wanda starts, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “How does someone like you end up as a dentist?”

“Well, my dad was one. After high school, I honestly didn't have a clear path in mind.” You shrug, your gaze distant as you recollect. “It was kind of a 'fall into the family business' scenario.”

“But do you enjoy it? Being a dentist, I mean.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice,” you confess, a far-off look in your eyes. “I had other hobbies—gardening, painting. There was a time when I thought of diving into the arts.”

“But you didn't?”

You shake your head. “Practicality won over passion, I guess. Dentistry is stable, and I do like it.”

She studies you for a moment. “Do you ever regret it?”

You ponder for a second, thinking about all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. But then, your eyes find Wanda's, and a smile creeps onto your face. “Well, being a dentist did allow our paths to cross. So, in that sense, I can't really complain, can I?”

Wanda's cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink, the faint blush enhancing her striking features.

You’re not entirely sure how you’ve survived so far on this date.

Clearing your throat to ease the building tension, you attempt to shift the topic. “Speaking of paths, how did you end up becoming an Avenger? If you don't mind me asking.”

Wanda's expression quickly darkens, and an immediate regret washes over you. You wish you could retract your question, hating the thought of being the one to bring such sadness to her eyes.

Wanda tells you her story with a distant look in her eyes, like she's replaying a bad dream. She tells you about the Battle of Sokovia, how she lost her twin brother in the midst of it, and how she felt totally alone afterward. With no family or close friends left, she ended up with the Avengers. At first it was a choice of convenience, but she soon started to think of them as her new family.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” you say, not knowing what else to say. You’ve never experienced such pain and loss, especially with your parents and sister living in different states, leading their own lives.

“Thank you,” she whispers, the edges of her eyes glistening. “It's... difficult. Sometimes more than others.”

The soft beep of the rice cooker slices through the heavy atmosphere. You turn towards the kitchen, then back to Wanda, offering an apologetic smile. “Looks like the rice is ready,” you mention, almost sheepishly.

She laughs softly at your politeness and says, “Good. I’m starving.”

Wanda Maximoff has a big appetite.

This becomes amusingly clear when she polishes off her plate and shyly requests more rice, eventually consuming the entire portion you'd prepared for the evening. Honestly, you hadn't anticipated this outcome, especially since you weren't entirely sure how goulash was supposed to taste. But seeing Wanda devour nearly all of it not only boosts your confidence in your cooking but also in how the date is progressing.

Honestly, it's been ages since you've been on a date. You keep wracking your brain for topics, wondering if you're saying the right things. But thankfully, it's Wanda who takes the lead, her inquiries steering the chat in various directions. And each time she poses a question, that unique Sokovian accent of hers tugs at you, almost hypnotic. With every word, every soft-spoken syllable, you can feel yourself being drawn closer into Wanda's magnetic pull. It's both exhilarating and terrifying—mostly because you're not sure if you ever want to resist.

Just as you're about to suggest some movies to watch, Wanda's phone rings. You watch her facial expression shift slightly as she answers, her tone professional and measured. “I understand. I'll be right there in an hour,” she says, ending the call and turning to you with a regretful look.

At least you both got through a nice meal. Still, you’re a little disappointed.

“It's the compound. I've got to head back soon. Not an urgent situation, but...” Wanda trails off, her eyes reflecting her regret.

“How long do we have left together?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“About thirty minutes?” Wanda estimates. She then glances at the aftermath of your dinner, “Let me help you clean up.”

“You really don't have to.”

“It's easy. I can just use my powers,” she says, beaming a little proudly.

“I’m intrigued,” you say.

The idea of seeing her powers up close excites you, but as she begins to wave her hand, intending to levitate the dishes, something goes wrong. A misdirected wave of her magic, perhaps due to her eyes being trained on you as she watches your every reaction, causes a sharp knife from the counter to fly towards you. You only realize what's happening when you feel a sting on your arm.

Blood starts to seep through your shirt and Wanda's eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god, I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry,” she stammers, her face pale.

You look down, trying to assess the damage. It's not too deep, but it's definitely more than a scratch.

“Don't worry, it was just an accident,” you reassure her, but the sharp pain suggests you might need medical attention.

Wanda immediately wraps your wound with a clean towel and offers to take you to the hospital. It's quite the unexpected turn for your first date, and as the evening winds down with you in a hospital room, getting stitches, you can't help but chuckle at the situation.

Wanda's face, however, is a picture of raw concern, which to be frank, you find endearing, albeit in a dire context. She stays uncharacteristically silent, her expressive eyes darting between the cut on your arm and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room.

“Hey,” you break the silence, “Talk to me.”

“You know... maybe it's best if we don't see each other again,” she begins, hesitantly. “It's just the first date, and I've already sent you to the hospital.”

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

And you’ve yet to kiss her.

(You really, really want to.)

“You can't break up with me,” you blurt out.

She looks bewildered, “Why not?”

“Because,” you smirk, wincing a bit as the doctor tightens a stitch, “We're not together. Yet. And if this is your way of getting out of a second date, you're going to have to try harder.”

She looks at you, searching your face as if trying to discern whether you're joking or not. But you're serious. Deadly serious.

Then an idea comes to her. “Fine, then I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“What–”

“I mean, if we're doing this, it's so I can properly end—”

“No,” you say, your smile widening, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wanda Maximoff, I don’t want to be your girlfriend.”

Her expression grows more solemn, her tone somber. “You need to understand. Being with me is nowhere near normal. I’m dangerous. Everything around me, everything I deal with—it's all dangerous.”

The smile doesn’t leave your lips. “I understand,” you say, “But I still refuse to be your girlfriend.”

“You don’t give up do you?”

“Ask me again on our second date,” you suggest, nodding appreciatively at the doctor to subtly hint it's time for him to leave, as he’s been watching you both fall into each other a bit too long now.

“And I can’t have you blasting ‘Lips of an Angel’ throughout the compound if we call it quits now, can I?”

Wanda's eyes widen in horror, her hands flying to her face. “How did you even know about that?”

“Vision,” you chuckle. At this point, you’ve totally lost it for this girl. “He sent me a message, thanking me on behalf of Natasha for finally getting you to switch off that track.”

Wanda groans, her face still partially hidden behind her hands. “I can't believe he did that. I'm never going to hear the end of it now.”

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, leaning in closer. “I think it’s adorable.”

Still, Wanda remains quiet, and even though she’s the one who can read minds, you can hear just how loud her thoughts are. Gently, you grasp her hand and stand, pulling her up with you.

“What are we doing?”

“I’ve been patched up,” you note, motioning to your arm. “I’d rather not end our date inside a hospital. Come on.”

You insist on driving her back to the compound, despite Wanda's deep concern that you’d be able to handle a stick shift given your recent injury. However, after teasingly reminding her that she’s technically "in debt" for the unintentional knife incident, she finally gives in.

You really just don’t want the night to end with her simply walking away.

And while the two of you bickered over the technicality that Wanda can't really break up with you, there's an underlying fear in you that perhaps this might be the last time you see her.

The drive ends up being a quick one, and in just fifteen minutes, you’re pulling up the compound’s spacious driveway.

Both of you sit there for what seems like an eternity, neither willing to make the first move. Your heart races, beating loudly in your chest, as you keep stealing glances at Wanda, trying to read her expression.

“I... um... had a good time tonight, despite the… yeah,” you stammer out, trying to fill the silence. “Thank you for being there, Wanda.”

She nods, lips parting as if she's about to say something but doesn't. “Thank you for the meal and the cookbook,” she finally says, her voice soft, almost fragile. “And I'm really sorry about your arm.”

“You're welcome, Wanda,” you reply, your heart heavy in your chest.

She offers a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes, and opens the car door. For a fleeting second, the thought of pulling her back crosses your mind, but you squash it down, not wanting to push your luck. As she steps out, you hope for a 'see you soon' or even just a casual 'later'. But nothing comes. And with a quiet thud, the door closes behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You rest your forehead against the steering wheel, mentally kicking yourself for letting Wanda do the dishes. Maybe none of this would've happened, and she might still be looking forward to another date. You're so lost in your ‘what-ifs’ that you almost miss the sound of hurried footsteps approaching.

Suddenly, the passenger door swings open, and before you can react, Wanda is back inside. She leans over the center console, gently cradling your face with one hand and pulling you into a soft, tentative kiss.

It's over in a heartbeat, leaving you both breathless.

She pulls away slightly, cheeks flushed, and her eyes brighter. “I didn't want to leave things like that,” she admits.

You smile, still in shock from the unexpected moment. “I'm glad you didn't,” you say, leaning in for another kiss.

Even if Wanda had thrown every knife in the room at you, it would still rank as the best date ever.

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