#also the way she keeps glancing at his lips
Note
pleaser part 4 pls 🙏🙏🙏
Hiiii! I hope you like it!
Sorry I left it on a cliffhanger again but I'll have the next part this weekend if anyone wants it!
Also, I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this, but I literally had almost 20 requests in my ask box for it. HOPEFULLY it doesn't suck😭
AND I STG BAD IDEA, RIGHT?(Part 4) IS STILL COMING! I'm struggling to get the end just right lmao.
Pleaser - Stepbrother!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 4
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Summary: You're still sneaking around with your stepbrother, and it's looking like you have the chance to actually be together with your mom and his dad splitting up.
Contains: p in v, fingering-ish, thigh riding, stepcest but like...your mom and Ethan's dad aren't really together anymore so is it really that bad💀(I know I'm probably missing something but if I read this again, I'll delete the whole fucking thing lmao)
A/N: There's a lot of dialog in this fic, even the smut. If that's not your thing, don't read it:)
After a couple weeks of you sneaking around with Ethan, you started to get a little reckless. You knew how close you were to leaving for college, and you knew the odds of your mom sending you away at the last minute weren’t very high. It got to the point where he was sneaking through your bedroom window every night because you didn’t want to sleep without him. Then, he’d have an alarm set to wake up before Wayne and your mom would get up for work and go back to his room.
The situation between your mom and his dad seemed to be civil, even though Wayne had to sleep on the couch while he tried to find a house. He even contemplated getting an apartment for him and Ethan while they figured it out, but your mom was adamant that it wasn’t a big deal. As irritated as she was over the situation, she didn’t feel right for Ethan to bounce from place to place right before he was leaving for college anyway.
You were sure that your mom had no idea that you were still spending time with Ethan, but she started to notice little things. The flirty glances, the sneaky subtle touches. But what really let her know that you’d found a way to spend alone time with Ethan was when you were helping her make dinner, like you always did, and you put your hair up to get it out of the way. She saw the huge purple mark on the nape of your neck, and she realized that you had no idea it was even there once Ethan walked into the kitchen to see what was for dinner, and his eyes grew wide the second he saw it. He motioned for you to put your hair back down, your cheeks turning bright red. You thought she didn’t notice because she didn’t say anything, but she was planning to later that night after dinner.
Just like clockwork, you and Ethan excused yourself to go to bed right after dinner was over. He was crawling through your bedroom window as you walked over to cut the lights off, your room only lit by the moonlight that was pouring through the window before Ethan closed it and drew the curtains shut.
As you crawled in bed with him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Your back was pressed to his chest as your legs were spread for him, his fingers rubbing over your panties as he placed open mouth kisses along the side of your neck.
“You’re so hard,” you said, as your ass was pressed against his cock that was straining in his boxers.
“You always do this to me,” he mumbled against your neck. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
“You can,” you whispered, as he slid your panties to the side.
“You think you can be quiet?” he asked, a gasp slipping past your lips as he slid one of his fingers inside you.
Before you could say anything else, you heard a light knock on your door before it eased open. Ethan pulled his hand away from you as you closed your legs. You both froze in fear as you saw the silhouette of your mom as she made her way inside your room.
“Are you still awake?” she whispered, as she tried to navigate through the darkness of your room.
“Yeah, I was almost asleep. Just don’t cut the light on,” you said, your anxiety creeping up as she sat down on the foot of your bed.
“We need to talk about you and Ethan,” she said softly, “I know you’ve still been sneaking around.”
Ethan was trying to be as still as possible as he laid beside you. He was so thankful for your blackout curtains, and how you really couldn’t see anything in the room.
“I know you’re probably going to try to deny it, and I don’t want you to lie to me right now. Please be honest with me,” she said, as you took a deep breath.
“When am I going to dads?” you asked, confirming her suspicions without actually admitting to it.
“Do you love Ethan?” she asked, as you tensed up. You hadn’t said those three words yet, and you knew she was just trying to have girl talk with you to know where your feelings were, but you didn’t want to tell her when he was right behind you. “I think he loves you. He looks at you like it’s way more than just some fling.”
“It’s not just some fling,” you said, as you felt Ethan's hand rubbing against the back of your thigh. “I guess I do have really strong feelings for him.”
“I know I was upset when I first found out about the two of you, but I really like him. I’ve seen a different side of him since the weekend that Wayne and I went on our little trip,” she said, as she started to laugh to herself. “You know he used to annoy the shit out of me.”
“He’s actually really sweet,” you said, as his hand just kept moving.
“I’m not going to send you to your dads…and I think I’ll ask Wayne and Ethan to take the cameras down. They don’t really seem to be serving a purpose,” she said, “But, don’t think that I’m okay with the two of you going crazy. I don’t want to walk in here one morning and see him in your bed or something.”
“I’m not that stupid,” you mumbled, “But I’m really tired. Can we talk more about this tomorrow?”
“Of course, honey. Get some sleep,” she said, as she stood up to make her way towards the door. “If you want, we can go get stuff for your dorm tomorrow. Ethan can come, too.”
“Cool, I’ll ask him about it in the morning,” you said, as she opened the door and walked out, quietly closing it behind her.
You and Ethan laid in silence for a few minutes to give your mom plenty of time to go to bed, but he still snaked his arm around you to hold you close.
“Did she just give you permission for us to be together?” he whispered in your ear.
“I think so,” you said, smiling at the thought of it. “I’m sorry if she made things awkward.”
“I think the only awkward part was me being in the bed with you and she had no idea,” he said as he softly laughed against your neck. “Are you talking about the feelings stuff?”
“Yeah…I know we haven’t really discussed that yet. I didn’t know what to say.”
“Do you have really strong feelings for me like you said?” he said, as his hand ran up your thigh.
“I do,” you said softly.
“Good, because your mom was right…about me loving you.”
“You love me?” you asked, as he nodded his head against you.
“I have since we were left alone for the whole weekend.”
You adjusted on the bed so you were facing him, your legs tangling with his as he held you close.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you questioned, as he sighed.
“It’s a complicated situation. I didn’t want to say it until I knew we actually had a chance to be together.”
“I love you, too, babe,” you said, as you leaned up to kiss him. You started to laugh against his lips once you felt how hard he still was, his cock brushing against you. “You’re still hard.”
“I told you; the idea of getting caught is my kink,” he mumbled against your lips. “You still want me to fuck you?”
“Mhm.”
He connected his lips to yours again, his hand running over the curve of your ass as he rubbed his cock against you. You were getting more wet by the second, the anticipation building as his tongue moved across your bottom lip. He moved his leg so his thigh was pressed against your pussy, as you started to grind against him, gasping at the friction on your clit.
Your breathing got heavier as you kept moving your hips, and once his hand on you ass was helping you move faster, you were trying so hard to be quiet. He started to groan once he felt how wet you were, your panties completely soaked as you rubbed against him.
“You think you could cum like this?” Ethan said, his tone teasing as his hand went to your hip to hold you down harder against him.
“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, as he softly laughed.
You reached between the two of you to palm him over his boxers, as he helped you move. He attached his lips to yours again to keep quiet himself, because his cock was throbbing so hard as your hand moved over the fabric. He wanted to fuck you so bad, but he wanted you to fall apart over his thigh in between your legs first.
You were whimpering into the kiss as you felt yourself start to get close. He pulled his lips away from yours, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he helped you move as fast as you could.
“Oh my god,” you said, your voice strained as he helped bring you closer to the edge.
“Try to be quiet, baby,” he said, his voice raspy as your legs started to tremble.
“I can’t,” you panted, “Fuck, we’re gonna get caught.”
“No, we’re not,” he said, as he leaned down to kiss you, hard. His mouth caught all the sounds you were trying to hard to hold in as your orgasm hit, your hand still shakily rubbing over his cock.
The grip he had on your hip loosened as you slowed down, your moans turning to soft whimpers as you started to relax against him.
“That was so hot,” he said against your lips, as your breathing started to slow.
“Now, I need to make you cum,” you said softly, reaching into his boxers to pull his cock out.
He let out a low moan once you started stroking, paying extra attention to his sensitive tip.
“Try to be quiet, baby,” you teased, “You want me to suck it?”
“I need to be inside you,” he said, “I want to feel your pussy.”
“Okay, let me grab a condom,” you said, untangling your legs from his before you rolled over to reach into your nightstand.
“I still think it’s funny that you don’t hide them under your bed anymore,” he said, chuckling as you reached into the almost empty box.
“What’s the point? My mom knows I’m not a virgin now,” you shrugged, as you felt him move closer to you, his hand pulling you towards him so your back was against his chest again.
“I can’t believe she thought you were just so innocent,” he said, as his lips went to your neck again, his hand running under the big t-shirt you were wearing. He squeezed your breast, a soft moan slipping past your lips at the feeling.
“I am innocent,” you said, your words making him squeeze you harder.
“You’re far from innocent…especially when you’re in bed with me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, playing dumb as you moved so your ass was firmly pressed against his cock.
“Keep that shit up and you won’t be able to be quiet,” he playfully warned, as he started to suck on your neck.
You moaned at the feeling as his hand moved to your hips, hooking your panties under his thumb as you adjusted to make it easier for him to slide them down. You passed him the condom, your anticipation building as you heard him open it. He rolled it on and grabbed your leg, spreading them open so it’d be easier for him to slide inside of you.
“Don’t be loud,” he reminded you, as he started to push inside you.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, feeling him stretch your walls.
“Shh, you can take it.”
Once Ethan was all the way in, he stilled to give you time to adjust, but that wasn’t what you wanted. You started to move your hips, giving your pussy the friction it was craving. He groaned at your actions as his hand started to roam under your shirt again.
“You gonna help me out or not?” you asked, once you’d been moving for a little bit and he wasn’t.
“I want you to beg me for it,” he said, as you kept moving.
“Please?” you asked, as he chuckled.
“Not good enough,” he teased, “Tell me how bad you want it.”
“So fucking bad,” you said, as his hand moved to your hip. “I need you to fuck me, please baby.”
He started to move, but it was so slow. He was helping you meet his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting that spot every single time, but you needed so much more.
“Ethan,” you whined, as he shushed you. “Please.”
He didn’t know how quiet you were going to be, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. He started giving you hard, deep thrusts, as your hand slapped over your mouth. The grip he had on your hip was getting tighter, as your free hand started to grip at the sheets. He placed kisses along your neck as he started to whisper in your ear.
“You take my cock so well.”
“Your pussy is perfect.”
“I’ve got you.”
He knew you were getting close, the sounds muffled by your hand just getting louder as he started to go faster.
“Keep moving your hips, baby.”
You did as he said, his hand leaving your hip to rub fast circles against your clit. You were whimpering as your toes started to curl, your entire body getting hot as he brought you closer to your orgasm.
He let out a low groan when your pussy started to clench him, his fingers pressing even harder as he rubbed your clit. Your body started to arch against him as you cried out against your palm, your eyes rolling back as the intense euphoric feeling washed over you.
“Gonna cum,” he panted, as his hand went back to your hip, his cock giving you a few more hard thrusts before his grip on you got shaky. “Fuuuck.”
You both laid there, the only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing coming from the two of you until it started to return to normal. He slid out of you and crawled off the bed to navigate around the darkness of your room to the trash can to dispose of the condom before he laid back down and wrapped his arms around you. You soon dozed off with Ethan’s head nuzzled against your neck.
The next morning, you woke up with Ethan’s arms still wrapped around you. You reached over to your nightstand to check your phone, your eyes growing wide once you noticed that Ethan didn’t set his alarm.
“Babe, wake up,” you said, your hand shaking his arm as he sleepily mumbled. “Ethan, it’s almost eight.”
“Fuck,” he whispered as he sat up and jumped out of bed. “Where’s my sweatpants?”
He walked over to your curtains to let a little light in so he could see, his heart pounding in his chest one he noticed your mom working in the flower bed right outside of your window. The moving curtains caught her attention, and when she glanced up, she saw Ethan quickly trying to close them.
“Your mom’s out there,” he whisper-yelled, feeling around on your floor until he finally found his sweatpants.
“Did she see you?” you questioned, jumping off the bed to put your pajama bottoms on.
“Fuck, I don’t know,” he said, “I’m so stupid.”
You tried to think of a plan, but once you heard the front door open, you walked over to your bedroom door and eased it open to see your mom walk in.
“Out the window, now,” you said, rushing him as he did what you said.
Once he was out of your room and you closed the window behind him, you turned around to walk back to the door to see your mom standing there.
“Maybe we do need to look into you going to your dads.”
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TF141 Meeting Soap’s Little Sister (a.k.a. You)
CoD ML
The task force didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. They already have to deal with Soap’s husky antics, which can already be too much to handle. Multiply that by two and no one, especially Simon, wants to deal with that.
But they certainly wouldn’t mind the company of the woman in the doorway.
Why on earth didn’t Soap warn them?
For John, it’s the sweater paws. For a second they make him selfishly want to dress you in one of his sweaters.
For Simon, it’s the way you shyly hide behind your brother, a habit you still have at your big age. Normally he loathes shows of fragility, but yours is endearing to him. For the first time in a very long while, it kindles something in him.
For Kyle, it’s your eyes. He simply can’t look away even though he’s aware it makes you uncomfortable.
“Lads, meet my sister, Y/N.” The adoration Soap has for you is plain to see in the gentle smile that plays out on his lips, proud to be your brother and amused you’ve barely changed from your younger days. Why else would you look at him, lowkey terrified of the strangers he’s brought into your home. “It’s awright, hen. They’re good men, even the big bawbag with the skull mask. Go oan an’ introduce yerself.”
Clutching your brother’s sleeve, relieved he’s home and glad for his protection, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”
And in that moment, without so much as trying, you have your brother’s unit wrapped around your finger.
So much so that Simon removes his balaclava before he even crosses the threshold. Unbeknownst to you, it’s extremely rare to see the man without his mask and always leads to the unit members exchanging surprised glances.
“What’s this, LT?” your brother asks, badly faking disbelief.
“Proper etiquette. Plus, I can’t eat with the thing on.”
“Oh, so you do eat. I thought ghosts didn’t have ta.”
“Johnny…”
“Just messing with ye, Ghost.”
“Ghost?” you ask.
“It’s my callsign, miss. I- I mean, Y/N.” He keeps his distance, but tries to make himself as small as possible to seem less intimidating. “We ain’t on duty now, so’s just Simon.”
“I see.”
Throughout the night, your brother’s comrades try to win your favour. Kyle offers to help set the table, teaming up with John who beats him to it by lifting the stack of plates in your hands. “Can’t have the lady of the house do everything, can we?”
“But-“
“Please, Y/N, allow me.” His features soften, though there’s a strange glint in his eyes you can’t name. Nevertheless, it sharpens further into sterness as John turns around and starts speaking like you’d imagine he does out in the field. “Gaz, get over here. We have to help our hostess out.”
“You… you really don’t…”
“It’s the least we can do,” Kyle reassures you, shown up at your side at the first word of the captain. “We’ll try to do it neatly.”
“Oi, Gaz, stop being cheeky and get moving.”
“Yes, sir.” Kyle sighs. “He makes it sound like we’re on a battlefield. Fortunately, this is less severe, innit?”
“It might be if there aren’t glasses between now and ten seconds,” John mutters, circling around you two to put the last plates down and move on to cutlery.
“Ever the perfectionist. Where do you keep them?” Kyle asks.
You point at a cupboard. “Right there.”
“Okay. Y/N, we’ll do a proper job. Promise.” And with that, he’s off to help set the table.
While cooking, you observe Simon dawdling around the kitchen. Or, rather, as you discover when you lift your head to check what’s going on, he’s forced to thanks to Johnny.
“Och, just offer yer help. Ah dinnae ken, chop some veggies. Also, she’s into video games- Y/N!” Johnny slaps Simon on the shoulder, feigning ignorance. “Can this wee bawbag help ye with anything?”
“Stop calling me that,” Simon grumbles through gritted teeth.
“Do you cook?”
“He-“ Soap opens his mouth to answer for his friend yet finds himself cut short.
“Haud yer wheest, John. I was nae asking you, I was asking Simon.” Holding out your spatula as a threat to your brother, you turn to the gentle giant.
Simon looks at you through his lashes, but quickly averts his gaze when your eyes meet. “I dabble. Try to put proper grub on the table sometimes.”
“Help me do the same?”
“Uh… sure.”
“Lovely!”
“Have fun, LT.” Johnny offers you both a cheeky grin, then turns on his heel to return to the others.
And so Simon finds himself cooking alongside you. Truth be told, you partially did it to save him from his brothers in arms. Regardless of how well he knows them and the amount of time he’s spent with them, their extroverted personalities still wear him out. His silence is telling, different from the intimidating version he dropped the moment you opened the door. You’ve seen how his eyes glaze over, occupied with dreams you can only guess at. Occasionally he’ll nod and make a noise to make the others think he’s listening.
Nevertheless, it’s still surprising Simon tries to start a conversation.
A conversation that goes in all sorts of, mostly nerdy, directions. So soon you find yourself listening to elaborate explanations of the lore of various FromSoftware games, a topic Simon passionately enlightens you on.
He stops mid-sentence when you chuckle. “What?”
“You have a nice voice.”
“Oh… uh… thanks.”
“Jesus, Y/N, you’re some kind of miracle worker.” Gaz walks into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. “How’d you get Ghost to talk?”
Simon glowers at his companion, but stands down when you gesture for him to remain calm. “Sometimes you simply need the right person, a genuine heart that listens. Now, boys, let’s eat.”
“Food?” Johnny calls from the couch.
“My days, what are ye? A husky?” you call, only partially truly annoyed.
Dinner is an amiable affair. The men (yes, even Soap) censor themselves, finding it inappropriate to start effin and blindin in your company. All the same, they include you in the conversation however possible and fall silent when they notice you want to chime in. Unbeknownst to you all, Johnny is especially vigilant none of the other men makes an advance towards you. Sure, you’re a grown woman. Nonetheless, to him, you’ll always be the wee bairn he held as a four-year-old boy, the barely grown girl who couldn’t stop crying when he was deployed for the first time.
You’re his little sister, the only girl he’d gift the moon if he could.
That being said, though, should you end up with any member of the unit, he dearly hopes it’s Simon. So it’s actually quite reassuring for him to see you two get along as well as you do.
“Two peas in a pod,” Soap mumbles, the words muffled by beer and the clinking of cutlery.
The lads gesture for you to remain seated while they clear the table and do the dishes.
“‘S alright, Y/N. Leave it to us,” John says when you try to get up from your chair.
“You really don’t-“
“No, no. Please.” The bear-like hand on your shoulder is gentle though strong, persuasive in its conviction for you to remain seated. “A small favour, really, to repay your kindness.”
The table cleared, John and Simon excuse themselves for a quick smoke. In the meanwhile, Johnny and Kyle wash the dishes.
For dessert, you sit the men down with coffee and tea to enjoy with a scone.
Kyle falls a little more for you when you show you’re full of contrasts. Shy on the surface yet so fierce when defying your brother. “I was doing fine, crocheting my time away without puppy antics.”
“I’m nae like a dog.” Your brother stops mid-bite to protest.
“Johnny, yer a bloody husky.”
“Well, at least I’m one that did nae get shot.”
“Oh, haud yer wheesht, like you ever will. Just enjoy yer scone and tea. Wait!” You hasten to the fridge to retrieve a jar of orange marmelade. “Here, have this.”
“Homemade?”
“‘Course. It’s not like I’ve forgotten how you dislike store bought.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Thank you for coming back in one piece, bro.” You turn to the men, who all sit up, alert. “And thank you for bringing my brother home.”
John has to restrain himself and not give into the urge to plop you in his lap. To make sure he won’t, he tucks his hands between his legs when you brush past him to retake your seat across the table.
Simon is good at hiding his emotions, but definitely wouldn’t mind it if you leaned on him and talked some more about video gaming. He loves the way your whole expression brightens when you do and would like nothing better than for you to be his player number two.
Stories and small talk, with the occasional silence to appreciate being alive and well, fills the kitchen as the arms of the clock creep closer to midnight.
At some point you stifle a yawn. Unfortunately, not before your brother catches you doing so. Johnny looks at the clock then back at you. “Alright, lads, it’s been great. However, despite her stubborn arse refusing to admit it, Y/N’s getting tired. Now being the great big brother I am,” the harsh slap on the upper arm does little to make him pipe down, “I think it’s time I show all of you the door.”
John, Kyle, and Simon get up without so much as a word of protest. After all, it’s bad etiquette to wear your hostess out nor does it help your chances with her.
You expected only a handshake as a farewell. Nevertheless, it’s hard to refuse the open invitation for a hug John gives you. His embrace is warm and gentle, testing out the waters to see what you will and won’t allow. His chest rises and falls with a satisfied sigh when you let him rest his head on top of yours. To be honest, it’s nice and comforting, the way he rubs some heat into your arms. “Goodnight, love. Thank you for the splendid evening.”
Kyle’s hug is more casual, like you’re a dear friend he’ll see again in the short run.
“Can I get a hug from you too?” you ask the man standing by the door, who has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment Simon seems about to step forward. Yet, for whatever reason, he remains where he stands.
“I don’t think-“
“Please?”
How can he say no now? His mind short-circuits when you wrap your arms around his waist. His hands hover in the air for a moment before he places them lightly on your shoulders. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”
“Had fun?”
“I did.”
“Glad to hear it. Also,” you lean back to look at him, “keep the mask off. You’re not a lieutenant here, not Ghost.”
An amused hum escapes Simon, though later in the car he’d have to keep denying Kyle’s allegations he saw him smile. “Copy.”
“Go oan, I won’t keep you any longer.”
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Simon.”
You watch the men clamber into John’s car. They’re all staying the night at his place before heading off home.
“You like him, don’t ye?”
“Who?”
“Ghost.”
“I don’t know him.” Johnny gives you a quizzical look. “Simon, though, perhaps. He’s a good man.”
“He is.”
The only man who has his blessing to court you.
Who he hopes will truly be family one day.
His future brother-in-law.
#CoD x Reader#Soap McTavish#John Price#Ghost x Reader#Simon Riley x Reader#John McTavish#John Soap McTavish#Kyle Gaz Garrick#Captain John Price#Simon Ghost Riley#CoD MW Ghost#Ghost CoD#CoD Ghost
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I can’t find the post but a while ago you made a post about Jawbone not being able to show his anger due to the way people see/fear werewolves and Sandra Lynn showing it for him.
With the fucking Bobby reveal I just keep thinking about it Jawbone having to know the kind of details he knows about how this man likely manipulated and abused someone barely old enough not to be a student at the school. Jawbone constantly having to talk himself down from wanting to rip the man limb from limb by reminding himself that if Bobby tries that shit again that student will need him just as much as Sandra Lynn does
(Also, just Sandra-Lynn breaking down at Mordrid finding out he’s back in town and Lydia just offering to take Ragh and the two of them to murder him in the middle of the night since she’s not his coworker and wouldn’t have to worry about it being obvious.)
I have this post in my drafts about Jawbone's behavior changing post finding out that Bobby Dawn was the one who did that to his partner.
How he used to respond politely to conversation with strained smiles and curt words, but wouldn't even look at him after. How his lip curls whenever he walks into the room. How he refuses to look him in the eyes, nor speak to him at all. How he never talks about Sandra Lynn anymore, and when asked about her, he just replies with a curt "she's fine" and won't elaborate.
Somehow, the silence is more chilling. The glancing daggers over the staff room over the lunch she prepared for him.
He puts extra care into the cleric students after that, asking careful questions to make sure they aren't being abused as she was.
(Lydia and Ragh killing him in the middle of the night is so perfect too. Like yeah, get his fucking ass. Two barbarians very protective of their families, sneaking up on this bitchass man when he least expects it)
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhjy spoilers#sandra lynn faeth#jawbone o'shaughnessey#lydia barkrock#ragh barkrock
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Friendly
↝a/n: I'm just posting all my old fics in my notes app because I don't have any good ideas as of this moment.
↝pairing:Steve Harrington x reader
↝warning: angst, unrequited feelings, heartbreak, sad!reader, not proofread
|| Disclaimer: I do not own (character), or any character from (show, movie, etc.). I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 4.27.24
You shouldn't be here. You knew that, but you couldn't help yourself. The feelings you had for Steve were eating at you, keeping you up at night. All the time you spend together felt like torture when you thought back to them. The glanced you would spare him even though he wasn't looking. He was never looking, not like you were.
The laughing and jokes were friendly for him, something he also did with his other friends. It just felt different for you.
You tried to keep it to yourself, you really did. It just became too much. Your thoughts were overfilling your skull, spilling out of your tear ducts late at night, when you were alone in your room.
You knocked at the door before you could stop yourself.
Steve opened the door, his face turning into one of pure bewilderment. Before he could even say hello, your mouth was open, words spewing out of it like vomit.
"I know it's late but I couldn't go to sleep. I need to get something off my chest and I need you to just...listen."
Steve went to open him mouth but closed it when your eyes harshly shut, watching as you conjured up the guts.
"I love you and I need you to love me too. Tell me that your thoughts have been of me just like mine have been of you." But you didn't say that, 'cause that would be even more pathetic than showing up at his doorstep in the middle of the night.
"You make me feel wanted and needed in a way I haven't felt before, and that's too much for me to have as just a friend." Your eyes opened, staring at the way his hand flexed against the door he held open.
Steve stood, shell-shocked.
"Tell me that the times you made me feel seen were you just being friendly. Please-"
"Steve?"
A head of blonde hair walked behind Steve, smiling politely at you, hand moving across the extension of Steve's back.
Your breath caught in your throat.
She leaned up to whisper something in his ear. He finally moved his gaze from your pathetic silhouette. He looked at her, his jaw slack from your confession. An absentminded nod was enough for her to sway back to where she came from, leaving you two in silence.
How does one come back from this? It is humiliating.
Steve bit his lip, scratching at his forehead.
"Can we talk about this another time?"
This time, it was your turn to be gobsmacked. You felt as if your life couldn't get any sadder.
Without a word, you turned, not knowing what you were supposed to do after confessing your feelings like that. Tears fell down your face before you were out of his driveway.
You couldn't show your face anywhere he would be. There is no way in hell.
The old feeling in your chest that told you to cherish every moment with Steve- the one that told you to reach out to hold his hand- was now demolished and replaced with regret.
This whole thing is just humiliating.
•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
#xoxo-sarah 🩷#🕶️#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#Steve harrington angst#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things angst#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader
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Can We Become We?
Chapter 3: So Much, Yet So Little
Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.
The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?
She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter
You can also read it on ao3 here
When everything was finally over, it was way past midnight. A majority of the guests had already filed out of the building, while the remaining few were gathered in small clusters, quietly chatting among themselves – the elders probably.
The whole wedding passed by in a whirlwind of activity, a blur of colour and sound that your mind couldn't quite grasp. The whole time, it was difficult to ignore the unfamiliar light weight around your ring finger.
All you could really focus on was maintaining that smile on your face, feeling the ache in your jaw from keeping it there for so long. It almost felt like your face was going to get stuck like that.
The night breeze was cool on your skin as you exited the wedding hall, grateful to breathe in some fresh air. You could finally drop the fake smile. Satoru and Suguru had moved to the side, each of them standing in front of their respective parents as goodbyes were being said.
Your father steps forward and takes your hand, looking you directly in the eye. “I know this wasn't what you wanted, but you need to be strong.” He says gently, his voice laced with a mix of concern.
You just nod, pulling your hand out of his grasp.
“It’s getting late, we’ll let you go.” Your mother smiles softly. "We’ll miss you so much. But please come visit us soon, alright?”
“Yeah, of course.” You try to keep your voice neutral, but you can't help but feel a little resentment towards your parents.
You knew that if you expressed your true feelings, it would only lead to more drama and stress, and you were tired of the fighting. Instead, you simply offer a tight-lipped smile and mutter a quick goodbye.
You turn around, without giving them a hug. Nothing felt real, as if it was all just some kind of dream.
A gleaming, white limousine was waiting for you, Satoru, and Suguru. The sleek car stood out against the darkness.
You’ve never been inside a limo before. You always thought that if you were going to get the chance one day, it would be so much fun, to feel like a literal celebrity. But all you felt like was a robot on autopilot.
The chauffeur, a stout, middle-aged man in a dark suit, opened the rear door for you. He offered you a polite smile and ushered you inside. The smell of freshly cleaned leather and pine air fresheners welcomed you into its embrace, as you sink back into the plush seat.
After you, Suguru enters the limo. You exchange a brief glance with him as he gets in, but neither of you says anything. Satoru follows suit, before the chauffeur closes the door. Soon, the car pulls away from the curb, silently and smoothly, like a ghost on wheels.
Between the three of you, no one speaks. And it stays like that for a while. You don’t really care though, not with the way your cheeks were hurting. Talking was the last thing on your mind right now.
You're tired, you're emotional, and above all, you're done. You’re so done with everything.
You lean your head against the window, letting out a deep, exasperated sigh as your muscles finally release the tension they've been carrying. The cool glass feels soothing against your skin. You close your eyes, focusing on breathing.
Tap tap
You frown, shrugging away the light poking on your shoulder.
Tap tap tap
“What?” You murmur groggily, not quite ready to open your eyes.
“Y/n?” That was Suguru, his voice soft but insistent. “We’re here.”
Your eyes flutter open into a squint, vision unfocused as you lift your head up from the glass. Wait what? Did you fall asleep?
“Oh.” You mumbled, trying to shake off the exhaustion that still clings to you. “I fell asleep.”
“It's okay.” Suguru says again, his tone comforting in its familiarity. For a brief second, you’re grateful that he’s being nice.
Satoru rolls down his window as a rather polite looking man with short, black hair and glasses walks up to the limo.
The man bows respectfully, arms by his sides, before straightening up again. “Sir.” He says his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Stop calling me that, Ijichi.” Satoru extends his hand out of the window, his face stoic and expressionless. “Just call me Satoru.”
Ijichi, who had been standing at attention, relaxes slightly at Satoru's words. The man produces a small set of keys from his pocket and places them in Satoru's waiting palm, before Satoru wraps his fingers around them.
Ijichi’s voice takes on a shy, almost meek tone. “You know I can't do that, sir.” He replied, a light blush growing more visible on his cheeks. “Just call me if you need anything, sir.” Satoru nods dismissively at that, and he stepped aside.
The driver takes off again, the car's wheels roll along the quiet residential road, until it eventually slows to a stop.
You blink and suddenly the fatigue of the night's events disappears. The house is not too big, no where near the grandiose of the Gojo estate, but it definitely wasn’t small either.
Satoru is quick to spring into action. Without wasting a second, he thrusts open the car door and leaps out, his movements swift and fluid. It’s fascinating, how a man with such long limbs has such precise mobility.
Suguru stays seated next to you, his eyes glued to the house in front of him. Was he overwhelmed by all of this? Should you comfort him?
Hesitating, you push the silent question away, and instead reach out to open the door. But before you can even touch the handle, the door is suddenly opened by the chauffeur.
A wave of irritation suddenly washes over you.
You suppress a frustrated huff and step down onto the pavement. You know he was just doing his job and all, but for some reason, you wanted to open the door by yourself. Annoyed, you pull at the hem of your dress with one hand to make sure it doesn't get dirty.
Satoru had already reached the wide front porch, slipping the key into the door’s lock. As you make your way to him, you notice the familiar silhouette of your car parked in the driveway of the house, beside one other. Someone must’ve dropped it off here.
Satoru had moved to the side, letting you and Suguru step through the threshold and onto the small foyer, before shutting the door. The automatic lock clicks, and the reality of everything hits you like a ton of bricks.
The atmosphere immediately shifts to something tense and awkward. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, not really sure of your place in this situation. What do you do know? Can you just walk in or…?
When Suguru decides to speak up, you felt like you could breathe again. “We need to sit down and discuss this.” His voice is calm and measured, as if he knows exactly what to do in a situation like this.
Satoru, on the other hand, looks like he’s had enough of the playing nice and pretending they’re all happy when they’re not. He shakes his head, a mixture of frustration and annoyance evident on his face.
“Discuss what exactly?” Satoru says, his voice sharp.
“This.” Suguru’s eyes narrow. “All of this.” He gestured broadly at the room and everything it contains. “And us.”
His bun, which was normally full and round, was now sagging lower on his head, weighing down from the strain of the long day. And yet, even with his hair less than perfect, it didn’t make him look any less stunning.
Satoru's lip curls into a sneer. “There is no us.” He spits, cold and biting. “There is just you, and you, and me.” He pointed at Suguru, then you, then at himself. “I said to stay out of each other’s business.”
Suguru's hand runs down his face, his eyes closing as he takes a deep, calming breath. I know that, and I said I agree with it.” Don’t groan. “But it's not that simple.” He opens his eyes, looking directly at Satoru. "We have to sit down and list everything, talk and work something out."
Your eyes dart back and forth between them, lips sealed tight to avoid adding any more fuel to the fire.
Satoru doesn’t nothing for a moment, as if he was thinking. Then his whole demeanour changes. “You wanna sit down and talk?” He scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Fine then.”
He turns on his heel, walking down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoes through the empty house. You and Suguru have no choice but to follow.
You take your seats on the couches, facing each other, the air heavy with unease. Satoru crosses his arms, a sneer on his face as he nods with his chin. “Go on, curtain bangs.” He snarls, his tone thick with contempt. “Talk all you want.”
Suguru feels a pulse throb on the side of his temple. Satoru’s attitude was really starting to piss him off. But he breathes. Control yourself. “Okay, so first things first. Are we all getting our own private space?”
Satoru’s expression remains stoic and cold, but you can see a slight edge to his voice as he responds. “If this is about bedrooms, then yes.” Blunt and to the point. “There are plenty of rooms to go around. Pick whatever.”
As the words sink, something in your heart settles.
You’ve heard that, generally, most people have sex on their wedding night. And you can’t deny the fact that, while the thought had been looming in the back of your mind the whole day, you kept telling yourself that nothing would happen. Because in the end Satoru and Suguru were forced into this too.
You were more than reassured now.
“Okay.” Suguru nods. “Now, what about everything in the house.”
“What about it?” Satoru raises his perfect, white eyebrow at Suguru, and your heart skipped a beat.
“It is yours after all. We’re basically living here as guests, are we not?”
Okay, Suguru’s point makes sense. Satoru didn’t choose for you to live here with him, it was an obligation. It’s only fair if he sets the rules.
Satoru's response is as cold as ever. He shrugs, as if to say he doesn’t give a shit. “Just don’t come into my room.” His voice was devoid of emotion. “And keep your business in your own rooms.”
You look at him in confusion, trying to understand what he meant by that. “Business?” Your eyebrows furrow.
But he only scoffs. “What? You think I’m stupid or something?” He sneers at you both, every word coming out of his mouth was bitter. “Don’t act like you’re not gonna be screwing around.”
Well that felt like a personal slap to your face. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You scowled. Was he seriously accusing you of bringing random people to fuck with? As if it was that easy? You couldn’t even rizz yourself up in front of a mirror let alone a whole other person!
“Pretty sure it was self explanatory.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “But like I said, I don’t care. This,” He takes his ring off his finger. “Means nothing to me. Do whatever the fuck you want.” As if to drive the point home, he tosses it on the coffee table.
The room is silent for a moment before Suguru speaks up, his voice firm and steady. “Okay. Well, it’s settled then.” He picks up the ring and puts it back into Satoru's palm, curling his finger over it. “We’ll stay out of your room, and we should be fine.”
“Whatever.” Satoru stands up and walks away, leaving the two of you behind.
He didn’t want anything do with you, or anyone. Everyone was the same anyway. Just greedy slobs who only cared about what they could get from him. It wasn't just a feeling he came up with overnight, it was something he knew from experience, having been used and hurt in the past by people he had let close to him.
He’s let himself open his heart before. He let himself touch and be touched. Only for the person who ‘loved’ him only act that way for his father’s money. After they got what they wanted, they had spilled the news that they never actually loved him.
The very next day, he saw them share a post with their partner, showing off their newest car. The car he had bought as a gift.
It was just one person, he tried to tell himself. He needed to have hope.
He waited some time before opening up again. This time, the one who proclaimed love lasted longer than his previous one. He was staring to believe that their promise of forever might be real.
Until they asked for a huge amount of money for their project overseas. Satoru wouldn’t say no to someone he loves right? Except, they to left him right after their project succeeded.
Satoru realised that he would only be a fool to believe anyone ever again. No one was ever going to love him. Just his money and his father’s money. There was no point in anything. He couldn’t care less about you and Suguru.
But despite all this, there's a part of him that's still searching for connection and love. He's afraid of getting hurt again, but he's also lonely and longing for something real.
The soft pillow cradles your head as you stare up at the ceiling. You don’t know how long you’ve been awake. There was only the rise and fall of your chest. The bed you were on is so soft, so comfy. One would think you’d have blacked out the moment you touched it, considering how tired you were. But you couldn’t.
Your eyes were sore. You sigh and roll over, trying to force your eyes closed, but it's no use. Your mind wouldn’t switch off.
Suddenly you hear it. The soft, mournful notes of a violin fill the air, piercing through the silence of the night. (Violin playing)
At first, you're not sure if it's real or just a part of your sleep-deprived imagination. But as the music continues to play, the sound becomes more distinct, and you realise that it's coming from somewhere outside.
You make your way to the window, eyes straining in the dark as you search for the source. Then you see him. Satoru. He wasn’t asleep either? You slide the window open.
The night air was cool, but Satoru seemed to hardly notice the chill. He stood still on the back porch, with nothing but the moonlight illuminating his figure with a silver lining. The white hair on his head seemed to shimmer in the dim light.
He held his violin under his chin, the bow in his other hand, moving effortlessly across the strings as he played a melancholic melody. It was a hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to echo through the night, filling the air with a sense of loneliness and longing.
He looks otherworldly.
Suddenly, weariness takes hold of you, wrapping a comforting blanket over your body. You feel your shoulders relax, your limbs growing heavy. You sink into the comfort of your bed once more. Your eyes drifted to a gentle close, listening as the sounds float in through your window.
Meanwhile, Suguru wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep at all.
On one hand, the bed is incredibly soft, and he's grateful to have a place to rest. On the other hand, he feels like he doesn't deserve it. He's used to sleeping on much stiffer, less comfortable mattresses, and the idea of sleeping on anything this heavenly? It feels almost wrong.
He couldn't shake off the thought that he should sleep on the floor or something. He didn't deserve to be given this kind of thing, to be surrounded by all this. It was a feeling of guilt and inadequacy, that he wasn't good enough.
Slowly, Satoru's violin fills the house with a sweet, muffled song. Suguru sits on his bed, leaning his head back against the headboard. His eyes close, and his expression falls into one of complete relaxation.
A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and he hums along with the tune, lost in the rhythm. The sweet song washes away the thoughts plaguing his mind, helping him to find a sense of peace.
He was so tired. Maybe he could fall asleep after all.
chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)
taglist: @keira80808
#satosugu x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojou satoru x reader#getou suguru x reader#jjk satoru#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#getou suguru x you#geto suguru#suguru#satosugu#stsg#stsg x reader#satoru x suguru#polyamory#poly satosugu#ao3 fanfic#multple chapter series
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maybe it means nothing, but...
Word Count: 644
Characters: Reverie (Arisen), Rann (Pawn)
AO3: (link)
smh at pawns walking all the time. Reverie is sick of it, too. important to mention though: no other pawns were neglected in the making of this fic, it's just the two of them traveling. ^^
“You aren’t truly going to walk the entire way, are you?” Reverie asked, lips pursed in a pout. She sat on her knees on the oxcarts bench, elbows tucked against the railing beneath her chin to face him as he walked alongside.
“I am quite all right, you needn’t worry for me, master.” Came Rann’s answer, head tucked in a subtle bow. “This way, I shall be better prepared to dispatch any threats that may come our way. You,” he moved his eyes towards her, “ought to rest.”
Her cheeks puffed up a little more, brow furrowing. She was good at fighting a pout, but this time she was sorely losing.
“There are guards hired for that exact purpose, besides it’s not as if I’ll sleep through all the shouting.” The last part she said in a lower voice, rolling her eyes with a sideward glance at the cart driver.
“And more importantly,” her gaze swept back over to him, “You should also get some rest. Being well-rested would serve me better than exhausting yourself unnecessarily, don’t you think?”
Sometimes the only way to win him over was with a bit of logic.
“Please?” And a bit of pouting. She batted her eyelashes.
Rann took a moment to look sufficiently flabbergasted, never knowing quite what to make of the twisted-up knots in his stomach when she looked at him like that. But at last he shook his head and relented.
“Very well… If you insist.”
"I do." She said with a nod, turning back around in her seat and looking quite pleased with herself.
He slowed his stride to move up along the back of the cart, climbing on and taking a spot beside her - and feeling awkward every step of the way. It felt as though the guards watched him every step of the way, and he felt a pang of self-conscious guilt as he sat.
A feeling that was, however, quickly swept away by surprise as Reverie scooted closer to him.
“Ahh, I knew it.” Smiling wide with eyes shut, she looked all-too-much like the cat that had caught the canary, while she leaned to rest her head against his shoulder. “You’re the perfect height.”
Exhaling slowly, he took note of the feeling not unlike ‘relief’ that flowed through him; such ease and simple joy. There were times he noticed, very rarely, when she would say something to deflect from her embarrassment - times when her face glowed a warm red, as it did now.
It’d have been easy to play along with her remark, or perhaps even to tease her, and feign offense at ‘being used’. But instead he leaned towards her slightly, raising a hand to brush a stray strand of hair back from her face.
“If you wanted me closer, you needed only to say so.” He told her quietly, a warmth thrumming in his breast.
Her eyes shot open briefly with a look of shock at being so openly caught, but she quickly squeezed them shut again and pressed the side of her head into his shoulder more. The red in her cheeks had spread to the tips of her ears.
“I’ll… keep that in mind…” She mumbled, and he simply hummed in approval.
It was not too much longer before the embarrassed tension in her shoulders began to melt, and her breathing slowed to a sleepy rhythm he was familiar with. For a long while he watched her; the curl of her eyelashes, the subtle part of her lips - the strand of hair that rebelled time and time again.
Then, for a while he watched the skies and the land move around them. He took note of the guards, finding their watchfulness of their surroundings to be satisfactory. And then, at last, he tilted his head to rest atop hers, and let himself drift to gentle slumber.
The title comes from the song 'Recessional' by Vienna Teng and the lyrics go:
In the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder
Hair falling forward, mouth all askew
Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead:
"Passengers missing, we're looking for you."
And she dreams through the noise, her weight against me
Face pressed into the corduroy grooves
Maybe it means nothing, maybe it means nothing
Maybe it means nothing, but I'm afraid to move
#dragon's dogma 2#dd2#arisen x pawn#crow's writing.#oc: reverie (arisen)#oc: rann (pawn)#aes. reverie & rann#divider by cafekitsune
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Hello! Can I ask for gallavich + 47? Thank you :)
Hi!! I too am fueled by spite so this was a very fun prompt to fill.
47. ...out of spite
Mickey only hears the conversation by accident.
It’s early. Way too fucking early to be awake, but he’d reached up to grab at Ian’s big warm arm and his fingers had met nothing but cold empty sheets and the jolt of panic he’d felt had been enough to have him stumbling up and out and down the hall.
The panic is receding a bit now, with Ian’s voice floating up the stairs. There’s other noises, too. The coffee maker burbling, dishes clinking, the fridge rattling as it’s opened and closed, but all Mickey is focused on is ian ian ian.
The panic ebbs out to a low grade hum. It never goes away completely. Probably never will.
Mickey sighs, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand, the other one still clutching the stair railing so hard his knuckles are white.
Slowly, the actual words Ian’s saying start to filter through.
“–is that supposed to mean? Of course he’s good for me. He’s the only reason I came back in the first place!”
There’s the sound of someone slurping obnoxiously. Probably Lip drinking his fucking coffee. He always slurps when he drinks coffee. “He’s also the reason you left, so.”
“Fuck off, Lip.”
“Seriously?” Fiona scoffs, faucet squeaking as she shuts off the water, “That’s why you disappeared out of the fucking blue?”
Oh.
Mickey twists his lips. Debates just turning around and going back to sleep. It’s too fucking early for this shit.
“I left for a lot of reasons, okay?”
“Ian. Sweetcheeks. I’m just worried about you. We’re all worried about you–”
“Well, maybe everyone should be more worried about you.”
“Ian!”
“He’s got a point.”
“Who’s fucking side are you on, Lip?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side. Jesus.” Another obnoxious slurp. “And keep your fucking voices down, you’re gonna wake up the kids.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Ian snarks, “Liam hasn’t been sleeping very well. Wonder why that is.”
“Ian. Please. I just want what’s best for you.”
“Mickey is what’s best for me.”
“Seriously?” Fiona laughs, and Mickey would probably be more offended if he hadn’t nearly blurted out the same thing.
He swipes at his nose. Shoots a longing glance down the hall behind him, towards his little makeshift nest on the floor made of blankets and pillows that smell like Ian. Shoots a longing glance down the stairs in front of him, towards Ian. He sighs again. Sits on the top step. Tunes back into Fiona’s tirade.
“He’s a thug–”
“–you just got out of jail.”
“He’s a highschool drop-out–”
“–we’re all highschool dropouts.”
“He’s a Milkovich–”
“–oh, because being a Gallagher is so much better?”
“He can barely even stand to touch you–”
“–trust me, he touches me plenty.”
“In private,” Fiona presses, pitching her voice louder over the sound of Lip snorting and nearly choking to death on his coffee. “The moment you guys are around other people he acts like you’re radioactive fucking waste.”
“Jesus, Fi, can you blame him for not wanting people to find out–?”
“But we already know! He knows that we know. And he knows damn well that Gallaghers don’t snitch.”
Mickey gnaws on his lower lip, eagerly awaiting Ian’s snarky comeback.
It never comes.
“Ian, sweetie,” Fiona says, voice soft again, “I’m just worried you’re getting too attached.”
Say something.
“I’m– Ian, I’m sorry, but I think you're reading signs you hope are there, instead of the signs that actually are there.”
C’mon, Ian, fucking say something.
“I just… don’t think he’s as into you as you're into him.”
Ian finally says something.
“Yeah,” he says.
Mickey blinks. His mouth drops open. His brows scrunch together.
“I really am sorry, sweetheart–”
“No, it’s.” There’s the sound of Ian taking in a shuddery breath, followed by a deep sigh. “You might be right.”
Jesus fucking christ.
Mickey hauls himself up. Stomps down the stairs. Hears Lip mutter ‘oh shit’ before he’s even in view.
By the time Mickey reaches the base of the stairs they’re all looking at him with wide eyes. Lip sitting at the table, Fiona standing by the sink, Ian leaning against the fridge.
“Mickey!” Ian says, voice painfully faux-cheery, “I– um, good morning, when did you wake u–”
“Shut up,” Mikey bites out. He plants himself right in front of Ian. Jabs a finger hard against his chest. “You must be the stupidest goddamn fucker on the planet.”
Ian’s strained smile drops.
“Hey!” Fiona protests, but Mickey ignores her.
He forcefully reminds himself of what happened the last time he was too much of a fucking coward. Swallows down the nerves dread don’t bubbling up his throat and fizzing through his veins.
His hands are shaking, just a bit.
He brings them up, uses one to shove Ian back against the fridge and the other to fist in Ian’s hair, yanks down his head enough so Mickey doesn’t have to go up on his fucking tippytoes like some bitch.
Ian makes this surprised little sound when their lips collide. Which actually works out great, because it gives Mickey the opportunity to shove his tongue into his mouth.
Mickey can feel the tension seeping out of Ian. That shocked little noise morphs into a deep groan. Ian’s big hands clamp down on Mickey’s hips hard enough to bruise.
“Woah, okay, that is way more than I need to see,” Lip announces, punctuated by the sound of his chair scraping harshly against the floor. “I’m gonna go ahead and finish my coffee somewhere else. Preferably somewhere very far away.”
Mickey grins into the kiss. Relishes in momentary victory. Two down, one to go.
He pulls back, their lips making a positively indecent sound as they part. Mickey huffs when Ian tries to trail after him. Uses the grip on his hair to keep him at bay.
Mickey turns his head just enough to cock a pointed brow at Fiona. “That enough touching for you? Or should I go all out and bend over the kitchen table for him?”
Ian makes a strangled sound. His hands spasm on Mickey’s hips. He yanks Mickey closer, so Mickey can better appreciate the way he’s grown hard as a rock, the way his dick is pressing perfectly up against Mickey’s own.
Fiona rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air in defeat. “Okay, alright, you’ve made your point.” She brushes past them. Pauses just before disappearing up the stairs to look back at them with a solemn, serious expression. Locks eyes with Mickey. “I really, genuinely hope I’m wrong about you.”
Mickey swallows hard. Stares after her as she retreats.
He hopes so, too.
His grip on Ian tightens, then loosens. Ian seizes the opportunity to surge forward and latch onto Mickey’s neck like a fucking leech.
“Jesus, firecrotch,” Mickey hisses.
Ian hums. Smears a smile against Mickey’s skin. Nips at Mickey’s ear. “So…” he hedges, grinding their hips together again, “How serous were you about letting me fuck you on the kitchen table?”
Fuck.
Maybe Mickey is a bad influence on Ian afterall.
send me a number~
#prompt games#gallavich#my scribblings#this happened in canon i know it did i was there i was watching them through the window#fun and only vaguely related mechy fact: i ONLY passed 7th grade out of spite. i was absolutely going to be held back a year#then one of my teachers made a comment about me being dumb the day before final exams and when i tell you i ACED that shit#highest score in the class#only missed ONE question and it was because i filled in the wrong bubble on the scantron#very shameless coded imo#spite is such an amazing motivator
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She’s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4
lando norris x webber!reader
summary: Quali day in Melbourne also means some secrets are being spilled…
part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 3
The flight to Melbourne was only about three hours. Three hours that Daniel spent sleeping while Lando and you talked about god and the world.
He told you a lot about his family, his parents and siblings and his two little nieces. Your heart swelled a little at the pictures of him holding the two girls on vacation last summer.
You glanced over at Daniel and then turned your gaze to the British boy next to you.
"So, I was thinking-"
"So, about today morning-"
The two of you started at the same time, chuckling and looking down. "You go first", you quickly said, wanting to hear what Lando had to say first.
"About this morning, I… I really like you. I feel like I know you, which is pretty strange considering the fact we haven’t known each other that long. But I wanna get to know you more because… I really like you", he spoke, shyly glancing at you, only to find you smiling at him.
"I would love that, Lando", you smiled, reaching to grab his hand and interwind your fingers. "Can we please keep it low when people are around though? Because I really need to tell Oscar first before he finds out from stupid gossip pages and I don’t think his home race is the place to tell him that I’m dating his teammate", you chuckled at the last sentence.
Lando nodded in understanding and pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles lightly. "That’s totally fine by me", he smiled, dropping your interlaced hands back into your lap.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"What on earth are you doing here??", your best friend called when he spotted you lingering in the back of the Mclaren garage. He quickly signaled his engineer that he’d be back shortly before walking over to you.
"You’re not even wearing any sort of Red Bull colour", Oscar stated after he looked you over once, mustering the white summer dress and lack of Red Bull hat.
"C’mon, I can’t go ‘round parading Red Bull as an Australian at the Australian Grand Prix, especially not when my best friend who’s also Australian drives for a different team", you chuckled, your eyes finding Lando’s for a second who still stood in front of the computer, looking at data along with his engineer. He sent you one of his adorable little smiles before shifting his attention back to work.
"I think this is honestly the first time you’ve ever stood inside here for more than 5 seconds and without me forcing you", Oscar chuckled.
Before Oscar could drag you to his side of the garage, Lando showed up behind him, a wide grin on his face.
"And who do we have here, Red Bull’s princess in papaya", he smirked. Your smile immediately brightening at the sound of his voice. "Well we’re not as far as me actually being IN papaya, I’m colour neutral today", you replied, making Lando raise his eyebrows before pulling his Mclaren hat off and pushing it down on your hair in a quick motion.
"Heyy!", you protested with a giggle and tried to slap his arm away. "That looks way better, wouldn’t you say Oscar?", the brit laughed and turned to his teammate, whose invisible question mark was getting bigger and bigger.
Thankfully his race engineer called him back before he could pose any of his million questions. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t still keep his eyes on the two of you, catching the gentle squeeze Lando gave your hand, that held on longer than necessary.
📍Melbourne, Australia
tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, ybsf
yn.adams: Feels great to be back in Australia and especially at Albert Park!! Quali up next🏎️
comments:
landonorris: Loads of papaya right here🧡
> landonorris: Even a papaya sunset🤭
> fan: How did he convert her over to McLaren???
> fan: That d must me hella good if she’s willing to change teams…
oscarpiastri: How am I only posted once???
> fan: Oscar asking the important questions!!
> fan: Fr tho how did she post Lando 3x??
danielricciardo: I’m sorry, is that papaya I see there??
kellypiquet: You look absolutely gorgeous!!
> yn.adams: Luv uuuu
ybsf: THE BEACH PICTURE!!
liked by landonorris
fan: That’s a lot of papaya for you, miss🤨
fan: Posting Lando 3x in one post…
fan: Daniel with the truck LMAOOO
fan: Not a single photo from the Red Bull/RB garange🫣
> fan: Lando be turning her into a Mclaren fan
load more comments…
*~**~*
Your heart swelled with pride when you saw Lando jump up to P4 on the leader board, your smile just slightly getting bigger. You clapped your hands a few times, celebrating Max’s pole with the other crew members but secretly also Lando’s good starting position for the race tomorrow.
You quietly hushed out of the garage to walk down the paddock to Mclaren, waiting for Lando to arrive.
"Heyy!", he called with a laugh. You giggled and opened your arms for him. His curls were slightly damp from the sweat but you pushed your fingers through them anyway as his arms wrapped around your waist.
"I’m proud of you!", you muttered for only him to hear and felt him smile and squeezed your hip. "Thank you", he smiled and pulled back.
"You wanna come inside?", Lando then asked, nodding towards the papaya hospitality. You hesitated for a second but nodded and resisted the urge to grab the driver’s hand.
He smiled for a few pictures and waved at fans before opening the door for you.
"Lando, debrief is at 6", Jon reminded Lando before said boy grabbed your hand and dragged you towards his driver room.
He pushed the door shut behind you and unzipped his orange race suit, the black fireproof coming to show.
"These are so hot", you muttered, letting your intrusive thoughts take over as you trailed your fingers along his chest. Lando chuckled and pulled you closer by the waist. "You wanna take ‘em off?", he joked teasingly but the glint in his eyes told you he really wouldn’t mind if you did.
You chuckled and pulled his lips on yours, his tongue finding its way into your mouth shortly after. Lando pushed you back until the back of your knees hit the couch and he let you down on his carefully, all while letting his hands roam up and down your body.
You whined when he sucked the gentle skin on your neck, his hand coming to rest on the back of your thigh. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him back up so your lips could touch again.
"Lando, have you seen- oh wow, that’s why you didn’t come to congratulate me!"
The door opened, making you push Lando away from you and scrambling up to sit straight on the couch.
Oscar stood in the doorway, putting his hands on his hips. "Respect, mate. I didn’t think you’d be brave enough", he said, turning his gaze to Lando.
You squeezed your eyes shut, praying that your best friend would keep his mouth shut.
"Huh?", Lando asked, a confused expression gracing his face. "Just because Mark has always been against his daughter dating drivers, I mean I tried when I first met her but respect mate", Oscar kept talking, now crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Mark?", Lando questioned, his confusion growing as the seconds passed. You silently begged Oscar to finally quit talking but he didn’t catch on.
"Mark, her dad? Mark Webber", Oscar explained, now confused as well.
"Your dad is Mark Webber?", Lando called, turning his head to you.
Just then your phone chimed with a new message.
dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?
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let me keep you company
a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3
wc: 5.1k whoops
synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.
For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.
You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.
Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.
But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.
You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.
Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.
Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.
All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.
And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.
But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.
You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.
But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.
One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—
A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.
Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.
"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.
Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.
"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.
Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"
A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.
You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.
"Not... much." You answer honestly.
There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.
He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."
You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.
"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.
Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.
It's going to be a long two months.
—
As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.
Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.
There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.
Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.
Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.
Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.
Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.
You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)
Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?
As if, you snort to yourself.
You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.
As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.
"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"
You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."
Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"
"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.
Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—
"You did not ask for a ride this morning."
Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.
"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."
You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.
"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.
His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."
You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.
"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.
Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.
You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.
You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.
"I'll be... going this way."
Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.
"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.
He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."
When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.
“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.
You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.
Guess you have company.
—
Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.
Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.
And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.
The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.
In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.
“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.
Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.
“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”
It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.
Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.
The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.
You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.
When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.
The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.
"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."
The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.
You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—
"Y/n."
Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.
"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."
"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.
It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.
Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.
Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.
Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.
"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."
Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.
"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.
Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.
You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.
"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.
It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.
"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.
The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.
Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.
"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.
You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.
You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.
The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.
By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.
That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.
"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"
Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.
"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."
You hmph. "Maybe I will."
You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.
"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."
Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."
Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"
You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.
"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"
"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"
The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.
"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.
You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"
Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?
"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."
And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.
Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.
—
It continues like that for the rest of the week.
Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.
The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.
It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.
Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.
As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.
"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.
"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.
"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.
"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."
Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."
You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”
You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.
"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."
"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.
The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.
Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.
"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.
Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.
"Go on then," She urges you.
For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.
You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."
He's waiting by the time you get there.
Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.
Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.
"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?
Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.
"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.
You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.
"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."
You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.
Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.
"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."
"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"
He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.
This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.
"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.
Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.
He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.
Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.
Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.
Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.
#YIPPEE! written in like... 3 days#no editing less go#love it or leave it#a break from all the doom and gloom of wtssf#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger x reader#azriel x you#acotar fanfiction#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger x you#sloane writes
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Choso x fem!reader
cw: smut, creampies
Choso loves to cum inside you. If you asked him, he would probably say that it’s also one of his favourite things to do of all time.
And when Choso cums inside you is nasty. He has you in all positions: missionary, lotus, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl…
Everyone is aware that he also loves experimenting new positions, and that’s because he wants to find different way in which he can cum inside you.
But he loves to take you in doggy style, kneeling behind you while you do that beautiful arch with your back. He doesn’t really like that he can’t see your face and that’s why he makes you turn your head to the side on the pillows, and wants to hear you scream. For him, in a way your moans and cries compensate for the fact that he can’t clearly look at your face.
He becomes a madman when he takes you from behind. He holds your hips and ruts inside you so fast, that after slipping too many times in bed and hitting your head against the headboard, now you prefer to rest your head down on the bed and let him literally fold you in half.
When he has you in this position it’s like he transforms into another person. His gaze is fixed on your ass rippling with his hard thrusts, sometimes glancing up at your head when he hears a particular pornographic moan, signalling that you liked what he just did. That makes him go impossibly harder and faster.
He likes to push you back on him, so hard that sometimes it happens that he has bruises on his hips. But he doesn’t care; he wants to cum inside you. And that’s what he does, every time.
Choso doesn’t last long, but poor boy, it’s because your cunt is squeezing him so hard to the point that it’s difficult to move inside of you. His big fat cock drills into you and your pussy sucks him inside, as if she wanted to keep him nestled inside forever.
So when his tip repeatedly bumps against your sweet spot and your walls squeeze him hard, he can’t help but cum. He stills inside you deep, and keeps thrusting until the last waves of his orgasm don’t wear off. And when he pulls back, his gaze is fixed on the cum oozing out of you. It’s thick and pearly white, and comes out of you in fat globes.
But Choso’s peculiarity is that his cock is still hard even after he came so much. So when he comes out of his trance, he pounds inside of you again. And he comes shortly after, because he is getting overstimulated and pussy drunk. When he cums again, it makes you giggle and you glance back at him with a smile. You see Choso’s fucked out face, while he slowly pulls out again and looks down at your pussy, and your twitching hole from where his cum just got out like a fountain. It was so much. It makes you moan and shake your ass for him.
Choso moans at the sight and immediately thrusts back inside of you, biting his lower lip because he feels himself already on the brink. Now he is really overstimulating himself so, if you happen to look back, you would see him tearing up. But he doesn’t stop and when he comes this time, is even more than last time.
You wonder how is that possible, because who has this much cum inside of them? Well, guess that Choso has. When he pulls away again, your pussy is swollen, and your hole is gaping open, and his cum comes out slowly from you and ends up on the bed under you.
Choso looks down and there is a pool of his cum, which make his hips twitch at the sight. It’s so much. Too much of his thick cum, like a puddle.
He moans your name and reaches up to spread his cum around your velvety pussy. He loves to spread it around, finger it back inside, rub it against your throbbing clit and on your ass cheeks. He is so messy.
He rubs your clit and you moan at the feeling, arching your back and trying to grind against his hand, but he removes it. Before you can whine at the loss, he leans down and licks a fat stripe along your pussy. You scream at the feeling.
He doesn’t let you cum yet, and he is quick to piston his cock back inside you for the last time. He grabs your ass harshly and pulls you back against him, and a few seconds later, he is coming again inside of you.
When he pulls back and observes the mess he did, his cum is slowly coming out of your pretty cunt which can’t stop twitching as if she is beckoning him to get back inside.
But his cock is flaccid and soft against his thigh, and he doesn’t think he can’t have another one.
He leans back, observing satisfied the mess he did and, when you ask him if he is satisfied, he nods sleepily. You smile at the sight of him, looking pussy drunk behind you, eyes half lidded, hair sticking at his forehead and his strong muscular body covered in sweat. He is fucking handsome.
Before you can reach to him behind you, he is quick to latch his mouth to your pussy and suck his cum from your hole. So yeah, Choso loves to cum inside you and… after he is done, to give your cunt all the attention she deserves.
I’m horny and I need Choso
(m.list)
#choso#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#choso fluff#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso kamo#choso smut#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso x reader#choso x female reader#jjk x plus size reader#𐙚
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you satisfy the urge to see Ghost with little babies and simultaneously make me want more of him with little babies
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic
Simon Riley/female reader
He sleeps like the dead on and off for the almost three days.
Uninterrupted, undisturbed, face buried in a pillow, television cranked as loud as he can get away with, the noise one of the only things capable of lulling him to sleep and keeping him under when he’s not on an op or in an active engagement zone. He gets up to eat, use the bathroom or shower, climb the four floors to the roof to smoke, but otherwise, he sleeps. He eats, and sleeps, and repeats this very simple routine, as he always does when he’s here, until it’s interrupted one night, by the tap of a hesitant knock on his door.
The sound freezes his blood, every nerve ending in his body lighting up in alert, muscles priming for an offensive position. He finds the one of many guns stashed in the flat on his way to open the door, mask slipping over his face, holding the weapon tucked carefully behind his body as he looks through the peephole to find… you. The girl from the roof, the baby, Emmaline, in your arms, your eyes nervously darting down the hallway before looking back to his door expectantly. Shit.
“I’m sorry.” You rush out immediately when he opens it, peering up at him with exhausted eyes. Emma is against your chest, and one of your hands cradles her head, the other under her bum, while you bounce her up and down while also rocking back and forth. “I don’t mean to be a pain in the arse but, is there any way I can ask you to turn your TV volume down a bit?” You try to smile but it straightens into a grimace and then your eyes dart to the ground before looking back up at him. “We uh, share a wall.” You tilt your head to the left, to the unit next to his and his eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to bother you, I’m not trying to be that neighbor but-“ Jesus Christ. You share a wall with him? His mind drifts to an image of you asleep in your bed, tucked up under your covers all sweet, lashes laying delicately on your cheeks.
“Of course. It’s not a bother.” The baby cries in response, a broken wail making her lower lip tremble and you pat her back soothingly until she quiets, little hiccups coming from her mouth while she rubs her face into your shirt.
“Thank you.” You’re still bouncing, still swaying, and he’s mystified, watching you stroke a gentle finger through her fine curls. She yawns sleepily against you, and the tension leaks from your body a bit, spine slumping slightly, shoulders relaxing a notch. You look down at her, checking for something he doesn’t understand, before raising your radiant, tired face back up to his. He really, really wishes he wasn’t holding a handgun behind his back right now. “They told me, when I rented… that you weren’t around much. I thought it’d be a good fit since…” you gesture with an eyebrow towards Emmaline, and he nods.
“I travel for work.” His voice sounds more raspy than normal, a byproduct of too much sleep, something you look like you’d probably kill to have. Fuck. He’s been blasting his television while you’ve been up with a screaming baby for two bleedin’ days.
“Right, well I hope we won’t be too noisy for you, when you are home.” A door slams on third floor above the two of you, the bang of it swinging shut too loud and you tense, something bleak flickering across your face before it’s chased away with a half-forced smile. “Anyway… thanks, again.”
“Of course.” He repeats it, like it’s obvious, and then just as you turn away, he remembers something: “I’m Simon.” You glance back at him, timid smile tugging at your lips, your own name falling from your mouth like you’re giving him a gift.
“Oh, and you know Emmaline already.” You lightly tease, and he nods, his own lips lifting in an almost smile behind the mask in response.
#peaches asks#peaches writes#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#light on
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babys first flight
words: 1.3k
warnings: flying, dad!rafe, mom!reader, breastfeeding, dude briefly being rude about your baby crying
a/n: i guess this could be a prequel to pink unicorn but honestly i just wanted to use the same name for the baby again lol
rafe sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he looks at the flight board. you can tell from the defeated look on his face as he walks back over to you that your flight is delayed.
“two hours.” he states, sitting down next to you. you sigh just as deeply as your husband, looking at your sleeping daughter in your arms.
“i think i should wake her up. that way she falls asleep on the plane.” you say, running your finger over rosie’s cheek, her skin soft and flushed pink as she naps.
“yeah.” rafe nods. “whatever you think is best.” rafe defaults often to you, letting you guide the way through raising your daughter. he has experience with his two younger sisters, but you grew up in an even bigger family and often helped out with the babies.
you feel bad having to wake rosie up, especially when she’s asleep during her usual naptime. “wake up, babygirl.” you coo, pressing kisses to her cheeks until her eyes open up, lips instantly turning into a pout.
“its okay!” you stretch a smile over your face. “its okay, rosie!” your soft tone stops her tears, but her pout remains. you jiggle her favorite toy in front of her. your daughter is only three months old and still working on her grip, so you manage to entertain her by placing the toy in her hand every time she drops it.
“here, let me take her.” rafe reaches out. “you stretch your legs and take a break.”
you glance at the clock. still an hour and a half until you can get on your plane. its a short flight, from north carolina to the bahamas for a much needed vacation, deciding to spend the entire summer at your second home while rafe has paternity time away from work.
“gonna use the bathroom.” you press a kiss to rafes cheek, then rosies. “be right back.”
you don’t hurry as you walk around the airport, glad that you’re booked in first class and can use the lounge as the bustling sounds of the airport would surely annoy rosie.
you use the bathroom and get a coffee for rafe, deciding to ditch the decaf and get a mocha for yourself. while you know its generally safe to drink coffee while breastfeeding, you still try to stay away from it, but on days like today, you certainly need it.
“here ya go.” you hand the coffee to your husband after making your way back to the waiting area.
“oh god, thank you.” rafe lets out a moan as he tips the cup back, the warm liquid filling his mouth. he bounces rosie gently on his knee to keep her eyes open.
“would we be terrible parents if i turned on something on my phone for her to watch?” you pout, trying hard to keep her away from screens, but sometimes you just need something to distract her.
“we absolutely would not but if it makes you feel better, i’ll use my phone.” rafe pulls it out of his pocket, transferring rosie easily back into your arms. you cradle her in a way that still allows her to look at the phone screen, her eyes glancing between rafes face cooing at her and the dancing fruits and vegetables.
“shes loving this.” rafe laughs when rosie giggles, her plump cheeks stretching. rosie just started laughing last week, and rafe is still the only one who can get it out of her, although she smiles at you constantly since she first developed the muscles.
“now boarding first class.” the announcer calls out, the hour flying by with rosie entertained.
“she just started looking tired too.” rafe says, taking your carry ons in his hands as you place rosie into her sling, deciding to babywear her until you’re all settled in your seats and can put her in the carseat that rafe also manages to carry.
“welcome aboard.” the flight attendant smiles at you, leading you towards your seats. three all in a row. rafe works quickly to get everything set, placing rosies carseat in the middle seat.
“babys first flight!” you coo to her, hoping to keep her awake through boarding so she will hopefully sleep the entire two hour flight.
“here, i got her.” rafe places her in the carseat once its all strapped down, waiting to do up her buckle until the plane actually takes off.
you both talk partially to her and partially to each other to keep her eyes open, even occasionally giving her tummy little tickles to keep her droopy eyes from closing completely.
while the flight attendant does the safety demonstration, you do up rosie’s buckles. she’s asleep before the plane even begins to move, and you’re surprised when she doesn’t even startle during take off. you reach over to hold rafes hand until you’re steady in the air, hating the rising feeling in your stomach.
“doing good baby?” rafe asks, swiping his thumb over the back of your hand.
you take a deep breath. “yeah, yeah.” looking at rosie and your husband helps sooth the little bit of nerves you have about flying.
the flight goes smoothly until halfway to the bahamas, rosie suddenly startles away with a cry.
“ohhh, its okay baby.” you coo to her, able to recognise from her cry alone that she’s simply hungry.
“oh god, will you shut that baby up?” a man behind you groans before you can even undo her buckles to get her out of her seat.
“what did you say about my daughter?” rafe stands up, glaring as you just try to quiet rosie, pulling her into her lap while you search for a blanket to cover yourself with.
“you heard me! i didn’t pay for first class seats to listen to a crying baby!” the man grunts.
“you’re lucky we’re on a plane or-” rafe begins, until you hiss out his name. “stop it, let the flight attendants handle it.”
rafe sees the stress on your face, nodding as he grabs you a thin blanket, draping it over your shoulder while you adjust your shirt to feed rosie, her cries quieting as she latches onto your nipple.
“sir, that is not appropriate behavior for our airline-” the flight attendant begins to lecture the man behind you, clearly a mom herself.
“it’s okay.” you tell rafe as he turns his shoulder to glare at the man. you rub your hand over his cheek just like you would to rosie until he’s calm.
“dudes an asshole.” rafe grunts out, but his tone is softer now, leaning across rosies car seat to press a kiss to your cheek. he pulls the blanket away slightly so he can look down at your daughter, happily nursing.
“she’s so perfect.” he sighs, glad he has such a well behaved baby for her first flight.
you both settle into your seats as rosie finishes, clearly just needing her tummy to be full before going right back to sleep. you decide to keep her in your arms until the plane begins to descend.
“i got her.” rafe pushes your hands away to do up her seat belts. he knows how much of a stress pregnancy and breastfeeding is on you, so he tries to do absolutely everything he can, even naming himself the sole diaper changer.
you hold rafes hand again as the plane descends, letting out a sigh of relief when the wheels make smooth contact with the runway.
--
“this was absolutely worth the pain of the flight.” you smile to rafe, resting your head on his shoulder as rosie lays on the towel in front of you, body completely shaded by a pink umbrella.
you look out onto the ocean, waves lightly lapping against the pale yellow sand.
“couldn’t agree more.” rafe hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
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#this may be very boring for some of yall#BUT I LOVE DAD!RAFE EVEN WHEN ITS DAD!RAFE LIKE DOING SOMETHING MUNDANE#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluff#obx fluff#outer banks fluff#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron imagine#dad!rafe#dad!rafe cameron
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can you write anything with bau! reader x spencer, who are expecting a baby🥺 i love dad spencer sm🫶🏻
Yes omg dad!Spencer he's my favorite! Hope you like this 🫶❤️
Spencer Reid x reader
Warnings: reader a little upset (Spence makes her feel better tho), pregnancy (duh), flufffffff, short and sweet, not proofread, wordcount: 582
You try your best to focus on the task at hand, the stack of paperwork you had been putting off all week, emails on top of emails gathering in your computer's inbox, but the kicks of the baby growing inside you keep your mind elsewhere. Her little, still growing, feet kick into your ribs harshly making any position you try to move into uncomfortable, she just can't seem to keep still today; absolutely restless.
If you were home you might whine to your husband, Spencer, maybe even cry out of frustration but being surrounded by coworkers keeps you from doing both just as much as the baby keeps you from work.
Spencer watches as you rest your left hand on top of your bump -your thumb moving gently back and forth against the fabric of your top- and he smiles at the ring adorned on your finger, but when he takes notice of the slight discomfort etched onto your face his grin quickly dissipates. Your brows are drawn together in what seems to be annoyance, your eyes are closed, and your head is tipped back as you swivel your desk chair back and forth in an attempt to calm yourself and your little one.
you can feel Spencer's eyes raking your figure -he's always been able to read you just as quickly as he can read books- and you keep your eyes shut to avoid his worried glance despite your current need for his safeguard. You don't want him to think you're dramatic, that maybe you're being annoying despite knowing he would never think something like that of you and never has.
One of your eyes cracks open to glance at him and you hope the quick movement of you swiveling in your chair will keep him from noticing your peeking, but of course, he's far too perceptive to not detect your gaze. His head cocks to the side in question, "Are you alright," he asks.
You close your eye again and bring your hands to rub at your face, the tips of your cold fingers digging into your eyes, you're starting to get a headache.
Without warning two large hands land on your shoulders, fingers poke and prod at your skin in a way that makes you sigh in relief. When you tilt your head back -eyes still closed- your husband frowns at you, "I wish you'd tell me when your not feeling good."
you almost don't respond the movement of his fingers gently gliding to your hair and scratching at your scalp makes your bottom lip quiver slightly. "I'm okay." Your voice breaks when you speak and Spencer doesn't comment on it, he doesn't want to make you actually cry by pointing it out, instead he moves only one of his also cold hands down the slope of your heated cheeks and rest it there, a gentle remind that he's here for you.
"You look pretty, do you know that," he moves his head closer to your ear to whisper to you, "beautiful."
That finally makes your eyes snap open and he's grinning at you again. Groaning at how his teasing worked to get you looking at him, you tilt your head and lay a kiss on the palm of his hand, "your child is restless," You complain to him, "she gets it from you."
"I'm sorry." His words are sickeningly genuine, they make you smile.
"Its okay baby, I still love you."
He responds to your tease, "You better."
#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds drabble#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x bau!reader
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yuki and reader scissoring while choso begs to be in the middle ,,, vegas do you see the vision 🗣️🗣️🗣️
❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso being the third wheel between you & yuki
warnings. fem! reader, cucking, scissoring, praise, dirty talk, needy choso, mdni.
“such a pretty girl,” she’d purr in a soft voice—her hand gripping against your heel as she’s gradually rocking herself against you. you couldn’t suppress the sweet mewls and moans from your glossy lips even if you tried. your legs were all sprawled out and yuki’s on top of you—rubbing her clit against yours and it feels simply euphoric. “heh, gotta keep up with me angel,” she creates kiss trails near your heel. her pace had so much rhythm, you’re just slumped back against the bed with your mouth slightly dangling open. “mhm. fuck me back jus’ like that, thereeee we go.”
it was so much mobility of her hips, you bit your lip as your eyes roam all over her body—she’s grinding against you continuously and you let off a moan once her legs interlace with you further. her pussy jerks against yours and you whimper out a sweet, “y—yuki, f-fuckkk.”
choso gulps, watching his two lovers bump clits in such a sensual way—his pout displays against his lips before he speaks in a needy tone, lowering his head towards the blond. “yuki, i want a turn too. you’re being s-stingy with her.”
“i told you to be a good boy ‘n wait, choso,” she murmurs, averting her eyes back towards you before silencing your syrupy sweet moans with a kiss. you’re out of breath, practically dragging your hands up her spine before pulling her closer towards the warmth of your body. you taste the remains of her favored lipgloss on your tongue before she departs, watching choso frown. “aw. just a few more minutes then you’ll get a turn, baby.”
“s—stop calling me that, yuki.” he mumbles, glancing down at you before softly strumming a thumb against your tummy.
“make me, pretty boy.” she jibes, giving him a quick wink before going back to kissing you.
“you’re . . you’re being a brat, yuki,” choso huffs out a cute irritated sigh. he leans close to give you a kiss. they’re both competing with you, solely on who can coat you with more kisses.
choso softly strums a thumb near the edge of your chin, pulling you closer into a deep kiss.
he tastes sweet . . sweeter than he’s ever been.
even though, yuki’s continuing to vigorously sway her hips against yours—your right arm hooks around her waist as she’s rutting back and forth, about to fall into a blissful spasm.
“i— i want you,” choso speaks between soft breaths, foreheads meeting against each other. the way he was trying to get between you both was so cute.
one kiss turns into two, then three, then four . .
a plethora of adoring pecks near your lips. when choso’s horny and needy, it’s adorable.
he literally can’t keep his hands to himself.
he allows his hands roam all over your body as yuki’s slowly lifts up your leg a tad bit higher.
with the angle she has, her sopping cunt resumes to clash against yours. the moist wet plops of squelches that escaped from the both of you were so lewd.
the entirety of the provocative scene taking place was simply downright dirty. the blonde woman starts to moan herself the second she feels a sudden rapture pool up inside her clenched abdomen.
“my . . my,” she squeaks, a sheepish smile going against her lips before she picks up her pace a bit more. her voice was teasing, a mere harmony to listen to.
she feels the slight twinge that lasts for only a second, it shifts into pleasure and you’re surely about to lose it. yuki pulls choso away from you before kissing you again for probably the umpteenth time. with a pout, he watches before not expecting yuki to bring him into a kiss also.
“oh you big baby,” she hums playfully, still grinding against you—with the obscene view, your eyes linger towards her chiseled abs that flex and tense with each jerk she creates forward. she’s unintentionally sexy, with a brief moment of her hips—you gaze as a few beads of sweat race down her stomach and she shoots you a sly grin. “if you wanted a kiss, choso all you had to do was ask.”
“y—yuki..” choso moans, melting into butter just from her coquettish actions.
her plump lips were so soft as they went against his, you felt your cunt twitch at watching them make out. choso doesn’t know what to do with his hands and she titters, grabbing his hands to place on her waist. still multitasking, she’s keeping up her rhythm at pulverizing her hips steady against you. so wet, the noises that squealed from your pussy rings throughout your ears and even reverbs across the entire room.
the both of you were close—substantially approaching that familiar unavoidable release. tips of your ears grew out to be so hot, your hand drags towards her ass to squeeze it and she giggles.
“aw,” she teases, pulling away from choso for a breath of fresh air. he’s so embarrassed—but he didn’t exactly want her to pull away. choso subtly licks his lips before averting his eyes back down toward you. the stimulation, you find your back starting to arch before feeling your climax arise at such a rapid speed. it was sporadic the way everything was happening at once. “kiss our girl while she cums, choso.”
“f— fine,” he stammers, and he’s trying to keep up his jealous grumbly facade but he’s clearly failing. he didn’t know who he wanted more—you or yuki. alas, it was choso, so more than likely he wanted you both. and he did, he leaned up close before lowering his head toward you. you heave, breaths becoming more and more heavy before he softly laps his tongue against the inner part of your neck. you moan from his sweet touch, feeling choso then start to coat the entire frame of your collarbone with nothing but kisses.
“s—so sweet,” he croons, starting to gingerly nibble against your skin. “let yuki make you cum, c’mon princess,” and he leans in to kiss near your lips, “mwah,” he coos, skimming a thumb against the crevices of your mouth before staring at you. his naturally drowsy stare, it was so loving. he was still needy, yet seeing you so close to your orgasm was enough to make him wanna please you even more. after all, your pleasure was always their pleasure. “pretty girl.”
“yuki i’m gonna c—cummm,” you’d huff out in irregular pants, feeling the familiar coil within you be on the very edge of snapping. your hand squeezes yuki’s wrist and she’s just as vocal as you. sweet voice honeyed with such smoothness that you could listen to her all day.
she moves choso aside, hearing him grumble cutely before she kisses you again this time, every few seconds she breaks away before whispering, “give it to me baby,” and soft cacophonies along the sides of, “come on. make a mess all on my pussy.”
her words, it was filled with such dirtiness. she stares into your eyes, your hands merely dragging her hips back and forth before you end up cumming. yuki matches your peak, a gasp rippling from her lips before she slows her thrusts down.
“fuckkkk, sweetheart,” she moans, still grinding against you but she slows down—reaching a hand between your legs to spread your swollen lips open. she runs a thumb down your slit, watching you twitch and spasm before he exhales deeply. yuki giggles, feeling choso’s chin rests against her shoulder. he was done being patient, and he wanted attention too. “fine, fine. so impatient.”
she gets off of you and you’re catching your breath before choso sits you up. he peppers a few sweet kisses near your neck before whining.
“waited so long,” he shakily sighs. as you run a hand down his chiseled chest, he gets up between you and your nude body. as he inches closer, that’s when you feel it. choso’s hardened boner that poked through his shorts, he was embarrassed—but he wanted you so bad. mwah, another kiss presses against your forehead before he spreads your legs, softly rubbing against your sensitive entrance. “now it’s m-my turn, princess. just lie back ‘n let me do everything o—okay?”
#★vegasbaby.#choso x reader#choso smut#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#yuki smut#jujutsu kaisen yuki#yuki tsukumo#yuki jjk#tsukumo yuki#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk fic#anime smut#female reader
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My Sun, My Star
A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.
Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader
Words: 6756
Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??
Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
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Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat.
You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.
“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him.
“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup.
“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.”
You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.
‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’ you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send.
“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”
You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held.
“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.
Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner.
----
Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation.
“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?”
“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again.
“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.
“SAM.”
“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”
No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.
He should’ve listened.
It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried.
“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.
“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms.
“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet.
They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten.
He should have listened.
Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung.
At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn.
“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake.
“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over.
Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.
“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”
Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him.
“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.”
Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be.
But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.
“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.
The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click.
As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.
“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend.
However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.
---
The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead.
His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.
The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence.
The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.
With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door.
His door.
Your door.
The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.
A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?
“Hmmph”
His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached.
The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise.
His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.
“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.
Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour.
With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently.
“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.
His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.
His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question.
A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.
“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.
You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.
So much for that
Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.
Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away.
With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more.
Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal.
Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body.
But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin.
His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning?
“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.
“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him.
“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better.
“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.
A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.
His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin.
“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.
But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission.
Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not.
“Oh. I-”
CRASH.
You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere.
Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on.
Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?
“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands.
“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.
You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze,
His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way.
He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you.
“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”
Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room.
“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden-
BANG.
“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet.
You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways.
Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid.
You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again.
“No…!”
A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air.
Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.
“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team.
“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.
“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again.
“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”
“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.
“Sol-”
“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive.
“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive.
“I can’t do this without you…”
The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place.
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.”
A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].”
You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague.
Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s get you two to the tower…”
----
The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab.
Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.
“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work.
“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly.
You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.
"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.
“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.
You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.
He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.
He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?
"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.
But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."
Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."
The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.
Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.
A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.
"Yes?"
“Is it time…?”
You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.
You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.
He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?”
Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.
It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss.
But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….”
-----
You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head.
“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…”
“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”
You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.
Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye.
Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well.
“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.
“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.
He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began.
You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry.
“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.
“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”
_____________
Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)
It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!
#bucky#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#james barnes x reader#james barnes x y/n#james barnes x you#james bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x Y/n#James buchanan barnes x Reader#winter soldier!bucky x reader#winter solider x reader#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#Winter soldier!Bucky x you#bucky barnes
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modern!buzzcut coryo teaching innocent!reader how to suck his cock the way he likes it :(. and he’s all cocky cause reader’s never seen a dick irl and she praises it like “ur so big, coryo :((“ “it’s so pretty”
coryo is reader’s tutor in university and she’s always had a bit of a crush on him cause he’s so handsome, smart and confident
UGHHH need a little blurb about this pleasee
🎀 anon this is insane tysm for this prompt
mdni | coryo teaches you to suck him off
you’d had the biggest crush on coryo since he’d been assigned to you as your tutor—he was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen; icy blue eyes, toned arms and a blonde buzzcut. normally you went for the more quiet, boy-next-door type; but you couldn’t help but be attracted to him, there was something about his more dangerous nature that tempted you—that made your core burn.
you two had gotten considerably close compared to the other students he tutored, and one evening he asked you for a private study session at his apartment. you were nervous, but also brimming with excitement. you were only nervous because you really liked him, but you were a virgin and if he tried anything, you were worried you’d be clumsy.
you made sure to look extra nice—and put on your tightest shirt and a tiny mini skirt, hoping he’d catch sight of your lacy underwear if you had to bend over. you even put on a little lipgloss, one that smelled like strawberries.
when you knocked on his door, he was dressed in a white shirt that stretched across his muscular arms and toned chest, and the look he gave you when he cast his gaze over your body made your heart thump. he couldn’t stop looking at your thighs, the way your mini skirt barely stopped past your ass. fuck, were you doing this on purpose?
‘hi coryo,’ you greeted him with a hug, and he got a whiff of your apple shampoo as you wrapped your arms around him.
he had to draw in a deep breath as he felt your boobs pressing against his torso; afraid that the blood would rush to his cock from the way you were being so touchy.
‘i thought we’d work on some political theory,’ he said, trying to distract himself from how fucking good you looked.
you nodded shyly, too consumed by the thought of how big his arms felt around you, how his hands brushed against your waist. you couldn’t believe he was hot and smart—to be honest you didn’t really care much for your political science class but seeing him made you work harder.
as you bounded down the hall to the living room, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way your little skirt swished against your ass—revealing the pair of lace panties you were wearing. he decided you were definitely trying to do this on purpose.
it was boring, going over different democratic processes, and you felt yourself yawning as he droned on and on. all you could think about was how much you wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him… or perhaps do more. you’d never seen a cock before, but you wanted to know what it felt like—to suck one, perhaps…
‘are you listening to me?’ you heard the voice of coryo call out, bringing you back to earth.
‘sorry,’ you pursed your lips, casting an apologetic look.
coryo shook his head, but decided to let you off—after all, there were more interesting things he could be doing this evening. your skirt had hiked up around your thighs, and you could see him staring. your cheeks turned pink, embarrassment flooding to them.
‘are you bored?’ he inquired, and you tilted your head ever so slightly.
‘y-yes,’ you admitted, eyes glancing down at your feet.
being aware that he was looking at you had made you nervous—suddenly you felt very conscious of the fact that you were wearing a tiny skirt, and that your shirt was stretching against your breasts. coryo leaned in closer to you, breath brushing against your cheek. you could see desire brimming in his icy gaze, and felt one of his hands snake to your lower back.
‘what do you want to do instead?’ he murmured.
your lip trembled, he was so close to you, his hand moved down to cup your ass—you were so innocent, the way you were bashfully gazing up at him.
‘um…’ a giggle escaped your lips. ‘i don’t know…’
he cocked a brow, smirk crossing his lips. he didn’t believe that, not with the way you were dressed, not with how you didn’t try to push him away when he squeezed your ass.
‘you sure about that?’ you shook your head in response, pretty eyes filled with nervousness. you were waiting for him to say something.
coryo felt his cock hardening as you shifted a little, hand accidentally brushing against his crotch. his lips parted, and he brought your own against them, enveloping you in a kiss. you opened your mouth, letting your tongue brush against his, making pretty noises as he kissed you hotly.
you’d never gone further than a few drunken makeouts with boys, so when you moved into coryo’s lap you were quite surprised at the feeling of something hard poking against your thigh. when you pulled away, cheeks flushed, chest heaving from your pounding heart, he had a lustful look drawn upon his face.
‘look at that, you’ve made me hard,’ coryo whispered against your ear, his hand still pawing at your ass.
‘sorry,’ you were still red, but you felt a wetness beginning to form between your thighs.
‘mhm, i don’t think you’re very sorry, are you princess?’ he teased, nipping at the soft skin of your neck. he wondered if you’d ever been given a hickey before.
‘no…’ you admitted, lashes fluttering.
how cute. the way you were all rosy-cheeked and nervous at the sight of him being hard. he let out a low groan as you moved your hips down against him—unconscious of what you were doing, of course. you only realised what you were doing when you felt his boner pressing right against your cunt.
‘you know… i could get you some extra credit if you do something for me.’ he offered. you perked up at the thought of that—extra credit. you really hated your political science class.
‘what do you want me to do?’ your brows were furrowed, an innocent look painted upon your features.
‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asked, and you shook your head, drawing your lips into a thin line.
you wanted to do it, though. you wanted him so bad that your panties were soaked, and you were sure he could feel it. the way you were moving your hips ever-so-slightly and clenching your thighs to ease the tension.
'course you don't...' he thumbed the flushed skin of your cheeks, a smile creeping upon his lips at the thought of corrupting you. 'gonna teach you how, yeah? i'm your tutor for a reason.'
your eyes widened, and he couldn't help but sigh at how fucking innocent you were. but he saw a level of desperation inside of you too, a need for him and his cock.
'now, princess, you're going to get on your knees, yeah?' his voice was soft as he directed you, pulling you off his lap so you could kneel before him.
when you'd obliged him, you gazed up at him, dumbfounded, and he took your hand and guided it to his bulge. he was so hard—painfully so—and the way you were looking at him, so eager to please, only made him throb all the more.
'see how fucking hard you've made me?' you nodded, giggling with delight as you palmed his clothed cock.
'i wanna suck it now,' you said, a little demanding.
he smirked, and moved your hand to the waistband of his jeans, directing you to unbutton them. you obeyed, and slid his jeans down to reveal his black calvin klein boxers—a man with taste, obviously. he looked even bigger now through his underwear, and you audibly gasped, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth with a hunger.
'is it gonna fit?' you asked anxiously, brows arching.
'course it will, princess,' he remarked, thinking about how much he'd love to see you gagging around him with those pretty pink lips of yours—he loved how they'd tasted of strawberries when you'd kissed him; so deliciously innocent.
you tugged at the waist and of his boxers, and when his cock sprang out your mouth stretched open in shock. he was so big. like, unbelievably big. not that you’d ever seen a cock before but you couldn’t fathom how it was supposed to fit in your mouth. the tip was red and leaning against his shirt until you reached out to grab it with your hand.
‘it’s so pretty,’ you smiled up at him, singing praises.
‘yeah? you wanna put it in your mouth?’ he suggested, and you gnawed nervously at your glossy lips.
‘what exactly do i have to do?’ you inquired, furrowing your brows. you looked so cute and confused that he had to clench his thighs to stop himself coming at the sight of you. that would be humiliating.
‘give the tip a lick, princess,’ he guided, and so you obliged.
you moved your head down, one hand gripping the base. you liked how it felt in your hand, warm and pulsing. you could almost giggle at the feeling, you wanted to take it all the way down your throat so bad but he was just too big. you stuck your tongue out, and gave the tip an experimental lick, licking up all the precum that coated it.
coryo let out a soft groan, moving his hand to smooth your hair as a gesture that you were going well. you licked the tip again, and then gazed up at him, eager to see his response. his mouth was stretched around another sound of pleasure, and his hips twitched ever so slightly at the feeling of your wet tongue.
‘it’s like a lollipop,’ you giggled, and he felt himself throb at your innocence. you just couldn’t help being so cute, could you? so fucking naive that you were in university and you’d never even sucked cock before!
‘now, i want you to take me properly,’ he begun, and you watched as he instructed you. ‘wrap your lips around me, yeah? see how far you can go.’
you obliged, making sure to push your top lip behind your teeth, realising that would probably hurt the sensitive skin of his shaft. you moved your head as far down as you could go, and when he hit the back of your throat you gagged and your eyes welled up with tears automatically.
his cock twitched in your mouth. you’d barely taken in two inches of him and already your mouth was full, lips stretched wide, pretty eyes watering. he watched you attempt to push yourself further, but it was too much, and you gagged again.
‘too big,’ you whined, a few tears trickling down your cheek.
he swiped them away with his thumb, and shook his head.
‘you gotta move your head up and down, princess,’ he guided you back to wrap your lips back around the tip. ‘try use your tongue too, laying it flat against the shaft as you bob your head.’
you moved your tongue against his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down, and watched as he let out a breathy moan. you attempted to take him further again, this time you reached about half way before gagging and having to pull him out.
‘i’m sorry,’ you whimpered, but he simply stroked your cheek and beamed down at you.
‘you’re doing so well, princess. you can use your hand if the rest won’t fit,’ he murmured, and you gave a nod of understanding.
you used one hand to grip the base while the other stroked him up and down, and wrapped your lips back around his cock. it was easier now, you didn’t have to worry about taking the other half—and it was a big half—down your throat, so you laved at him as much as you could, saliva coating his veiny cock.
‘fuck,’ he groaned, feeling his balls tighten as your tongue slid over a particularly sensitive vein.
your eyes rolled back as you pushed him to the back of your throat, hollowing out your cheeks so as much of him could fit. your core flooded with heat, you loved having his cock in your mouth so much. you adjusted your hips a little to try and ease the tension, but it was no use, so you just had to put up with the dull ache as you continued to suck him off.
coryo moved your hand at the base of his cock, and guided it to his balls. you fondled them gently, watching as his features were dancing with satisfaction, eyes fluttering prettily.
‘good girl,’ he said between groans. ‘taking my cock so well, so good…’
you smiled best you could, though it was hard with his cock down your throat. you felt him throbbing in your mouth, and pulled him out for a brief second so you could move your tongue up and down his shaft.
‘want you to come in my mouth,’ you informed him with an impish grin, moving to slide your tongue down the underside of his cock.
‘wasn’t planning on coming anywhere else… yet,’ he laughed softly, threading his fingers through your hair as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.
he was close, hips bucking into your palm as one hand massaged his balls. you were a quick learner, which was surprising considering you were quite the opposite when it came to political science. perhaps he’d just have to tutor you in this, instead.
‘mhm, gonna…’ his mouth stretched around another groan. ‘come.’
your lips were wrapped around him once again, and with an elegant thrust he emptied himself in your mouth. hot spurts of cum trickled onto your tongue and down your throat, the pearly stuff tasting slightly salty.
you giggled, pulling him out and watching the excess dribble from his tip. you opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out, showing him all the cum that pooled on it.
‘swallow it,’ he commanded.
you obliged, feeling it trickle down your throat. you poked your tongue out again and took the head—which was now extremely sensitive—licking up the rest of the stuff from his leaky tip.
‘so good,’ you moaned, swallowing it all down.
he couldn’t believe how hot you were, plump lips wet with saliva, your eyes gazing at him as you swallowed every last drop of his cum.
‘i’ll make sure you get an A on this assignment,’ he smiled, pulling you up to sit in his lap.
‘of course, that’s after i tutor you in something else…’
#coriolanus snow#tom blyth#coriolanus snow x reader#tbosbas#hunger games#smut#coryo x reader#the hunger games#fanfic#tbosbas fanfic#tbosbas smut#the hunger games smut#the hunger games x reader#x reader#female x reader#tom blyth x reader#drabble#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow smut#tbosbas x reader#coriolanus x reader#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#tom blyth fanfiction#the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction
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