#he’s just SO handsome in glasses too ><
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Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid
description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.
pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader
content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.
word count: 4,242
If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.
The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.
You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.
You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.
You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.
You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.
You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.
The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.
"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.
The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"
Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.
"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.
His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.
"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.
"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.
"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.
"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"
He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."
"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"
"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."
"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"
"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."
You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"
He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.
You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.
"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."
"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."
"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.
"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."
"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."
Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.
"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.
"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"
"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.
"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."
His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.
"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."
Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,
"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.
"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."
Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."
"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.
"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.
"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink
"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,
"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"
"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.
"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.
"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."
"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.
"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."
"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"
Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.
"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.
Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."
"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"
"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"
Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.
"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.
"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.
"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"
"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.
"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"
"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.
"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."
"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."
"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.
"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.
"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."
"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"
"Do you want to get out of here?"
"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.
You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.
"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.
"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.
The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.
"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"
You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.
"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.
"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.
Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.
As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.
With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.
"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.
You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,
"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."
"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.
"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.
"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.
"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."
"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.
"Better?" Spencer asks.
"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."
Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.
"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"
"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.
"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."
"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.
"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.
"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.
The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?
The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.
"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.
"University Drive."
The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-
"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."
"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.
Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.
The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.
"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.
"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.
You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.
You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.
"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.
"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.
"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.
"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.
"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.
"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.
You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.
"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.
"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.
"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"
"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"
"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.
You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"
"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."
Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.
The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.
"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.
"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."
"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.
A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid x f! reader
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⊹ ᳝ ࣪ overstimulation with spencer reid.
cw. 16+, oral (blowjob m!reciving), sub!spencer & dom!reader, imagined with early season two spence w glasses <3
wc. 534
“mhm-” he whimpered. “i- hm, fuck-”
both of spencer’s calloused hands grip at the soft edge of the couch. his form was once standing, but he quickly became seated the moment your mouth got onto. he doesn't know how long ago that was, and he's quickly lost track of the amount of times you've made him come.
“please- i can't.” he cries, the sensitivity from the previous rounds still linger fresh. a comes up to settle upon your head, but doesn't pull you up.
you look up at spencer through your damp lashes from the feeling of his touch. swirling your wet tongue around his tip, one hand soothing up his thigh and the other pumping whatever you couldn't take. spencer looked so pretty like this, eyes screwed shut, whimper and whines falling from his mouth, various strands of hair sticking to his forehead, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose from sweat.
coming off his tip with pop. you continue to pump him, his previous arousal being enough to act as a lube.
“what was that, handsome?” you ask, still looking up at him. wanting to hear that magic word again.
“ple-”
you frown, hands instantly removing themselves from spencer’s body. his hips buck upward at your retreat.
“wha-”
“you open your eyes when you speak to me. right, baby?” you cut him off. the two of you don't have explicit rules in your relationship, but spencer looking you in the eyes when telling you what he wants has always been an unspoken one.
“yes.”
you hum at his response. “so, why are your eyes still closed then?”
spencer’s eyes instantly shot open, big, droopy, and hazy. you smile.
“that’s better. you know i like look at you.”
“i know. it’s too much.” he whines.
“i know, i know. but, tell me what you want. y’know i’ll give you anything you ask for.”
spencer’s breath hitches, you returned to slowly pumping him again. and you begin to kiss up his shaft, proud to see that by the time you reach his tip to look back at him he's still still looking at you.
“go on, baby. tell me what you want. say the magic word.” you encourage.
“please, i- i need your mouth. i need to cum. please?” his last please comes out trivial and his brows furrow from the increase pumping on his cock.
smiling once more at your boy. “so good.” is all you say before you attach yourself back onto his length. bobbing your head to take as much as him as you could.
drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, you normally keep clean, for spencer’s sake. but all in this moment you just wanted to make him cum, and by his increase in pitch of his whimpers and the frequency of his please, he was getting close.
“please- ah, fuck. m’ gonna.” his body finished before he could end his sentence.
swallowing his load and wiping the drool from off your mouth, you take in spencer's exasperated state. pushing yourself from off your knees to hover over spencer’s form. pushing back his damp hair to kiss his forehead.
“don’t think we’re done just yet, pretty boy.”
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Seventeen and first dates (all members)
More like this on Seventeen Masterlist <3
Requests are open!
Genre: FLUFF
→ Choi Seungcheol
“You do look like a fish” he says.
You and cheol were walking around in an aquarium as your first official date. You both have been really close friends for a while before you decided to finally give into your feelings and see where it goes with each other.
You couldn’t be happier, cheol really was the best thing that happened to you, even friendship wise. The sweetest boy.
“Look, that looks exactly like you” he points to ansilly looking fish through the glass.
You put you lips out and pout like a fish.
“Close your eyes; you look exactly like this fish behind you,”
You giggle at that, you’ve never been told you look like a fish and that made you laugh,
“let me take a picture” he says.
You stand at the glass, with your lips out and eyes closed. After two clicks you feel someone in front of you and a pair of lips, pecking yours.
“Hey!” You were fully red. It was your first kiss with him. It was playful and so sweet. Nothing like you imagined but a 100 times cuter, innocent.
“Sue me! I stole a kiss” he says running away from you while you chase him.
“Come back here”
→Yoon Jeonghan
“You can’t eat anything if you don’t catch anything!,” jeonghan tells you while you stand at this pool like area for fishes.
You and Jeonghan confessed quite mutually to each other that you liked each other. All your friends could see it, how you would kick your feet at his messages and how he would giggle at yours. You weren’t just friends.
“You’ll let your girlfriend starve?” You ask acting offended.
He pauses for a second and scans you top to bottom.
“Yes”
You playfully smack him while the fish catching turns into a competition about who catches more fish. At the end of the night you had 6 fishes you caught, snd you foulness possibly eat 6 fishes so you gave some away to the kids who couldn’t catch any.
“If this is how we were going to catch fish, I would’ve taken you fishing instead”
“I am somewhat of a master fisherman myself”
You giggle at the reference.
→ Hong Joshua
You’ve liked joshua ever since he transfered to you school in high school. He was your bench mate and it wasn’t a long time before you fell for his charm, he was a handsome boy with such a kind heart. You still had an umbrella he gave you to use.
You met him again at a reunion after years and the group of friends planned to go to an amusement park that weekend at the reunion.
Seeing him again, after years set you off with some feelings, all unresolved.
You reached the amusement park as a group but little did you know it was a set up and suddenly you and Joshua were left alone.
You ended up touring the entire park, you realised he was the same crazy shua you knew and liked. Everything he did made you laugh.
“Here!” He says and hands you a bracelet he won shooting at balloons.
“A souvenir from our first date” he adds.
You look up at him in surprise.
“First date?”
“Unless you don’t want it to be”
“No, of course, I like that”
“Good”
‘Our first date’ rang in your head the rest of the day.
→ Moon Junhui
This was the first time you had gone over to your boyfriend, Jun's apartment. He liked decorating his apartment and interior design, his apartment was full of decorative items, you went through them all. it was fascinating how much you realise of a person just by seeing how they decorate their spaces.
Jun had called you over for a home cooked meal that he was so confident about. He was so excited to make you this Malapot that he knows he makes the best. He wanted to almost show off to you and impress you with his food.
You were excited for the food too, just listening to him talk about it made you drool when you made the plan.
"Ah it's ruined" you hear jun's voice from the kitchen.
"What's wrong?" you walk over.
"Somethings wrong, it's not tasting the way it's supposed to" he says dejected. You go over and he gives you a spoonful of broth from the pot. It was quite flavourful.
"It's good Jun, what's wrong?" you ask again.
"It's good, not great, I can do so much better" he was very disappointed. He just wanted you to enjoy his food and like his food.
"I'll eat anything you make junnie" you say hugging his side while his eyes never leave the pot in front of him.
You force him to look at you.
"There's always a next time, I'm not going anywhere"
He finally smiles.
→ Kwon Hoshi
You were cycling with your boyfriend of 1 week, hoshi. You met at a fashion show and immediately clicked. You fell for his goofy personality and felt this urge to protect him from the world.
He asked you out first and you happily agreed. Both of you had some feelings some flirtatious text messages happening between the two of you.
But today you could taste blood, he was cycling way too hard and you couldn’t catch up.
He was a little ahead of you while you volunteered to crash in the grass to relax, you would’ve died if you went on for a little longer.
You were panting while the tiger came back to you to check if you are okay.
“Cycling is too hard” you say between laboured breaths.
“You have no stamina” he smirks suggesting something completely different.
It was your chance to chase him down for that comment.
“We’ll see” you blush but also respond sassily chasing him in the grass.
→ Jeon Wonwoo
Jeon Wonwoo, your next door neighbour that had taken a liking to you, has made it routine to pick you up from office everyday, so you could go back home together.
You were still unsure about dating him and he gave you all the time in the world to come to a decision.
You wanted to surprise him today, by agreeing to date him. You had spent a lot of time together and he was a sweet guy. You were just scared of something, past relationships weren’t exactly a flower path. He understood that.
You came out of your office building, to see wonwoo, hopefully your soon to be boyfriend, waiting at his bike.
“Did you wait for too long?”
He smiles. “I’ll wait forever, if its for you”
Maybe you don’t have to wait anymore.
You take a deep breath and take his hands in yours.
“Listen, I had to talk to you about something”
His body language changes and he’s almost nervous. You fidget with his thumb, very embarrassed and shy.
“Whats wrong?” He asks getting concerned at how you couldn’t make eye contact with him.
“I gave us a thought”
He visibly freezes. Like he’s preparing himself for anything thats to come.
“I like you Wonwoo, I know I’ve been scared but Im ready to get through that”
There is a glowing smile on his face. “I’ll treat you so well, I promise” his hand pats your hair. It makes you feel safe and reassured.
“So girlfriend?” He asks putting your helmet on you and buckling up for you.
Him calling you girlfriend sets your chest on fire.
“Yes, boyfriend” you squeak out, not used to this.
“Let me take you to the moon, our first date”
“I’ll go anywhere with you” you say softly, getting on his bike.
→ Lee Jihoon
Jihoon was a schoolmate first, your co worker second, he recommended you at the company you work at now. You became close with him being the only person you knew. Soon, this closeness turned into romantic feelings. You couldn’t get him out of your head.
You asked him out, you straight up told him, you like him and what he thinks about it. It was the first time you had seen him speechless. He took a minute to collect himself before he said “sure” and you started dating. Although his demeanour may seem as if he doesn’t care but you know he likes you too. There has been multiple times jihoon has gone out of his way to help you blend into your work and otherwise.
“Our first dinner in the studio” he said and it made you smile. You like when he says ‘ours’
“You never let me eat in the studio, how cone today you called me here”
His face turns red before he answers. “I thought it’ll be rude to have your girlfriend eat out while I work in the studio”
It was your turn to turn red. You mutter “cute” under your breath.
The power suddenly shuts down and the whole room goes pitch black. Jihoon steps out to see if its just his studio.
“I think something wrong with the generator on this wing” he says sitting next to you on the couch while you gobble up the food you brought for the both of you.
You hear him sigh and carefully lay his hesd on your shoulder.
“Are you tired?”
He shakes his head cuddling closer, you never took him for a cuddler but its like a cat, if a cat CHOOSES you to cuddle, you shouldn’t move. Thats exactly what you did.
You turn on the light on your phone and set it on the coffee table next to your food.
“Torch light dinner”
You hear him chuckle at that while you offer him some food almost feeding him.
You hoped the light never came back and this stayed like this forever.
→ Seo Myungho
You ran an art workshop where you met Minghao for the first time. You didn’t know what he did and who he was until you saw your pictures plastered all over the internet one day.
He was the first to say he likes you. You liked him too, he brought perspective to your life and you loved that about him.
You and him were at a library having a relaxed date but the thing is you suggested going to a library when you didn’t even read.
You look over at hao, sitting by the window completely immersed in his book, he looked gorgeous. You pick out a comic to read from the shelf. You were a bad reader, even comics bored you after a while. But since Hao liked reading you thought you can enjoy it too. You sat next to him on the couch he was at.
You flipped through the pages and almost got bored instantly.
“Trouble reading?” You hear a whisper next to you.
You look up, not being able to manage this front you put on to impress him.
This was the second time he caught you looking bored.
“I’ll be honest, I’ve never been a reader”
“Everyone’s a reader, you just haven’t found the right book yet”
He’s so wise and calm, he brings stability to your chaos. He suggested a book you might like and he was right, you were immediately hooked to the premise and discovered that you like the thriller genre that doesn’t let you put your book down.
→ Kim Mingyu
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
You shake your head no. Kim Mingyu was a random guy you bumped into at a coffee shop you frequented at. You madecthe first move and dared to ask his number.
Turns out he was the sweetest guy you had spoken to in 4 years. He really reset your brain and suddenly you just wanted to do everything in your power to see where things go. You felt an instant connection you didn’t want to let go of and regret later. You decided you’d go for it.
Kim mingyu comes back to your car, you and him decide to watch a screening of cars 2 in a drive in theatre. You have never been to one and he was excited to show you.
As soon as he opens his package of food, the air is filled with the smell of burrito. It makes you hungry as soon as it hits your nose. But you already told him you didn’t want any, and asking for even a bite felt criminal.
But you were subconsciously staring at his food.
“You’re staring y:n” he calls you out.
You immediately snap out of it and look away, muttering a quick sorry under your breath.
You see him dig into his package and pull out another burrito wrap.
“This is for you” he hands you a wrap.
“No, Im really fine” you defend yourself again, but you were so so hungry.
“I know what ‘im fine’ means y/n, it means you’ll get hungry when you watch me eat” he says smiling like the big puppy he is.
You can’t help but give in, you take a wrap from him smiling sheepishly. He really was the best.
“You eat so well, it could make anyone hungry” you say cutely while he gobbled up his burrito in literally 2 bites. It was insane to watch this man eat.
He pats your head softly.
“HEY! Burrito hands!” You squeal while he laughs.
→ Lee Dokyeom
You and Dokyeom were cycling in the park. It was one of your first dates. You had met him at a coffee shop,ordering something you also liked so he offered to pay for yours too.
Here you were on another date with the goofball. The original plan was to bicycle around the park and get some lunch at a picnic spot.
But, as with dokyeom, he fell off his bike showing off some ‘cool’ moves to you. Although he made you laugh but the fall looked bad. You ended up getting him some ice from the store to press on his wrist.
“This is very normal”
“What do you mean?”
"I was a very… curious kid, i’d put my feet out on the road as a car would pass, just to see how it feels” you laugh out loud at that. “That’s hilarious”
“At least this is making you hold my hand” he says looking down at your hands pressing his with ice while your other hand hold his wrist in place.
This realisation makes your ears go red.
→ Boo Seungkwan
“I can’t believe it” seungkwan exclaims.
You met seungkwan as a trainee and you had become fast friends. But life happened and you decided not to be a trainee anymore. You ended up going for artist management and becoming a manager.
Life had plans of its own when they assigned you to seungkwan and your friendship rekindled. This time the friendship took a step further and you started to love spending time with him laughing with him.
One fine day in the car you blurted out that you liked him while driving him to a solo schedule. To your surprise he reciprocated these feelings. You were the happiest girl that day.
“What what happened?” You ask. You and seungkwan had come hiking to a mountain close to his place.
“My pants tore”
You laugh out loud. “What a memorable first date” you continue laughing while he scurries to cover himself with his bag and a towel he had brought in his little backpack.
“What a story, ‘kids, your dad hiked so hard, his pants tore on our first date’” you laugh thinking about the anecdote you have now you can use. Its a funny story.
“You want to have kids with me?” He asks stopping what he did and looks up at you
You freeze at what had just come out of your mouth. You did not mean it like that but now that you think about it definitely sounded like you wanted to have his babies.
“Um..”
“Thats cute” he says and a sense of relief washes over you as you try to come up with something else to catch the subject STAT.
→ Choi Vernon
Vernon wanted to watch this scary movie and you liked him so much you just wanted to be with him. But you forgot how scary scary movies can become.
Half way through the movie you were flinching and just uncomfortable in your seat, it really felt like someone was going to grab your feet from under the seat.
Seeing you this uncomfortable, vernon casually decided to put his arm around you and cover your eyes for you while you covered your ears with both your hands to protect yourself from jumpscares.
This position automatically made you lean into him a little and it made you feel a million types of a ways. He smelled good was the only consistent thought.
“Are you okay?” He asks leaning into your ears and whispering.
It sent a shiver down your spine. You nod without being able to push out any words. You liked being this close to him. ‘The things you do to me Choi Vernon’ you think to yourself.
You could watch a thousand horror movies if this is how you watch it.
→ Lee Chan
“Its burnt!” He exclaimed looking at the marshmellow you decided to toast for yourself.
“Thats the flavour!” You defend. You liked slightly burnt marshmallows.
You and chan are childhood friends that ended up falling for each other. Your way of showing love was through constant banter.
One such banter, Chan ended up confessing his feelings for you and you found it so cute.
You move away to get some crackers for the marshmallows. As you come back you hear a scream.
“Whats wrong whats wrong?” You panic and rush to him. You see Chan holding his fingers out and hissing in pain.
You immediately take his hand to inspect.
You see that it was a little red, he probably burnt himself. You see him think for a second. He is going to say something funny, you knew that look on his face, trying to cook up a joke.
“I burnt myself so you’ll like me” he said dramatically looking into your eyes.
The lamest joke ever made you laugh so hard, only because it was Chan who said it.
#svt imagines#svt preferences#seventeen#carats#caratland#svt scenarios#svt jun#svt hoshi#svt wonwoo#svt woozi#svt minghao#svt Mingyu#svt dokyeom#svt seungkwan#svt vernon#svt dino#dad svt#seventeen dad#dad!scoups#dad!svt#lee chan#dino x reader#seungkwan x reader#hoshi x reader#woozi x reader#svt fluff#svt#scoups x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader
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This is my first time really interacting on here, but I really love you work so I just had to request something.💜💜
Character: Nanami
AU Setting: Masquerade ball
Spice Level: NSFW
Mood: Your choice
Kinks: Degradation and size difference
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Non Curse AU. Degradation. Dirty talk. Size difference.
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback at all is adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.
The stranger at the open bar is looking at you again. He’s totally your type, with his slicked back blonde hair and impeccably tailored black suit. He’s tall, muscular but not too bulky, and he stands there holding a drink in his large hand as his eyes slide over to you again. He’s wearing a black silk mask that covers the top half of his face, the sort most of the men are wearing at this swanky masquerade ball for bored rich assholes.
You’re just here for the free drinks and food. Your uncle’s tech start up recently hit it big, so he got an invite to this party two weeks ago. “New Money”, they probably called him. But of course his perpetually single ass didn’t have a date, so he invited you to be his plus one. He even bought you a fancy cocktail dress, in shimmery fuchsia with a low neckline and high split up to the hip. You topped it off with a matching lace mask.
When the two of you walked in, your uncle patted your back and jokingly told you to “go nab yourself a rich guy”. You smiled and grabbed a glass of champagne from a tray being carried by a server.
That was over an hour ago, and you’ve barely seen your uncle since then. You spotted him a couple of times, chatting with other tech business bigwigs, but otherwise you’ve been on your own. You don’t mind. The food is fabulous and the drinks are plentiful.
Then there’s the handsome stranger who keeps looking your way. You can see his eyes through the holes in his mask, can watch them travel up and down your body as you move across the room. There’s a dance floor where some of the early 20’s folks are dancing, so you head over and put on a little show. You may not be used to fancy places like this, but you go to clubs with your friends every weekend, so you know how to shake your ass to some music.
It worked. The stranger’s full attention is on you, his eyes practically glued to your every move. You wish he would just come over and dance with you, but you suppose he’s too mature for that. He gives off a totally different vibe from the young guys who hang around you at the club.
Feeling emboldened by his hungry gaze, you work your way over to the bar and stand a few feet away from him, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach. You fan yourself as if you’re hot after dancing, hoping your perfume drifts over to him.
Within seconds, he moves closer to you, leaning back against the bar casually as he asks, “Who did you come with?”
Are you that obviously out of place? You smile at him. “Who says someone didn’t come with me?” you say teasingly, sipping your fruity drink.
“Just a hunch,” he replies, glancing at you sideways.
You point to your uncle across the room. He’s laughing a little too loudly, being just a tad too clingy to the bear-like man standing next to him. You hope they’re hitting it off. “My uncle didn’t have a date, so I tagged along.”
The stranger smiles faintly. Was that his way of finding out if you’re single? His eyes roam blatantly up and down you again. You hope he’s enjoying the closer look. You certainly are. He’s tall enough to tower over you, and his warm, honey-colored eyes draw you in. He’s the kind of man you want on top of you at the nearest opportunity.
“Are you enjoying the party?” he asks, moving even closer to you. He smells expensive.
“The drinks and the food? Yeah. Not sure about the people yet,” you say with a grin.
“Oh? This isn’t your usual crowd?”
You turn your whole body to face him. “Not really. I don’t usually hang around snobby rich jerks. But maybe a few of them are alright.” You say the last part playfully, looking him up and down the way he did you.
His eyes flick down to your chest, as if tracing the dipping neckline, then return to your face. “Perhaps we could talk in one of the private rooms, and you can find out if I’m ‘alright’.”
You feel your heartbeat getting faster as your excitement builds, but you maintain your breezy attitude. “Private rooms? Are we allowed to go in those? The owner of this house might not like that.”
The person throwing this lavish party is also the owner of this ridiculously huge mansion. Your uncle mentioned their name but it didn’t seem important at the time.
The stranger smiles again. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
He holds out his hand, and you take it, trying to keep your breathing steady as he escorts you through the room. He keeps pace with you, probably walking more slowly than he’d prefer, and moves in such a way that it seems like he’s clearing the path for you. Such a gentleman! You really hope he’ll be fucking you like a whore soon.
As the two of you step into a hallway, you notice the marble floors and the walls lined with paintings. “Look at this,” you say. “Who actually needs all this? It’s obnoxious.”
The stranger chuckles. “You really think so?”
You stop to look at a Chinese vase. It probably cost more than your apartment and your car combined. “All this stuff is beautiful, but I heard the owner lives here alone. He has to get lonely in this giant house, right?”
The stranger regards you for a moment, then says, “He probably does. Maybe he even throws these parties just to have some company.”
You think about his answer. “If that’s the case, I feel bad for him.”
The stranger says no more on the topic, instead leading you into what appears to be some sort of dressing room with an enormous walk-in closet. It’s exactly the kind of room you imagine a stupidly rich guy would get dressed in. There are multiple full length mirrors, high quality lighting, and a display case showing off dozens of expensive looking watches.
You turn to look at the stranger as he closes the door behind him. He holds out his large yet elegant hand to you again, and when you take it, he suddenly pulls you close, right up against his body. Oh god, he’s so firm and strong! He leans his face down and kisses your lips, both of you still wearing your masquerade masks. His hands slide across your back, one of them moving down to squeeze your ass.
He pulls away and looks at you, his dark eyes peering into yours. “What would you like me to do?” he asks, his voice low.
You lean in closer to him, pressing yourself to his warm, sturdy form, and whisper, “I want you to wreck me.”
He puts both hands on your shoulders and, not too hard but not too gently, pushes you down to your knees in front of him. He unbuttons his sleek black pants as he says, “Let’s put that annoying little mouth to good use.”
Oh fuck. How does he know exactly what you’re into? Maybe you give off a vibe. You watch with anticipation, licking your lips, as he pulls out his beautiful, massive cock. Is everything about this man as sexy as possible? From the color to the shape to the thick, delectable meatiness, his cock is gorgeous.
You don’t waste any time. You lean forward and run your tongue over it, spreading your saliva around, before wrapping your lips around it. You take him so deep, it feels like he’s halfway down your throat, and you love the fact that there’s going to be a hot pink lipstick stain around the base of his cock.
His hand is in your hair, grip firm but not harsh. “You’re practically swallowing me,” he says. “You must’ve been hungry for cock all night. Is that why you put on that lewd little show for me on the dance floor? So you could end up on your knees for me?”
You look up at his face, your mouth still stuffed full, and mumble a whiny “mmhmm” around his cock. You can see his eyes widen slightly behind the mask, feel his fingers flexing within your strands. You move your head back and forth, fucking him with your throat, fighting back gags, your tongue swirling around him the whole time.
And when he reaches his limit, he pulls your head back and says, “Open wide.”
You’re happy to obey, sticking your tongue halfway out of your mouth to give him a proper place to aim. When his warm cum hits your tongue and lips, you slowly swirl it around your mouth, giving him time to see it pooled inside before swallowing it.
He loosens his tie and then lowers himself to his knees in front of you before unbuttoning his shirt, leaving both it and his jacket on but open. You can see his toned torso, can feel how damp your panties have become. He slides the straps of your dress down, revealing your breasts, and then leans down to take one hard nipple into his mouth. You moan as you dig your fingers into the fabric of his jacket.
The stranger eases you onto your back on the floor, then pushes your shimmering dress up to your waist. It’s the most expensive dress you’ve ever worn, and right now you don’t give a shit it gets dirty. He slides down your lace panties and opens your legs, looking down at your wetness with a somewhat self satisfied smile.
“So wet for me,” he says as his fingers probe your depths. “Such a little slut, getting soaked for a man who’s face you haven’t even seen.”
Ahhh, fuck, his voice turns you on so much! His fingers rubbing circles into your clit are driving you wild. You want him, no you need him inside you!
“Please,” you whine, tugging him closer.
He withdraws his hand and lifts your hips off the floor, pulling your lower half into his lap, his thick cock resting against your needy pussy. “Do you want my cock?”
“Yes, please!” you cry, wiggling in his lap, desperate for some friction.
He has mercy on you, positioning himself at your entrance and then plunging inside. You gasp in pleasure, arching your back as he begins thrusting into you.
“So tight,” he groans, gripping your thighs. “You’re clenching me so hard… so desperate… Fuck, you’re the cheapest whore I’ve ever had! You probably would’ve paid me for this cock!”
“Ahhh! Yes, I’m a whore for you! Please fuck me harder!” you scream, feeling your climax approach as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. When he slams into you one more time, you feel the pleasure wash over you as you cum, moaning and trembling.
He gives a few more pumps, then completely buries himself inside you as he cums, filling you up so well.
You both pant as he pulls out and stands up, buttoning his clothes. He then extends his hand to you again and helps you to your feet. While you straighten your dress and pull your straps back up, he looks at you somewhat sheepishly and says, “I hope I didn’t go too far with my words.”
You blink in surprise, then laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about it! I was into it.”
He smiles. “I thought so. I’m glad.”
You open your mouth to respond, but there’s a sudden knock on the door. The stranger walks over and opens it. A man in a server’s uniform is standing in the doorway, looking frazzled.
“There you are, sir! We’ve been looking all over for you!” the server says breathlessly.
“Oh? And what do you need?”
“We’ve run out of champagne! Your guests are getting irritated!”
The stranger pats the server’s back. “Send Ryusuke to buy more immediately. Everything will be fine, I’ll go talk to the guests.”
The server seems to relax. “Thanks, Nanami-san.”
You watch the scene, trying to keep your jaw from dropping. Now you remember the name of the host, the man who owns this huge mansion that you’ve been shit talking all night.
Nanami turns to look at you over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face. “Will you be accompanying me back to the ballroom?”
You smile back at him. “Of course. I might get lost in this stupidly huge house otherwise.”
He takes your hand. “Perhaps if you started visiting on a regular basis, you could learn your way around.”
You walk out the door with him. “That would probably work, Nanami-san.”
#nanami x reader#nanami#nanami smut#kento nanami#nanami x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#x reader#candys2kevent
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Prompt 28 - Dogwalking AU
@wolfstarmicrofic - April 28th, 1284 words
The doorbell rings in the middle of a Saturday, and Padfoot, bless that big silly boy, barks and wags his tail in his better impersonation of a golden retriever.
When Remus picked him up from the shelter, he was told Padfoot was a dog not many people took interest in, big and black as he was, people assumed he'd be aggressive. No matter he was actually a sweet silly puppy at heart, no matter his previous owner had obviously trained him well. In French of all languages, but still, well trained once you got the hang of the right commands.
It was Lily who had called him, almost begging him to take this dog. Padfoot was clearly struggling to adapt to the shelter, needed extra cuddles from the humans, and although he was very friendly, the volunteers could see him getting sadder by the day. So Lily, in her endless wisdom, had called the one friend who also needed some extra company, who also needed those extra cuddles, and who struggled to voice that need. And so Remus had found himself with a lap full of Padfoot and jumpers that would forever be interwoven with black dog hair.
Enough to say it had been some very happy six months so far.
So here they are, cuddling on the sofa, Remus with a cup of tea on one hand and a dark romance novel in the other, something he's reading for the bookclub Mary roped him into. Padfoot lying down mostly on top of him, a happy dog smile on his furry little face as he drools in his sleep. The doorbell rings and Padfoot scrambles up, paws expertly finding and painfully digging in all of Remus' soft places.
"Coming! Just a sec! No, Pads, back, stand back- No, Padfoot, wait, listen you need to let me open the door-" Remus finally manages to push Padfoot out of the way and open the door just a crack. Outside, there are two handsome young men, one big and buff and sporting a pair of glasses that would look nerdy on anyone else but on him just look sexy, and one tall and lean, leather jacket and wide legged pants hugging a tight waist barely visible under a crop top.
Remus immediately can be sure of two things: one, it's been way too long since he got laid if he's thirsting so hard over strangers, and two, this is probably a type of scam, since how else would two people that looked like this ever knock randomly on Remus' door?
"Hi!" The dark skinned one says with a bright smile. Padfoot barks louder, trying to push against Remus' legs.
"No, Pads, please shh- Hello?" Remus answers.
"Is that your dog?" Says the man in leather, hands in his pockets, but head trying to peak behind Remus. Padfoot barks and barks and barks.
"Yeah?" Remus says, and it's almost a question. "Sorry for the noise, if that's the problem, we're usually a lot quieter than this, he's just excit-"
"He's a very handsome dog" interrupts the man, eyes shining.
"...ok" Remus doesn't want to be rude, really, but what ever? He almost closes the door in their faces, he would have, if he wasn't both trying to hold the door and stop Padfoot from pushing it open. "No, Pads, please, what is happening, love? Please shhh"
"I told you it was Padfoot!" Says the one with the glasses, slapping the other man on the back and then coming even closer, to kneel by Remus' door and try to pet Padfoot through the small crack. Padfoot goes berserk at this. "Name's James, this is Sirius-" James nods to the other man, and then his voice shifts to a baby voice "-and this is baby Padfoot, yes you are, yes you are baby boy, who's the bestest boy?"
"How did you, uhm, did you find my address from the shelter?" Remus says, thinking maybe Lily lead them here.
"The shelter? He was in a shelter?" Sirius eyes snap up to Remus' face, searching for something. His eyes are still shining dangerously.
"Oh no, I saw you two walking and I followed you the other day" James says casually, as if that's just the most normal thing to do, follow people home, and then adds, with a wink "I could recognize my nephew anywhere"
Remus finally opens the door, and Padfoot runs out, jumping up and down, around the two men. He then jumps right up onto Sirius chest, huge black dog being held like the most precious thing, and Sirius just starts bawling, right then and there, against Padfoot's fur. The dog licks his face and wags his tail. Remus is moved but also very, very confused.
"I was told he was surrendered" Remus says, doubtfully, after the sobs diminish. "His family couldn't take care of him anymore"
"They told me they killed him" Sirius says, and starts sobbing hard again. James runs a hand up and down his back, looking pained.
"Maybe Reggie took him. He's smart like that, and you always said he loves animals, he probably lied to them" James says, and looks at Remus as if asking for support on this. Remus almost throws his hands up. What can he even say? He doesn't know who this Reggie person is! Hell, he doesn't know who these two men are!
"So" Remus starts, feeling at a loss but also starting to feel slightly annoyed. Whoever these people are, they are clearly the previous owners, but Remus- well, Remus loves this dog, alright? And he's not going to let him go, especially not back to the family that abandoned him in the first place. "I'm sorry, but- you can't take him"
The two men look up at him, Sirius still teary eyed, James tilting his head as if confused.
"You can't take him with you, I mean" Remus says, hoping his voice sounds more confident than he feels. "He's- we live together, now, he's been living here for months, and he was in the shelter a long time too, so I don't think-"
"No, I understand" Sirius interrupts, and Padfoot finally jumps down. Wagging his tail happily, watching all of them with big, happy eyes.
"Sirius-" James starts, voice unsure.
"No, James, that makes sense. This is his home now and I think..." Sirius trails off.
"Remus"
"...I think Remus is right" he finishes, hand on his hips and nodding as if trying to convince himself.
James looks at Sirius with something close to heartbreak in his eyes, Sirius looks at Padfoot adoringly, Padfoot comes to Remus, all silly smiles and happy tail, and Remus says something he had never considered before.
"Maybe you could walk him, sometimes?" Remus says, and when two sets of eyes look up at him, he blushes. "I mean, he will still live here, but if you want... You could take him for walks, or to the dog park"
"Oh! Like joint custody!" James perks up with a bright smile. Remus winces.
"Like dogwalking" Remus corrects, but he sees Sirius' hopeful smile.
"Yeah, I'd- I'd love that, actually."
Remus' heart beats faster when Sirius looks him straight in the eyes. He suddenly has a feeling this will all be too much like co-parenting.
He blushes, and when Sirius says he'll stop by the next day and asks Remus for his favorite coffee order so he can bring some for him, Remus fights the urge to bite his lip like a teenage girl.
He closes the door, and slides down until he's sitting with his back against it, and a lap full of happy, panting Padfoot.
"Oh, Pads, what did we get ourselves into?"
-
You can read more of my work here
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Any thoughts on warlock!Tav? I don't know which would be more fun, having Raphael as a patron or Raphael being jealous of Tav's patron 🤭
They were four moves in, and Tav had yet to learn why Raphael had called her to the Devil’s Den.
She doubted it was as simple as a ‘friendly match of lanceboard’; there was always something just shy of his ambitious reach, and she was waiting for when he would be forthright about what that something was.
Thus far for their appointment, the fiend (in his mortal disguise) offered only polite pleasantries; an inquiry about how she was faring after being rid of the tadpole, a recommendation that she try a glass of ‘perfectly aged wine he’d been saving for her’, and, of course, a ‘friendly’ game of lanceboard (to ‘personally witness her strategic skills in action’).
And here they were; barely talking as she concentrated with a pinched brow on what move to make next, all while Raphael stared at her with a glint in his eye and the faintest of smirks on his lips.
She was a piece down (lanceboard was not a strong suit of hers), meaning he was in the lead.
Which was probably the main reason as to why he looked so arrogant and relaxed.
Tav bit her lip in question of whether to move her priest or send out another pawn.
“Am I correct in the knowledge that you’ve been in a pact with your patron for a few years?” he asked.
More pleasantries - so that the scales of their appointment didn’t tip towards awkwardness.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Tav answered softly. The reply was automatic; all attention was centered on the game before her.
She wanted to win - especially when her opponent was none other than Raphael.
The white priest slid to a free space, and, in response, Raphael swiftly mirrored a similar move with his black priest.
“Tell me about this patron of yours, my dear.”
Her previously focused gaze flicked up from the board to meet that oh-so-devilish glint, and, in response, Tav’s eyes mirrored his in forming a glint of their own; it was a mischievous twinkle that her fey patron would appreciate and applaud - hence why the pact was offered to her to begin with.
After all, it wasn’t every day that a mortal outtricked a trickster in the middle of a dangerous wood.
“They’re from the feywild,” Tav said, her brow pinching again in pretend consideration of her the next (literal) move. Yes, lanceboard was assuredly not her strong suit, but games involving ‘Reactions from Raphael’ were a favored pastime she excelled in. “I’d ask if you knew him, or of him, but he never gave me his name…”
She glanced up, and at the mention of ‘him’, a muscle twitched in Raphael’s cheek.
“Perhaps you could describe this patron, and I would know their name? I’m versed enough in the archfey and the dealings of their ilk,” he said with the offhanded shrug of a shoulder.
What a wonderful idea!
“That’s a wonderful idea!” At that, Tav mentally bid the game of lanceboard farewell. She lifted a foot to sit on the cushion with her and rested her elbow upon her knee. Her cheek leaned into the palm of her hand, and a wistful expression was painted upon her face. “With as often as I think of him, he should be easy enough to recall…”
Raphael’s glint was becoming lost to an approaching fire on the horizon.
“He’s tall, dark, handsome - the classic, romantic type from the stories. His hair color reminds me of yours, actually, but it’s a fair bit longer - goes past his shoulders, and not a strand is out of place. Now that I think about it, he’s about your height, too. Slightly less broad-shouldered, more wiry I’d say, but still quite muscular. Not sure what he was doing in the middle of the woods without a shirt, but, hey, that’s the fey for you…”
None of it was true; Puck was a small and sprightly creature with rosy cheeks and other impish features. His hair was not long and tidy, having been an unkempt mess adorned with twigs and leaves at the time of their meeting, and also unlike her false rendering, the fey’s childlike frame had been dressed in greenery and animal skins.
“He’s very strong! Lifted me easily - ah, forgive me. That probably doesn’t help you much…”
Raphael was battling a sneer, and his relaxed pose was becoming less relaxed the more she went on.
So Tav did the next best thing.
She continued.
“There was a…” She tried to find the correct word while miming in the air with her free hand. “Certain regalness about him. I thought he might be a part of some high court of some kind. He appeared in fog and left in fog, but not before offering me a pact - which I accepted, naturally.” Tav sighed. “The whirlwind encounter, however brief it was, left me breathless. I’m so grateful to have lost my way in the woods that day.”
Raphael looked livid, and she could imagine Puck clapping.
She pushed a pawn forward. “Do you know of any fey by that description?”
“It is unfortunate that I do not,” he deadpanned.
The glint had long been lost to the fire of his burning stare.
“I believe it’s your move, Raphael.”
The cambion worked his jaw, and his tongue ran across his top teeth, emitting a slight sucking sound.
He was determining his move, but it was not a move involving lanceboard.
Tav dropped her innocence along with her tone.
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
His tone dropped to match hers. “And if I was, Little Mouse?”
Humored, she huffed a breath and smiled.
“Why did you have me come?”
Raphael glanced at the board and aggressively (recklessly) took her pawn with his priest. “I wished to become your patron.”
Oh…
An exciting prospect that she’d thought about but never considered as being a possibility...
His interest in her… did it mirror her interest in him?
“I’ll tell you what,” Tav snatched his priest with her rook. “If you win this match, I’ll see what I can do about breaking my pact with Puck, and I’ll happily sign a new pact with you.”
Disdain drained the color from his face.
“Puck,” he sneered, and it was then that he knew he’d been played. “Like attracts like! I should not be surprised that one chaotic wretch of a creature was drawn to another!”
“On the contrary, surely you also believe that opposites attract?” Tav smiled with a tilt of her head. “Or have you changed your mind about wanting me, a ‘chaotic wretch’, to be your warlock?”
Raphael’s silence was confirmation that he had not changed his mind (though it disagreed with his contemptuous stare and scrunched nose).
A moment passed.
“And if you win, my dear?”
“I want a written and signed letter from you stating that you lost our lanceboard game and that you were jealous of Puck.”
The huff that left him was not the humored kind.
“I agree to the terms of this match, and you are to forfeit should I get the slightest whiff of any tricks.”
“Good thing my sleight of hand work doesn’t smell,” Tav said before dramatically cracking her knuckles.
Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “No cheating of any kind, you fey-touched miscreant.”
Tav’s bright laugh filled the room, seemingly disarming her fiend of an opponent.
Her poor skills in strategy were likely to lose the match for her, but Tav was not bothered by the potential loss.
She’d won the more important game.
#I had a lot of fun with this!#thanks for the prompt!#my writing#raphael x tav#raphael x tav fanfiction#baldur’s gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#Warlock!Tav#raphael the cambion#Raphael bg3#Answered
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the albatross - m. murdock
a/n: hi everyone! so this is that weird and off putting reader i was mentioning earlier! she's not that weird but she's sort of odd so yeah. also i know bucky is the winter soldier but idk how else to tag this so oh well! i do have lore and stuff for readers time as a soldier so i'll include that in later installments! i was kind of in a writers block and this pushed me out of that. so enjoy! please please tell me what you thought and if you want more!
warnings: cursing, mentions of death, war, torture, pain, people being dead, reader having horrible people skills and ptsd, mentions of sex maybe? uhmmm in general reader is just sort of strange and this is her and matt's early relationship, so sorry if i missed anything !
word count: 3.6k
summary: you have spent the past ninety (give or take) years tortured and in pain. then, a handsome stranger comes into your life and changes everything.
pairing: matt murdock x winter soldier!fem!reader
now playing: the albatross - taylor swift
"i'm the albatross/i swept in at the rescue/the devil that you know/looks now more like an angel/i'm the life you chose/and all this terrible danger"
You’re working a morning shift at the bakery when he comes in. The pastries in the case are laid out just so, and you have been meticulously working on this sign for your fall specials. You are determined to focus on something that is not how poorly you slept, your hair tied up in a braid behind you as you work.
You’re determined to get these pumpkin stems drawn correctly; a green marker clenched in your hand. Your knuckles are white with the tension you are holding in your fingers. It’s around eight in the god damn morning, and you have been awake since around three a.m.
You don’t even hear the bell ring, nor do you hear the click-clacking of a cane on the tiled floors, you only hear an awkward clearing of the throat, to which you spin around, about to throw the marker at the customer, but stopping when you realize what you’re doing.
The customer smiles awkwardly at you, and you recognize instantly that between his glasses and cane, he is most definitely blind. You almost feel silly, until you remember everything, and you wish that there was more moments where you think you’re silly for being paranoid.
And there’s something else, too. You look at this man for a few moments, before realizing that he is so god damn hot. Which, is weird, because you have not felt anything for any man or woman in years, too busy focusing on other things, too busy thinking about everything that’s happened. But god, the stubble tracing his face, the way his dark hair falls, and the way his hand wraps around his cane..
But what gets you really is his lips. Maybe you’re staring, maybe you don’t care. But his lips are this pretty pink, and you find yourself getting lost in the nicest daydream you’ve had in a very long time..
And then, you snap out of that fantasy to remind yourself that you are working and don’t even know his name.
“Hi, sorry,” You cough awkwardly, “Was just focused,” You tell him, approaching the counter. You wipe your sweaty hands on your apron, before putting on your best ‘I’m a friendly bakery worker who just wants to sell you pastries, also tip me please!’ smile on. “What can I get you?” You ask.
“Do you guys have apple turnovers?” It is the first time this fall that is under 65 degrees, so you understand that there is some cravings for autumn snacks.
“Yeah, yeah,” You move towards the case to get some, “Just the one?”
“Three, actually. For the office.” He hums.
“Some big office,” Your voice is a sarcastic mumble, not really for the an to hear but he chuckles at it, and you almost think it’s weird that he an hear you but your brain tells you not to judge, since there is a whole lot the handsome stranger could judge you for.
“We’re a small business. Very friendly, very personable.”
You cannot help yourself, and you find yourself asking, “What sort of business are you in?” What the handsome stranger does not know is that you are insatiably angry at yourself for asking that because you had pretty much promised yourself that you were never going to have any sort of relationship—it wouldn’t be fair to them, it wouldn’t be fair to you. And as previously established, that wasn’t a problem, because you weren’t really attracted to anyone before this handsome stranger waltzed on into the bakery.
“I’m a lawyer.” He smiles. A lawyer.
“Well, Mr. Lawyer, your total is 10.75.” He pulls out a twenty and when you hand him change, he asks, “Which one is the five?” and you wordlessly pull out the five from the stack you handed him, before he puts the rest of the change in his wallet, dropping a five and a small card into your tip jar. “You have a good day now.” He hums, before making his way out of the bakery.
You watch intently, maybe a little too intently, and you hear the voice of your best friend from your teenage years in your head saying, ‘You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave.’ And a small smile finds its way to your face.
Then, you notice the card he dropped in the jar before fishing it out. On the front, it reads,
‘Matthew M. Murdock, Attorney at Law.’ On the back, you read,
‘Nelson, Murdock & Page, Attorneys at Law,
Hell’s Kitchen’
Accompanied by this is a phone number and an address.
You pocket the card, and before you know it, costumers are flooding in, and you ease into the day, forgetting about the handsome stranger until you leave the bakery at around six o’clock that night. You finish cleaning up from the day before letting the woman who works to prep for the next day. Then you leave, heading home to the too quiet, too small apartment.
You don’t have much in your apartment. You sleep with a gun under your pillow and you have a cheap TV on your dresser. You spend most of your time catching up on books or movies. You make yourself box mac and cheese before eating it right out of the pot, sitting on your kitchen floor.
As you cook the mac and cheese, you say his name over and over again, letting it sit on your tongue and escape your lips, thinking about him intently. You glance at your watch and decide that maybe it’s early enough that he might still be at his office.
You fish your tiny flip phone out of your pocket, dialing the number on the card and waiting. You’re holding your breath as the phone rings. A thought runs through your brain that maybe he gave you a wrong number and then your brain immediately reminds you that no man is ever going to give you his card, printed out, just to fuck with you.
“Nelson, Murdock & Page, how can I help you?” A voice asks, and you blink, hesitating for a minute.
“Uh, I’m looking for Matthew.” You say, and there’s some light shuffling, and again, this regret shoots over you until you hear a very smooth, very familiar voice,
“Hey,” His voice is like honey and you long to hear it clearer—The first time you’ve desired a better phone. “I was hoping you’d call.”
“Yeah, well, Maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”
“You know usually, that’s my line.”
“Wait, that works on people?” You hear his laugh on the other side of the phone and a shiver runs down your spine as you itch to make him laugh more.
“Telling people they’re beautiful doesn’t hit the same when you’re blind.”
“I guess not..” There’s a silence on his end of the phone, before he says,
“I never got your name.” For a moment, you consider giving him a fake name, but you find yourself giving him your name, the one that your parents gave you all those years ago. It’s foreign on your lips, a rare gem that you do not often give out. He repeats it and you swear you could almost die right then and there. “What are you doing tonight?”
You’re taken back by his forwardness, not anticipating that maybe this handsome stranger, Matthew, wants to be around you just as bad as you want to be around him. And then you look around at your dingy apartment, with your boxy TV, the gun under your pillow, and you, sitting on the floor of your kitchen, having just finished eating box mac and cheese with a wooden spoon that just for a second tastes like the one your mother used to cook with, the one you’d get tastes of sauces, soups, anything you could get your hands on.
And then you remember everything that happened after those days sneaking tastes of your mom’s cooking and you feel guilty for pursuing handsome Matthew, because he has no idea what he is getting into.
“Just finished dinner. Was planning on just relaxing.” Reading until around midnight and then getting an hour or two of sleep.
“Well, how about we go do something?” You detect a bit of hopefulness in his voice. You find yourself asking before you can stop yourself,
“Like, like a date?” And he laughs again.
“Yes, like a date.”
“I don’t know,” You start, “Usually I have to ask my father’s permission before I go out on the town with a boy.” You want to slap your hand over your mouth because you sound your age. Oh god.
“Really?”
“..No.” You hope he finds your weird, totally not a cover up, joke funny. And he laughs again, telling you,
“You’re funny.”
Yeah, really fucking hilarious.
“So, a date?”
“A date.” You consider this for a moment. A date might lead somewhere real. Somewhere dangerous. Somewhere you haven’t been in.. years. Years might be an understatement. Your heart thuds against your chest, and you find yourself full of that nostalgic thing you call desire.
“What would we do?”
“Anything you want.” He tells you.
“Anything? That’s dangerous.” Because this whole thing is dangerous, you want to tell him, maybe you should mention the whole age thing, the whole assassin thing, the whole brainwashing thing, the whole thing.
“Yeah? What dangerous things do you have in mind, doll?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear to breathe, because it feels like someone just took the winds out of your sails. Suddenly it is 1940 something and a boy is flirting with you, and you have to act like a lady in hopes that he will treat you right.
Odd thing to think about today, but you’re an odd person.
“What about ice cream and a bookstore?” You ask, and for a moment you want to hit yourself for not suggesting something cool like a club or something and then you realize that you have no idea what counts as a cool date in this day and age.
Did you know when you were a teenager and had the world at your fingertips, eighty (give or take) years ago?
But to your surprise, handsome Matthew just responds,
“That sounds nice. Do you want me to pick you up at your apartment?”
The idea of handsome Matthew being at your tiny apartment that is not suitable for a date makes your heart race.
“I’ll meet you at the ice cream place in an hour. You know the one near the bakery?”
“Yeah. See you then.”
“Yeah. See you.” And when you hang up, you realize just what has happened. For the first time since 1944, You have landed yourself a date with a handsome man that is genuinely interested in you and in your infinite wisdom decided that ice cream and books were the best way to impress him.. Books.. Blind man.
You lightly bang your head against the counter behind you, muttering to yourself how stupid that was. But you an only dwell on it for a moment before you are standing up and making your way over to your room to get ready.
You’re still in your work uniform. And you look like an idiot. So, you clean yourself up and pull on something presentable, something comfortable. There is no confusion as to the nature of this meet up, you two are going on a date and you asked a blind man to go to a bookstore. You feel like an asshole. And you’re aware that you’re putting emphasis on that, but still!
You go through outfits and outfits, trying to figure out what an appropriate outfit is for this first date. You end up in something casual, and you hope you’re not underdressed. Honestly, you know you’re making a fuss over something as standard as a date, but you are genuinely desperate to have this go well.
You finally decide on an outfit and make your way out the door, grabbing your jacket and stepping out of the apartment. You stop outside of your door before turning around and going back into your room to change your top.
But eventually, you do get to the ice cream place Matt and you had discussed on the phone. And there he is, in all his glory, wearing the same outfit he wore when you saw him in the bakery that morning, only, without his tie, and he looks more disheveled. Somehow it’s more charming to see him like this, more exhilarating to imagine a life with such a low stakes man (You’ll look back on this thought later and laugh)
“Hi,” You greet, and Matt smiles in your direction.
“Hi.” He hums, and again, you feel nervous! So, before he can say much else, you blurt out,
“So, This is my first date in a while.. So. Sorry about that.” You say awkwardly.
“A while?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious dog. You’re struck by the fact that he is around 70 years younger than you. “Like, a few months?”
A beat.
Handsome Matthew is much busier than you are, it seems.
“More like a couple of years.” And by ‘a couple’ you mean eighty some odd years, but Matt doesn’t need to know all of that right now. But he just hums and nods, before answering,
“That’s alright, I’ll be gentle.” Your face flushes, and with a nervous laugh, you ask,
“You mean we’ll take it slow?”
“Sure. Whatever. We’ll figure out the details of it all later.” His hand finds yours, and before you can protest he pulls you into the ice cream shop. Handsome Matthew orders chocolate chip cookie dough because he is perfect in every way, and you order..
“Butter pecan, please.” You get odd glances from Matthew and the seventeen year old minimum wage worker behind the counter, but neither of them say anything. You manage to beat Matthew to paying for the ice cream, and as you walk, he asks,
“Butter pecan? Really?” And you roll your eyes. Young people today, always judging.
“You’re lucky they didn’t have butterscotch, that’s my real favorite.” You respond, before taking a lick of the ice cream. Your handsome date, gives you another bizarre look.
“Okay, what’s your third favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Mm..” You take a few minutes to think about it, before deciding on your answer. “A tie between pistachio and coffee.” And at your answer, Matt laughs at you. You let out an offended gasp, although you’re not being serious, before asking, “what’s so horrible about that?”
“You have the ice cream preferences of an eighty year old,” He laughs and you laugh too, because oh, if only he knew.
“Sorry, my pallet is straight from the 40’s.” It’s a joke. That’s a joke. Not at all based in facts or actuality. You continue working through eating your ice cream and talking to your handsome date. “So, does the handsome lawyer have any family I should know about?”
“You think I’m handsome?” He grins, and your face flushes.
“Answer the question.”
“No siblings. My dad died when I was young and It’s only recently that I’ve been talking to my mother.” Interesting, you think, and then this dawning realization happens where you realize that the next thing out of his mouth will be the inevitable question, “How about your family?”
You consider lying but you decide against it. If this is going to lead anywhere good, you don’t want to base it off lies.
“Not much to say. I’m the sole survivor.” You shrug, keeping it vague. He frowns a bit before squeezing your hand.
“A couple of orphans, huh?”
You squeeze his back.
“Seems like it.”
You kind of aren’t over the death of your parents and your siblings and quite literally everyone you knew as a teenager and young adult—You’re not over so many fucking things that if you went through it all, you’d probably keep poor Handsome Matthew up all night.
But instead of talking about that, Matt finds himself walking with you to the bookstore. You hold the door open for him and begin to wander. You quickly move past the books on World War II, as if faced with an ex you want nothing to do with them.
You begin to look at the romance books, scrunching your nose at how cheesy and surface level so many of these young adult novels are. But then you remind yourself that you are a hundred years old. But you look like you’re in your late twenties, early thirties. As you’re looking at the books, Matthew makes his way to the aisle next to yours, and talks to you through the stacks.
“So, what’s your favorite book?”
“That’s like asking a mother her favorite child.” You answer quickly, and you hear him laugh. Your face flushes.
“Try for me.”
“Uh, I really love Great Gatsby. I’m kind of fascinated with the zombie genre, too, it’s sort of new and interesting, and uh, oh, I read this Neil Gaiman novel, uh, Stardust? I really liked that.” You confess. Matt listens as you fumble through novels, both of you making your way towards the end of the aisle.
“And movies?”
“Why is everything about me? I didn’t hear your favorite novel.”
“The Outsiders.” He responds, and you make a mental note to try and find it in the bookstore. “So, movies?”
You’ve had autonomy for around three years now, so.. Your movie knowledge has been kind of stunted, so you wrack your brain to try and come up with something impressive.
“I really like the Indiana Jones series, uh, oh, The Matrix, and..” You ponder your brain. “Oh! And King Kong!” You saw that one in the theatres for your thirteenth birthday.
“Like, the one that came out in 2017?” He asks, and again, you consider lying, because you actually have seen that one because when you looked up ‘King Kong’ it came out, and it really blew your mind how far CGI had come.
“No, the one that came out in ’33.” As if it is the most normal thing in the entire world.
“One of your favorite movies is one from 1933?” And the old woman in you wants to insist that you loved the decades you grew up in, and that seeing King Kong in the theatres was a marvelous thing because you could barely afford rent. And then you remember you shouldn’t reveal your history with the Great Depression to a man you’re on your first date with.
“Yup.” You assert, and ask, “You?”
“Star Wars, any of them, and the Princess Bride.” Again, you make a note to add it to your list.
“Interesting.” You hum, and you find The Outsiders, wanting to read it, to consume it, to consume him, and every thought he has. The two of you meet at the end of the aisle, too close to be platonic as his hands come to find your arms, and you shudder at the affection.
“Touch starved, huh?” He grins. You flush and roll your eyes.
“You’re so mean.” You huff, and he laughs. His hand moves up your arms and cups your jaw, enjoying the feeling of your warm cheeks.
“Well, you’re odd.”
“Odd?”
“Everything about you. Your movie tastes, your jokes, your ice cream flavors.” He hums, with a soft shrug. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m just.. Trying to figure you out.”
“You’d be the first to accomplish such a feat.”
He laughs at that, and he’s so beautiful.. That you cannot help yourself when you lean up and gently press a soft kiss to those beautiful pretty pink lips that had caught your attention that morning. He kisses you back, without hesitation.
You feel at peace for the first time in years, as if everything you had gone through, every moment of torture and pain, has been worth it because it leads you to this. To Handsome Matthew, who kisses you so tenderly that no matter how simple it is, you are left breathless and desperate for more. You lean into him, deepening the kiss, pushing him back a bit, his back pressed against the stacks. The book in your hands is crumpled, and eventually, Matthew pulls away, before pushing you back a bit.
“Easy,” He says breathlessly, and you need the reminder, because you try to catch your breath. Holy shit. “Easy, easy..” he repeats, his hands rubbing up and down your arms a bit. “I’ve got you, just breath.” He laughs, and you lean your forehead against your shoulder. Fuck.
“When can I see you again?” Is your only thought, and he chuckles gently.
“Whenever you want.” He promises, and you nod, before leaning up to kiss him again.
One day you’ll tell him everything. You’ll tell him all of the horrible things you’ve done and have had done to you, and you’ll tell him why the nightmares came, and why they won’t ever go away. One day, you’ll tell handsome Matthew why you sleep with a gun under your pillow and why you have no family and why you are so odd.
For now, you decide that you deserve a few nice things.
And when he kisses back, you realize that maybe he is just as infatuated with you as you are with him. Maybe. Maybe he is full of secrets and his own horrors that plague him while he sleeps, and maybe that’s the unspoken reason you are so deeply fascinated with one another.
Maybe.
Maybe you’ve spent the past ninety years going from fight to fight, to nightmare to nightmare. Maybe you’re owed some time in the sun with Handsome Matthew.
Maybe.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#daredevil fic#daredevil fanfiction#matt murdock fic#daredevil#matt murdock fluff#winter soldier!reader#tortured reader#super soldier reader#matt murdock fanfiction#daredevil fluff#daredevil x reader#netflix daredevil#matt murdock fanfic
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hello!! I miss your old work with the villain Bill so much.. Please write something with the villain Bill! I don't care what it will be:smut/fluff/angst; whatever, but just please! If you don't want to write for this anymore, then I'll understand! I love you very much!!💖🫂
I would like to hug you too! it's so cute!!😭🥹
oh, you're so adorable!!! of course <33
i missed writing villain bill too ^^
slight nsfw! not smut.
˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 villain! bill x fem! reader angst -> fluff
once upon a time, you were in love with your husband. he was a strong, gentle soul, who used his power for good. he didn't care about reputation, only about doing what was right.
he was a handsome, healthy man, with a heart of gold. loved by all, and despised by his arch nemesis. you remembered the wedding ceremony, how the white drapery decorated the church, how you walked down the aisle with your long train of ivory behind.
you were a happy, excited woman, who was ready to accompany her loving husband every step of the way.
but as time went on, he began to change. once that man with a sunny smile, turned into what could be described as a modern-day monster. an abomination of man.
he swore to never drink, but there he was, downing a can of ice cold beer. he swore to never use his power for evil, yet there he was, threatening the life of a man just for a night at the bar.
he swore to love you, yet he wound up spewing insults after insults to you, over the smallest of mistakes. he swore to never raise a hand and forever protect you, but he ended up breaking glass bottles over your head.
the man who you married was no longer. you didn't know what else to do anymore. you married young; a horrible mistake, and you didn't know what the world could hand you.
he had gotten so lazy, that his own attempts at saving your life grew lackluster. sometimes it'd take him weeks to get his butt off a chair to save you from his arch nemesis's hands.
even he began to question your worth in the eyes of this glorious hero.
his arch nemesis, Bill, was a man who used his power for evil. robbing banks, burning establishments, kidnapping, murder, stealing priceless goods...you name it, he's done it.
but even though he was considered evil, you had never met a man who worried for you more. your mother in law would tell you to suck it up in favour of her grown manchild.
your father in law praised his son, your husband, for his abusive treatment towards you. your own parents left you on seen for multiple days when you messaged them about it.
but Bill...oh, not Bill. never him.
he treated you sweetly. he was the first to ask if anything was going on at home. he cared for you during the weeks it took for your husband to save you.
it left you wanting to stay with Bill instead.
the feeling was gut wrenching. you really, really didn't know what to do. you were legally wed to this man, this horrid man, and yet you were wishing to be with his enemy instead.
you yearned for his hands to touch yours again, for his sweet voice to whisper, "it's okay." in your ear once more.
just once more, and it'd be fine.
you even began to wish to be abducted by him every other day. you'd wish for his monstrous creation to infiltrate the city and grab you by the waist, to bring you back to his evil lair.
the sun was covered by the clouds. the sky was a grey that made you think of Bill. the dishes in your hands slipped, and clattered on the floor, shards of pure white china scattering on the floor.
the loud clash brought you back to reality. your husband stepped in and upon seeing the mess, he yelled, "YOU USELESS BITCH! CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT!? DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE THIS IS!?"
his hand wrapped around your hair, scraming in your ear as you held in tears, "THIS IS WORTH MORE THAN YOU! MORE THAN YOUR HEART, YOUR LIVER, YOUR EYES! DO YOU WANT ME TO GUT YOU OPEN AND GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES!?"
"no, no, I'm sorry," you apologised, choking back cries, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."
"sorry, sorry, sorry. what more are you good for than being a heater for my bed, bitch?" he sneered, "maybe I should make sure you never make this mistake again."
he knelt down and grabbed a shard of the broken china, and dug the sharp tip into your forearm. you screamed in pain as he dragged it down, forming a long, red wound.
it bled as he threw the shard on the floor and said, "do you understand now, whore? you disgusting slut...I don't even want to see your ugly face. you plague every inch of me."
"I'm not coming home." he said, turning around and leaving the house, probably to go to yet another brothel.
tearfully, you sat in the kitchen, helpless and abandoned. but you had to do something about the painful wound on your forearm. so you stood, and fished through the first aid cabinet to get the things you needed to fix the injury.
as you did so, you couldn't help but remember how Bill would do it for you. his gentle, skilled hands, wrapping the gauze around your thigh that held an obvious carving of his name.
the way he would hold your hand when the pain grew too worse. he brought you a sense of comfort. and you wanted him, despite how his morals were.
𓆩♱𓆪
it was just another monday. you had to run to the grocery shop for a quick errand of eggs and milk. the nights had grown worse, your body felt sluggish from the unending abuse, the eyebags under your eyes made a raccoon green with envy.
you finished your purchase and you left the grocery store, checking your eggs and milk, looking through the receipt so there was no unauthorised purchases that you didn't know about.
suddenly, a loud scream reverberated around the city. you snapped your head towards the direction of the scream, only to be greeted by a loud explosion.
you tried to back away, but you suddenly felt someone gripping your waist and pulling you away. people tried to fight against the perpetrator stealing you, but you noticed the hands.
the black french manicure, the black fingerless leather gloves...the distinct 'Freiheit '89' covered by the black sleeve...it was Bill.
your knight in shining armour. your saviour. your safety.
you couldn't help but rest your head against his shoulder as he brought you back into where you truly belonged—his evil lair.
when you heard the sound of metal doors moving open and closing, you knew you were back. he whispered in your ear, "seems like you're enjoying this, schatz."
you grew bashful, "sorry."
"no need to be sorry. there's a new wound I see." he responded, bringing you into his mansion and placing you onto a couch.
"yeah. I broke an expensive china, and..." you looked away, not wanting to remember the memory.
he looked at you pitifully, and gently placed his hand into yours, "other than that wound, is there anything else?"
"no, it's the usual." you whispered, looking down at him while he went on one knee to look at you properly.
his hand brushed against your cheek. your heart drummed in anticipation. his hand moved to your hair and gently combed his fingers through it.
"how could he ever do such a thing to you?" he asked softly, "a girl like you deserves to have everything."
"you're too beautiful to be left with a man like him." he said, looking into your eyes as he placed his lips upon your knuckles.
you blushed, "Bill, this is wrong..."
"I know what's wrong and what's right. I'm doing you a favour, meine liebe, say you'll go with me." he stated, "I'll treat you better."
"I'll love you better." he whispered, "and you just be mine."
your heart melted. he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours, his lips inches away from yours. it was as if he read your mind when he kissed you.
sparks flew. you felt weak inside. you couldn't help but return the kiss, holding him closer. when you and him pulled away, he whispered, "say you'll go with me, bitte."
you nodded shakily, and whispered, "I will."
𓆩♱𓆪
"I will, Bill." you said, peering into his pretty brown eyes as the priest stared at you two in horror.
he smiled and laughed, holding you close. his lips met yours, his hand upon your waist, and the gloomy day outside was simply the best weather to have a wedding like this.
he held you close, before saying, "do you want to do it or should I?"
you shook your head, "you do it, darling."
"of course, schön." he said, pulling out his revolver and pointing it at your ex-husband's head, shooting him point blank.
remains of his brain flew everywhere. a hole in his head, empty like his vows to you, his eyes crossed as blood trickled down his nose.
you sighed and said, "maybe aim somewhere more humane next time."
"yes, meine liebe, I'll aim for an artery next time." he reassured, kissing your forehead, "I love you."
"I love you too." you responded, kissing his cheek back.
and now, you can finally have your happy ending.
#tokio hotel#y2k#bill kaulitz#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz x you#fluff#bill kaulitz fluff#angst#angst with a happy ending#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel fluff#tokio hotel fanfic
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accidentally deleted the ask from kitty anon elaborating on tutor!changbin but it’s most definitely on my mind ><. something about buff men in glasses.. and he’s smart too!! i wouldn’t doubt that he’d let you sit on his lap, dick buried inside you while he lectures you through the material, thorough and patient as if he wasn’t burning to rock his hips against you. his large arms would encage your own body, guiding you through the lesson, and it feels as safe as it gets having his chest pressed onto your back, his voice sultry and low against your ear.
on the opposite end, if he’s got the time to spare, he wouldn’t hesitate to tease you. bin likes to have his two fingers buried deep in your cunt, thumb just barely rubbing at your clit, all while he’s reading the questions off the pages like nothing was wrong. gotta study at the campus library? he’s already ahead of the game, asking you to slip a vibrator into your panties that he’d left at the lowest temperature, gradually increasing the speed and intensity each time you’d get something wrong. your head would be pounding by the time you manage to complete the assingment, and changbin can tell how much you’re holding back.
expect to have his cock pounding into you while you’re bent over the table when the session is done, allowing you to render brain dead on his dick after studying so hard. he’ll fuck you until he knows you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the feeling of him stretching you out, watching himself slip in and out of your cunt through the fogged lenses that rested on the tip of his nose. binnie loves telling you how proud he is of you all while his thrusts push his cum from your hole, letting it run down your thighs while his large hands grasp your waist. he takes a lot of pride knowing that your marks always end up significantly higher, though he refuses to tutor anyone except you.
#struggled so bad in math earlier today and all i could think of was how sexy changbin is#like i love a man that understands math…. ooo you want me so bad#he’s just SO handsome in glasses too ><#my life would be so much easier if i had changbin as a tutor#changbin x reader#changbin smut#skz x reader#skz smut#changbin imagines#changbin drabbles#skz imagines#skz drabbles#stray kids smut
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biting is a love language biting is a love language Biting Is A Love Language-
#gee... how come barnaby gets to bite His best friend but i cant bite MY besties... so unfair...#obsessed with the mental image of wally latching on like a bulldog#and just. Not Letting Go.#he is Reciprocating. he is Expressing His Affection Barnaby Style. what do you mean hes Holding On Too Tight#idk i think id compliment barn's new earring. its a handsome little thing#the sillies....#they continue to make me So fucking emotional <3#scribble salad#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#name a better pair of best friends you caaaaaanttttttttt you simply Cannot!!!!#wailing sobbing eating glass etc
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He deserves a bit of everything, as a treat (Patreon)
#Doodles#Wander Over Yonder#Commander Peepers#Up front - that first one was very inspired by one of Kurole's sketches of him - absolutely spectacular use of shapes ahhh <3 <3#His iris dripping directly into his tears?? Excuse me I die immediately#I did a full study later since as noted that one was from memory lol - not quite! Kurole's shapes are so pretty ♪#Peeps' shapes are some of the funnest to move around! He's so stretchy and squishy lol#He's so fun to pose#At first I was just going to doodle Peeps in the outfit the Watchdogs drew him in for The Cartoon because cute!#But I figured it'd be easier if started with the actual shapes they used - dissect how they lay on each other and all that#Turns out the bean form is also very cute hehe <3 They can try to make him as stereotypically dorky as they want! He's still the cutest!#He is quite handsome in the same outfit at his usual proportions tho#Not me always enjoying characters in glasses/putting characters in glasses#Of all the features I myself have that'd be the last one I would expect to be So about lol#Plus the little heels on his boots?? I can't believe the Watchdogs were Completely making a mockery of him hehe ♪#Maybe mocking him a little bit for being short but he loves heels! He loves feeling tall!#And they match his shirt? Fashionable all the way around ✨#Last one of him on Ziziks and trying(? maybe?? Lol maybe not) to relax#Open tourist-y shirt over loose swim trunks >>>#Gotta dork it up with the visor gloves and boots tho lol hopefully he put on sunscreen too#What would burnt Watchdog skin look like anyhow :0 Redder?#You just know he's still on call even if he managed to get some time off - and if he was forced off he's on call by choice lol#Little workaholic
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HIS SMILE...
#this is so embarrassing aksjajsjs i'm so down bad!!#his hair.. his smile... his stupid voice...#im this 🤏 close to putting him on the f/o list#since uh. i dont think someone usually thinks about kissing their sworn enemy on the lips and cuddling him as much as this lol#ash rambles 💚#he's so handsome!!! and honestly kinda cool and smart... damn you a.khos!!! stole my heart!!!!!!#we have a lot in common too ajsjajs other than dumbass writer theater kids-#us both wearing red glasses 🤝#man... i wanna kiss him so bad... he lives in my mind 24/7#the x.enoblade rot is actually so real#him and d.unban play ping pong with my singular braincell all the time ajsjajsj#his smile is just so cute!!!!!! never thought i#'d be calling such a little shit a cutie but just look at him!!!!! i wonder what it would take to make him smile like that hehe#i mean. hey. anything to make him happy-#gah thats so cheesy#i have it so bad for him!!! (swoons) what a guy..#he's so horrible but... maybe we can be minor villains... together?#ahem-
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just got jumpscared (positive) by ricardo montalban in a colour episode of the man from uncle, i thought he was only in it as satine!!!
#he's a suave and charming jewel thief in this one though so i'm choosing to believe he's satine undercover#and napoleon is just too bad at his job to glean from context (since he is admittedly very bad at his job)#nat.txt#tmfu tv lb#so VERY handsome with his little red cardigan draped over his shoulders. overshadows napoleon's benoit blanc glass onion look
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I still remember I didn’t watch the Nin//tendo direct the night before, and in the middle of literature class when my friends were talking about it, I was approached with the question, “Freya, what do you think of Byakuya’s washboard abs?”
And I forever associate this cursed image with that memory. They did point out I was very red at the mere idea of its existence... I didn’t even know it was noticeable I blushed that much, haha.
I’m a lot happier with the sprites, but I love this outfit more ^-^ (we’ll loose the effboy necklace though LMAO it’s not him,,, but it does add a good balance to the overall outfit? I don’t know, hehe)
When I get done damn rest I’m redrawing this, beware of my lack of knowledge on drawing men shirtless /lh
#my first reaction was ‘I can see the reason why he would... but I think athletes muscles would be mor suiting for his alleged -#-‘ ultimate athletic ability’ he claims to have.’#and I was right - that’s what they gave him because I know my husband. I’m just that good /lh#I’ve too you all that story a yes back but it’s so funny I’m sorry#Freya draw later#I like his sun glasses a lot though - and his pose - he’s very handsome ^-^ he’s hair is so soft ^-^#Hands 0///0 I will say nothing....#he looks cute here - okay????#hug hours
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Men In Uniform F*ck Better!
Synopsis. You want him and you want him now. It doesn’t matter if you have to fúck him in his uniform - in fact, it just might make it better.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] professor! Gojo x Reader, yakuza boss! Sukuna x Reader, calligrapher! Geto x Reader, baker! Nanami x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, oral (male + female receiving), men at work, manhandling, marking, slight gúnplay, degradation, smacking, choking, Sukuna is mean but he’s a yakuza boss so, spitting, semi-public, brat-taming, bunch of heinous stuff idek, cúmplay, slight foodplay, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.6k
A/N. Was gonna add Choso and Toji but this got too long, dw I’ll make separate ones about them later <3
♡ NANAMI KENTO - The baker
Watching Nanami Kento at work could make even the most ardent non-believers worship God.
Kneading. Spreading. Every motion of his strong hands deliberate and purposeful. Muscles rippling in his forearms with each movement.
You watch - almost hypnotized - as the devilishly handsome baker at your favorite bakery prepares his dough for tomorrow. By God were you glad you managed to bat your lashes just enough to convince him to let you stay after closing - for educational purposes, of course.
Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily as long fingers sink deep into the dough, squeezing. Pulling. Teasing. A delicate bead of sweat trickling down between his furrowed brows and disappearing enticingly between those chiseled collarbones. Oh, how you wished it was you under his hands instead.
“How long’s it gonna take? I see the way you’re watching me, y’know.”
A low rumble breaks the silence, sending tremors down your spine - all the way to your already-heated cunt. Eyes snapping up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones, your face burns at being caught red-handed. Stammering out excuses, “W-wha- I didn’t-”
Soft dough now forgotten, he steps closer, presence overwhelming, dominating the space around you. “Always do. Watching me with such slutty eyes.” Low words that make your pussy throb. You’re dumbfounded by his eyes, intense and stripping - making you feel so exposed and vulnerable before him.
In the dimly lit kitchen, the tension is palpable. You can’t help but lean into his presence, standing toe-to-toe with his muscled front.
With a slight smirk curling his lips, Nanami leans in, his breath warm against your ear and making you shudder in anticipation. “But don’t worry, darling. I like it.”
They’re the last words said before he pulls you into a searing kiss, a hand tight around your neck, neat fingernails digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him as his tongue demands entry, intertwining with yours. It’s possessive, it’s feral - and tastes oh so very sweet - just like his delicate pastries.
Nanami breathes you in like a man starved. A desperation that carries into your frantic fingers untying that godforsaken apron.
And in his steady hands as they lift you up as if you weigh nothing, fingers groping and kneading your ass as he seats you on the kitchen counter. The surface cold under where your skirt was messily bunched up. “Mm- hngh- please, Nanami.”
Pulling away with a final bite to your lower lip, he leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down your body that send chills racing through you, and have your thighs rubbing together for an ounce of friction.
“Tch” Of course, he wasn’t a fan. Grip bruising, manhandling your legs open so shamefully, he splays you out deliciously for him. Nanami’s greedy gaze devours the sinful way your dripping cunt leaks through your thin panties - ones you wore especially for him.
Seems he knew too, pushing his glasses up contemplatively before dropping onto his knees with a fucked out oh. “Always knew you were naughty, darling, but to be such a slut? Driving me crazy, hm?” his voice thick with desire and whispered mere millimeters away from your swollen folds.
Moaning softly, you arch your back into the warm breath hitting your quivering cunt, whining out an embarrassed “Noo- only for you, Nanami.”
“Oh yeah?” Huffing out a dark chuckle, he all but rips off your soaked panties. The tattered fabric stark against the sterile floor. You gasp at the cold air that hits your heated cunt - but not for long, because Nanami’s hot mouth is on it like a man dying of thirst.
Nose-deep in your pussy, the cold metal of his glasses makes you flinch in sensitivity. His hands spread your cunt bruisingly, letting his tongue bully it’s way past your folds, urgently lapping at your juices as if you were the sweetest damn thing he’s ever tasted.
Chin hitting your cunt, nose rubbing against your pulsing clit, he makes out with your sloppy pussy in methodical, merciless movements of his tongue that have you keening and bucking your hips for more more more.
Looking up at you over his glasses, his hungry gaze devours your half-lidded eyes, the grip searing on his hair, and the whimpers of his name leaving your swollen lips just as greedily as the mouth on your slutty cunt.
“Wanted this right, darling?” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Vibrations making slick bead out of your cunt and pool onto his waiting lips. “Wanted to break under my hands?”
“Yes. Yes, yes yes, s’all I’ve wanted.” teary whimpers leave your bruised lips, you craved the sting of his hands, the burn of his fingers. Your hips buck uncontrollably, grinding yourself against his mouth as he sucks your clit into his mouth.
Hands now groping every inch of skin he could find, leaving pretty purple marks that remind you of his mouth-watering pies.
Exploring every curve and valley, bending you to his will, languid where his tongue was merciless. Savoring you. Groping your breasts, squeezing your ass, as if he wanted everything all at once.
Your entire body was sore now. Cunt throbbing in sympathy with the tender flesh. Marks littering your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves. Ah, all these weeks you’d been right - heaven really was in Nanami Kento’s hands. And right now you were putty in them.
He grasped your thighs, squeezing them roughly and lifting them higher, opening you wider for his unforgiving pace. Clearly enjoying the way your face contorted in pain and pleasure, Kento slipped a finger inside you. One. Then two. Stretching you to your limits. Spreading open your already-stretched entrance further.
His fingers frantic now, fucked-out, jerky movements. Wilder. Animalistic. Driving you closer and closer to the edge.
“Open your mouth.”
You listen - drunk on his tongue as yours lolls out so lewdly. The taste hits you before the realization - sweet sugar and the taste of you on your tongue as two thick fingers are shoved into your mouth. They reach the back of your throat, pressing hard onto your tongue. You force yourself to fight off the gagging as some animalistic part of you sucks desperately on them for the sweet, sweet taste.
“Almost as sweet as you.” Nanami groans, words muffled into your cunt and sending white-hot pleasure racing up your spine. Words hanging in the air, he speeds up the movements of his mouth, frantic movements matching your need for more.
Your climax hits you with a jolt, cumming till you see stars behind your eyes. Maybe it was his words, maybe it was the way his tongue quirked just right on your throbbing clit to make you throw your head back as you fell apart underneath him.
“Hngh- Oh fuck, Nanami. M’cum- cumming!” you whine, grinding your cunt down impossibly harder on his pretty face. Fingers tangled in his silky blond locks as you force him deeper, riding out your high greedily.
You’re still dazed - vision blurry as Nanami pulls away from your cunt with a lewd squelch! getting up from his position kneeling on the floor. “So delicious on m’tongue, darling.”
Devastatingly handsome face flushed, breaths ragged, muscled front now pressing against your sinfully spread legs. And in your orgasm-hazed mind you still manage to hear the arousing clink of a belt unbuckling, and the metallic screech against marble of the nearby bowl of your favorite frosting being pulled closer. White - to match the precum dribbling down his leaking cock.
The distinct feeling of something wet and achingly hard against your needy cunt.
Oh.
Ah, it really was a sweet, sweet life.
♡ GETO SUGURU - The calligrapher
You didn’t exactly think the live calligraphy show your friend dragged you to was about to have you on the edge of your seat.
But here you were.
Eyes locked on the way the tall figure onstage, clad in a dark yukata - sinfully slipping off to reveal a milky, toned shoulder. Geto Suguru exudes an air of raw sexuality that the entire audience was aware of, eyes not being able to decide between the masterpiece on the canvas or the masterpiece of a man on stage.
His fingers, long and agile, effortlessly over the bamboo pen. Each stroke a sensual caress, dark eyes pools of desire that match his long, flowing locks, and the inky characters on the page.
Chest heaving with passion, with a final, dramatic sweep of his arm, Geto completes the last stroke. And as the audience erupts into applause, you merely stay rooted to your seat, thighs pressing together and breath caught in your throat - only one thought ringing in your mind.
You just had to have him.
Which is why you found yourself following your friend to the chaotic atmosphere backstage. But despite the buzz of activity, you could still hear Geto’s deep, velvety voice carrying through the crowd.
Pushing through the sea of people, “Ah! Long time no see, Geto-san. This is my friend, she really enjoyed your performance tonight,” your friend introduced, gesturing towards you.
Eyes gleaming he turns to you, “Oh, is that so?”
“Yeah, I enjoyed it very much.” you grin, batting your lashes. Relishing in the way Geto’s dark eyes appraise you from head to toe. Taking in every inch of you - and you do the same.
Geto’s eyes harden, as if deciding on something. “I’m flattered. Why don’t you two lovely ladies join me for some drinks with the crew?”
Yeah, you had to have him - you just didn’t think that would be so easy.
Walls lined with paintings, the scent of ink and sin hung heavy in the air, as you two snuck away from the animated group downing celebratory shots. Geto’s hand hot in yours as he leads you down a dimly-lit corridor to “his favorite lil’ spot”, as he’d whispered to you.
You could tell you were getting closer - because Geto promptly pulls you closer, hands grasping your waist possessively.
“No turning back now, pretty girl.” he whispers, breath hot against your ear.
“S’all I want, Suguru.” you mutter, desire coursing through you like a wildfire, pooling into something sticky and hot at your cunt.
Perhaps seeing the pure, feral need in your eyes, Suguru murmurs, leaving no room for disagreement now, “Follow me.”
The room he led you to was heady with seductive candles, beautiful artwork lining the walls. His own - you assume, as Suguru leads you to a low wooden table in the center of the room. On it is a bottle of sake and two cups.
Movements fluid and precise, Suguru pours the sake, filling it to the brim. He hands it to you, eyes never leaving your face. “Drink up, pretty girl.” he hums, low and seductive. And honestly fuck stranger danger, how could you not when he looks at you like that?
So you drink, sake burning its way down your throat. Predatory eyes locked on you as you set down the cup, Suguru’s mouth quirks up into a sly grin around his as he asks, “Liked it?”
You’ve barely gotten out the nod - not trusting yourself to speak - before Suguru downs his shot abruptly, slamming down the cup with a thunk!
Lips parting slightly, slender fingers squish your cheeks together into an almost-embarrasing pout. Forcing you to look up at him with an almost predatory grace as he looms closer. You don’t know if you should’ve expected the steady, warm stream of sake and saliva that hits your tongue. Sliding so obscenely down your throat.
Guess Suguru Geto was filthy in bed where he was the embodiment of grace in public.
It’s sweet on your tongue - both the sake and Suguru.
Eyes glassy, a mixture of sake and drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth - Suguru really can’t help the lips that come crashing down on yours, tongue plunging deep into your mouth. His tongue was relentless, keeping yours intertwined in a heady kiss.
Arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to his heated body. Hands tugging on your hair, mapping your curves. All the way up to cup your breasts, thumbs running tight, little circles around your perked nipples.
You moan into the heated kiss as something rock-hard pokes your thigh. Hand greedily grabbing at his yukata with the need for more.
Breaking the kiss, Suguru’s breaths come in ragged gasps. “On your knees, pretty girl.”
And what Geto Suguru wants, Geto Suguru gets.
Which is why you were sat, eyes hungry and greedily watching the way Suguru slowly, and deliberately peels open the front of his yukata, exposing his toned torso. A sly grin curling his lips at you gape at his leaking cock, standing proud and achingly hard. Thick and unforgiving.
Fuck, could you really take him in your mouth? He was at least twice as big as anyone else you’ve been with before…
“Open.” he orders, voice low and commanding and making your cunt clench so deliciously in anticipation. Suguru’s flushed tip pokes your lips - glossy with sake and saliva - precum salty on your tongue. God, he was huge. Parting your mouth wider, lips stretching around his length you desperately try to fuck him into your mouth - eager to please.
But it just wasn’t enough.
Because Suguru has a searing grip on your hair, holding your head steady as he pushed his cock all the way down your throat. Delicate veins throbbing against the roof of your mouth as he starts up a steady, merciless pace fucking your mouth as if you were nothing but a fucktoy.
“C’mon now, you said s’all you want. Better act like it, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, pushing you impossibly further down so that your nose presses into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. Like delicate strokes of a fine art. Breathing in the heady, masculine scent so sinfully.
This man is a masterpiece, you think deliriously - completely cock-drunk as you gag around his length, eyes burning at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. Over and over. A ceaseless cadence you were losing your mind to.
“Oh, fuck. Yeah, jus’ like that.” he hisses, as you tongue at his slit. Fingers deftly pressing around your neck to feel his dick ramming down your throat.
The once-serene room rings with your pathetic, wet gurgles around Suguru’s cock and the smacking of skin on skin as his heavy balls hit your chin. “Take it, take it all.”
You moan, body arching as you claw at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Nails digging neat lines down his milky skin. Balls tightening, he thrusts animalistically into your mouth, each one deeper and harder than the last, cock sliding in and out of you brutally.
Messy.
Saliva and precum drip down his length, dirtying his yukata. Tears streak down your cheeks onto Suguru’s wrist, fingers tightening ferally around your throat. Blood roaring in your ears, choking at both the throbbing cock and the hand blocking your airway.
It was so fucking messy.
So it only made sense that Suguru’s orgasm was the same.
With a guttural cry of your name, Suguru came in hot spurts of cum, shooting rope after rope down your ready throat as his cock pulsed and stuttered in your mouth. You felt so dirty, his seed pooling on your tongue.
But he wasn’t done - no, far from it - pulling out from your abused mouth with a lewd pop! Twitching cock heavy on your face as he paints your face white. Hips bucking deliriously, a smug smirk playing on his lips at his masterpiece.
Face and mouth covered in his cum, fucked out enough that you basically had heart eyes looking at Suguru, you ready yourself to swallow it all. Needing to taste Suguru immediately.
Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.
Because Suguru drops to his knees, hand still tight around your throat as he captures your lips with his. Teeth clashing, lips bruising, forcing his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself. Tasting you. It was absolutely animalistic.
A barely-lucid, disappointed whine leaves your swollen lips as he pulls away. Only to spit once. Twice. Three times on your face.
You flinch as wads of saliva and his cum hit your face, warm and dripping down your cheeks. Staining the pristine tatami mats below as they fall with a resounding tap! tap! tap!
And you gladly offer yourself up for the abuse. A fucked out smile spreading across your face as you take in the feeling of being so debauched by Suguru.
Somewhat-delirious, you barely register the dark mutter against your ear, “Hope you’re not tapping out yet, pretty girl. I haven’t even gotten out my paintbrushes yet.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The yakuza boss
“Strip.”
Standing in the dimly lit room, red-hot irritation flashes behind your eyes as you bristle at the words falling out of his mouth - devastatingly handsome had it not been for that smug, leering smirk.
Eyes half-lidded, long legs spread on that gaudy armchair, smoke falling from Sukuna’s lips as he stares at you intently. Eyes piercing through yours over his cigar. Demanding compliance.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you rip your gaze from his, flitting panickedly between the imposing yakuza boss in front of you - all alluring tattoos, and heavy, gold rings - and the glinting pistol that lay silently on one, muscular thigh.
You can feel the heat of his gaze burning into your skin as your hands tremble, fumbling with those tedious buttons. Breathing heavy, nipples hardening - your top hits the floor. God, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into.
Cursing your father’s debt, you move on to your pants. Desperately trying to avoid catching a glimpse of those blown-out pupils, something prickly and hot pooling in your stomach. Shit. You won’t start liking this - you refuse to start liking this.
One by one, it falls away. Leaving you bare and completely exposed under Sukuna’s intense scrutiny. A low growl escapes his lips at the way your thighs clench together so sinfully, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
“Come here, doll.” Low, raspy words that go straight to your cunt. But you steel yourself, heels clacking against the polished floor as you step closer. And closer. Watching the way he drinks in your naked form.
But apparently too slow.
Before you can even react, a muscled arm reaches out, pulling you to fall into his waiting lap, straddling those toned hips. A jolt of electricity going through your body as you register the cold metal of the gun digging into your leg.
Sukuna leans forward, the scent of tobacco and sin overwhelming your senses. “Dance f’me.”
Shit. How dare he talk to you this way - and how dare you let your pussy clench in anticipation at his demeaning tone.
Biting back a groan at the way your hardened nipples brush against his button-up, you tentatively roll your hips forward. A thrill going straight to your pussy as something long and thick presses against you. Involuntarily, you press closer, grinding against him. Hard.
Large, calloused hands find your ass. Squeezing roughly to pull you closer, rocking your hips back and forth on his throbbing erection. Back and forth back and forth back and-
Cool metal pressed against your skin - the barrel of his glinting gun pressed lightly against your forehead. Goosebumps erupt down your spine, painfully prickling at your skin as you realize just what the fuck he was doing. “As much as I love you humping me like a bitch in heat, doll. I asked you to dance f’me.” he murmurs, tone was positively dripping with something dark and dangerous.
Well, you think, gritting your teeth in determination. Might as well give the bastard what he asks for.
Staring defiantly right into those darkened, intense eyes, you begin moving your body agonizingly slow. Hands tantalizingly tracing the outline of your body. Teasingly caressing the skin, sliding your fingers along your collarbone, down your rib cage, grazing your navel before slithering lower. Lower.
Your soaked cunt forming a wet patch right on his straining erection.
Sukuna’s eyes follow your every move - every circle of your hips down on his throbbing bulge. The corner of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he takes in the sight of you so sinful and shamefully exposed for him.
The desire simmering beneath his composed exterior is basically palpable.
And then, it snaps.
Suddenly, his arm snaps up, grabbing bruisingly at your waist. With a slow, deliberate motion, he takes a long drag of his cigar - blowing the smoke right in your face, the warm breath mingling with the heady air.
Your surprised gasp is swallowed by his heated kiss, tongues wrestling as a hand digs into the tender skin of your neck. As if he owns you.
Hips bucking wildly, and more frantically on Sukuna’s clothed cock - the expensive fabric of his pants now wet with your slick and his precum. You lose yourself in the moment.
But what you do register is the sharp unzipping of his pants.
Snapping your eyes open, they meet with the large, leaking cock now pulsing in his hands, prominent veins glistening with precum that dribbles down his flushed head. Pulling away, you rip your gaze from his throbbing erection to look in his eyes - with what, fear? Anticipation? Both?
Sukuna lounges back on his armchair leisurely, relishing the way you watch - somewhat-awestruck - as his large hand begins moving in small, unhurried motions up and down his rock-hard length.
A harsh push of the barrel against your forehead snaps you out of your debauched reverie. “Didn’t tell ya to stop, did I, doll?” he hisses out, venomous and needy.
The tension in the room is almost tangible, the air thick with lust and fear. As you watch the rhythmic jerks of Sukuna’s hand on his erect cock - up and down up and down up and- your body betrays you.
Mind hazy with arousal, you place your hands on his shoulders, cunt clenching at the strong, defined muscle beneath your fingertips. You lean forward, lips meeting his in a desperate, desperate kiss.
Pulling away, you reach for his heavy cock, wrapping your fingers around it, feeling it’s thickness and the heat. Sukuna lets out a low growl, eyes closing momentarily as you begin to stroke him in urgent, desperate tugs that have his hips bucking involuntarily.
As you let him fuck your fist like his own personal fleshlight, you grind down against his thigh. Hard. His tight, twitching ball stimulating your clit just right as you get yourself off on Sukuna like a bitch in heat.
Maybe it was the pure feral need in your hazy eyes - or maybe it was the way you lean your head into the gun pressing against your forehead - but Sukuna’s eyes widen, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. Only growing more amused by the second as you lean impossibly closer to take the cigar from his hand, placing it between your lips.
Drawing deeply, inhaling the sweet, rich flavor of the tobacco. As you exhale, you deliberately blow the smoke into his face, the tendrils of vapor swirling around his beautiful features, mixing with the sweat and the scent of his cologne.
A deep bark of laughter makes Sukuna throw his head back - and you to clench around nothing on his lap. Hips becoming more and more animalistic against his. Your wrist now aching and wet with precum, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off.
Sukuna wraps his arm around you, pulling you close, his hand cupping your breast possessively. The other surges back with the gun on your forehead - where it had been faltering from pleasure before. “Make us come within the next five seconds before I blow your head off, doll.”
One.
Your fingers tighten around his cock, milking him. Movements from both ends become more and more filthy with the need to release.
Two.
You cup his heavy balls in your hands, clit catching on his zipper and making you mewl at the stimulation.
Three.
A thumb pressing down between his balls, hard. Hips stuttering with your impending release, losing your mind with each stroke.
Four.
Sukuna body goes rigid, choking on what sounds like your name, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he throws his head back and-
Five.
Cums all over your fist, thick, hot spurts of seed that paint your hands white. Splattering on your palm, and onto the chair below. You not too far behind as your body bows into his, stars behind your eyes as you chase peak after peak grinding down on his lap. You shudder, release taking everything out of you until it’s nothing more than mere tingles.
A finger on the trigger. Pulling.
Click!
As Sukuna’s maniacal laughter rings in the heady room, you blink away the haze of your orgasm as you realizing with a jolt that there were no fucking bullets.
Yet this bastard shot you anyway.
Skin heated against yours, lips ghosting your ear as Sukuna whispers. Low and gravelly.
“I don’t need a gun to kill, doll.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - The professor
“You see, I really, really need this A to pass, sir.” you bat your lashes innocently, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet.
Short skirt hiking up as you lean over the desk in Professor Gojo’s stuffy office. Making sure that tight top you purposefully wore lets those striking blue eyes see a perfect view of your breasts - no bra today, of course.
Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice.
Success.
Yet, Professor Gojo’s easy grin stays steadfast, “Well, maybe you should have studied harder then, hm?” You’d almost be fooled by his little act, yet your eyes catch the way he subtly crosses his legs, something stirring in those alluring cerulean eyes as he looks up at you through his lashes.
Deciding to play along, huffing as you cross your arms across your chest, “I did, maybe you should just let me take on an assignment for extra credit.”
His eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raising in question, “What kind of assignment?”
You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk at the way he makes it so easy for you. Reaching out immediately to trace a thumb across his full lips, leaning down far enough that your tits were basically spilling out of your top now.
“The one where you fuck me, right here. Right now, on this desk.”
You could feel his pulse quickening against your hand, voice strained with need. “I should fail you right now for this.”
Brushing your lips against his earlobe, you whisper, “But you won’t, sir.”
Before you can react, in one, fluid motion strong arms lift you off the desk to splay you out so sinfully on it. You almost get whiplash from his pure strength, brought back only by the feeling of his muscular thighs warm against your ass.
“If you want that A, then prove how badly you need it.”
Your heart races as you nod, cheeks flaring with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. With a feral grin, you spread your legs apart, toying with that soaked g-string - exposing your bare pussy. Beads of slick pooling underneath you on the desk as the way Gojo’s eyes harden as you clench around nothing.
You trail your hands enticingly down, down down. A delicate finger swiping at your folds, collecting your juices - popping right into your mouth. A smug huff of laughter leaves you at the way Gojo’s mouth drops into a surprised oh!
“You’re such a lil’ fucking minx, princess.”
You needed him now.
Rubbing your thumb over your swollen clit, index finger bullying its way into your snug cunt the way you wanted Gojo to. You gasp, arching your back as waves of pleasure, “Oh, sir! Mmm- feel s’good inside me. Want more- hah-”
Pornographic whines of pleasure send blood rushing straight to Gojo’s cock. He was losing his mind at your little show. He was going insane.
“Your turn now.” you mewl,
Your hungry gaze was locked with Gojo’s as he stands, removing his belt and unbuckling his pants. Your eyes follow the movement greedily, mouth watering at the impressive size of his erection. Leaking tip furiously flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Delicate beads of precum smearing on the frantic, jerky movements of his fist up and down and up and down and-
It’s a silent staredown. Your fingers matching the delicious rhythm of his fist, urgently fucking yourselves to each other. Trying to see who would break first. Up and down up and down - in and out in and out. Faster.
“Didn’t think you were all talk, sir.”
That’s what makes the great Gojo Satoru break. Surging forward in hasty steps, your hands pinned to the cold surface of the desk, pussy now quivering in loneliness.
Smack!
“Count to five, then I’ll give what you want. If you can’t even do that then I don’t think you deserve an A, princess.”
“O-one.” You whine at the harsh hand that smacks your ass, large handprint stinging into your searing skin.
“This the hand?” Gojo whispers, voice ragged. Inspecting your hands before his tongue sticks out to lick a long, languid stripe up your fingers, pooling your juices on his tongue. Pretty blue eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks your fingers clean so filthily.
Electricity courses through your veins as his long fingers deftly rip off your flimsy g-string, pocketing it safely in his work pants. You have half the mind to snark about it before you register Gojo’s throbbing cock flush against your pussy, leaking tip teasing in between your dripping folds leisurely.
Your slick mixing with his precum, trailing down down down his glistening length, pooling on where he tightly gripped his base - splattering onto the hardwood office floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! that matched the heartbeat in your ears.
“Beg for it, princess.”
“Hmmm, no.”
Smack! Smack!
“Ah! Three! Hah- please, sir.”
You didn’t even know exactly what you were begging for - but you got exactly what you wanted. Breath catching in your throat at the way Gojo pushed into you with a raspy grunt, cock hot and heavy against your fluttering walls.
His sheer size makes you feel like you’ll split apart any second now, but oh how you desperately wanted to be broken by him.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Gojo began to thrust. Shallow, mindless strokes, each one just to drive his enormous cock deeper to fit into your snug, ravaged cunt.
“Fuck me, please, sir. Need you feel me up insi-”
Smack!
“...four.” you whisper, voice strained with need and frustration.
Ass sore, marks probably there for days. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as Gojo loses grip on his restraint - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. Sheathing himself inside your dripping heaven till his heavy balls smacked your clit, your ass flush against the neat tufts of white at his pelvis.
Wasting no time, Gojo starts up at an uncontrollable, merciless pace, every inch of him being forced all the way into your snug pussy. Your walls suck him up greedily as his prominent veins throb and graze just right on all your sweet spots.
“This what you wanted, princess?” he rasps out, pace unwavering. “This is what you wanted, right? To be fucked like the pretty little slut that you are, huh?”
“Yes! Yes, please, sir.”
Each ramming of his cock drives you further and further up the cold desk, a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each slam. Knees weakened by his relentless pounding, you didn’t know how you were gonna hold yourself up anymore-
Ah, but you didn’t have to. Gojo Satoru, ever the gentleman, wrapped a single, muscular arm under your hips, kneading the skin underneath his fingertips, fucking you deeper onto his cock as if you were his personal fucktoy.
“Oh fuck! Hngh- sir, right there.” you yelp at the new angle, his furiously flushed tip kissing your cervix so painfully good, g-spot abused as he grazes it over and over.
Smack!
“Ah, sir! Five-”
And then you’re cumming. Hips pushing back animalistically, fucking yourself through your high. Chasing peak after peak.
Boneless and exhausting, dripping cunt clamping down on him you mewl, “Fill me up inside, sir! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs.” At the sound of your voice, Gojo’s eyes rolled back, his features contorted in pure ecstasy as his cock twitches savagely inside you, finally letting himself release. Cum gushing out in thick, pulsating spurts.
Filling your abused pussy to the brim, coating your walls an obscene white. Gojo keeps fucking himself through it, milking even the last drops of his length on your cunt. Breaths ragged, hips animalistic, low murmurs of your name leaving his lips.
And as his climax bates into nothing more but mere tingles, lust-hazed, tired ears catch the distant knocking from outside. Ah, right that appointment.
Blinking back the vision to his eyes, he looks down at you. All fucked-out, swollen lips pouty, and his cum dribbling enticingly down your thighs. Oh how he just wants to bite into you - or have half the mind to just send you out there like this to show all those college losers who you belong to.
Or, he thinks, eyes twinkling as he looks down at the generously large space under his desk.
You catch his gaze, a dangerous glint in them as he maps every curve and dip of your body. Marked and so very obviously his. Your pretty lips falling into a soft oh! as you realize just what idea was forming behind those darkened blue eyes.
“Come in.”
Before you know it, you’re shoved hastily under the desk, Gojo’s still-furiously flushed tip kissing your bruised lips as the door swings open.
God, if every assignment was like this then you’d probably end up valedictorian…
A/N. Can’t believe this got me b@nned for like a hour bro pls.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#gojo satoru x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#nanami kento x reader#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆
tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you."
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say.
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet."
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?"
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose."
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed.
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs.
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden."
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?"
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you.
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both.
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small.
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table.
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach.
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you.
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer.
"And what do you do?" you ask him.
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book."
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while.
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you.
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand.
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile.
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick."
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#marauders era#remus x reader#remus x you#marauders#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#marauders x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders#luveline's 40k party
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