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miserycanary · 25 days

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WHAT YOU'RE MEANT TO DO ᡣ𐭩

pairing: alpha!Simon 'Ghost' Riley & workcaholic omega fem!reader

synopsis: you've lived your whole life without any problems due to the status of being beta, and you liked it that way. It doesn't interfere with your work, and suddenly you're informed you're an omega? That can't be.

tags: small arguments, smut like.. actually, dumbification, slight size kink, belly bulge, hair pulling, praise, degradation, breeding kink??, daddy kink, slight overstimulation if you squint, spit kink if you live in delusions

You had a routine you religiously followed. The day starts with waking up at 4, never having trouble getting up because you always look forward to work. You leave the apartment you share with your boyfriend at 5:15— maybe later than that when Simon feels clingy and asks you to stay for that day. You’ll indulge for 5 minutes before pressing a kiss on his chapped lips, promising you’ll come home early for him which seems to satisfy him.

Now you knew something was wrong when you woke up, exhausted, and all your bones weighed like a ton. Thinking back to last night, the clock displayed 10:15 when you finally resigned to bed, even unable to satisfy Simon (which he understood), opting to cuddle with you and nosing around your neck.

Your groan woke up Simon, his muscled figure making the bed creak as he followed your figure almost dragging itself to the bathroom. “Sweetheart?” he calls out, worry evident in his voice. “I’m fine, baby. Just feeling a little under the weather. Nothing some meds won’t fix,” the reassurance slips off your tongue easily despite all the alarms in your mind begging you to rest.

Your breathing got labored as your body tried to function. Your lover seems to have taken your word for it and went back to sleep, making you crack a smile.

Finally, you managed to get ready.. at 5:40. On the way, you could feel stares pointing at you. Did you smell? ‘Did I shower? I.. forgot. No, no... I did..’ you think to yourself, putting your things down on the table and letting your legs rest. “What kind of fucking sickness is this?” mumbling to yourself. Your eyebrows furrow, cursing at the world and complaining about the medicine not taking effect.

Time seemed to go fast but unbearably slow. It seemed like you could only recognize snippets throughout the day. Next thing you know, you hear your boyfriend’s worrying voice coming from your phone. Since when did you call? Nevermind. You hung up. Your mind flashes forward and the bright shine of your laptop looks back. For quite some time, you don’t recall moving, just looking dazed. ‘Water. I need water’ You finally snap back to reality, standing up. The world suddenly swirled and you found yourself on the floor.

‘Oh, shit. I-I need to get up... Fuck, my legs won’t move'

Tears swelled in your eyes, feeling helpless as people started to crowd you. Amid the commotion, a thundering voice booms out, calling for you. “Y/N!” Suddenly, all you could feel was the cool feeling of your boyfriend’s skin on yours. His scent fills your senses. God, you could live off this. “Babe.. why are you here?” you look at him, sighing in relief when you feel his palm pressed against your cheek. “You called me, slurring your words.” His voice was so deep and rough, you thought. Involuntarily, you squeezed your legs when you felt something gush in between. Your period? No, no.. too early. Unaware, everyone seemed to catch up to what’s wrong with you. Everyone rushed to distance themselves from you when Simon held you protectively, hiding you away from everyone and glaring at those who seemed to look at you like prey ready to be devoured.

Before you lost consciousness, all you could think of was you forgot to save your document. Then the next thing you wake up to is your apartment’s ceiling and the clattering from your kitchen with heavy footsteps. You could only assume it’s your boyfriend trying to cook. “Ghost..?” you call out, voice hoarse. In an instant, he was by your side with water in hand. “Hi, baby,” he starts, pushing the glass near your lips. You whine when you can’t even move to take a sip, and he melts at that. With gentleness, he tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls your head back, tilting the glass. “Open,” he commanded, which your body seemed to obey, your mouth opening and letting the cold water relieve your parched throat. As some droplets escape and cascade down your cleavage, you moan as it momentarily relives the heat your skin radiates.

“Love...” your boyfriend starts with the tone you know he uses when it’s about something that will upset you. “You’re required by the doctor to stay home for 2 weeks,” he continues, which finally tips you off. “No! I-I have a project due in 5 days, okay? I just need some paracetamol.” Insisting, you move to get up but you feel your boyfriend’s palm on your waist pinning you down. “No, bunny. You’re staying.” You glare at him in return. A part of you was aware that he was doing this for your sake, but you were too stubborn to let him. “Ghost, stop. I’m not in the mood for any lovey shits, okay? Just let me be,” you snap. Usually, when you get this pissed, he lets you be and just rushes by your side when you inevitably pass out due to over-exhaustion. This time, he doesn’t.

His stare was firm and commanding unlike the usual. Your Simon was soft, always there to clean up your mess. He never forces you to rest nor to listen to him— even if it is for the better. “Bunny, it’s not normal sickness, okay?” he still calmly explains, brushing the stray hair away from your face but you only slap his hand away, still frustrated. Seeing that you’re getting an attitude, he sighs and kisses your temple. “Do you know what your secondary gender is?” At his question, you stare at him like he asked you if you know the sky is blue. “Fucking hell, Ghost. Of course! I told you this the moment we met. I’m a beta, okay? Can you let me go now?” you hissed, attempting to raise his heavy hand of your hand yet he persisted and pressed harder. “No, princess,” he looks away in contemplation. “I rushed you to the doctor earlier, and… your testing was a mistake. You’re a freshly developed omega and it was advised you.. naturally let your heat happen.”

There were a few beats of silence before you cackled, tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah, right, babe. As if. Can you just fucking let me go?” The news of you being an omega sounded fake— because it is, you scoff. “I’m not joking,” he mumbles with a new profound authority. After realizing he was serious, everything came crashing down on you. This couldn’t be. You loved being a beta. It doesn’t interfere with your life. You can’t be an omega. You can’t! No, it’s fake. This was a joke! Heats?? You?? No, no. That’s not true–

“Y/N! Breathe!” Simon’s voice snapped you out of your haze, looking down to see your nails pressed so hard on his skin that’s letting out droplets of blood. Sobs were robbed out of your body, refusing to accept the change in you, yelling at your boyfriend to let you go. His figure immediately wrapped itself around you, pressing your face on his chest and nuzzling your head. “Calm down, bunny. It’s fine... Just calm down,” he soothes, putting his hand under your shirt to rub circles on your burning skin, and trying to get your breathing to match his. His shirt was drenched with tears but he didn’t mind. He muttered endless praises in your ear about how brave you are, and how you’ll be fine because he’s there. Ghost is there for you.

“I’m here, sweetheart” he cooed, pressing a kiss on your ear and laying the both of you down on the bed. He covered you entirely with his figure, protecting you from the world. With a final hiccup, you lose yourself to sleep and exhaustion, settling down and letting yourself be vulnerable with him with his pheromones blanketing your senses as if he’s the only thing there.

Waking up with a gasp, a layer of sweat covered your whole body when your attention was suddenly redirected to the wet spot below you that seemed to seep into the bedsheets. Hot panic took you over and you suddenly felt ashamed. Did you pee yourself out of nervousness? Clamouring, you stumble as you try to wipe the spot away, whimpering when another sudden gush dripped down your legs which woke Simon.

“Sweetheart? What’s up with ‘ya?”

You cry, rushing to his side and throwing yourself at him while apologizing profusely. “I-I’m sorry! Baby, I’m sorry... Please forgive me. I didn’t know!”

“Calm down, calm down.. tell me what’s happening,” his voice immediately calmed you down, your hands still clenching tight on his shirt and sticking your face in his scent gland. In an instant, the strong smell of whiskey, ground, and cigar invaded your nose but you welcomed it. The aroma calms down your nerves and allows you to talk without tumbling over your words. “I-I.. peed,” you mumble in shame that surprised your lover, but it seems the situation clicked in his head and he only responded with a chuckle.

“No, baby... You didn’t pee,” he sighs, grabbing your waist and sitting you sideways on his lap, while he scoots backward to lean on the headboard. “It’s something omega releases in substitution to lube,” he starts his hand slowly peeling away your shorts, revealing your soaked panties. “This is slick,” his finger swipes along the covered lips of your pussy, a string sticking to his pad. He brings his soaked fingers near you when the smell suddenly hit him. You smell like cherry-fucking-pie.

‘Fuck, she smells so sweet. No, I need to be patient. It’s her first heat’ he thinks while he watches your eyes observe with fascination. He nosed around your scent gland taking in your pheromones that sent blood rushing to his dick. His hand pulls your panties to the side to directly flick on your clit, pressing his thumb down and circling. You whimper, holding onto his shirt as your legs instinctively close. Everything was heightened. It felt like you’d come any minute just from your clit getting pressed down.

“Spread them.” As if your body was possessed, your thighs separate, allowing Simon to completely slip off your underwear and press a single digit inside of you. The reaction was instant. Your back arches and your toes curl in pleasure, red chipped nails digging into his bicep, but he was too immersed in watching your pretty cunt take what he gives you to even care. “Good girl,” he praises, pressing his lips against your ear. Tilting your head to the side, you attempt on taking cover on his bicep, but Ghost only grabs your face, tilting it back.

“Daddy needs to hear you, princess”

Your moans got higher as he added another finger and pumped them, borderline abusing your cunt. But you needed this. How else will you take your alpha’s massive cock? Looking down on you, he melts as babbles and whines were the only things you could muster. Your body writhes in pleasure, eyes rolling back in pleasure. “S-Simon! I’m... a-ah!.. close!” Feeling your release climbing, your pussy clenches around his digits while urging him to go faster; just a little more push to your climax. A scandalized gasp was ripped out of you when he suddenly stopped completely. “No, how do you ask to cum properly?” his voice grumbles, squishing your cheeks while your face is soaked with tears. “I wanna cum, Simon. Please please please–” he cuts you off, tightening his hold on your face and pressing his thumb hard on your clit. “No, not Simon.”

With that, you finally realized the key to your release. “Daddy, please. I wanna cum, please. P-put your fingers in again. Daddy, please” you whine, a hand releasing his bicep to place itself on his nape, pulling him down so you can messily press a kiss. Satisfied, he plunged 3 fingers in, forcing your cunt to take it. “There we go. Was that so hard, princess? Was it hard being polite to daddy?” he teases, pressing down on your sweet spot. His tongue licks around your mouth, sucking on the wet appendage and letting his saliva trickle down into yours.

You felt so tight around his digits, and the thought of how you’ll feel around him made his cock ache. The hard-on pressing against your lower back which lifted as the coil inside of you snapped. He watches with adoration as you soak his fingers and the bedsheets, a sense of accomplishment bubbling up inside his chest, making precum dribble out of his tip and stain his sweatpants. “Good girl,” the praise slips off his tongue absentmindedly as he sneaks a hand behind you, untying his pants and pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Still high from pleasure, he manhandles your body to the position he wants. Pushing your body forward so your face is planted on the sheets with your hips resting on two-stacked pillows. Amid pleasure, you got brought back when overstimulation ran through your nerves, feeling Ghost’s cock fill you up, inch by inch. You didn’t even realize when he had taken his bottoms off. The only thought running through your head was him, his smell, his overpowering pheromones, and his cock. God, his cock was driving you crazy.

“Babygirl, you need to loosen up,” he orders, slithering a hand under you to swirl around your clit. “No!.. oh! s-sensitive!” you whine, sobbing onto the pillow. “I don’t care, sweetie. You had your fill, now daddy needs his. Won’t you be a good girl and help me? I promise I’ll reward you,” he mutters, his chest pressing on your back. Driven with the need to be good for him, you let your cunt relax to take him in.

Slowly rutting his hips, he tries to thrust more of his cock inside of you. “Slowly, baby. Breathe for me. There we go. Perfect,” he groans, pressing his forehead on your nape when he finally felt himself completely buried inside your hot, wet cunt. “Such a perfect pussy. You want to make me proud, don’t ya?” You only whine in response, then a loud moan ripped out of you when you felt a subtle bulge on your stomach which got pressed down onto the pillow under the weight Ghost was putting down you. “Fuck, you’re so small, aren’t ya? Such a perfect cocksleeve. What a behaved slut for me.” Without a warning, he snaps his hips, thrusting in and out of you without mercy; like a carnal animal with the intent to just breed. God, this is heaven. This is where he’s supposed to be. With you, inside of you.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good, ma” he moans, your voice matching his. “Ah-ah-ah! Fast! Too fa— oh! Too fast,” you sobbed yet it felt so good. Every sense of yours was drowning with the thought of your mate, of Simon. You were so lost in pleasure, hands sprawled out on the sheets and gripping, trying to crawl away from the overwhelming pleasure. Ghost only clicks his tongue, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you back, filling you to the brim again.

“Daddy was too lenient on you huh? Maybe I need to keep you here. You won’t ever need to use that pretty head of yours, worrying about nothing, sweetie. I’ll do everything for you, okay? Your alpha will do everything for you.” You feel him pull back with the tip catching on your rim. As if given a break, you take a breath but suddenly everything was knocked out of you when he bottomed out with one thrust.

“F-fuck, you feel amazing. You just need to be good to me, okay? You just need to be a good mama for our children, stay at home, and let me use your pretty pussy when daddy needs to relieve stress” Pinning your waist down, it was like he actually sees you as a personal cocksleeve, using your body for his own release.

Thrusting faster, Ghost’s moans start to pitch higher, his hand tangling itself in your locks to pull your face from the pillow. Locking lips, he moans louder while pressing down on the bulge in your stomach, helping him get closer from the fact you’re so small— so easily to manhandle and to use freely. Maybe he should actually just keep you here. You won’t need to work. No need to stress that pretty head of yours over trivial stuff. He just needs you to stay with him.

The thought of you being swollen with his baby and staying inside the apartment waiting for him was the final thing that sent him to the edge. His tip spurting out cum filled you up to no end, kissing the entrance of your womb as he buried himself as deep as possible. Your hands scramble to hold onto something, afraid to get lost in the pleasure; scared of being a slave to the mind-numbing pleasure. You dig your nails on his thigh, sobbing and moaning in pleasure as his release triggered another of yours. Feeling so full, Ghost finally stopped cumming and lets you go. His spent body collapsing alongside you in exhaustion. Silence ensued between you guys, basking in each other’s presence. After a while, he got up to grab a towel to clean you up, knowing you’d be insatiable once your omega instincts completely settled.

Feeling his lips kiss your temple, his rough yet sultry deep voice (or maybe that’s just your love for him talking) telling you to relax made you purr. As you watch him take care of you, scrubbing down both yours and his spent off your body got you thinking. Maybe this is where you’re supposed to be. Doing nothing but behaving for your lover, keeping Ghost happy.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: AHHHH!! It's my first full-length fanfic which happens to be my very first explicit and descriptive smut. Please be gentle with the criticisms!! Also, do you guys want a König version? Please comment if yes.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

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check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

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monzamash · 1 year

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itch — charles leclerc

charles leclerc x you (femreader) | 2.9k summary – spotting charles' weight session in your home gym. that's it. warnings – 18+ (sex, course language) a//n – had to re-upload because the tags glitched out but here's the second fic in the #monzamash special x

The soft, distant thrum of music playing was the only sound travelling through your otherwise peaceful home. You had set yourself up for a quiet afternoon with a glass of iced tea, catching up on work that you’d missed while travelling to a couple of races, watching your boyfriend do his thing. Charles always gave you the VIP treatment, making sure your time away from your life was worth it and of course it was. But nothing could beat the summer break at home in Monaco, with him by your side for a change.

Just as you settled into the couch, an almost finished lemon popsicle in hand and your laptop steadied on your lap, you heard your name being called from the other end of the house. The voice echoing through the hallway belonged to Charles and there was a part of you that wanted to pretend like you hadn't heard him, feeling way too comfy and in the zone to get up again if it wasn’t important.

That was until you heard your name again, a little louder this time and you knew that you couldn’t ignore him. Your man was persistent and even though you loved your time with him during the break and over the off-season, it did become apparent that when he was home, he always wanted you close by to talk to. Like he was trying to make up for lost time but he forgot that even though he had time off, your work life continued much to your dismay.

But you were both working on finding the right balance.

"Where are you?" You shouted back and pulled yourself out of your spot on the couch, on a mission to track down your needy but ridiculously cute boyfriend.

You followed the music, figuring that he must’ve been in the home gym he’d set up a couple of winters ago. The new Coldplay album was playing on the sound system, echoing off the mirrors that lined the otherwise blank walls. It was a messy sight as you walked in – yoga mats that you’d left behind sprawled out on the ground while Charles sat hunched over, scrolling on his phone with his legs hanging over each side of the bench press that was sitting in the middle of the naturally lit room.

He was quick to notice your presence in the door way and chucked his phone onto one of the many towels neatly folded up on the shelf behind him, "Could you spot me, please? Because I nearly killed myself with this weight."

You swear you were listening but you couldn’t help but take a second to drink in his appearance, suddenly feeling a hot flush wash over your chest. He was sans shirt and glistening with sweat, which would’ve been enough to fuel your desires but the tight short shorts and the hair sticking to his forehead was what really got the endorphins running. And as much as you could’ve stared at him for the rest of your days, the last thing you wanted was for Charles to notice how flustered you were by his appearance.

"If that thing is going to fall on your face, there's no way my twig arms are going to stop it," You scoffed, eyeing at the weights behind his head with concern.

"You just have to push it off me so it doesn't crush my chest," He shrugged with a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, far too nonchalantly for your liking.

"Oh right – just casually save my boyfriend from being crushed to death. Cool…" You sarcastically retorted while Charles wiped his hands on his shorts and scooted underneath the bar, back squeaking as it stuck to the faux leather.

"Just come and stand behind my head, baby," He sweetly directed and you sighed softly, knowing that he was going to keep lifting the stupid thing anyway and you would much rather be there if anything did happen.

So you shuffled around to where he’d settled himself on the bench, feet and shoulders with the part, ready to save the day if you needed to. Well, kind of ready because the view from where you were standing was not only magnificent but wildly distracting.

“Atta girl.”

Charles’ strong hands gripped the bar and lifted it carefully off the stand, flickering his eyes to each side and making sure they were securely off before bringing it down towards his tensed chest. The grunts that left his throat as the muscles and veins in his arms bulged under his taut skin sounded exactly like the noises he was breathing in your ear last night as he fucked you into the next dimension, the sound immediately transporting you back to the way his hands felt on your supple skin.

His tight chest puffed out in time with his sharp hips that bucked off the bench with each rep and the groans leaving his lips were making it difficult to keep an eye on the job, even though a part of you wondered whether this was all a ploy to get you in here and see this glorified soft core in session. Knowing Charles, it was almost definitely the latter.

"Okay two more," He huffed out, lifting the bar up and down a couple more times, concentration stitched into his sticky forehead.

The grunts got louder the closer he was to finishing the set, again casting your mind back to your night between the sheets, before he slowly pushed it up towards the stand and let your fingers hook around the bar, just in case it slipped out of his slick hands. Because every part of his body was perspiring – his biceps, thighs, neck, chest, the bridge of his nose that was achingly close to your core was glistening and so were you, from doing absolutely nothing. Dripping.

Charles sat up with a groan and took a couple of deep breaths, blood pumping through his veins as you watched the muscles on his rippling back contract, “You’re soaked – let me grab you a towel.”

This was your chance to try and shake the daze you were in. It was pathetic the way he wound you up without even knowing, hypnotising you with something as innocent as a workout. Maybe it was because you had been blissfully enjoying each other’s touch the second he dropped his luggage in the doorway, jumping into bed and hardly leaving it ever since.

Or because he was the sexiest creature you’d ever seen and seeing him gleaming with sweat and groaning like an animal was a massive turn on for you. Either way you were soaking after his performance, desperate to have those sounds breathing down your neck as soon as humanely possible.

He graciously took the towel you were offering with a wicked smile, wiping his flushed face and roughly drying his hair before spinning around 90 degrees on the bench, gazing up at you with the same smile but now with that devious sparkle in his eye that always had you hook, line and sinker.

"Merci."

It rolled off his tongue too perfectly and you couldn’t control the eye roll, knowing how much he loved teasing you in French. He also loved how quickly he could get you naked when he spoke in his native tongue, the mischievous smirk and his Monegasque charm leaving you spellbound.

"Any time," You sang in reply, attempting to leave the room before you combusted on sight but you were stopped by a fistful of fingers grasping the hem of your black cotton shorts.

Charles gently pulled you back, a hole already burnt into the material from his eyes zeroing in on your curves. He loved every inch of you, worshipped the air you breathed and pinched himself daily that you’d stuck around with his crazy stupid schedule and maniacal whims. God, he adored you and ached at how effortlessly beautiful you looked in your matching crop top and shorts, waltzing around the home you had built together.

And he couldn’t hide the way he felt when you looked around, bottom lip clamped loosely between his front teeth, chewing the inside of his cheek and admiring how fucking lucky he was to have such a beautiful creature in his grasp. Heaven sent.

"You look very cute today."

He was smitten; holding your hips in place as you slung your arms around his shoulders. His hands subconsciously trailed down to the back of your thighs and teased the thin hem on your shorts, fingertips melting into the skin like butter as he watched your gorgeously bright eyes narrow.

"I'm not wearing a bra just for you," You flirted, nudging closer to his chest and needing more than just the heat from his hands on your skin.

"I can see that," He hummed matter-of-factly as he gazed over the sheer top that had been driving him crazy all day, adoring the way your nipples hardened at his stare before pressing a peck to the bottom of your sternum.

Charles continued trailing soft kisses across your stomach as you brought your hands to his tousled brown hair, trawling your fingertips through the damp locks and massaging his scalp. A soft, barely audible whimper slipped from his lips as he tilted his head back and caught your eyes, succumbing to the drowsiness and closing them for a quiet moment.

"That feels so nice."

He practically whispered before opening his eyes and pulling you closer with his hands that were now hidden under your loose top, fingertips following the arch of your spine as you leaned down and captured his soft lips. He tasted salty, tongue deliciously warm as you explored his mouth with your own. You loved the way he inhaled you and swallowed the moans he was causing. The intimacy you shared with him never seized to make you weak in the knees, putty in his hands.

"I wanna watch you fuck me in this mirror."

Your words were muttered against his pursed lips and Charles’ eyes were wider than a flying saucer when you pulled back ever so slightly, noses bumping together from how close you still were. He huffed out a soft laugh as you nodded towards the mirrors lining the walls around you both, eyeing your reflection beside him.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, a humorous expression ascending onto his blushing cheeks as you returned the raised brow, confused by his question.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" You scoffed, the deadpan look never faltering from your face and causing his goofy smile to fall; finally realising you were being serious.

"Well... no you don't but... Do you want me to do you against the mirror or on here?" Charles asked frowning down at the bench before bouncing up and down on it to make sure it was sturdy enough for your spontaneous demand.

"I don't really care," You almost moaned, smoothing your hands across his strong chest and over his tense shoulders, leaning down and pressing your lips to his damp neck again.

"I don't wanna risk breaking this because it was the last one at the shop so I guess we could do it against the mirrors…”

The hesitation in his voice caused your brows to furrow in disappointment and your hands to drop from his shoulders as you stood up straight, looking down at your boyfriend with a frown.

"Jeez, don't get too excited about it."

The sarcasm was dripping from your tone as Charles shook his head fervently, quickly reaching out to pull you back. All he could think about daily was making love to you in different places in the house and shockingly, the home gym hadn’t been ticked off the list but god, did he want to. He was already twitching thinking about it, the tightness of his shorts already cutting off circulation to his legs.

"No, no. Baby, look at you – I am so excited but you caught me off guard and I was just trying to think… what’s the word? Logically… Logistically…”

"It’s logistically but honey – you called me in here and made me watch you gyrating and make sex noises, and then you told me I look cute and now you're caught off guard that I want to have sex with you?... Are you okay?" You joked, pressing the back of your hand against Charles’ sticky forehead, pretending to check if he had a temperature or if he even had a pulse at all.

He laughed, borderline giggled and shook his head, "Well, when you say it like that, it makes sense. I just didn't think you'd get turned on over that."

You couldn't help but laugh in his face at his assumption, "You're shirtless and sweaty and wearing shorts that are so tight that I can see your dick... There's no way you didn't think this would get me going."

You wagged your finger up and down his body and Charles simply shrugged, hardening by the second, "It didn't even cross my mind but if it's getting your going then let's fucking go!"

Charles slapped his hands down on his lap and immediately reached for the drawstring on your shorts. “These are definitely coming off…” He murmured, eyes narrowed in concentration as he slid them down your legs.

"I promise if we break the bench, I will personally call every single shop in Monaco and replace it.”

You stepped out of the cotton material around your ankles, grasping Charles’ shoulders for balance as he tugged on his own shorts; finally liberating himself of the constriction caused by his own unadulterated arousal. He had no control when it came to you.

"Jeez, you are horny," Charles teased as you climbed on top of him; his tactile hands guiding your knees to each side of his thighs with a devilish grin.

He was in his element with you on top of him; he had the perfect view of his girl and he could feel how ready you were for him when you rested on his thigh, your slickness cool against his soft skin. He loved how dialled in you were to his touch, every little wince or mumble making his heart pound harder in his chest – blood rushing to his dick every time you whispered in his ear.

But he knew that you knew how much he craved having you like this so of course he teased you in spirited retaliation, like any man desperately in love does to the one he adores the most.

“You know that if you ever need to get some inspiration, you can always come in and watch me work out, baby. You like it a lot, huh?”

"I do and I intend to enjoy this so shut up."

Now he was really hard, worked up beyond his limits.

As a distraction from his edge, he went back to what he did best – kissing you. You were both as pent up as each other, embarrassingly desperate for two people who had been going at it hammer and tong all weekend but you couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t until the firm grip on your hips tightened even more that you finally felt how enthusiastic he was about fucking you in his gym.

"You taste like lemons," Charles mumbled as your tongues collided.

You couldn’t mask the smirk on your lips as he kissed you again, reaching down and massaging him over his boxer briefs. You pulled away slightly from the kiss, ghosting his swollen lips as you softly stroked him in your hand.

"I bet if you'd seen me eating that popsicle, you would've felt the same way as I did watching you lift those stupid weights," and Charles chuckled at your annoyingly accurate theory, his warm breath fanning over my face before seizing your lips again, wiping that smirk on your sweet lips.

"I probably wouldn’t have lasted, let's be absolutely honest, ma belle," He whispered back with a knowing smile, completely unashamed to be enamoured by the woman slowly stoking him, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure surging through his body.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

Charles simply smiled, eyes barely open as he watched your bodies connecting in the most intimate way, tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip in preparation for your kiss. As you gripped him tight in your hand and bottomed out on his achingly hard cock, you pressed your lips to his, forced to swallow the loud moan falling from your lips.

l' attente, you whimpered before a sharp inhale caused Charles’ eyes to shoot up to your closed ones, searching your face for any pain.

"You good?" He asked softly but swiftly with his hands firmly placed on the outside of your thighs, gently holding you in place until you have him the okay to move his hips.

"So good," You breathed, tilting your neck back and arching your spine to change the angle a little, feeling that sweet spot deep inside you being brushed ever so gently, “You feel amazing right there.”

Once you both hit that toe curling, achingly good rhythm that you had perfected together, Charles rested his chin on your shoulder and watched how mind-numbingly hot you looked riding him in the mirror, his hands firmly grabbing your ass and spreading you out like a meal he was desperate to devour.

"My god..." He growled as you looked down and followed his eye line, biting your puffy bottom lip when you realised he was watching himself disappear inside you, every inch taken care of. And you too, were groaning at the sight.

“You look gorgeous riding my dick, baby.”

"We look sexy," You were quick to correct, breathless from both the sight of Charles’ large, veiny hands leaving prints on your backside and his relentlessness to have you losing your goddamned mind on his dick.

Both had you twisted in knots, the pit in your stomach tightening with every thrust and all you could do was thank whoever had invented weight training because boy, were you reaping the benefits now. Sex in your home gym – tick.

+ + +

parlez-vous français? (the sequel to itch)

a//n – i had so many asks for 'you're soaked' with baby boy charles so i hope you liked this quick, mostly naughty piece x next on the schedule is danny ric, i believe and i'm horny just thinking about the idea i have for him so stay tuned x masterlist | askbox

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #formula 1 #monzamashmasterlist #the monzamash special #charles leclerc x reader #f1 one shot

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vanteguccir · 13 days

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Academic Validation | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Amid relentless academic pressure, Y/N finds herself consumed by the desperate pursuit of perfection in her college. Her obsession with validation leads her to neglect her own basic needs until a sudden accident forces her to confront the reality of her situation, receiving the complete help and support of her boyfriend, Chris.

Warning: Comparison, crying, dark thoughts, fainting.

Requested?: Yes, by @sturniolowhore

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sat at her desk in the corner of her shared room with Chris, surrounded by mountains of books, papers, and her laptop, whose screen glowed brightly in the semi-darkness of the room. The clock on the wall showed 2 a.m., but for her, time had lost all meaning.

The sound of Chris' light snores, who was sleeping soundly in the bed just a few meters away from the girl, sounded muffled against her ears. She had tried to sleep, really, but sleep wouldn't come at all, and when Y/N was sure that her boyfriend had finally slept, she was able to get up.

Her mind was totally immersed in study. Every cell in her body focused on absorbing every detail of the laws, the precedent cases, and the doctrines. She was obsessed with academic validation, an incessant compulsion to be the best in her law school, not because she wanted to be better than others, but to show herself that she was capable of something.

The pressure to achieve excellence was overwhelming. Every time a score was posted, her heart raced in anticipation, and each less-than-perfect mark was a stab at her already fragile self-esteem.

Y/N never felt like she was enough, no matter how hard she worked or how well she did. There was always that underlying fear of not being good enough, of not living up to other people's expectations and, even worse, her own unrealistically high expectations.

Days and nights melted into a haze of books and coffee as she sank deeper and deeper into her quest for perfection. She found herself studying until the early hours of the morning, neglecting her basic needs.

Eating had become a sporadic activity, limited to quick and insufficient snacks. Drinking water was a luxury she couldn't afford to waste time on. Taking a shower or even going out to get some sun was completely out of the question.

Her body began to show signs of abandonment, her eyes sunken and tired, her skin pale and lifeless. The dark circles that adorned her face were like badges of honor, marking the sleepless nights and days of incessant study.

But Y/N ignored all the signs.

She was determined not to be overcome by her own limits, even if it meant sacrificing her physical and mental health in the process.

Chris, worried, tried in vain to bring a little normality to her life. He watched from afar every day, helpless in the face of the web of obsession that enveloped Y/N.

He would try to talk to her, sometimes even begging Matt to do so - his brother had a way with words, but she would always evade it, sinking deeper into her bubble of study and self-denial.

Y/N didn't want to worry him, didn't want to admit she was losing control. She was determined to face this battle alone, no matter the cost.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The clock on the wall read almost 9 pm of a Tuesday, and Y/N was still locked in her shared room with Chris, immersed in a sea of books and papers. Her desk was a chaotic mess, with crumpled papers and several tabs open on Google on her laptop, each representing a different subject that she was desperately trying to absorb. Her hand hurt from writing so much, her eyes burned from reading so much, and her body was weak from the time she had spent there.

Chris entered the room for the fifth time that day, carrying a glass of water in one hand and a pink plate with a simple sandwich in the other. His heart sank when he saw Y/N's state, her tense and exhausted expression, her almost obsessive determination to continue studying, ignoring everything else.

His blue eyes traveled across the mess of the table slowly, noticing the plate of Y/N's favorite cookies, which he had brought hours earlier, still untouched, and he swore he felt his heart break again.

"Hi babe... Here, you need to eat something." The boy approached cautiously, trying not to scare her. His voice sounded softly, showing her the plate with the sandwich.

Y/N looked down at the ceramic, her tired eyes reflecting a mix of stubbornness and exhaustion.

"I... I need to keep studying." She murmured, shaking her head, her voice weak and shaky. "I have an important test, Chris. I can't stop now."

Chris felt a wave of frustration and anger rise up inside him. He knew how important that test was for Y/N - and all the others she studied incessantly, but he also knew that she was pushing her limits. He refused to stand by and watch as she destroyed herself.

“Y/N, you can’t go on like this.” He insisted, his voice rising slightly with urgency. "You need to rest, you need to eat, you need to do something besides studying!"

"I can't, Chris. I can't stop now. I need to..." Y/N shook her head determinedly, keeping her blurry eyes fixed on the papers in front of her.

Chris sighed heavily, dropping the plate and cup onto the wooden surface with a thud, his own frustration spilling over into angry tears.

“You’re destroying yourself, Y/N.” He murmured, his voice choked by the weight of his own emotions. "And I can't stand here and watch it anymore."

With that, Chris turned and left the room, leaving a very lost Y/N behind, her teeth biting her lower lip hard in an attempt to stop her feelings from taking over herself, an atmosphere full of tension and despair taking over the environment.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Then came the day when her body finally said enough was enough.

It was 2 a.m., and Y/N was sitting at her desk as usual when a wave of exhaustion hit her with full force. She felt dizzy, her vision blurred, and her hands shook uncontrollably. The world around her seemed to fall apart as she fought to stay conscious.

The girl gripped the edge of the wooden surface tightly, trying to stabilize herself, but the force used was almost nil, her fingers sliding across the table and her arms falling limply. Her senses gradually disappeared, causing her body to bend to the right until she completely collapsed, escaping the safety of the chair.

The sound of Y/N's body hitting the floor made Chris jump out of bed in instant fright. The boy sat up abruptly, his sleep-clouded eyes traveling around the room in search of the source of the rude sound. His heart raced with panic when he saw his girlfriend lying on the floor, motionless.

Chris ripped the blanket off his body, quickly standing up and running to her, ignoring his own confusion and worry flooding his mind.

"Y/N! Y/N, baby, wake up!" He shouted, desperate, as he knelt beside her, pushing the pink gaming chair away.

With shaking hands, he checked her breathing and pulse, relieved to find that she was still breathing. Carefully, Chris turned her onto her side, briefly remembering when Nick told him that this was the correct procedure to do when a person suddenly passed out. His wide blue eyes ran frantically over her body as he silently counted the seconds in his mind.

Relief flooded him as he saw Y/N begin to regain consciousness, her eyes blinking slowly as she tried to understand where she was.

"Chris? What... what happened?" She murmured, her voice weak and her brow furrowed in confusion, her right hand rising from its limp position and reaching towards her head, pressing against the side, a pained expression spreading across her face.

Chris ignored her question momentarily, lowering himself to her level and pulling her into a hug tightly, sighing deeply as he repeated in his mind that she was there, alive and fine.

"You passed out, sweetheart. I heard the noise and... Oh God, Y/N, I thought you had..." The tears - which the boy barely noticed coming into his eyes - began to flow freely down his cheeks, his heart aching at the thought of the possibility of losing her.

His thoughts self-sabotaged him, making him feel guilty, he felt that he should have realized sooner - despite all the countless attempts to try to bring her out of her bubble, that he should have done something to prevent her from getting to that extreme point.

Y/N slowly sat up with the support of Chris's hands after he backed away, still feeling weak and bewildered.

Upon hearing her boyfriend's words, she felt her own eyes fill with tears, the accumulated emotions overflowing into a torrent of anguish and despair.

"I'm sorry, babe. Fuck- I'm so sorry. I... I can't do this anymore, Chris." A sob escaped her throat roughly, her voice choked with crying. "I'm destroying myself because of my own expectations. I... I don't know what to do anymore." She whispered, lowering her gaze to the ground, trapping her lower lip between her teeth in an attempt to stop the ugly sounds that wanted to escape in an avalanche. "Oh my God, I hurt you."

Chris held her gently, pulling her to lay her head on his shoulder, cradling her in his arms like a baby while they were still on the floor, unburdening herself of all her worries and fears. He listened intently to her ranting, his heart clenched by the pain Y/N was facing alone.

“Hey, hey, baby, don't do this to yourself. You’re not alone in this, Y/N.” Chris murmured, gently kissing the top of her head. "I'm here, always have been and always will be. I promise we'll get through this, love."

"I'm so sorry, Chris." The girl murmured, lifting her gaze from the ground and focusing on the brunette's orbs, wondering how he still allowed himself to love and help her so much, even after causing him such worries and fear.

Chris shook his head, silently reassuring her that everything was fine. He pulled his girl's pink chair towards them, slowly lifting himself so as not to hurt her and sitting on the plush seat, before guiding Y/N onto his lap, sitting her sideways on his thighs and laying her face on his shoulder, his mind working hard to come up with an idea to help Y/N find a healthy balance between her academic aspirations and her personal well-being.

"Why don't we establish a more realistic study plan, hm? With time to rest and all the self-care that will be good for you, I'll help you." The brunette whispered, looking down anxiously, hoping she could understand his point. "We can also seek professional help, a therapist, who will help you deal with your emotions and anxieties. If you want, I can participate in all the sessions with you."

Y/N looked at Chris with gratitude in her teary eyes. She knew it wouldn't be an easy journey, but with Chris's loving support by her side, she felt a spark of hope light up in her heart.

"Would you do that for me?" Her voice came out in a broken whisper, her heart warming at his sweet words.

"I'll be right by your side, my love. Always." Chris responded without blinking.

He lowered his head, sealing the top of Y/N's hair for long seconds, stroking the area with his nose lightly. His hands wrapped tightly around her body, keeping her secure in his lap and against his own body, before beginning to draw invisible circles with his fingers against her covered back.

"Sleep, sweet girl. I'll be here when you wake up. Everything will be alright."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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irawhiti · 4 months

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hi, it was just my birthday so i'm gonna ask straight up if i can get some money to make up for the fact that apparently cancer tests are not covered by medicare. i don't wanna get into too much detail but i might have cancer and i would kind of really appreciate some money to get some food as well.

if it means anything i'm a homeless trans person of colour and i'm currently living with someone who tried to kill me a few months back. i wish i was joking but i'm scared for my life right now. i lost 20 kilos since i moved in with them which has made me dangerously underweight. my bmi is 17 which like i hate bmi, this just gives you a basic idea of my situation and malnourishment right now.

i just don't want to have cancer haha and if i do (which it looks like i do.) i just would like some money to eat or at least buy like, hospital grade nutrient powder like hospital sustagen so i don't actually die from malnourishment which is a legitimate concern right now as a homeless person. my laptop has also finally fully bricked itself so i am going to have to take out almost my entire fucking savings just to remain hireable and stable.

pāypāl.me/hoodypet please specify it's for irawhiti as this is a friend's paypal.

thank you so much.

#i hate this haha.

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sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months

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Professor Miguel O’Hara x Reader Headcanons

Warnings: University Professor Miguel, Implications of Smut, Age Gap, Secret Relationship, Teacher’s Pet Reader, Academic Manipulation, Coercion, Abuse of Power, Miguel Abusing his Spider Abilities for Nefarious Purposes, Slight Yandere Miguel, Implied Obsession, Minor Spoilers for Miguel’s Backstory, Extra Yandere Headcanons, Forced Kissing, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Miguel knows it’s wrong to want you in the way he does. You’re his best and brightest student, after all — his magnum opus: his academic pride and joy.

Problem is, that appreciation for your work ethic and your eagerness to take heavy loads of work (and eventually heavy loads of other things) charmed him. Sure, he could label you asa kiss-ass, a teacher’s pet, a sycophant, but ever since the first day he met you, he can’t help but feel your concern for him is genuine.

You always ask him how he’s doing. Every class, without fail, you stop off at his desk on your way to your seat and ask: “How are you doing today, Mr. O’Hara?” Followed by questioning some inane, specific detail he told you off-handedly a day or week prior.

You always remembered the little details. Something even Miguel finds trouble with doing; what, with his extracurricular activities as Nueva York’s one and only Spiderman.

The fact that you’re kind to him, a luxury Miguel had long since lost along with his family, strikes a chord with him.

He’s not sure when his platonic appreciation of such a hard-working student turned to something more — a rogue daydream into the lewd — but once he started, he couldn’t get enough.

Something about your unspoken submission to him – your, dare he say, desire to perform just for him, led his mind and his morals astray, left much room for interpretation and experimentation.

Choosing to believe you liked him — like-liked him — made a brand of pride bubble in his chest that he couldn’t abandon, couldn’t find a potent enough alternative to.

He starts shamelessly, yet restrainedly, flirting with you. In his own way, of course.

“I loved your paper on the configuration of water molecules and their behaviour when observed; very enlightening stuff.”

The way your face would light up, your eyes crinkling while a small, almost relieved laugh escaped you, made his chest flutter.

He thought it was pride. How little he knows for a science professor.

Eventually, this escalated into him asking you to do things for him he “Wouldn’t ordinarily ask a student to do.”

He smiles at you, eyes deceptively kind behind his slender glasses, as he watches you so intently listen, hear, for his commands.

He wonders what other things you’d do — how far you’d really go, stretch yourself (as he hopes you’d let him) — for a good grade and a positive impression.

He has a secret weapon that he knows will work on you, regardless of how momentous the task.

“I’m trusting you because you’re my favourite student.”

There it is. The activation phrase. Your heart rate quickens, your pupils blow wide and he can feel, hear, the blood rush to your cheeks as his confession settles in.

He can expect whatever it is he’s asked you to do to be complete before the time he’s set for you to do it. And all because of your eagerness to prove that you’re worthy of such a title as ‘favourite’. His favourite.

Truly, though, you are his favourite.

He feels his heart prick and his eyes search for you whenever the door to the lecture hall opens.

Only once were you unable to come to class, rendered bed-ridden by the flu, and Miguel’s heart sank.

He thought at first it was because he didn’t have your adoring eyes following him, trailing his every movement, stroking off his ego with how furiously you’d type on your laptop, take everything he said and burn it into your memory with laser-life efficiency.

But, as the lecture drew to a close, Miguel felt…concerned about you. Your well-being.

A dangerous emotion.

He cared about you. More than just an academic plaything, a task donkey; he wanted to visit you, to care for you. In ways he knew only he was capable of.

During his surveillance of the city that night, he paid you a visit as Spiderman.

Nothing so overt as to make himself known to you; rather a sideline visit as he watched you through your bedroom window.

Truly, your physical state reflected how monumental your illness was; you lay in bed, unaware of the world around you as you slept, nose tip red and eyes ringed.

He wanted to come in, to tuck you back under the blankets you’d thrashed yourself free from, to check your temperature, to be with you.

He leaves, hand coming up to the glass, wishing to breach it — and all the rules — to see you.

But alas, the next time he sees you is in class a few days later when you’re fully recovered.

As you sidle into your seat, lecture hall (uncharacteristically) devoid of Miguel, your friends lean in to tell you all that you missed.

Though, to your surprise, it’s not academic material they’re covering.

“He kept looking over here while you were gone,” came one friend, smiling. Knowing.

“Yeah,” chimes another, leaning in even closer. “And he didn’t sound like he usually does — he sounded…” They look for the right word, term, eyes sliding upwards as if the answer lay heavenward.

The cogs click, they look at you, pointing.

“Disheartened!”

Of course, your friends knew of your admiration for Miguel, often construing it as romantic attraction, but their jibes never went past a joke – purely satirical. After all, practically every student fancied Miguel.

But, that was the first indication you’d seen that Miguel didn’t just view you as another of his students. Though, you hadn’t seen the other warning signs.

Not that youd knwo this prior to dating him, but Miguel gets unbelievably hard when you call him ‘Mr. O’Hara’. Or, even better, ‘Sir’.

Something about the way you look up at him beneath your lashes, eyes filled with the desire to please him, to get on his good side and undertake any task he set for you, was akin to him having full control over you — academic and otherwise.

It just reminds him of how much power he has over you; for the first time, he feels that he has control over the elements and objects around him — an agent of fate rather than being a subject of it.

That, coupled with his secret identity as Spider Man, sends him on a power trip that often leads him to relieving himself of his growing burden in the privacy of his own four walls, your name laced between the groaning, the panting, the moaning; the only comprehensible instrument in his orchestra.

And, when you eventually start dating, he takes his frustrations out on you.

He makes low, raspy threats when he wants something.

“I’ll lower your grade,” he says, sliding his belt from the loops of his trousers.

The blood draining from your face, your widened stare, your mouth dropping open, make his pants feel tight. Tighter. Goosebumps erupt across his skin.

“Or,” he offers, folding the belt and holding it by the ends. He slaps the belt’s body against itself, sending a crack through the room. You flinch.

“You can be a good little student and earn your grade.”

‘Earning’ often ends with you panting and red and wet, while Miguel watches you between half-lidded, reddened eyes, contact lenses long abandoned, his true nature no longer an enigma to you.

Unfortunately for you.

Extra Yandere Headcanons:

Once you discover Miguel’s true identity, both as Spiderman and a monster, you can never leave.

And not just because you’d be endangering both yourself and him if you ever told anyone.

Miguel, quite simply, cannot live without you. And the thought that you would try to escape him is, despite his intelligence, baffling.

His delusion has blinded him, made him privy only to any positive opinion of him you may have, ignoring your reservations. Invalidating them.

If you ever do make the mistake of trying to leave, Miguel knows he cannot let you have the chance of making it again.

“Can’t risk you getting out, Darling,” he says, placing the finishing knots on the threads of his neon web, keeping your arms constricted behind your back. It’s nigh-impossible to breathe; the likelihood of you breaking your ribs against the pull of the web a certainty rather than you managing to burst it open with any manoeuvre.

He kneels before you, taking your cheek in his hand.

With fleeting defiance, you pull yourself from his grasp, only to see him bear his teeth, fangs and all, and growl. His hands snake about your cheek, your throat, and pull you to him.

“No-one will ever love you like I do,” he rasps. Before you can anticipate, his lips are on yours, parted, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing better than to bite him.

His iron grip on your wrists from last time still haven’t healed.

You daren’t close your eyes for fear that doing so will leave you any more vulnerable than you already are.

Only when he’s breathless does he pull back, eyes half-lidded and gleaming. You can tell he’s angling for something more in the way his hand drops to your shoulder, his eyes sweeping across your collarbones.

But, luckily for you, the two of you know he can’t indulge in you just yet. Not while he has you bound in his basement and a class of students awaiting his arrival.

“I’ll be back for you later,” he says, still panting, forehead pressed to yours. His smile, once pointed and serpentine, is incongruously soft compared to the current circumstances. His lips gentle as he presses a kiss to your forehead. His eyes shimmer with a tenderness that often overtook him in moments of great need – of great “love”, as he’d characterise it.

With a tight, embrace, he parts from you. His shirt is an almost blinding white against the light pouring in from the hallway, the basement door now wide open. He retrieves his glasses from his breast pocket, slips them on. His eyes are unreadable, coloured brown with contact lenses which seemed to conceal his inhumanity from all except you.

“Sit tight, Sweetie,” he tells you. And you are plunged once again into darkness with only the dim glow of his web to accompany you.

And, just like the good, obedient student you are, you obey. For you have no other choice.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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harrysmaison · 2 years

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#laptop has been screwing little things up lately #first it was audio output through headphone jacks #found a solution to that #today my touchpad stopped working 😭#i almost lost it both times #fixed the touchpad thing too lets see how permanent this is #i once broke the entire software in my temper and im still scare im fucking this shitty device up #my dad would cut my head off if i do he's already upset #why is everything going wrong all at once in my life

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cupid-styles · 7 months

Text

silk (grumpy!h)

in which harry is grumpy with everyone except y/n, and he realizes he's never been so enamored with someone in his life.

word count: 5.9k

content warnings: smut!!

author's notes: last part of grumpy h! thank you sm for all the love on this series, I love these two<3 lmk if you'd like to see any blurbs or one-shots for them!!!

part one | part two

masterlist | talk to me

From: H🌷

My friends want to meet you. Would you be willing to come out with us tonight?

Y/N reads over Harry's most recent text for the fourth time in 10 minutes. If she's being honest, the resounding answer is no, she has no desire to go out with Harry and his friends. But she also knows that they've been spending a lot of time together lately and he's been skipping out on hangouts and evenings out, so it only makes sense that his friends want to meet the girl he's constantly ditching them for.

She sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, and types out an answer she wouldn't give to anyone else.

sure.. when and where?

It's only a minute or so before Harry replies. She shuts her laptop, knowing that the attention streak she has on her outline for literature theory is out the window, especially with the prospect of meeting Harry's friends in the near future.

I'll come get you and we can go to the bar together at 9:30, if that works for you. I know this is probably overwhelming for you so please don't stress, sweetheart. They're going to love you.

Her heart skips a beat. Sweetheart. That's a new development since that evening a few weeks ago, when she disclosed the story of how she lost her virginity. Since then, it seems like boundaries had carefully been crossed, but neither one of them minded. Pet names fell easily from Harry's lips. When they were together, they were almost always touching, whether it be warm cuddles on the couch or holding hands on the walk out of the English department.

Y/N doesn't know what they are — she knows that Harry has some record of dating and sleeping around, and it doesn't seem like that's what they're doing, but she can't help but fear that that's what it is. She always manages to shove those anxieties down when they're together so they don't accidentally come out in an embarrassing stream of consciousness.

okay, that works, she eventually types back, i'll try not to worry too much.. what should i wear?

Y/N has to smush her face in her pillows to avoid squealing at his answer.

Anything you would normally wear is perfect. You'll look beautiful no matter what.

. . .

Harry will never admit it out loud, but he's so excited for Y/N to finally meet his friends.

Niall, Mitch, and Pauli have been on Harry's back about constantly being out of the house and not hanging out with them. They're all quite needy, really, but they're his best friends and housemates, so he doesn't fault their curiosity. Especially because they've noticed his happier-than-usual demeanor, which says a lot, considering he usually walks around with a permanent scowl on his face.

So when he invites Y/N to come out with them tonight, he's fully expecting her to say no and he's shocked when she doesn't. He can practically feel her nerves through their text thread but he's over the moon that's pushing past her anxiety for his stupid friends. For him.

When he arrives at her place, she's overanalyzing every aspect of her outfit. It makes him smile, the way she cares so much, but he takes her concerns as seriously as he can.

"Are you sure this is good enough, H?" she asks, walking back over to the floor length mirror. She's wearing a pair of light wash mom jeans and a lacey white tank top, her makeup subtle with smudgy brown eyeliner and pink highlights.

"Baby," Harry murmurs, strolling up behind her and pressing a hand to her hip, "You look absolutely gorgeous. There's nothing to stress about."

She flushes instantly and squeezes her thighs at his touch. She spins to face him, a pout on her lips.

"I just wanna make a good impression. I don't want your friends to think you're hanging out with some—"

"Whatever you're about to call yourself, it's not true." Harry cuts her off, squeezing her hip. "Now c'mon, Niall gets testy whenever someone's late."

"Fine." Y/N grumbles, grabbing her bag and cardigan. She follows Harry out of her apartment, both of them stopping to bid Ginger a quick goodbye before locking the door and walking out to his car.

"Do you mind if I come back with you tonight?" Harry asks, intertwining their fingers together on the short trek to his sedan. "Feel like I barely saw you this week."

Y/N smiles, looking up at him as they walk. "You saw me yesterday in class and after at grading, silly."

"Yeah, but that was professional time. Couldn't hold you or anything."

She giggles as they approach his car, getting in on the passenger's side and buckling herself in. Harry does the same and starts the vehicle, reaching over to place a hand over her thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot.

"Yeah, you can sleepover tonight, H."

"Whoa, who said anything about staying over, darling? Think you're getting a bit presumptuous—"

Y/N rolls her eyes and cuts him off with a light swat to the chest, "You've stayed over tons!"

He laughs, his eyes crinkling the way that always makes Y/N's heart feel like it's about to burst.

"Just like teasing you, pretty baby."

. . .

Harry's friends are actually quite nice.

They have a clear connection, easy-going and kind, that makes it easy for Y/N to sink into without giving too much weight to her worries. When her and Harry walk in, the blonde one immediately waves them over with a huge grin and a half-full glass of Guinness in his hand.

"H! You're late!"

Harry rolls his eyes and grumbles out some insult, his palm flat against the small of Y/N's back. She wants to hide behind his towering figure to avoid being the center of attention, but he gently pushes her towards the tabletop to introduce her.

"Heathens... this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my housemates, Mitch, Niall, and Pauli," Harry announces, giving her side a small, comforting squeeze. "Be nice to her or I will put hair removal in all of your shampoos. Especially yours, Mitch."

The long-haired one — Mitch, Y/N presumes — instantly puts his hands up in defense. "Why would I be anything but nice? Niall here is the one that's five beers in."

"Shut up, I'm nothing but sweet when I'm drunk!" Niall exclaims, his voice booming over the soundtrack of other patron's conversations and some random rock station. "Hi Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Tell me, how did you manage to sweeten grumpy Harry here? He's usually so—"

"Niall," The last one, Pauli, Y/N thinks, warns, a protective arch in his eyebrow as he cuts his chatty friend off. "We're so happy you decided to join us, Y/N. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

"Alright, you guys have caused enough chaos," Harry steers the conversation away, tugging Y/N closer to his side, "We're gonna go get drinks."

Harry knows Y/N doesn't drink very often and he doubts she'll get anything tonight, but he can feel her clamping up from the attention.

"Y'okay?" he asks, leaning down slightly to catch the shell of her ear. She shivers at the low tone of his voice, biting her lip as she looks up at him.

"Mhm. They're nice, H."

He smiles and moves his arm up to wrap around her shoulders. "I know they're a bit much. I appreciate you being here, though. Promise we won't stay too long."

"It's okay," Y/N giggles at his overprotectiveness, though her heart swoons as she tucks herself into his chest. "They're special to you and that's important."

Harry's grin only widens, showcasing his dimples and the cute eye wrinkles Y/N loves.

"You're special to me. That's why I wanted them to meet you."

Y/N doesn't know how to reply without squealing so she just blushes and buries her head into his shoulder, a warm chuckle vibrating from the depths of his chest.

. . .

"Yeah, and that's how Harry ended up having to sneak Niall out of the emergency room at 3 in the morning."

Despite Niall's already red face, his cheeks turn a deep crimson at the end of Pauli's story. Harry and his friends erupt in a series of laughs as Y/N looks up at the curly haired brunette curled around her form, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. The PDA initially made her heart thumb noisily in her chest, but she couldn't help herself as she snuggled further into his side, his scent and warmth radiating instant comfort.

"Yeah, yeah, you lot think you're so funny," Niall grumbles before lifting his pint to his mouth.

"That's 'cos we are, Ni," Harry smirks, "Anyway... it's been fun, but I think we're gonna head out."

Y/N's heart squeezes at him saying we're, like they're some sort of collective. She has to roll her lips into her mouth to stop a smile from curling onto her face.

"Ah, you guys aren't gonna come back to the house?" Pauli asks with a pout.

"Let them live," Mitch interjects, nudging Pauli's ribs, "H is happy for the first time, like, ever."

"Alright!" Harry exclaims, clapping his hands together as Y/N's lips part in surprise. Was he seriously that noticeably happy? Because of... no, it couldn't be because of her. That would be silly. "Y/N, you about ready?"

She nods and slides out of the booth behind Harry. "It was really nice to meet you all," she says with a polite smile, hugging her bag closer to her side as Harry heads up to the bar to settle his tab. "Thanks for having me."

"Oh, of course!" Niall grins. "Just make sure Harry wraps it up tonight, we all know he's been around—"

"Niall, you're cut off!" Mitch is quick to snatch the beer glass out of Niall's hand just as Y/N's face warms, insecurities suddenly brewing deep in her body. She knew of Harry's reputation, but if his friends assumed they were sleeping together already... was there something wrong with her?

Thankfully, she doesn't have to stumble over an awkward response because Harry's already reappeared, not even bothering to question why Niall's whining.

"'Kay, see you lot later. Get home safe."

He slings an arm around Y/N's shoulders and she gives a half-hearted wave as he guides them out of the crowded bar. She feels a sense of relief when the cool air hits her skin, the weather finally feeling fully autumnal as October nudges in. Harry notices her involuntary shiver and holds her closer, giving her shoulders a squeeze as they approach his car.

"You did so good tonight," he murmurs, glancing down at her proudly. "How do you feel?"

"Good." she lies, a tight smile on her face. "I can drive, you had a few drinks, hm?"

Harry nods and digs his keys out of the pocket of his jeans, handing them to Y/N. She clears her throat as she unlocks the vehicle, both of them climbing in wordlessly.

"Was it too much socialization? I can go home if you want to be by yourself."

Y/N's heart squeezes at his words as she turns the key in the ignition. It's silly to her that a month ago, she dreaded being alone with Harry and now, she can't even find it in her to be upset with him.

"No, I want you to come back with me."

Y/N is rarely assertive in her words, let alone her plans with Harry. Even when she does miss him and wants to see him, she'll send him a picture of Ginger being cute, and he'll reply with some iteration of "can I come over?"

So she swallows harshly after blurting the words out, thankfully missing the way Harry's eyes widen slightly. And he can tell that something's up — she's grasping the steering wheel tightly and won't stop chewing on her bottom lip, a nervous habit of hers that was easy to pick up on — and he mentally curses at his friends, hoping that they didn't say something idiotic to make her overthink anything.

He doesn't say anything until she's pulling into a spot outside of her apartment. As she's about to turn the car off, his hand grasps at her thigh, her eyes flying to his face. It's dark, so he can't see much of her facial expression, but he can tell by the slight crinkle in her eyebrow that she's nervous.

"What's wrong, sweet girl?" Harry asks gently, circling his thumb over her knee. "Did something happen at the bar? Did they say something?"

She shakes her head quickly, "No, of course not. They were really nice, H, I had a good time. Can we just go upstairs?"

"What's the rush?" he presses, trying to catch her low gaze. "Are you tired? Wanna go to bed?"

"Not tired," she mutters and lets out a frustrated sigh. The quiet hum of Harry's car fills the silence, but it's not enough to tear his attention away from the anxious girl in front of him. "I just... why haven't you tried to sleep with me?"

Embarrassment floods her entire body as Harry's eyebrows shoot up. Immediately, she feels ridiculous and wants to take it back.

"That was really dumb of me. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I didn't even drink, I just—"

"Y/N," Harry says lowly, giving her knee a squeeze, "What did they say?"

"Nothing! Niall just said... well, when you were paying, he told me to make sure you, y'know, 'wrap it up' and I realized that, like, you haven't even tried to kiss me! And you call me these sweet names and we cuddle and hang out all the time and I don't know, I thought maybe you liked me but I understand I could be wrong and misinterpreting everything."

She's exasperated and Harry thinks it's adorable, but he hates that he could ever question his intentions with her. He notices that her hands are trembling and he sighs, shaking his head.

"First of all, Niall is an absolute idiot so never take anything he says seriously," he replies, taking her hands into his. He stuffs them underneath the soft fabric of his cardigan, trying to warm them up. "I... I know I have some sort of reputation on campus and you've seen me do some things I'm not proud of, but that was never the case with you. I wanted to take my time with you and go slow, especially because of your history. I like you, Y/N. So much. You didn't misinterpret anything."

She swallows nervously and if he didn't have her hands held captive in his fuzzy yellow sweater, she'd be fidgeting anxiously, picking at the her nails. Her face is far too warm for her liking, her heart jumping for joy in her chest as she replays his words over and over again. I like you. So much.

"I like you, too," she finally peeps out, clearing her throat, "I'm sorry I assumed differently. I didn't mean to be dramatic."

"Not dramatic, love. I understand why you got nervous," he murmurs, smiling gently. "Can I kiss you, then? If you like me back?"

It's overwhelming for Y/N — she feels like she's about to kiss her second grade crush, but only because of the flocks of butterflies invading her stomach, shaky hands, and an inability to croak out an answer, instead just nodding her head. Harry chuckles at that, and she's grateful for the way he's able to easily read her.

It's not the most romantic kiss Harry's ever had, but that's only because they're parked outside of Y/N's house in his car. If it weren't for the way he has to lean over the middle console to catch her lips in a lock, he would swear it's absolutely perfect.

Simultaneously, Y/N realizes that kissing Harry feels like coming home.

She's only ever felt this way when she's, quite literally, returned to her childhood home after hellish months away at college as an undergrad. The way the interior of the space always smelled like balsam and freshly baked cookies, warm lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, her mom hugging her tightly and murmuring in her ear, "it's okay, you're home now."

She tastes twinges of beer as their lips meld together, his musky vanilla cologne invading her senses and making her melt. It's all so good, like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, drinking hot chocolate during a snowstorm, carving pumpkins while you eat those Halloween sugar cookies from childhood.

If she didn't have to break away to breathe, she thinks she could kiss Harry for an eternity.

Harry is clearly more experienced in the kissing department than she is, but he doesn't tease her for needing a break. He just smiles softly as she quietly pants with spit swollen lips, her eyes darting between his own raspberry mouth and the inviting jade of his eyes.

"You're good at that." Y/N breathes, and he chuckles, letting out his own deep breath.

"Do you wanna go inside, sweetheart?" Harry asks gently, his voice quiet, "I really wanna keep kissing you, but maybe not in my car."

"Yes, please."

He laughs louder at that, giving her thigh one more squeeze as she pulls the car key from the ignition. It's nearing midnight so it's far chillier now, goosebumps immediately forming over Y/N's arms. It's a race to her front door from there, her eagerly unlocking it and kicking her shoes off, Harry following closely behind.

Ginger is tucked into herself, snoozing steadily in the little cat bed Harry bought her a few weeks back. He'd immediately admitted that it was an impulsive purchase, claiming that he simply couldn't resist.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Y/N asks, hanging her bag and keys on the hooks in her entryway.

"'M okay," Harry mumbles, plopping down on the couch. He sheds his upper body of his cardigan and Y/N swallows as it leaves him in a plain white tee-shirt, contrasting the inky swirls on his arms beautifully. "Relax, baby. Come sit with me."

Y/N nods and walks over to him submissively, her socks padding across the plushy expanse of her carpet.

"Do you wanna sit on my lap?" he asks softly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers together. "You can say no. We're going at your speed."

"No, I do." she says quickly, not wanting him to suspect an inkling of hesitance. She'll admit, she's nervous, but it's not because she's uncomfortable. If anything, Harry is still so intimidating in this regard, and she feels like a fumbling mess in comparison.

He's gentle in his movements, guiding her body down to his and helping her straddle his waist. It's not inherently sexual, despite the fact that her thighs split readily, their cores pressed together and separated by layers of clothing.

He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady, her hands automatically finding his broad shoulders.

"Can we keep kissing?" Y/N peeps out. A lopsided grin appears on Harry's face, making her own warm.

"Course, honey. Keep kissing me."

She's anxious about the prospect of her leaning in to kiss him, worried that she's doing something wrong, but the nerves instantly melt away the second their lips reconnect. This kiss is less hesitant, a slow stream of confidence beginning to radiate from Y/N's actions. She fists his tee-shirt in her hands as she presses her chest against his, Harry's tongue gently probing her mouth. She opens readily, happy to allow him.

Harry's surprised by her sudden eagerness but welcomes it. He can feel his cock starting to plump beneath them, but he hopes she doesn't notice it as she squeezes her thighs around his waist. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, wanting nothing more to prioritize her own wants tonight.

"Baby," Harry breathes, breaking their kiss and nudging his nose against hers, "Baby, hold on a sec, wanna talk to you."

She hums and blinks her eyes open. "'bout what?" she asks, licking over her swollen lips.

"Do you know what you want to do tonight? If anything?"

Y/N swallows. She definitely hadn't thought that far. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about sex with Harry at all, but she was so over the moon with knowing that he liked her that she couldn't think past it.

He squeezes her hip, bringing her back down and out of her thoughts. Swallowing, she parts her lips nervously before licking over them.

"I'm not really sure," she admits, adjusting out of awkwardness but accidentally brushing against Harry's cock, "I... I know I want you. Closer."

"Okay, that's a good start," he murmurs. He tries not to let his facade crack, but he's in shambles over how sweet she's being. If it were up to him, he'd devour her whole, but he has restraint — even if she's unintentionally testing them. "How close do you want to be, honey?"

"More than this."

Harry chuckles and nods, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. "You're killing me, y'know that?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to do anything."

"That's the problem."

His smirk makes her blush and she stares down at her hands, wringing them together in their laps. Gently, he tucks his hand underneath her chin, bringing her eyes back up to his.

"You're doing perfectly, sweetheart. I just want to make sure that we're doing everything you want. I want this to be a good experience for you."

She calms slightly at that and Harry feels her body relax. "It already is a good experience, H, it's you."

"You're too cute," he mumbles with a shake of his head, tilting his head to press featherlight kisses along her jaw, "Too fuckin' cute."

He lowers down to her neck, entirely too intoxicated by the scent of her vanilla perfume and the feel of her soft skin against his lips. He could spend the entire night planting kisses across every inch of her body, he thinks, but he knows they'd both be too needy to let him finish that ask.

"Inside," Y/N suddenly breathes out, a gasp falling from pillowy lips as he nips as a sensitive spot, "Want you inside, please."

"Fingers?" Harry guesses, suckling gently to create the faintest of marks.

"No, no. You."

Harry's eyes snap open at her admittance, blinking owlishly as he processes her request. Did she... was she asking—

"Please, Harry, I— I know you want to take it slow but it's been months and I want it, I'm sure of it, please—"

He hushes her with a firm kiss to the lips. Her trembling hands reach up to fist at his messy curls and he can feel her getting progressively more desperate, pink-hued smoke clouding her typically shy demeanor.

"It's okay, baby, I got you," he murmurs against her mouth, squeezing at her hip. "I'll take care of you, alright? If that's what you really want."

"I do, H, please."

Harry can't take a second more of her pleading and he thinks if he denied her again, she'd be down at her knees groveling. (He has to quickly push that image out of his brain, knowing it'll only send him further into a tizzy.) She mumbles out consent as he plucks at the button of her jeans, nudging her to sit up so he can pull the denim down her legs. He tries not to groan at the sight of a tiniest wet patch seeping through the fabric of her light blue underwear but fails miserably, pressing his forehead to her clavicle in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Y/N asks, pausing their haphazard movements to take in his facial expression.

"You're gonna kill me," he repeats his sentiment from earlier, "You're just fucking adorable and hot without even realizing it and it's taking everything in me not to completely ruin you."

Harry glances up at her to see her rounded eyes and plushy lips, gasps parting from the muted pink hue of her mouth.

"What if I want you to ruin me?"

He shakes his head and tightens his squeeze on her hips. He lays her back down against the couch and spreads her legs, kneeling to thumb at the dampened patch between her thighs.

"You need to shut up. You don't know what you're asking for, Y/N."

"Tell me then," she eggs him on, squirming as he begins to draw small circles into her covered clit, "You've always taken care of me, why would this be any different?"

"Because you're different," he mutters tightly, his large hands finding the expanse of her ribs and pushing her shirt upwards to reveal her lacy bralette, "I don't want to treat you like any other person I've been with. You don't deserve that."

She whimpers when he bucks up against her lower half, his jean-covered bulge nudging at the place she needs him most.

"Show me what I deserve, then. Please."

"That," Harry says, undoing his pants and tossing them off to the side, "I can absolutely do."

It's a mess of kisses and touching from then, eager to feel one another without any additional clothing in the way. She's naturally submissive, Harry finds, but he's not surprised at that in the slightest. He'd assumed that from the first day they met, though he'd never imagined that he would be the one nipping at her skin, licking and sucking her nipples, and pressing kisses down her stomach and over her mound, taking his time to inhale her sweet scent.

Y/N's all but gagging for it now but he refuses to go any further without stretching her out, knowing that it's been five years since she's last slept with someone. She's wet — dripping, really, from her pulsating hole down to her ass, and he wants to press his tongue flat against her lips, suckling every last bit up, but he's a man on a mission. Plus, he knows he'll cum on the spot the second he wiggles his tongue inside, and that's not part of tonight's plan.

Instead, he's able to fit three fingers inside of her, but it admittedly takes a lengthy amount of pumping, scissoring, and pressing up against the spongy spot inside of her that makes her moan especially loud. She's squeezing his fingers so tightly, her hole contracting every time he uses his thumb and swipe over her clit.

"You— please, Harry, I'm ready, I can't— can't take anymore."

He looks up to see the prettiest, most desperate looking angel with baby hairs matted to her forehead, her chest warm and splotchy. Beads of sweat are dripping down her thighs and her mascara has smudged below her lower lash line, making her look beyond fucked out.

"Okay," Harry nods, withdrawing his fingers carefully, "Okay, baby. Lemme just grab a condom."

He probably looks ridiculous as he scurries over to his pants to grab his wallet, digging to grab the condom he'd stuffed in there the day after he decided he really liked Y/N. She doesn't say anything as he peels his briefs down, revealing his painfully hard cock slapping up against his lower stomach, pre-cum beading at the slit.

He rolls the condom on and shuffles between her thighs, pumping himself a few times to relieve just some of the pressure. Their eyes are glued to one another's in an intense, lusty stare-off.

"You're sure, lovie?" Harry asks, massaging her inner thighs carefully, "You can change your mind at any time. Even if I put it in and it hurts, you can tell me."

"I trust you," she replies softly, her throat already sore from nearly a half an hour of teasing. "I know it's gonna hurt a little... but you'll get me through it, right?"

His heart breaks a bit at her need for reassurance, nodding his head quickly. He adores this sweet girl beneath him, nothing meaning more to him than her implicit trust in his care.

"Of course I will. Just keep communicating with me, okay?"

She nods and he shuffles up to her core, stroking his cock twice more before stretching his body over her. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then down to her nose, and finally to her lips.

"I'm gonna start putting it in."

It's... a stretch, a big one at that. Y/N initially winces at the pain and Harry's head snaps up, halting his movements, but she shakes her head quickly, encouraging him to continue. He slows down, slowly moving centimeter by centimeter until her breathing starts to even out. When he finally bottoms out, she feels like she's absolutely stuffed to the brim, but in the best way possible.

"Are you alright, honey?" Harry asks quietly, leaning up to brush a few hairs out of her eyes.

"Yes," Y/N murmurs, swallowing harshly, "I... I feel like you've always been meant to be here, H."

His eyes well up slightly, not only because it's the sweetest thing she could've possibly said in this moment, but because he feels that way, too. He's never felt such a connection with someone before on both a physical and emotional level and he knows right then and there, Y/N is the person that's meant to be his.

"You're incredible," he says, beginning slow, shallow thrusts, "You're everything I could've ever wanted, Y/N. This is... you're perfect."

"Oh," Y/N breathes when Harry's hips snap up against hers, the tip of his cock pressing against the spongey spot deep inside of her, "That's... you're so deep."

He groans at her widened eyes, shutting his own to prevent himself from bursting early just from her cute reactions. She feels better than he ever could have imagined the many times he fucked his fist, thinking of how warm and sweet she'd be beneath him.

"Faster, please," she mewls, her jaw falling slack at his continued assault on her g-spot.

"Yeah? Need me to go faster, honey?"

She nods vehemently and he smiles gently, beginning to quicken his pace. She loves the way he's hovering over her, closer than they've ever been before, invading all of her senses. She hooks her ankles around his waist and he groans at the small sign of initiative.

"Can I make you cum on my cock, sweetheart?" Harry asks through a tight jaw, feeling his balls start to tighten as they bump up against her ass.

"P-please," she nods, her hair a mess from Harry thrusting her into the mess of throw pillows on her couch. She's made herself finish tons of times before, but only with her own fingers and the occasional smutty book as inspiration. With Harry in her life, she'll admit that she's been hornier than ever before, always finding a sodden mess in her underwear after hanging out together. (It even happens when they spend time grading in Donnolly's office when she watches his jaw flex, gum between his teeth. The thought is enough to make her shudder.)

But with Harry finally stroking at the spots inside of her that had been neglected for years, it doesn't take much to get close to her peak. She's never felt so full before, and it's making her pussy squeeze over him in steady pulses, eliciting a grunt deep from Harry's chest.

"Can you rub your little clit for me?" Harry asks, leaning back on his heels to watch himself pump in and out of her hole. "Jus' need to see the way you touch yourself, baby... know you do, hm? My girl has a naughty side, doesn't she?"

Y/N nods her head, trailing her fingertips down the length of her body and to the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. She moans loudly as she applies a bit of pressure, pinching at it. Harry's eyes are immediately glued to her fingertips, pausing his movements momentarily to spit, landing squarely on her clit.

"Oh god," she moans, partially from shock at his boldness. She rubs his saliva in, circling the nub it small, tight circles.

"That's my girl," Harry repeats, his hands finding the back of her thighs to spread her legs a bit further apart, "So good, baby, so fuckin' good for me."

"H-harry, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum—"

He grunts as he feels her hole contracting around his cock, gushes of arousal seeping out between them.

"There you go," Harry encourages, slamming into her, watching her eyes squeeze shut and shudders coil through her body. Her fingers tremble around her clit as she orgasms violently around him, squeezing so tightly that he nearly slips out.

The image of her coming below him after imagining it for so long is enough to send him into his own orgasm. He spurts warm and hot ropes into the condom, filling it up so much that as the intensity begins to wear off, he worries that some of it will seep out from the rubber confides. He pulls out just to the tip to make sure, his cock still twitching in aftershocks.

"S-slow, please," Y/N stutters and he nods, shushing her softly.

"I know baby, I'm sorry, just gotta make sure we're all... cleaned up down here."

He'd filled the condom nearly to the brim, but thankfully, it's not enough to ooze out. He takes gentle fingertips to the insides of her thighs, where her legs meet her core, softly running them up and down as he fully withdraws.

"I'll be right back, honey. Just stay here, 'kay?"

She mumbles out some affirmative answer and he chuckles, stumbling to her bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up. He wets a washcloth and walks back out to the living room, Y/N's body still strewn across the length of her couch. He kneels down to face her swollen pussy, swallowing at the sight, ignoring the urge to continue playing with her. He knows she's exhausted based on her silence and wouldn't be able to take a second longer of stimulation. Instead, he gingerly cleans her up with the warm cloth.

"Do you feel okay?" Harry asks softly as he rises back up to his feet, grabbing his briefs and slipping them back on, "Was all of that alright?"

With tired eyes, Y/N smiles gently, nodding once. "It was perfect, Harry."

. . .

From: H🌷

Running late to class this morning, they made your latte with almond milk instead of oat

To: H🌷

h!! u didn't have to have them remake it, that would've been fine!

From: H🌷

You never get almond milk and you would've never even told me if you didn't like it. I can afford to be a few minutes late if it means you're happy.

Also, may or may not have bought Ginger another toy at the grocery store on my way home from yours last night.

Sitting in her usual seat at the front of the lecture hall, Y/N has to roll her lips into her mouth to avoid a massive grin from breaking out onto her face. She busies herself with scribbling notes in her planner as she waits for Donnolly to begin class, her nose stuck in her calendar as Harry enters the room with just a minute to spare.

She's admiring her new collection of sparkly gel pens when he plops down next to her, pushing her iced latte towards her.

"Morning." he greets with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair.

"H," Y/N whines with a blush, biting her lip at the small display of affection.

"Shush, I know."

She giggles as she takes a sip of her coffee, the familiar taste of vanilla and espresso coating her tongue.

"Thank you, by the way. I appreciate that you do this for me."

"'course, baby," Harry smiles, leaning back in his chair with his cup of black coffee. "Missed you."

"You saw me last night, silly."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't let me sleep over so you could do homework." he teases lightly, tucking his black sunglasses into the collar of his tee-shirt.

"Mhmm, but since you let me get that done, you can stay over tonight."

"Thank god."

She laughs and shakes her head at his dramatics as Donnolly claps her hands together, her signature announcement that class was beginning. Y/N glances over to the curly haired brunette next to her, who playfully widens his eyes at her. Again, she has to bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning even more.

She's not sure when her fellow TA, a grumpy, mean boy who only wears black became the best thing in her life, but she couldn't be happier that it happened.

887 notes · View notes

neowinestainedress · 11 months

Note

hey i really wanted to request a drabble where yn is in a established relationship with jaemin and they kinda have this habit of watching porn together if this is really weird just completely ignore love ur writing bye

w!: watching p*rn together (ofc), fingering, spit play (once on p*ssy), handj*b, mutual m*sturbation, oral (m receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, cr*ampie, dirty talk, voyeurism/exhibitionism/fxf mentions, you get compared to a fleshlight but it’s only because i didn’t know if the description of the position was clear enough, there are no degrading/objectifying intents behind it

a/n: hi! it’s not weird but i’m not sure what kind of porn you wanted them to watch so i’m not sure you will like this + my bisexuality jumped out i’m sorry BUT if this is not what you had in mind send it again and i’ll write it in another way. once again, it’s longer than a drabble. off topic: this fuelled my want to write an mxfxf smut fic

It all started when Jaemin caught you masturbating one afternoon just a few months after you started dating, and then it became kind of a habit.

At first, you felt a bit guilty, after all, you had him and it wasn’t like something was missing from your relationship or sexual life, but Jaemin reacted in a totally different way. Asking you to replay the video as he sat next to you in bed and started copying the act on the screen.

You never imagined you would love doing that so much, so used to having only him to focus on him when you had sex, but something about it all felt exciting.

So here you are now, legs spread open on the bed while Jaemin is behind you, touching your body and teasing your clit. You can feel his hard dick press against your back, and you’d love to try to reach back and touch it, but you’re already too lost in the video playing in front of you from the laptop (as you decided it was better than the tiny screen of your phone).

“Fuck, babe, you’re so wet already,” Jaemin comments, teasing a finger against your entrance but without pushing in. “Just seeing her body got you like that?”

“She’s hot,” you mumble, moving your eyes from the screen to your boyfriend’s fingers, feeling your body heat up when you see them already dirty with your wetness. To be fair, you were pent-up and extremely needy these days, so the scene in front of you, and your boyfriend behind, weren’t helping at all.

“Mhh, she is,” he whispers, hot breath fanning against your neck before you feel his lips on your shoulder, “not like you, though.”

You lower your head, feeling your heart flip in your chest, but before the romantic moment can sink in, his fingers start moving on your clit, just like the man in the video is doing. The moan that rolls from your tongue is almost in synch with the one the woman in the video lets out.

“Do you think he’s better than me?” Jaemin asks and you furrow for a second.

“N-no,” you reply, toes curling as pleasure starts buzzing harder in your body.

“Yet, look at her, she’s already a whimpering mess.”

“I’m trying to — I’m trying to keep my composure,” you justify.

“Why? Do I really have to say it all the time? I want to see you fall apart,” he groans, lightly slapping your clit.

You shake your head, parting your legs more, but that position doesn’t last long since Jaemin bends your knees and keeps your legs parted with his own.

You shouldn’t be so turned on by hearing another person moan, but you are. The soft sounds coming from the laptop are making you dizzy and are a killer combo with Jaemin’s skilled fingers rubbing your clit exactly like you want and his hand cupping your boobs and teasing your nipples. So you come hard as you squeeze your eyes shut and roll your head back as pleasure runs over you, failing your task of coming with the girl in the video.

“You’re so hot, babe,” Jaemin moans, flicking his fingers faster after collecting more wetness that’s drooling out of you to ride your high.

Your hips squirm away, already feeling sensitive, but Jaemin forces you down in place.

“Turn around,” Jaemin orders when your orgasm dies down. “Just like her, come on.”

Your legs are already weak, but you don’t waste time bending on his legs, ass up and chest pressed against the mattress after you took a quick glance at the screen to see how she was standing now.

You squirm when Jaemin slaps your ass and then pulls the cheeks apart, your back arching more when he loudly spits on your swollen hole, following what’s happening in the video with no hesitation.

“You liked it?” He asks and you can hear the surprise in his voice.

“I guess,” you mumble, a bit surprised yourself that you find that hot.

“Good, I’ll try to remember that,” he whispers chuckling before his fingers start teasing your clit again, making your bite your lower lip to suppress an incredibly high-pitched moan.

“I want to touch you,” you whine, trying to search for his dick and having a hard time given the position you’re in. You loved doing this because you would mutually masturbate, but lately, Jaemin had this thing of turning this into a ‘worshipping-you-moment’, especially after you found those videos that were very much female-pleasure centred. And you have nothing to complain about, but you still want to make him feel good.

Jaemin chuckles as he parts his eyes from the video to watch your wondering hand. “Here,” he says, grabbing it and bringing it to his dick. “If it’s uncomfortable we can change position.”

A dumb smile of victory blooms on your face when you finally start stroking him, finally hearing his shaky breath and first moans.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you cry out when, forcing your eyes open to stare at the screen, you see a string of cum drip out of her pussy as he keeps fucking his fingers deep into her. The arch of her back and her plump ass bouncing back and forth, making you gag at the view. “She’s so pretty.”

Jaemin chuckles, curling his fingers into you, watching your body tremble underneath him. “Would you like to fuck her like he’s doing?”

His question surprises you, even if it’s not the first time you talk about having sex with someone else, but it mostly stays on a joking ground. Still, it’s not new to you that Jaemin gets turned on by watching or being watched, a clear example these porn-watching-sessions and his carelessness doing it in risky places or when someone is around.

“Are you thinking about it, babe?” He teases, slapping your ass with his other hand, bringing you back to him. “Do you think you would get her that wet?”

“I — I don’t know,” you mumble, brain far gone, too busy thinking about too many things.

“I think you would. I mean, everyone would want you,” he hums. “I think you’d be pretty good at it too. Fingering her pussy like you do with yours, curling those fingers so nicely,” he curls them up, hitting your g-spot, making your toes curl and your back arch, “you’d make her squirt everywhere.”

At his words you lose it, squirting all over his wrist and arm, while your mouth hangs open to let out a long wail of moans that mix up with the ones coming from the laptop as the woman in the video reaches another orgasm too.

“Fuck, Nana, too much,” you cry when he pulls out, moving his fingers on your clit and entrance in quick motions to make sure he has milked everything from you. “Please.”

“We’re not done,” he says, though he stops touching your sensitive spot, and instead rubs his hand on your back, caressing it.

“You didn’t come, yet,” you whine, rolling over and staring at him while your hand resumes the movements you had stopped since he asked you that question.

Jaemin rolls his eyes back, inhaling deeply as he feels you shift next to him to get in a more comfortable position, and, so lost in the movements of your hand, he’s startled when he feels your mouth around his tip.

“Shit,” he groans, looking down at you, meeting your innocent eyes and the lift of your shoulders to tell him that was what you were supposed to be doing, and when he glances at the monitor, he gets it. “I should lay down, it’s a 69.”

Your mouth leaves his dick, and you speak. “I can’t take oral, you will kill me.”

“I’m sure you can, come on,” he orders, but you have no intentions to obey, so he gives up soon after. More moans leave his mouth as you start sucking his dick with more vigour, and the lewd sounds of your mouth adding up to the ones of the video, drive him closer to the edge faster than he expects. You bob your head up and down while your hand fondle his balls and the other one touches his torso until it reaches his sensitive nipples.

“Shit,” Jaemin grunts as he tries to hold it in for a bit more, but you know what you’re doing, and even when he escapes from your face, the view on the screen is not less hot, so he comes in your mouth as soft groans fill the room.

You pull away once you’re sure he’s done, licking your lips and kissing his in a slow, yet passionate, kiss.

Jaemin gently lays you horizontally on the mattress, adjusting the computer to make sure you can both still see the video, and then kneels between your spread legs.

You turn your head to the side, finding yourself getting caught in the way he’s touching her, hands running on her waist, tummy and then move up to fondle her soft boobs, causing her to roll her head back at the stimulation.

Jaemin coughs and you immediately bring your attention to him with apologetic eyes. “Don’t, it’s cute. I can’t really tell if you wish I was doing it to you or if you wish you were doing it to her, but I don’t mind.”

You lower your eyes for a second, feeling a bit shy, but then you make eye contact again. “Why not both?”

Jaemin chuckles, leaning down to kiss you, “Both is good.”

You moan in the kiss when the tip of his cock rubs against your entrance and starts to push in, stretching you as he slowly bottoms into you. You only focus on your boyfriend at the start, enjoying the sensation of being filled to the brim as he starts driving his hips in and out of you, cupping his face as you keep pulling him into heated kisses, the video just a background of moans and skin slapping sounds.

But a particular higher moan grabs your attention, making you turn to the side. “Me too,” you plead, looking into Jaemin’s eyes, watching as a smirk curls his lips.

“Want to feel me deeper? Is this not enough?” He teases but does what you ask anyway, wrapping his hands around your waist to lift your lower body from the mattress, your feet pressing down the bed to help him keep you up as he starts fucking your body on his length, almost as if he’s using you like a fleshlight.

“Fuck, so good,” you cry out, head rolling back as your hands clench on the sheets.

“You’re so wet, it really turns you on so fucking much,” he groans, eyes stuck where your bodies meet, watching your greedy hole suck him in and coat him with cum. “No, don’t look at me, look at her,” he orders, cupping your chin and turning your face to the side, fixating his gaze on the video too. “Look at how wet she is, just like you, dripping all over his cock. That’s why she turns you on so much, ’cause you’re both desperate, uhm?”

You mumble a senseless reply, chest heaving faster as you feel close again. Your clit is painfully hard and you need him to touch you, you don’t care you might pass out after this orgasm. The thing is, you’re so turned on that you don’t even think about asking and just do it yourself.

Jaemin watches your hand sneak between your bodies but doesn’t say anything, he only stands straight again to have a better view and goes back to fucking you like before. The scene in front of his eyes is addictive and intoxicating, his eyes keep moving up and down from between your legs, where your hand is moving skillfully on your clit, to your face, still focused on the video. It’s so hot to watch you pleasure yourself and get lost in someone else getting fucked, and he’d die to know what’s running in your brain — if something is running in your brain, because you look pretty fucked out and he’s not sure you have a single thought that makes sense in you.

You feel like it’s a matter of seconds now and your fingers start moving faster, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, feeling them heavy as the pleasure intensifies but you still turn your face to your boyfriend, you want to look at him while you come. And as expected, the third orgasm washes over you in a few seconds, leaving you moaning and gasping for air, back arching to fuck back into him while you keep touching your clit. You hear louder moans next to you, but you don’t turn to the side to look, preferring to watch as the climax hits Jaemin too, watching his lips part as he groans and whimpers, eyebrows narrowed and head slightly thrown back.

You both go out of the haze just in time to see the end of the video, a close-up of the creampie that shouldn’t make you clench around his dick but does.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he whispers, watching the cum ooze down her hole, slowly dripping on the mattress. You don’t say anything, but you think that too, and have to look away before getting turned on again.

Jaemin is shaken out of the haze when the screen turns back, his eyes on you as he pulls out, pushing your legs up to imitate the shot of the video and staring at his cum leak out of your swollen pussy.

You let him do his thing, too tired to even try to steal a glance between your legs, but when his fingers plunge into you again, you let out a scream of his name.

“Fine, fine, sorry,” he chuckles at your glaring stare. “It’s just hot, you know I like fucking my cum back into you.”

“I will pass out if you touch me again,” you reply and he kisses your frown away.

“’m sorry,” Jaemin whispers against your lips before pulling you into a hug. “I’ll save it for another time.”

You giggle, kissing him again. “Yeah, I think we have many things to save for another time,” you stop, smiling shyly. “If you want to.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#anon answered #jaemin hard hours #jaemin hard thoughts #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours

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muniimyg · 5 months

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4.5: say it 》 series m.list

note: some feelings, some banter,, some smut at the beginning of the 3rd scene <3 have fun,, enj !!! do we like yuna and tae? vibes on... the jealousy? lmk what u guys think !!!mwah <3 updating sooon

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

Soccer was something Jungkook was known for on campus.

It never occurred to you just how well-known he was until now… Yet, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Jungkook had quit the team out of boredom and curiosity only to be begged back in as if he’s their ace.

Okay, fine.

… He probably is the ace.

Jungkook comes off as too perfect. It’s quite irritating, actually. He has decent grades, a fun friend group, and a well-balanced lifestyle. You can’t help but hate that being a part of his routine for the past few weeks has you in this emotional state: needy.

You’ve never felt this way before.

Before the arrangement between you and Jungkook was made, you two barely saw each other. His life consisted of school, soccer, and friends. You only ran into him at parties or friendgroup outings. Having one class with him every other semester has to be the closest you two have ever been.

You’ve never missed anyone before and although there’s an underlying warm feeling—your feelings of frustration and annoyance have never been stronger. His absence may have gotten your heart to grow fonder of him—but your anger and resistance to him continue to linger.

It’s almost like a haunting feeling.

As much as you want to carry on with your day and act like you aren’t waiting for his clingy text messages; you can’t help but itch and wonder what he’s doing and who he’s with. Though his text messages yesterday provided you with some sort of comfort and assurance, you can’t help but feel uneasy about all of this.

About him.

“Earth to ____?” Yuna waves her hands in front of your face. Snapping out of your thoughts, you offer her a warm smile. “Geez, you’re so out of it these days… Are you feeling sick?”

You shake your head.

For a moment there, you were so lost in thought you forgot where you were. For a brief moment, you look out the window and notice the gloomy clouds before turning back to your space. The library is fuller than usual and Yuna is sitting in front of you with her laptop and notebook. She’s been talking for the past 20 minutes about…

Something.

You can’t recall.

Maybe you should start listening to her more… You’re truly the worst friend ever.

“You look worried… Do you have an exam you didn’t study for or something?” Again, you shake your head in response. Yuna hums as she taps her fingers on her chin. Thinking to herself, she creates a solution.

“Do you wanna come with me and see Taehyung?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Why would I want to see Taehyung?”

She shrugs, putting her hands up in defeat. “…. Was just suggesting.”

Leaning towards her, you cheekily ask; “fess up. Do you have feelings for him?”

A gasp escapes her lips as she covers her mouth with her hands. Yuna furrows her eyebrows together and looks at you in panic. “Is the ____ interested in my love life? For the first time in forever? When did you get a nose job? You’re so nosy!”

You cover your nose and glare at her.

“Shut up! Jungkook just mentioned that—”

“Jungkook, huh?” Yuna switches her hand placement immediately. She leans forward to you, putting her elbows on the table, and rests her chin on the palm of her hands. “What’s up with you two? I must’ve been wasted as hell that night at karaoke because if what I saw was true… Boy, do you owe me a girls night…”

Gulping, you keep your chin high. “What do you mean? What did you see that night?”

“He’s into you.”

“Jungkook is into everyone—”

“Yeah, right!” Yuna disagrees passionately, earning a few hushes from other students nearby. In a whispering tone, she continues. “Jungkook barely pays attention to the guys—his own friends! He does what he wants, shows up when he wants, eats what he wants and maintains his slutty figure, and parties when and with who he wants—I think… He wants you. He kept giving you fuck me eyes all night… And you! Don’t act all innocent. I saw you sulking like a little bitch! Which.. Is new? I’ve never seen you clingy before… Not with any of your exes... Not even with me."

You roll your eyes at her. Though her words rang true, you refuse to yield. If Yuna, the densest human in the world, can figure you out... You're fucked.

“You’re right.”

Yuna’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“You were sooo wasted that night.”

After a few hours of studying, you and Yuna pack your things up. She practically begs you to come with her as she meets up with Taehyung. In all honesty, it didn’t take much convincing. For some reason, you say yes with the tiniest bit of hope that Jungkook would be with him.

Although, you don’t ask.

Hurrying out of the library, Yuna instantly spots Taehyung. With a toothy smile, he waves and picks up his pace. He greets Yuna with a pat on her head and you by nudging your arm.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

Shrugging, you look around as if you could spot Jungkook. Shyly, you answer, “thought he was with you.”

“He came home late yesterday…” Taehyung says as if it mattered for you to know. “I assumed he was with you.”

In response, you shake your head at him. “Nope. I haven’t seen him in a while… Last time was when we got coffee—”

You wince at the memory.

“You okay?” Yuna’s face falls concerned. Taehyung looks at you rather confused. She hits his arm and confides in him. “See what I mean? She’s been like this all day.”

Taehyung tightens his lips as he gives your odd behaviour some thought. “Maybe she’s sleep-deprived. Are you sleepy, ___? You look a little tired.”

“Maybe the break-up is finally hitting her. Do you miss him, ___? Is that it?” Yuna suggests rather passionately. “You know, I miss him! He was a good boyfriend and you seemed happy—”

You huff, feeling defeated. “I’m just tired. I guess I’m more tired than I realize. I think I should just head home… I’ll catch up with you guys next time.”

Yuna shoves Taehyung away and pulls you in a hug. She sways you two side to side and cries; “my poor baby, ____! Feel better, okay?”

Laughing, you ask Taehyung to help you peel your best friend off of you. When Yuna lets go and gives you space, her eyes suddenly squint as if she has just seen something unpeculiar. Then, she rubs her eyes to be sure.

“Is that Jungkook?”

You turn your head and feel your heart clench.

It feels conflicted.

Yes, that was Jungkook.

… But with whom?

Before you can escape or avoid eye contact with him, Taehyung has already waved them over. Jungkook nods, acknowledging you all. He crosses the street and you turn around, keeping your head low. You do this because for some reason you feel all shy… Like you didn’t just have sex with him a week ago—in front of a mirror.

“Whose that?” Yuna asks, disregarding the fact that the two were practically a three feet away.

“Who knows,” Taehyung scoffs. “Secret girlfriend? Sneaky link? Who knows with that kid.”

Yuna gasps. “No way! I thought he was into ___—”

“Hey,” Jungkook greets brightly. Taehyung and Yuna greet him with the same energy. He offers a big smile as he stands beside you and pinches your waist. You itch away and avoid eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he catches your behaviour and feels confused.

In a low tone, only loud enough for you to hear; he mutters, “Don’t ignore me. That’s fucking annoying.”

You don’t move. Still, you ignore his seductive words.

He tilts his head at you but figures you’re just in a mood. Shifting his focus, Jungkook breaks the ice. “Where you guys going?”

“I just met up with them like a few minutes ago,” Taehyung explains. “We were gonna grab dinner but I think—”

“Hi, I’m Yuna!” your best friend interrupts Taehyung. She stretches her hand out for the girl to shake. She takes Yuna’s hand and shakes it. “This is Taehyung and my best friend ___!”

You raise your head and offer a short-lived smile. A simple, “hi,” is all you manage to choke out.

Mina has short brown hair and pretty eyes. She’s a little shorter than you and has Jungkook’s towel hanging on her arm.

You feel sick.

“Nice to meet you guys! I’m Mina, Jungkook’s friend…” she pauses and lets out a shy laugh. “Actually, I’m more of his fan than I am his friend.”

Like a groupie? Ew.

Jungkook joins her and laughs. “She usually sits around with her friends on bleachers and watches our practices. We’ve been catching up since I got back in with the team. We were going to get dinner too.”

Taehyung and Yuna nod, taking in the information. “Well, do you want to join us?” Yuna suggests. “___ isn’t feeling well so she was going to go home. It’d be nice to have better company! ___’s been so out of it today—”

You shush her.

“You okay?” Jungkook brings his attention to you.

It feels like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach. When did Jungkook’s gaze ever feel this… weird? It’s difficult to describe but it’s like you’re nervous or something. All you can really do is nod in response.

“I’m okay,” you assure him.

“You sure?” he presses, taking a step closer to you.

He’s much closer to you this time and your body betrays you by staying still. You don’t move. You don’t even flinch. If anything, you take a deep breath and inhale his scent. It’s comforting after all the days you’ve spent away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see Yuna begin to get excited to be witnessing this moment. When you can sense that she’s about to explode in best friend behaviour, you make your move.

“Can I talk to you?” you blurt. “Please? It’s about that thing…”

Jungkook blinks.

“Sure,” he doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Text me the address. I’ll just drive ___ home so we can talk.”

You're thankful he says this. You're thankful he goes along with your request without question. For a second there, you weren't sure if he was on your side.

Rather, you worried if he liked you enough to choose you regardless of the mix-signals and thus far constipated interaction.

Mina offers a warm smile in return, but you can’t help but notice the disappointment in her eyes as Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulder and carries it. He assures Mina that he’s leaving her in great hands and that he’ll be there no later than 30 minutes.

“I parked my car that way,” Jungkook points towards the end of the street. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah,” you almost stutter. “I’ll see you guys next time. Nice to meet you, Mina.”

“You too! Feel better,” she says sincerely. “See you in a bit, Jungkook?”

“See you in a bit,” he promises. Mina takes his word for it.

Jungkook bids his last goodbye before grabbing your wrist and practically dragging you to leave. As he does so, you watch Mina, Taehyung, and Yuna wave you two goodbye. Even a few feet apart, you can practically hear Yuna begin her gossip session.

“See? He’s so into her!”

Unlike last time, there was no issue.

Oh, it was up.

Jungkook hisses at your touch.

As you take his cock out, you run your thumb across the tip. You pump him, feeling his velvety skin follow the way you move your wrist. He’s thick—practically two hands on deck kind of thick. In fact, he looks even bigger in your hands. Maybe it’s the LED lights in his car or the fact that he hasn’t cum since your last meet-up—but he was bigger than usual today. If anything, it made you drool.

Dipping your head low, you stick your tongue out and move his cock with your hands. You slap it against your needy tongue before closing your mouth and sucking on it.

Bobbing your head, Jungkook can’t resist. He grabs a fistful of your hair and begins to push your head up and down. He holds your head close, making sure his dick touched the back of your throat. You gag and he takes that as a sign to let go. Pulling away, you take a quick breath in before puckering your lips at him.

He shifts from his laid-back position and leans forward. Jungkook wraps his hand around your neck and brushes his thumb against your puffy lips.

“You know how I like it,” he utters. “Missed this fucking mouth. Begging for kisses?”

With hopeful eyes, you nod.

“Anything my girl wants,” Jungkook leans in and kisses you slowly. He pulls away after just three kisses. “... My girl gets.”

“Kiss me lots,” you whine.

Jungkook’s stomach turns. If it could do flips, that’s what it does. He would be an idiot not to know why you were acting this way… Yet, he still wanted to have fun.

“Make me cum and I’ll kiss you all you want.”

With that, you get back to it.

You spit on his dick as you pump him at a slow pace. His hands travel to your shirt, pulling at the neckline to see your cleavage. You let go of him to lift your arms. Without hesitation, Jungkook helps remove your shirt and admires your breasts in a plain black bra.

Suddenly, you shift your position. The passenger seat is extremely uncomfortable considering you’re giving him head… But this part must be the hardest part. You lean your body towards him more, prioritizing your breasts. Somehow, you manage to bend a certain way and slip his dick in between your tits.

“Holy shit—” Jungkook cries as he begins to lose it.

You bite your lip, trying your best to make this work. You hold your breasts closer together as he begins to pump himself. Every time Jungkook lifts his hips to dig himself deeper in, you can’t help but like the way the head pops up.

It’s almost cute.

The position doesn’t last very long. You begin to cramp and Jungkook misses your mouth. So, you switch back to giving him a blow job. Then, that doesn’t last very long because Jungkook can’t do it anymore—he can’t hold it in. His breath hitches as you suck his dick. He throws his head back and hisses your name.

“___,” he cries, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Then, he cums.

He spills himself into your mouth and you swallow. As he empties himself, you take it upon yourself to lick his dick clean. Today, his cum tasted sweeter than usual. You wonder if his diet changed or if you just haven’t tasted him in a while.

Jungkook stares in amazement as you finish him off. He can’t help but let his mind spin as his body tingles from the sensation you caused. When you finish, you straighten yourself out and he hands you your shirt. Putting it on, you sit yourself back properly in the passenger seat and sigh in relief. Jungkook tucks himself back in.

“Good talk,” you joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

Oddly enough, you feel awkward. What were you supposed to do now? After you two got into his car, it didn’t take much time before you threw yourself at him. Happily, he received your kisses and took it upon himself to drive towards his place. Parked outside his home, the coast was clear. You gave him head and now you feel stuck.

Jungkook notices the panic in your eyes and reaches his hand out. He places them on your upper thigh, causing you to look at him.

“What’s up with you?” Jungkook can’t help but ask. “You miss me too much?”

You scoff, “as if.”

He laughs, moving closer to you. Jungkook rubs your thighs innocently and squeezes it. It’s comforting for some reason… You like the way he touches you.

“Spit it out, pookie.”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just wanted to give you head. You can take me home now.”

“Ha!” Jungkook taunts you. He then removes his hand from your thigh and reaches for his phone on the dashboard. Looking at the time, his eyes widen.

“Shit!”

“What?”

“It’s been an hour? Mina called me like five times. I’m late—no, I missed it.”

Giving him head didn’t take an entire hour.. No, it was the flirting and the clingy talk that took majority of the time. Convincing him to let you give him head? That wasn’t even a conversation that needed to be done. It was always yes for you. So, you took your time.

Flirting.

Kissing.

And giving him a sloppy blowjob that completed the 1 hour mark of stalling.

Your lips curve into a small smile. Looking away, you feel a sense of relief. You aren’t proud of yourself but… This was something you could live with. As you stay silent, you think of what you could possibly say in this situation without coming off suspicious.

But, your silence lasts a second too long.

“Wild guess but… Did you give me head so I’d miss the dinner?” Jungkook theorizes.

You turn to him, eyebrows knitted together and your head slightly tilted to look confused. “Are you blaming me for missing the dinner?”

“Are you gaslighting me?”

You’re tongue-tied. For the first time in forever, you have no come back. Your brain can’t think of any words. Slowly and then all at once, you felt like a stupid idiot sitting in his car. Had you gone too far? You’ve never seen yourself act upon jealousy like this… You have no excuse. You have no explanation. You don’t feel like yourself.

“Mina’s pretty. Is she your type?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your question. Partly because he didn’t want to entertain whatever you had stirring up in your mind and partly because he didn’t want to feed tour ego.

“___? What’s up with you?”

“I don’t know.”

He sighs, not knowing whether he finds this irritating or cute. Why would you sabotage something so meaningless? Dinner with friends? It’s not like you weren’t invited either… His thoughts lead him to one question: “I think you’re acting jealous. Are you jealous?”

Unsure of what to do, you decide to give up. “Are you going to be mad at me if I admit that I am?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is this you admitting that you are?”

You reply in silence.

“___?”

“Give me a fucking minute, okay? I’m trying to figure out if I should lie or not,” you groan. Taking a moment, you look into his eyes. “Am I supposed to lie, Jungkook?”

Now, he feels choked. “Maybe.”

You blink at him.

Before you can stop yourself from the words that have been spiraling through your head all day—you confess softly; “I’m jealous.”

His head begins to spin. Is this what post-orgasm depression is? The pit of his stomach feels weird…

Taking a deep breath, you shift your body to face him as best as you can. Fidgeting with your fingers, you push yourself to admit the ugly truth: “I don’t think I can lie about it… Jungkook, I don’t like it. I don’t like seeing you with other girls and I’m annoyed you have a little fan club. So, yeah. I sucked your dick so you’d miss your little date. I’m sorry, it was selfish of me… So, go catch up with her if you want…. I was out of place. I don’t care anymore—”

“Yes you do,” he cuts you off.

You gulp, noticing the way his eyes have lit up.

“Say it,” Jungkook insists. “Say it and I won’t go.”

With shifty eyes, you ask, “really?”

In all honesty, he wasn’t looking for a specific word or phrase. He just wanted you to say it. Say something. Make this fuck session mean something.

Jungkook breathes, “I’m all yours if you want me to be.”

“Yikes…”

He shoots you a glare. You’ve ruined the moment.

Jungkook reaches over and unlocks your door. “Fine. I gotta get going. You can walk home from here, right? Mina won’t mind me being a little late—”

You hit his chest with an annoyed look on your face.

He smirks, “say it.”

“Jungkook,” you begin. “Don’t make me feel this way, okay? The second you continue this vibe, I’m going to expect more from you and that’s not what we—”

“Then expect more,” Jungkook scoffs. “It’s simple, ____. If you’re jealous, tell me. If you like me, tell me. If you hate this and want out—give me at least two weeks’ notice so I can emotionally prepare.”

A part of your heart feels like it’s being tugged. Was he always this good with words? For some reason, you find it humorous. “You bring up confessing a lot… Are you trying to tell me something, pookie?”

“Please,” Jungkook laughs. “I’m not here to play stupid games and win stupid prizes. I’m not confessing until I have you absolutely in love with me… Pookie, this jealousy thing? It’s just the start. Just a little longer and you’ll be standing outside my window in the pouring rain, begging for me.”

In response, you make a puking face at him. “Shut up. The minute you get jealous, I’ll make you eat your words.”

He leans in and puckers his lips. “Why waste your time getting me to eat my own words when I can eat something else?”

You cup his face and squish his lips together. Pressing your lips against his, you pull away quickly with a cheeky smile. “Keep entertaining your little fan club and you’ll be eating nothing.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “It’s not my fault they watch while we practice—”

“Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

He does just that.

Jungkook buckles your seatbelt and then his. Turning on the engine, he pulls out of his driveway and begins to drive you home. It’s a short 15 minute ride, but it’s filled with your rambling and constant shuffling of songs in his playlist.

As he stays silent, half-assed listening to you; he soaks in your presence and can’t find a single fibre in his body to be mad at you. He knows that what you did tonight was unacceptable. You had caused Mina to look like she got stood up and jeopardized a perfectly peaceful night by earning him a place on Taehyung’s hot seat of questions later tonight… But it’s okay.

With the smile on your face and the way you hesitate to reach for his hand as he drives; he can’t but help to feel like it’s worth it. Your hand will take his without a second thought one day. One day, you’ll be a part of the little fan club you hate so much. One day, it’ll work out because it has to.

If he never goes through these exact moments with you, maybe he wouldn’t have known his feelings for you… But, he does and it’s so clear to him.

Jungkook will wait for you.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fwb #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts scenario #bts jk fic #bts smau #bts imagine

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miserycanary · 26 days

Text

TELL ME THAT WE'LL BE JUST FINE ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶ ⤷ next

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the aftermath (inspired by T.S Afterglow)

tags: light angst (no comfort/comfort? who knows)

The door creaks open, the cheeriness that you usually carry to greet Ghost by the entrance of your shared home nowhere in sight. The whole place was eerily quiet with his footsteps the only source of life. “My love..?” he calls out, peeking in the kitchen where you’d usually be sitting with a laptop in front of you, the food forgotten and burning. It’s usually unsalvageable and you guys would just agree on ordering take-out while he soothes and assures you that you don’t have to cook for him.

His long legs quickly take him to the bathroom, hoping he’d see you washing up and offering him to shower along with you. The water would run high as you let him wash you up while chatting about your day, then you'd do the same to him and he complains about the “useless recruits”; the vice versa. Yet, there was no silhouette of you there. With a sigh, he closes the door and approaches the final room.

There, Ghost sees you laying down with your legs huddled close to your chest. He noticed the little hiccups— an indication that you’ve been crying— and that broke his heart. When he watched your figure walk away from him, he knew he fucked up and that he hurt you. Ghost calls for you once again with a gentle voice, trying to coax you. “Y/N..? Baby..?” He approaches the bed. The mattress dips as he sits behind you and placed a heavy hand on the shoulder he saw was developing a bruise. Just the sight of the darkening blemish almost made him throw up. He did this. He did this to you, his darling flower.

After his skin made contact with yours, you flinched and distanced yourself like you’re afraid he’d hurt you again. The way you looked at him was so.. foreign and unusual. Like he was an animal that’s going to attack any minute. He stilled at your reaction, betrayed at how could you even think of him like that. Ghost stayed silent and so did you, only staring at the wall in contemplation. Finally, the silence was cracked by something much worse. At that moment, Ghost would rather endure a century of you ignoring him than to accept the words that came out of your mouth.

“I’m leaving. I talked to one of my friends and she’s letting me stay with her,” you mumbled. The pain shooting through Ghost’s heart was unlike any other. It felt like he lost his heart— because he did. “What..? No, no. Let’s talk, baby,” he begs of you, clasping both your hands with his and peppers it with kisses, yet you only pull away. His lungs seem to not take in any air. Everything you say was inaudible to him. The only thing running through his mind was he was losing you. That he was losing the only thing that made life worth living— worth surviving each day because he knows he’ll always have you to come home to, with a smile so warm and a hug so comforting.

“No! I’m not letting you leave,” he cuts you off. The firmness in his voice sent shivers down your spine but you stood your ground. “Ghost,” you start.

| ‘Don’t call me that. I’m Simon. I’m your Si. Why would you call me Ghost?’

“I’m tired of this, okay? I’m tired of you trying to act like everything will pass and that it could be fixed by just burying it under the mushy lovey stuff. I’m tired of never getting an apology from you because you cannot communicate.”

| ‘I know that. I know I’m not the best at talking but don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Please’

Ghost stays silent because he knows everything you said was true, while you desperately look at his eyes. The hope that he’d finally muster the courage to talk and ask you to stay was slowly being forgotten. Was this all you’re worth to him? Were you not worth being asked to stay? Won’t he at least try?

“I’m leaving and that’s final.”

| ‘Please don’t let me go, Si. Please tell me you want me to stay and that you’re sorry. That you’d do better. Please just say anything. I’m going to stay with you if you just tell me to. Don’t let this be our end. Fight for me… fight for us’

“Okay,” he whispers, getting up and leaving you alone in the bedroom you usually would say carry the love you guys bloomed for 9 years with the walls painted with your memories and milestones with him. Now it serves as the grave of what you guys were— of what you and Simon had.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: part 2 is here!! I hope it passed people’s expectations.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @fictionallifestuff

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost angst #simon riley cod #cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #canary’s melodies

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psychostxr · 6 months

Text

𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢 | emotions

PAIRING. jordan li x gn! reader

WORD COUNT. 0.7k

WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of death, marie bashing (i'm sorry)

NOTES. i have also hopped on the jordan li train, and my god, i've never had a character chokehold me so tightly

Since Marie Moreau joined Godolkin University, everything has gone downhill. After the death of your friend Luke and the murder of your favorite professor, your life has gone through a ball of shit. You didn't want to blame Marie. The poor girl got caught up in Luke's drama — drama you didn't even know existed — she's just as traumatized as you are.

That's what you would've said before news spread around school that Marie and Andre were the ones that stopped Luke, not Jordan. Your partner who actually fought Luke while Marie ran at the first sign of danger. The thought of Marie frustrates you to no end, but you have other things to worry about, such as Jordan locking themself in their room since classes ended.

For as long as you've known Jordan, they've always been competitive. They climbed up the school's student ranks at Godolkin, beating almost anyone and everyone who tried to get in their way. They were one stop away from being first-ranked. But because of Marie and Andre's 'courageous act' of stopping Luke, they've been pushed up the ladder, while Jordan has to settle for fifth. It hurts to see Jordan so angry at the world and themself.

You knock gently on Jordan's door, hearing the muffled sounds of what you presume to be Marie's interview with Hailey Miller. The room goes quiet, and you wait a few moments for Jordan to open the door. But they don't.

"I know you're in there, Jordan." You turn the doorknob, rattling the door in your unsuccessful attempt to get in. You sigh and lean your head against the door. "Please open up, baby. I'm worried about you."

There's a moment of silence until the door cracks open. You take a step back, seeing Jordan's somber expression.

"Hey," you say, smiling softly. "Can I come in?"

Jordan hesitantly returns your smile. "Sure."

They open the door wider, allowing you to enter their dimly lit room. Their room is nothing from the usual, with clothes strewn over their couch and textbooks scattered on their desk. You pull your bag off your back, setting it down on Jordan's bed to retrieve your laptop and the takeout you bought from Vought A Burger.

"I was thinking we could maybe watch Property Brothers and have dinner together?" you suggest. "Or any other show if you want?"

Jordan shakes their head, their lips quirking upwards. "That sounds really nice, actually."

You pass Jordan the takeout, unsure if they've eaten anything since having lunch with you earlier today. You quickly set up the laptop on the coffee table before sitting on Jordan's bed.

Leaning against the headboard, you open your arms wide. "Come here."

Jordan doesn't hesitate, settling themselves in your waiting embrace. Their arms wrap around your torso, pulling them closer until their head finds a comfortable spot nestled against your stomach.

Feeling the weight of Jordan's emotions, you hold your partner close, your arms enveloping Jordan's shoulders. You softly kiss the crown of Jordan's head, your lips brushing against their ink-black hair.

"I'm sorry you're having a shitty day," you whisper, threading your fingers through their silky strands. "It's not fair."

"It's not your fault," Jordan says, sighing. "Shit happens."

"This school is shit," you explain, your anger spiking. "You've worked your fucking ass off to become second-ranked at Godolkin, but because of Marie and our asshole of a principal, you've lost your spot."

Jordan lifts their head to look at you. "It sounds like you're more upset than me."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." You shake your head before staring lovingly at Jordan. "I love you so much, Jordan. So much that I feel everything you feel. When you feel angry, I feel angry. When you're sad, I'm sad. So when you go through these obstacles in life, you aren't alone. I will always be there for you, baby."

Jordan crumbles at your words, and a small smile plays on their lips. They lift themself and lean towards you. Their lips press against yours gently before pulling away, leaving you no time to savour the kiss.

"I'm lucky to have you," they admit.

As you grin, you pull Jordan closer into another kiss. But this time, you can feel the intense emotions radiating off them, and you soak in the passion and love from Jordan's kiss. The rest of the night is spent in each other's arms, binge-watching Property Brothers and devouring greasy takeout.

#gen v #gen v x reader #gen v x you #gen v imagine #the boys #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys imagine #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li imagine #psychostxr

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visionofhope04 · 5 months

Note

Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?

How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!

---

It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.

Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.

It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.

You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.

"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.

Then everything faded to black.

---

"Hello?!"

A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.

"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.

"Ah!"

"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.

"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.

“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"

"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.

"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."

"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"

"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."

He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.

"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.

"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.

"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"

"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."

"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"

"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.

"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."

---

They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.

Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."

"You can remember that but not your name?"

"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."

"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."

"Thank you."

---

They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.

Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.

"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.

"Yes darling, when is it not?"

"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."

He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.

"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.

He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.

---

8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.

---

Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.

Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?

As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.

Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you

"How do you know my wife?"

"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.

"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.

All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.

"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.

"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.

The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?

"We're your family."

The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."

This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.

"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"

"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"

"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?

---

Words: 1,847

#batfamily #batfam #batfam x reader #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #avengers x platonic reader #colossus #colossus x reader #tim drake #damian wayne #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader

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