#i wrote this a long time ago but never really finished it
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐁” 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 !
ᝰ.ᐟ Why does it feel like someone’s following your every move?
જ⁀➴ STARRING: 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
જ⁀➴ CONTENT: stalking, suggestive, reader is in college, reader is insecure, nothing to bad ??, not proofread (we die like kings), soft yandere (?), nothing graphic, mentions of jealousy and clinginess
જ⁀➴ FORMAT: 1.3k words, full fic
જ⁀➴ AUTHORS NOTE: This is my third time writing yandere ahhh! Anyway, it's been so long since I wrote something!! Um enjoy <33 also damn...reader really going through it.
“There,” You mutter under your breath. “Finished.”
You balance precariously on a wobbly stool, hands parting from a sleek, black camera. A security camera, to be precise.
You would have never thought of putting a camera in your apartment, not because you were naively dumb, but because you had thought you lived in the safer part of the city. Friendly neighbors always alerted you when suspicious people even lingered next to your doorstep, but also because you were broke. Broke, broke, broke.
Your rent was taking up more of your money than your groceries were. It had taken weeks of splurging on food to even be able to afford a security camera, much to your disdain. You were living on leftovers, and you were getting sick of week-old Chinese takeout.
Stepping off the stool, you admire your handiwork, cringing at how gaudy it looked in your minimalistic (or in much harsher words, bare) apartment room.
Your phone dings softly, and as you pick it up, you grin at the name displayed on your notifications. Caelan.
Caelan is your crush. Your cheeks seem to grow hotter at even admitting it in your thoughts. You felt like some highschool kid, even using the word “crush.” But Caelan did that to you, you guess. Make you feel childish and absolutely hopeless, and sometimes you wish he knew that. But then again, if he did, you would probably self-destruct on the spot. You were fine with admiring Caelan from afar.
Heard what happened
U ok?
Ahh. That.
The very reason you put that gaudy camera in your apartment in your first place.
It had been a month ago, when you first saw the signs of someone breaking into your house. You were doing laundry, a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday night while your friends were getting drunk and partying at a local club. Some of your underwear was missing, but you had chalked it up to your own clumsiness.
But then you saw the note, and everything changed. Written sloppily, penmanship atrocious. You had thought that the person was just bad at writing-but in hindsight, he must have used his less dominant hand to write it. Biting your cheek, you read it, and you wished you hadn’t.
It was the most perverse, disgusting thing you had ever read. That night, you couldn’t even sleep, scared that the unknown intruder-stalker would come.
The next day, the stalker sent you pictures of you doing the most mundane things. Sleeping, eating, studying, doing laundry, and even changing.
You immediately called the police on the next day, when a bouquet of roses showed up on your doorstep. The police had said, “We’ll look into it.”
They never did.
It led you to ask for help from a friend, and you instantly regretted it. Because the next day, the whole campus learned of your supposed stalker. And even though their sympathetic, “You okay?” made you feel a little bit more safer, a little more secure in your tiny world, it still made you embarrassed, scared too.
You type in a quick, I'm fine! And then wonder if you should put an emoji after that. After spending an embarrassingly long minute of deciding if you should, you just send it with no emoji.
That’s good.
If you need anything just call me.
…
A few days pass by, and still no stalker appears on the camera footage. At first, you’re elated. But then another few days pass, and you feel silly. Maybe there was no stalker, maybe you were being overdramatic-but even then, those pictures? The note? You shiver. You hear a knock on the door, and turn to the noise, a small hum escaping your lips.
Must be the delivery man. You had ordered some new textbooks for college. You walk towards the door, and twist the knob.
Caelan smiles, pale fingers holding a bouquet of roses. He wears a black turtleneck, gray pants and a black dress coat. You, on the other hand, were wearing your pajamas.
If you could melt in a puddle, you would have. You wished you were buried in a pit. You wanted to be flung into space. Your cheeks were burning hot. You must look like a mess. Is it too late to be flung into space?
“C-Caelan. What brings you…uh, here?” You cringe at your words.
“For you, of course.” He laughs, taking a rose from the bouquet and putting it behind your ear. “I just wanted to check up on you. I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything, like your beauty sleep,” He muses, eyes wandering towards your pajamas.
You never wanted to turn into a puddle so badly.
“Hah-no, I just woke up!” You lie, ignoring the way he cocks his head to the side skeptically. Ignoring the fact that it's three p.m.
“You should’ve called…I would’ve,” You gesture towards your clothes, “y’know, prepared.”
“Oh shit!” His eyebrows furrow, a hand yanking at a loose black strand of hair that escaped his braid. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried–”
“No, no it’s fine!” You hate the way you sound-so, so desperate. “Um, do you want to come inside? I’ll go change and then we can talk.”
You lead him inside, ignoring the fact of how oddly happy he is to be inside your home.
…
After Caelan and you became official, he started to change. Slowly, like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.
He became more clingy, and at first you thought it cute. You loved the way he doted on you, liked how he curled up into you in the mornings when he stayed at your home (more often than not) and begged you to stay in bed for just a few minutes.
But he also became more jealous. Whenever you were next to someone, he always hovered close by, a suffocating presence that almost drowned you. Always insisted on going wherever you went.
You sit on the couch, nestled closely next to Caelan. He hums softly, hands nestled under your shirt as you watch some shitty rom-com. A masterpiece. You called it. Caelan had raised a brow at that, but didn’t say anything except for a snort. You had elbowed him in the stomach after he jokingly (?) insulted one of your favorite moments.
“‘m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, hands retracting from your body and making you feel cold. You whine at the sudden coldness, complaining about how you might die of hypothermia if he doesn’t come back soon. He scoffs at that, planting a kiss on your temple as he walks into the kitchen.
And leaves his phone.
You pick it up, grinning. Your intent was clear. Take a silly photo of yourself and make it his wallpaper. A perfect, opportune moment.
You open the camera app, successfully taking a horridly candid shot of yourself, before curiosity takes a hold of you. You open the photo app, scrolling through his photos. Most of it was just pictures of landscapes, before you stop.
A picture of you sleeping, drool leaking from your mouth.
You stop, before groaning. Did you really look like that when you slept? You scrolled some more, before stopping again. Blood running cold.
Was that a picture of you changing?
You frantically scroll through more photos, and with horror realize that most resemble the photos that your stalker took. You would never forget how disgusting you felt, at how you felt like your privacy had been breached.
You choke down a scream, eyes wide and hands shaking.
And then you feel something-a hand, on your shoulder. Tight enough to bruise, and tight enough to secure you in place.
“Oh.” A single word escapes Caelan’s lips, and you turn. You can see your own, frantic expression in his black eyes. Black eyes that you thought were beautiful.
“So you saw them, hmm.” It wasn’t stated as a question. No, it was a statement. A fact, indisputable. The most horrible part was that he wasn’t even trying to deny them.
“Well, isn’t this cute?”
©beloved-nyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
#❛❛𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.𝐎𝐅.𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋.𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄—ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹❞#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x reader#Yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#Male yandere#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#male yandere x reader#male yandere x you#male yandere x y/n#yandere drabble#yandere imagines#yandere male#soft yandere#yandere x gn reader
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CHEAP BEER & FRIDAY NIGHTS
cinna’s note : wrote this at 2am n finished it in a library. why do toddlers scream s’ much D: my feet hurt ;;
tw : blood, guns, the usual mafia stuff, one death threat, alcohol ( beer ) ft. chuuya + mori, can be seen as platonic or romantic, angst / fluff !
the last time you see dazai osamu was when you were in your apartment, opening cans of beer to drink and eating cheap food from a convenience store nearby your home.
it was a normal saturday night, one that happened every week. talk about stupid stuff with him and fall asleep on the sofa together with nothing but a thin blanket to keep you warm, the lights still on.
you expected to see him when you were in your office, hanging around to escape his workload. until you don’t.
you didn’t think too much about it. he’ll be back tomorrow. maybe he got sent on another mission without your knowledge, and so you buy some extra food in case he decides to crash by.
seconds, minutes, hours which turn into days passes. and you presume he got killed by the boss. not really.
you ask around when work is over, hoping for some sort of news, only to receive confused glances. then you realise you haven’t asked nakahara. he was nowhere to be seen as well for now.
the elevator’s doors open and you step in, only to hear a greeting.
“hello.”
a shiver runs down your spine when you recognise that voice. “oh. hello boss.”
awkward silence falls and you can barely breathe, choked by the heavy air. petrified. you were scared. you never knew what made this man so fucking intimidating but you guess its because he looks the most normal out of all of you. but is practically a monster behind that facade of being fake nice.
“you’re the girl that ex-executive dazai always hangs around with.” he commented, a smile on his face. “yes.” you manage to nod, before his words struck you. “ex-executive ?” you repeat, eyebrows furrowing.
“yes. he defected a couple days ago. unfortunately no one could contact him.” he sighs. “a shame, dazai truly was a treasured subordinate.” bullshit.
“I take it that you weren’t aware ?” “I was unfortunately occupied with reports. I apologise.”
but why would he leave ? it doesnt make sense. and if he left, the people close to him would be suspects. and didnt he say that the port mafia was really where he belonged-
oh. then you remember why you were stuck in the office with another worker for the whole day doing stupid paperwork.
that bitch had known that you would be questioned.
“dont worry,” that sickening sweet voice again. “well, I’ll have to go now. see you around.” he says, when the doors open and then he left.
you sigh, then walk your office. you bite your tongue, so hard that it draws blood and you can taste the smell of rusted nails in your mouth.
you walk to your desk and pull out a drawer full of small notes from him. taking one out, you rip it into small, tiny peices, coloured paper fluttering down the ground.
“you’re taking this better than I expected.” nakahara walks in, bottle of wine in hand. “I thought you would go out, look for him and then murder him.”
“why is there wine ?” “wanna drink ?” you pause before silently agreeing. “sure. lets just go back to my apartment. dont wanna risk anyone seeing me drunk.”
shockingly, four years pass quickly when youre preoccupied with shitty work.
you ended up being nakahara’s assistant, a promotion that you hadn’t expected honestly. but the pay was good so you didnt have any issues.
when you come back from printing some reports at two am, you find chuuya sitting in his couch, legs spread and his hat covering his face, asleep, soft snores escaping his lips.
you hum, covering his sleeping figure with a blanket you found draped on the side of the couch, taking your briefcase and fixing your appearance, you left the building.
waving over a cab, you quickly went into it and gave directions to your apartment, tired and wasted from the long hours.
it soon stopped, signaling it’s arrival. mumbling a thanks, you stepped out of the taxi after paying.
you walked up the stairs slowly, feet aching from your heels. when you arrived to your door, already key in hand, ready to insert it into the lock. but just as you opened the door a crack, you stopped short.
the light was on.
swallowing a groan, you grabbed a gun from your belt and kicked it open.
“get out from your hiding spot or I’ll shoot you in the head ten fucking times.”
“aww, but you’ll shoot me even if I come out.”
what the actual loving hell was he doing here ?
turning around, you pointed your gun at him, rolling your eyes. “the fuck are you doing here dazai ?”
“it’s friday.”
you scoff, still holding the gun up to his head. “we dont even do that anymore. leave.”
“mmm . . . i bought some beer though, it would be a shame if you drank it alone-“
bang.
smoke hisses behind dazai, a hole shot clear through the wall. only then did you let your arm down, glaring at him.
“i’m not going to deal with this bullshit. I’ve had a long day.”
“the last time we saw each other was today’s date. wouldn’t you like to catch up ?” when did he become so persistent ? he changed too much. but you did too.
you put the gun down your coffee table, running a hand through your hair, defeated. “i’m going to take a shower, dont pull anything funny or I’ll be dragging your ass to the port mafia and handing you over to ozaki’s team.”
“got it !”
you end up screaming inside the shower the whole time.
when you come back out wearing your usual clothes, hair still wet and your towel around your neck, dazai looks amused but thankfully keeps his mouth shut tight.
he was already drinking a can of beer, and you notice there’s small splatters of blood on his beige trench coat.
“so, how’s everything back in the port mafia ?” he starts as you open a can straight from your freezer, a pop echoing through the room.
“as usual. i got promoted to become executive nakahara’s assistant.” you relish in his pained and disgusted look, knowing the friendly rivalry in between them that usually caused fights and included random buildings exploding.
“him ? that slug ? couldn’t you refuse ?” “the pay was high.” “hmph.”
“hows things at your new job ?” you ask, “is everything better there ? you’ve changed a lot so I guess so. you’re not the dazai I knew anymore,” your voice cracks, “what the fuck were you thinking ?!”
tears fall down your cheeks as you get up from your chair, grab his collar, “did you know how much I worried for your stupid suicidal ass ?!”
dazai stays silent, chocolate brown eyes staring back into your own. you let go of him and plop down your chair. “things are alright. altough there’s a co-worker named kunikida who always nags at me.” he replies, not talking about your sudden outburst.
you avoid his glance before getting up yet again. “i’m going to the toilet.”
the faucet is running and you’re splashing your face with cold water. eyes and nose a bit red and puffy.
it wasn’t any use crying. that dazai wont ever ever come back and it’s not something that you could control.
when you come back, you find your beer is already almost gone, so you grimace and pop open another one. the second one for the night.
“you’re working at the armed detective agency huh ?” you sigh, “I hope you manage to get killed in one of your missions.” “youre so cold.” “only to you.”
“you didnt lose an eye after all.” you comment, staring at where his eye bandage had been. “was that really just for fashion ?”
he doesnt answer and you dont talk anymore.
it continues on for a while until he breaks the silence. “i’m sorry.”
“im not accepting it.”
“knew it.”
silence envelopes the room yet again, and the only sounds audible is the clock ticking.
“I wont ever forgive you for a million years for pulling that. but, i’m quite a merciful person yknow ?” your words breaks the invisible wall in between you breaks a bit, cracks starting to form.
he perks up in surprise, “what do you mean-“ “i’m willing to start over. but dont think I won’t try and murder you in one of those fights.”
the young man chuckles, “alright then. to new beginnings ?”
“to new beginnings.”
#bsd x reader#dazai x reader#x reader#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#dazai x you#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader fluff#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ : novels !
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Gotham mourns the day of Jason's death, and Tim Drake should too, but he can't.
It's a day of pain and sorrow in many, many ways. Bruce wakes up earlier and leaves earlier, and Alfred speaks softly and quietly, as if there's real grief in the air.
(There is. Tim knows. He remembers finding out about Robin, about Jason Todd, and then realizing the bitter truth behind it all. Robin is dead.)
In the beginning, people used to call Jason a street kid, a rat. Tim's memory has always been fantastic, and he remembers people's harsh words about that young, young boy, and how Bruce Wayne was fraternizing with poverty, while others were kinder, gentle and sweet, because if even a rich man like Bruce can do such a thing, then there's still hope. It was stupid, and Tim still can't understand how people can be so shallow.
Such a young boy, and Mr. Wayne was a hero by adopting him, by taking him under his wing, by treating him like his son.
It's been months, and yesterday Wayne Enterprises made a big donation to some shelters of homeless kids that is definitely going to be in the news, something about Bruce Wayne remembering his dead son's life.
Bruce took the day off.
It's weird. Every year, Bruce will mourn like Jason was just killed again.
Maybe. Maybe the Jason Todd he knows really is dead forever, and this version of him is what was left, something different and twisted.
If Tim tries hard enough, he can feel the scar on his scalp, the ugly pattern on his skin, close to his nape. And he can hear the shouts. And the screams. And the sound of broken glass being stepped on. Everywhere. And blood blood blood, a red mask standing over him, fists clenched and hoarse voice.
He feels like throwing up when he thinks about it. It's kind of hidden in his mind, but not exactly—a blurry memory.
Sometimes, he closes his eyes and has a flashback of a bloody uniform. A memoir. The uniform of a young soldier.
For some reason, the second Robin was known for being ruthless. Sometimes, in the past but not that long ago, Bruce would call Tim by Jason's name, and wouldn't even notice his mistake. Tim wouldn't correct him either.
Today, on day of Jason's death, Red Hood is nowhere to be found.
Big boots, strong arms, a gun. Sticky blood.
Replacement, Replacement, Replacement.
Now, they're in the Batcave, high-tech equipment everywhere around them. Tim is standing but Bruce is sitting down, typing something in one of the computers, because a day off as Gotham's bachelor doesn't mean a day off as Batman.
"B," Tim says. Soft but not too soft, because Tim isn't supposed to talk about today, not like that, not like it's easy.
Robin was created to save and to smile, never to suffer or to die.
"Hm."
"Are you okay with patrolling on your own?"
Say no, so I'll stay. Please. I'll sleep here, in my room, and we'll wake up tomorrow like this day never happened.
Please.
"Of course. You should go, Tim. It's late."
Never too late. He wants to stay. Bruce is big and tall and Tim wants to hug him and tell him about the scar that is never going to fade away and the blood and the glass.
Look what he did to me. I mourned too, but look what he did.
Anger is something no Robin should feel, and yet—
Tim's cheeks are suddenly warm and he looks away from Bruce.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Alfred can give you some food so you can eat when you get home."
"I'm not hungry. And I can cook, you know?"
Blue eyes, just like Tim's and Jason's, but Jason's are also kind of green. Tim wonders how much of a father figure Bruce used to be—did he buy Jason books and toys and watch movies with him? Did Jason have nightmares just like Bruce still has? If so, did Bruce hold him through it?
Tim's parents are traveling. They're coming back next month.
Bruce isn't there to hold him when he wakes up in the middle of the night, but why would he be anyway?
And Tim knows Bruce asks his next question more because he needs to than because he wants to, "You know you can stay the night whenever you want, right?"
Even tonight?
"Yeah. Yeah, I know, B. But I have school tomorrow, so… I should—I should go. See you tomorrow, kay?"
Tim doesn't even talk to Alfred about the food. He just leaves.
#batfamily#drabble#ao3#tim drake#jason todd#bruce wayne#i wrote this a long time ago but never really finished it#english is not my first language#94badbye writes
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What you mean to me
#jojo’s bizarre adventure#vento aureo#golden wind#giorno giovanna#guido mista#giomis#ness’ art#hi this is the longest comic I’ve ever posted so far. enjoy?!#I wrote the general idea for this and the dialogue around two years ago…#but I never went through with the idea because. wow. this is too long#a couple of months ago I found my old notes and sketches of this and um#now here it is#this is my love letter to this pairing because I’ve loved them dearly ever since I finished gw#the last page was originally a separate drawing unrelated to the comic but I decided to repurpose it for the narrative#I’m used to making humorous things so it feels a little weird to make something more sincere (although there’s still a little haha funny)#I feel motivated to make more stuff like this but at the same time I don’t really want to because of all the effort necessary#but um#happy that this project got finished!!! and not abandoned in the depths of my desk!!! yay!!!#and yes I decided against adding the other page I. actually reasoned with myself for once
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i just had an idea for a harrykim fic in which, after having another dora dream, harry wakes up like “im so fucking tired of these dreams i *need* to stop being in love with my ex” but he doesnt know how. none of the skills do, if they knew he would have stopped already.
so, what does he do with that? he begins asking everyone he knows what to do. “hey kim quick question how do i stop being in love with my ex?” and kim is like. surprised but in a nice way bc wow hes trying to leave that behind, but he cant help him. “sorry detective, i dont really know, but im sure you’ll figure it out”, maybe with a pat on the shoulder, and empathy tells harry hes not the kind of guy to get that attached to his partners, so he doesnt really know what to do.
he continues asking all the others: jean, judit, civilians and others related to the cases hes working on, he just asks how do you stop loving someone.
sadly, people either tell him a- they dont know, b- to fuck off, c- to just give it some time. but how can that last one work? its one of the few things hes aware of from his life before waking up in martinaise! its been going on for years!! he cant stop with just some time!!
and then he sees trant again after some time of not doing so, and so he asks. and trant being like that tm tells him “well you could try to give it some more time, but at this point it doesnt seem like that could work for you... maybe if you just allowed yourself to fall for someone new, then youd finally stop being so tied up to her” or something like that, and harry gets a new thought, maybe “do you believe in love after love” idk
and time goes on with few changes, some more cases, spending more time with kim outside of work too, stuff like that. and then he has a new dora dream but shes like “this is the last one. youre finally ready to let me go. youre into something new, and theres no more room for me in your heart” and harry is confused but really fucking glad its over, and he wakes up thinking “oh i *have* to tell kim about this!” and as he goes through his morning routine his kim thoughts are more and more often more than he thought.
and then hes just carrying coffee for both of them for when they meet up for their job, and once he sees kim it falls on him like a fucking brick, the thought gets completed and its “you do and its him. you may have actually been feeling something for your partner since you first met him, but you were so caught up with your ex you couldnt really see it until now” or something, and he stumbles on his steps and both coffees fall off his hands in his attempt to not fall on the floor himself while having a “fuck. shit” moment and kim being like “are you okay detective? did something happen?” and checking if harry didnt burn himself with the coffee, while harry is just going through it, also i feel like his composure would get lowered from the thought being completed.
next time he meets trant he says “just so you know, you were right” with no more context than that, it doesnt matter how long its been or how many conversation in between they had. trant would figure it out at some point and be like “youre welcome. or good luck” and harryd be like “both, thanks”.
i dont really have much more than that </3
#my posts#disco elysium#harrykim#kimharry#im most likely just posting it for the sake of posting this bc i dont think id write it#im not really the writing type. ive tried a few times but im never able to finish things giusdg#also actually last time i wrote a fanfic it was about 10 years ago ngl help#but! i was on the shower thinking and this came to me lmao#idk if i should put this under a read more? i mean its kinda long but its not thaaaat long its scrollable#worst case scenario ill deal with that later lmao anyways yeah i cant stop thinking about them <3
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helloo, this is my first time requesting something but I have gotten obsessed with the way you write so-
I had this idea of a f!reader that is really not vocal in bed. And scaramouche absolutely GETS OFF to every little whimper and whine she makes because he doesn't hear it that often and makes an effort to hear *something* KDBDKDIEIDJD
Ok that's it, woohoo (with my luck i've already forgotten i even wrote this a day later so I'll just sign off with an M to remind myself, lmao)
~M
𝐌𝐎𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄
꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ scaramouche x fem!reader
꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw themes. cunnilingus. begging (both sides). fingering. penetration. kiss/bite marks. use of "baby" n "pretty girl". just the tip but not for long. he slaps his cock on your pussy like once + slight pussyjob?! (think that's it :3)
꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ he just wants to hear your cute little moans. is there really something wrong with that?
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄—this was actually drafted like... a few days ago?? i don't remember when but suddenly, now, at a random time of 4am i felt like finishing it so here u go !! might be a bit off or something cuz i did it while half awake 😭 LMAO [not proofread]
he's trying his best, he really is. all he wanted was to hear your pretty moans that tell everything he needs to know—that he's making you feel good.
scaramouche's tongue laps up your dripping arousal as his hands held your thighs apart. a soft sigh could be heard from him upon dragging a finger along your slit. that same finger soon enters your hole and finally, you let out a small moan. your voice was barely above a whisper yet he still heard it, "please moan for me, baby," scaramouche says and dips his head back down in between your legs. he plants a gentle kiss to your clit before speaking up again, "i really want to hear your pretty voice." he sounds almost... desperate.
he brings in another finger inside your pussy, curling them up at the perfect angle that he was sure would let you let out some kind of sound.
but all he got was silence.
a frown forms upon his lips but he won't give up. he leans down to suck on your clit all the while maintaining eye contact as much as possible. a deep blush appears across your cheeks, radiating heat on your skin. his hand makes it way to yours to guide it towards his head. you oblige in his obvious wishes and let your fingers tangle in the soft locks of his hair.
scaramouche pushes his fingers a bit deeper within you, in hopes that the tips of his fingers hit your sweet spot ever so slightly. he wants you to be all needy for him. surely that'll get you talking, right?
after some time, he found himself already lost in the sounds of your cute whimpering whenever he thrusts his fingers inside. "...'m cumming, scara..." you quietly gasp out as he began to absolutely devour you. he's acting like he hasn't eaten in days (which he doesn't even need to do!) "cum on my tongue, baby. cum for me."
you let the waves of pleasure wash over your body and bit by bit, moans began to continuously be drawn out from you. he smiles and lets out a low groan; upon standing up, you could clearly see how hard he was as he was stroking the length of his cock. slowly working it up from the base up to the tip.
he teasingly slaps his cock against your folds, eliciting a few good whimpers from you. since he felt like teasing you further, he slides the length of his dick along your slit. the head of it entering your hole every now and then but never fully settling inside you.
"tell me you want it." he spoke in a low and sultry tone.
"i want it." you replied upon throwing the last bit of your dignity out of the window, "i want you, scara. please..." a soft smile curls up his lips. affectionate kisses on your forehead and temples as he easily slid his cock inside. every sweet little sound you let out seems to drive him a little more crazier.
scaramouche's thrusts were slow, yet deep and precise—making sure that you felt pleasure rather than any hints of pain. "fuck, scara..." the way you gasped out his name with so much need laced in your voice. he fucking loves it.
"let me hear you some more, pretty girl." he whispers in between soft kisses on your collarbone as he felt like marking you with his kiss and bite marks. the feeling of that along with the head of his dick reaching your deepest parts sent shivers throughout your body.
he's glad to know that he's making you feel good.
and now he wants to fill you up for being such a good girl, all for him.
#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆#♡.･ dearest kuni ✰°｡⋆#♡.･ late night thoughts ✰°｡⋆#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#fem!reader
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IS IT NEW YEARS YET? | lorenzo berkshire
summary; you're not a huge fan of new years, since when was it all about couples, anyway? luckily, someone else is in the same boat.
word count; 6712
notes; this is completely unedited, it's bound to be riddled with mistakes. this is the second to last christmas fic, just my baby mattheo to go! I saved the best for last.
Sitting at the table, you did your very best to hide the scowl sitting on your face. Pansy had left you only a moment ago to dance with Luna, Astoria had pulled Draco away onto the floor ages ago, and Blaise was off flirting up a storm with every girl possible. Regulus was sulking at the bar with his brother, while Mattheo and Theo had long since snuck away to smoke and hide from the party.
That just left you. Sat alone at the table, trying not to get too drunk as you watched all the happy couples around you mingle. The Christmas period had always been so fun, but lately, it only seemed to be a holiday for couples. Which, really wasn’t fair, in your opinion. They already had Valentine’s Day, why the fuck did they need this one, too?
However, everything seemed to be spinning around kissing at midnight, and dancing, and romance, and Luna’s bag full of grapes, for whatever that was about. You’d tuned out when she’d begun explaining.
Glancing around the room in search of the only remaining member of your party who was unaccompanied, perhaps a little reprieve from the loneliness, you spotted Enzo near his parent's table. He looked, in a single word, uncomfortable. Scratching at the back of his neck, he wore a scowl, and while you couldn't hear over the loud music and chatter what he was saying all that distance away, it was clear that he wasn’t happy.
His mother glared at him, and his anger dimmed only a second, a flash of fear in his eyes, a bob of his throat, but he didn’t back down. Finishing off the last of your drink and standing, the sequins of your dress glitter under the lights, falling perfectly in the simple, floor-length dress you’d chosen for the evening.
As you wove through the bodies, heels clicking on the floor, you started to be able to pick out the deep rumble of his voice throughout the other conversations. He didn’t have a great relationship with his parents. Certainly, not as bad as others in the group, but strained He rarely wrote them, he only ever went home at Christmas and Summer, and they never came to visit. In almost a decade of knowing Enzo, you’d perhaps spoken to them three times, and once, was merely your introduction.
“I’m not going to date a girl I don’t know just because you think I ought to!”
Your brows furrowed, stilling momentarily as his words raced through your mind. Regulus’ parents had tried to set him up with someone recently too, only six months ago, they’d sent him letter after letter about the eligible girls from other noble families he could woo. You’d gone pale upon discovering your own name on the list, quite highly ranked, and Regulus had assured you that as much as he loved you dearly as a friend, he had absolutely no interest in pursuing you romantically. Nor, any of the girls on the list.
However, you hadn't expected Enzo’s parents to leap on him so fast. Your mother had been making some subtle comments about relationships lately, but nothing nearly so bold, not since your break-up. Enzo dragged a hand through his hair as he groaned, this conversation obviously wasn’t going in his favour, and you pitied him.
In a generous mood, you finished your walk, closing in by his side and putting on the charming smile that you knew could win over any adult or peer, with a few simple words and a bat of your lashes. Anyone, except, perhaps Enzo’s mother. Her eyes narrowed on you as you placed a hand on Enzo’s lower back, standing respectably by his side, by far closer than could be considered friendly, as you smiled up at him.
“Enzo, sweetie, Draco is looking for you.”
“Wh— What?” His brows pulled together, obviously confused, and you slipped your arm around his waist, settling in by his side.
“Lorenzo, who’s your friend?” His mother’s cold tone sliced through the space between you as his gaze scanned over your features.
“Hi, Mrs Berkshire.” You held your hand out offering your name, and she only hummed, shaking it loosely before returning her hand to her side, elegantly. “I’m Enzo’s… well, we haven’t quite figured out terms yet, have we? I’m his date tonight… at least, I hope?”
He did well to hide his flicker of surprise, before finally seeming to understand the aim of the game, his arm snaking around your body like a boyfriend might do, and curling you further into his side. “Of course you are, darling.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” Your giggle was far more high-pitched and sweet than usual, but the tension bled from his mother’s shoulders just a fraction, as she analysed the pair of you. For emphasis, Enzo leaned in to press a polite kiss to your temple, and you stretched your smile wider, like a happy girlfriend would. “I’m so sorry to have interrupted, I promised Draco I’d find you, and you left me all alone at the table. I was starting to miss you, but now I see you were doing something important. I thought perhaps you’d snuck away with the boys.”
The piercing gaze of his mother drilled into you, but you didn’t falter, or show any weakness. In your social circles, one cowering sign was just an opening for snapping teeth at throats, and you wouldn't give anyone such an opportunity.
“Why would you now simply tell us that you had a date, Lorenzo?” His mother eventually questioned, finally dragging her stare away from you and back to her son, and you felt like you could breathe again at last.
“Well, as you heard my girl say,” He murmured, stumbling only slightly over the words, and recovering them smoothly with a cough. “We haven’t settled on any kinds of labels yet. I didn’t want to be presumptuous, or too forward.”
“And how long have you been seeing one another?” She wasted no time, raising a brow.
“Just two months.” You smiled, and she flickered her sights to you for only a moment. “You raised a real gentleman, Mrs Berkshire. He’s been so patient and sweet, it can be so hard to find times between classes to see one another and spend time together. We’ve been taking it slow. I apologise if I come as a surprise to you tonight, that’s my fault. I asked Enzo not to write to you, because I haven’t told my own parents yet, you see.”
Leaning in to whisper your joke, as if you were passing secret information;
“My father can be a little over-protective, I wanted to spare Enzo, so I knew my father wouldn't scare him away.”
At that finally, a smirk broke on her lips. She made a vague sound of agreement, and you could feel your friend relax a little where your hand was rubbing his side, gently. “Well, I suppose I can understand that. Lorenzo, you may leave for now. But I do not expect to be kept in the dark on such matters again.”
Waggling a finger at him, he only nodded, eyes wide. “Of course, Mother. It won’t happen again.”
Leaning in to kiss her cheek, he gave a hurried goodbye, before steering you away with his arm still around you, and guiding you back toward the other side of the room. When you were far enough away he knew his parents wouldn't hear them, he let out a shaky laugh, and turned to look down at you.
“I don’t know if you’re brave, stupid, or both. Taking on my mother like that? Impressive, and also insane.”
“You have a funny way of saying ‘thank you’, Berkshire.” You tutted, and he only grinned. Dipping down, he kissed your cheek now, coming to a stop beside your table.
“Thank you, for saving me back there.”
“Well, you seemed like you needed a save.” You shrugged, his arm still looped around your waist, hand on your lower back, rubbing lightly as he looked around the room.
“You don’t have an actual date, right?” Leaning in, his breath brushed your ear, and you shuddered at the feel, “Because there’s a guy over there glaring at me like I kicked his dog.”
His fingers touched your cheek, guiding your gaze to casually follow where he had been looking. As your eyes fixed on the man on the other side of the dance floor, you hardly concealed a scoff. He wasn’t glaring, so much as staring with curiosity now that you were the one looking. He smoothed a hand up his girlfriend’s leg as she sat beside him engaged in another conversation, not noticing where his attention now lingered.
Turning your gaze away with a heavy sigh, your motions caused you to curl a little further into Enzo, who leant back enough to look down at you. “Is that the dickhead-ex that broke up with you in a letter a few months ago?” He whispered, and you could only nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat.
Over him, you might be, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You’d suspected for a while he might be cheating, based on how soon he’d moved on, how ingratiated into his social circles she seemed, but this was the first time you’d ever seen her.
She was pretty.
“That would be the one.” You replied, and Enzo only hummed, freeing his other hand from his pocket to tip your face up, an act that was far more intimate than any touch the two of you had ever shared. His thumb smoothed over your cheek, flicking a gaze back to the other side of the room and smirking slightly. “I don’t need to make him jealous, Enz. As much as I appreciate the sentiments, this is unnecessary.
It wasn't needed, but you couldn't deny it felt good. Felt good to be held again, to settle your hands on someone’s chest, to feel his steady heartbeat under your palm as he touched you so tenderly. “I know, but isn’t it nice? To make him see what he let go, to show him how you should’ve been treated. We’re stuck together all night anyway, might as well make it count for you too.”
“Why is it that we’re stuck together?” You murmured, scowling a little at his choice of words, even more so when he only chuckled. You both knew he didn’t mean it like that, but it felt better to channel a little bitterness than let in the hurt.
“My parents now believe we’re a couple. Your heroic act of saving me now has consequences.” He clicked his tongue, his hand smoothing down to your neck, thumb under your chin to force you to look up at him.
“I figured you’d sneak away to see the other boys once I got you out.”
“And abandon my doting girlfriend who comes to my rescue?” He gasped dramatically, shaking his head, and a small laugh fell from your lips. “I would never. So, what do you say? I’m in your debt, let me be your real date for the night. I promise I’m a fun date.”
“You don’t have to beg, Lorenzo. I’ll let you be my date.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen me beg yet.” He smirked, a wicked look glinting in his eye, before he stepped back from you. Slipping the hand from your waist to slip into your own, he grasped tightly. “How about we go and get a drink?”
“I have a drink.”
“A real drink. I hate champagne, and I know you do too.” He cringed at the sight of your half-drunk glass, and didn’t wait for an answer, beginning to lead you both through the party and towards the bar.
Settling in together, he pulled out a stool for you, tapping at the surface of it for you to sit on. When you shifted towards it, his hands settled on your waist, boosting you up to sit on it, and winking at the surprised sound that slipped free.
He flagged down the bartender with a quick wave, before stepping in closer to your side, his hand finding a home on your lower back once again. Your spine was stiff, and you tried to convince yourself to relax, mumbling your drink order to the waitress as she passed by and took them both.
Leaning back into his touch, he responded in kind, hand rubbing up and down your back softly, and turning to face you. Twisting your body on the stool, your knee bumped into his thigh, and your hand dropped to sit over the top of his on the bar before you.
“So, didn’t expect your parents to be pushing your impending marriage so hard.” You murmured, tracing a finger over the prominent veins and marks in his hand, along each finger, all the way to the tips until they twitched, before returning to the back of his hand. On one finger sat a prominent family ring, the Slytherin ring on his thumb, and a couple of varied bands stacked amongst the others. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m far too young to be considering marriage. I haven’t seen the world yet, I’ve never been in love. Not— Not that soul-shredding, intense kind of love. I want to experience that at least once. I want to pick my own wife.” He shook his head, casting you a downtrodden look, a pout on his lips. “Doesn’t seem like that’ll be in the playing cards for me.”
“You could always leave. After we graduate, we get to leave. Maybe you should just… run.”
He only raised a brow at you, shaking his head slightly. It was a stupid suggestion, really. There wasn’t a place he could go that he wouldn't be followed by the reputation of his family, of his magical status. Unless he were to give it all up, disappear as a muggle, and spend the rest of his life feeling like he’d chopped off a limb, or had a vital organ removed.
“Sorry. Dumb thing to say.”
“No, it was sweet. You were just trying to be comforting.” He whispered, and the drinks were placed down before you both. Pushing your drink to you with two fingers, you tapped them together gently, glass clinking, before taking a sip of your cocktail. “I might milk this little situation you’ve gotten us into for a while, though. Let my parents believe I’m courting you back at Hogwarts, and when we call it quits, I’ll be heartbroken. I’ll tell them I need time to get over you.”
Shaking your head with a small laugh, the sound brought a smile to his face.
“I’ll milk that one too. I reckon I can buy myself… at least a year, all in all.”
“Only a year, is that all my fictional love is worth?” You raised a hand to your chest, and he stepped even closer, playing into the act as his arm tightened around your waist.
“You’re right. You're the one. When you leave me, I’ll be devastated. I’ll never get over it. You’ll be my one that got away.” He gave a heavy sigh, a groan at the end of it, slumping slightly into the bar and only increasing his dramatics as you giggled. “Don’t leave me, I’ll be better! I’ll buy you more flowers, I’ll stop sleeping with my secretary!”
You were gathering odd looks at his declaration, an older couple behind you tittering disapprovingly but you didn’t care. Not as he straightened back up, standing closer to you still, and smiling at you so widely. Your cheeks flushed as he took in your features, and you sipped at the cold alcohol in your glass, fingers raising to your cheeks to hide the blush.
“Truly, though. Thank you. That was sweet of you, you didn’t have to step in for me.”
“I know, but you’re my friend. One of my best friends. I know you’d help me out in a pinch, too.” Your hand fell back to his, toying with the house ring on his thumb, and he twisted his hand to give you better access. Such a small gesture, but you appreciated it nonetheless, as he fed into your anxious habits with no extra thought, your chest flooding with warmth and gratitude for him.
“I would, but, my parents are more than just a pinch. You were brave, my mum likes to pride herself on being intimidating.”
“She doesn’t have to like me, but I knew she wouldn't hurt me.” He raised his brows, silently questioning, and you looked at his hand. Unfolding his loose fist, you laced your fingers through his. “You were there with me. I knew she wouldn't hurt me.”
His hand tightened around yours, and his throat bobbed slightly. Lifting your raised hands, he kissed your knuckles softly. Instead of finding words to respond, he used gestures, his eyes fixed on yours as everything that needed to be said shone in them. He wasn’t his parents you saw him for that and trusted him. This was real, it wasn’t just for show, and when he moved his lips from your skin, you cupped his cheek with your other hand.
“I know you’re good, Enzo.” You whispered, a fragile tone for just him to hear over the music, and his smile wobbled from flirty to heartfelt. “You’ve been my friend for so long now, I feel pretty confident in saying I know who you are.”
“Thank you.” His words came on a rushed sigh, and you swiped your thumb across his cheekbone one final time, before pulling away to clasp your drink and take a sip. He kept a tight grip on your other hand, though, clasping it to his chest momentarily, before resting your joined hands back on the bar. “So, what have I got to do to get you to dance with me out there?”
“Oh, no. I don’t dance at these things.” You shook your head quickly, and his grin only stretched at that prospect. At the look on his face, you waved a finger at him. “I have never danced at one of these things before. You aren’t the first guy to ask. I. Don’t. Dance.”
“I say you can.” He snickered, humming a fragment of the song as your eyes rolled. Leaning in a little closer to him, his wicked, flirty smile was back. Your nose brushed his.
“Not a chance.”
He seemed to accept the challenge, finishing off the whiskey that was in his glass. He wasn’t giving up, and you knew for certain that once Enzo set his mind to something, he achieved it. He waved to the bartender again, ignoring her flirty smile as he placed his order with two fingers raised, “Can I get two shots of tequila, please?”
“Make it four.” You muttered, and his eyes sparkled as he corrected himself. Finishing off your own drink, you pushed the empty glass toward his own, nothing but an overly saturated berry left in the bottom. “How’d you know tequila is my go-to for shots?”
“Because, my darling, I am observant. In fourth year, you legitimately gagged when we gave you Sambuca to try and you refuse to touch it even to this day, you say vodka tastes like nail polish, and you never drink whiskey or rum. And, only a psychopath would shoot gin.” His nose scrunched up, and four shot glasses were soon placed down before you, each one being filled up, a few droplets escaping to the bar. A dish of salt and limes followed, and you awed silently over it as he wiggled his brows.
“Fancy, we get the fruit, too.”
“Always impressive these days, every family trying to one-up each other with parties.” He handed you your first shot, clinking your glasses together and spilling some of the sticky amber liquid onto your fingertips. Sprinkling salt on your hand, he winked, “Cheers.”
Licking the salt from his own fingertips, you copied, licking the substance from the back of your hand. Quickly, you did your first shot, then the next, and before you could even reach for one, Enzo was pushing a slice of lime between your lips. He’d surely smudged your lipstick, and juice was now running down your chin, but he caught it with a quick swipe of his thumb, grinning around the citrus in his mouth as he sucked it dry, and winced.
Pulling the lime out from between your teeth, laughter soon spilt over in its place, and you left the half-drained slice in one of the empty glasses. Licking the tips of your fingers for the remaining tequila, Enzo watched, eyes a little foggy, as you cleaned up. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“Why?” You muttered, and he leaned in again, invading your space as the woodsy smell of his cologne overpowered you, making you want to press your face into his neck. Instead, you held his gaze, with bated breath.
“Because it’s hot. And I’m only so strong.”
“Are you flirting with me, Enz?” You smirked, watching as he offered you his hand. Taking it, you hopped down from the bar stool, waiting for the effects of the shots to kick in, ready to welcome the numbing buzz they’d carry.
“Most definitely. You like it?”
“I do, actually.”
Linking your arm through his own as he led you slowly to the dance floor, he patted your hand on his bicep. “You could try to sound less shocked by that. I’m great at flirting.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve seen you put it into use before. That pretty smile, a few sweet words and a wink, you normally have women falling at your feet.”
As you reached the edge of the floor, he turned to face you, settling a hand on your hip, and tugging you in closer than needed. “But not you? Because you’re different to other girls.”
“Oh, no. I’m just like other girls. And it would work on me too, if I didn’t know you so well. Unfortunately, I’ve watched you throw up in your own shoe and eat food off the floor. You’ll have to work a little harder to get me.” Pinching your fingers between your faces to show a gap, he watched, before taking that hand and placing it on his shoulder, smoothly.
“I love a good challenge.”
With that, he was sweeping you across the floor, your shocked laughter breaking free as he spun you suddenly into the madness of the dance floor. Perfected routines and perfect dances, and even in your addled mind, the steps began to come back to you. You’d always thought that there was something so eerie about the dances, the melancholic music that played, always building to a crashing crescendo.
It felt like music with a tragic tale, spinning and dipping and dancing, like a Shakespeare play given music instead of words. Rows of perfectly organised dancers, all moving in perfect sync and harmony.
Luckily, tonight, that structure seemed to have fallen apart a little. Various levels of dancing skills were taking place. Some were just swaying, others were performing flips and spins that made you dizzy, as you and Enzo settled somewhere in the middle. His hand tight on your waist, the other clasping your own, he spun you between people, guiding you towards the centre of the floor.
“I thought you said you didn’t dance!”
“I don’t, that doesn’t mean I can’t. My mother had me in lessons three times a week as a child. I am an excellent dancer.” Glancing around, it was mercifully informal tonight, not the regimented performances it sometimes could be. “This whole… thing. It just creeps me out sometimes.”
“When they all dance in perfect, synchronised lines, like some kind of terrifying ballet performance?” He muttered, smiling and nodding as you wove past an older couple.
“Yes!”
“I get you,” He hummed, shuddering a little. Ahead of you both, Draco was spinning a smiling Astoria, and he looked utterly exhausted by this point. She didn’t seem ready to stop dancing any time soon, though.
As he spun you back in, your arm wrapped around his neck this time, holding yourself closer to him and calming the crazy dance he’d drawn you into. He was smiling himself, cheeks flushed from the exertion, and as you began to move into a slower sway, his cheek came to rest against the top of your head.
“You ever dance at one of these parties with your ex?”
“I told you, I don’t dance.” You mumble, the arm around his neck sliding, hand slipping to brush lightly at the hair on the base of his neck. He stretched his head a little further, leaning into the touch with a soft sigh.
“You didn’t dance,” He corrected cheekily, pinching at your hip, and your eyes rolled upwards at his pedantic behaviour. “Your ex is watching us.”
“I told you, I don’t care.”
He made a vague noise before turning you subtly, so that you could see him now. The displeased look on his face, the narrowed eyes as he watched you and Enzo, and the way he turned in a flustered rush once he realised you’d caught him. “You may not care, but I’m getting a sick sort of satisfaction from it. I had to watch you hurt over him, even when you tried to pretend you weren’t. The way your face fell that day in the hall when you opened that letter, I’ll never forget it.”
“Enz…” Your whisper is barely audible, his own words mumbled by your ear so low they were barely decipherable. Goosebumps still rose along your skin at the snarl he made, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he shook his head.
Dipping down, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, so tender and loving that you felt your heart skip in your chest. “He’s a dick, and I wish I could do a lot more to him than just pork a few holes in his ego tonight. He deserves a right kicking.”
“I was over him long before that letter came. The distance had been growing.”
“Maybe so, but he’s still a prick.” Turning you around and around in slow circles, you gained and lost sight repeatedly each scene just a little different from the last. He was putting on a show, that was for sure, as Enzo took you for turns around the dance floor. One moment he had his new girlfriend in a passionate kiss, the next she was laughing as she stared up at him, the next, whispering sweet words in her ear.
If you could see it, you were sure Enzo could too, his grip tightening on you protectively. Leaning up, you returned the affection, pulling his focus back to you as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go get another drink, yeah? I could use some hydration after all this dancing.”
He looked right through you, like he knew it was a distraction, and yet he nodded anyway, jaw clenched. This time, you took one of his hands in both of yours, leading him through the crowd as his fingers clutched your own.
Settling at the bar, you called for two waters, before turning your gaze back to him.
“Wish I could just push them both in the fireplace, and watch them burn.”
His words made your eyes widen slightly, and you pressed a glass into his hand the moment they arrived, encouraging him to drink. “Enzo, why are you so bothered about this all of a sudden?”
“Because— Because I can see him now! And he’s a jackass, and I’m already mad enough about my parents, and the fact it’s this stupid day. I need something to channel my anger into, and he’s a mighty good conduit.” He took another swig of his drink, jaw clenching as he slammed the empty glass down and licked his lips.
Placing a finger on his chin, you twisted his head to you, and he softened slightly as he looked. “Not a fan of New Year's, huh?”
“Not a fan of the holidays in general. Especially once I have to go home.” Your heart clenched for him. The expression on your face must’ve given you away, because he soon shrugged. “I used to love the holiday period, but nowadays, all my parents do is get at me. Plus, being single at Christmas sucks, y’know? Since when was this time all about love? I thought it was supposed to be about generosity and love and whatever. Now it’s all about couples.”
Your jaw dropped a little, and his brows furrowed.
“What?”
Enzo had just echoed the exact sentiments you’d been thinking about only a couple of hours ago, and a breathless laugh escaped you as you shook your head. At least he understood you. “Nothing. Just, I was thinking the same thing, earlier.”
“Great minds.” He whispered, shaking a little tension out of his body and closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the fire was dulled, sweet sparkle back, and he loosed a heavy breath. “Sorry. That got heavy.”
“I’m always here for you to talk, Enz.”
He smiled, eyes closing again as he rested his forehead on yours, tugging you in with arms around your waist for a hug. His face moved, chin hooking over your shoulder, with a kiss pressed there as he did, which sent your pulse skyrocketing at the feel of his lips on your skin. “I love you, you know that, right? You’re one of the most important people in my life.”
“Love you too, Enzo…” You murmured, running your fingers through his hair. He pulled away, a shy smile on his face, and he nudged your glass to you this time.
“Drink up. I want to get you back out on that dance floor. I take pride in knowing I’m the only man you’ll dance with.”
“Because you’re the most insistent man I’ve ever met. I know that if I said no, you’d only spend the whole night bugging me.”
“It’s charming how well you know me.” He teased, and your eyes rolled, resulting in a soft slap to the outside of your thigh as he tutted at you, mumbling about your attitude. “Oh, incoming.”
“Who—” You barely got the word out before an arm was slung over your shoulder, a heavy weight following as they leaned on you. Mattheo beamed at you lazily when you turned your head to see. Theo soon followed, shuffling his feet a little, and rubbing at his eyes. The second he saw the half-drunk glass of water in your hands, he lunged for it, managing to get the whole thing down in one go, without evening coming up for breath. “Jeez, how baked are you two?”
“Theo brought some good shit this time,” Mattheo murmured, kissing his fingers and waving them to the air, and Theo gave a delayed scoff after a couple of seconds.
“I always bring good shit.”
“Agree to disagree.” Mattheo smiled, bopping his friend on the nose, as Enzo only laughed.
“So, that’s where you two have been, huh? Outside smoking all night.”
“Not all night,” Theo smirked, waggling his brows as he produced his phone from his back pocket. “I spent a good deal of time flirting. I got six girls’ numbers, and Matt here only got four.”
He set off snickering as Mattheo only grumbled, and the moment he loosened his hold on you, you slipped free so he could lean against the bar instead. You didn’t get far, not before Enzo was snaking an arm around you, and tugging you into his chest. Theo might have been higher than a kite, but he didn’t miss the way Enzo’s touches trailed over your back, settling low on your spine. He smirked, eyes glinting when Enzo dropped an absentminded kiss to the top of your head.
“So, what’s new with you two?”
“We’re dating now.” Enzo beamed, and Mattheo spluttered over his drinks order, the bartender wandering way as Mattheo turned to face you, and Theo’s jaw dropped. “Or, at least, that’s what we’re letting my parents believe, so they’ll hop off my dick about marrying some stranger.”
You pat his chest for his use of words, and he shrugged. Finally, Draco seemed to have persuaded Astoria to let him go. She was now happily dancing with her sister, as Draco stumbled over to your group at the bar, and collapsed down onto a free stool.
“That girl has more energy than a toddler on crack.”
“Interesting metaphor.” You said, and Draco only patted his chest, sticking an extra glass of water and a whiskey onto Mattheo’s order as he tried to get a drink once again. Turning his gaze back to you, those grey eyes slid from head to toe, a pale brow raising.
“What’s with you two?”
“Haven’t you heard, Dray?” Theo mused, “They’re dating.”
He had a similar reaction to the other two, equally as entertaining until the news was broken, and you hid your laughter in Enzo’s shoulder. He was smiling, hiding his own amusement in your hair, his fingers playing with the tips as the strands spilt down your back.
The night went on much the same, hours blurring by as more friends came and went, joining you in the group, before being pulled away. For a while, you sat on the stool beside Enzo, listening to Mattheo retell the story of their competition to get numbers.
You let Enzo pull you onto the dance floor again, and even Mattheo, who swung you off-beat and out of sync to a song in his head, certainly not the one being played, but it made you laugh until your stomach hurt, so it was worth it. You danced with the girls too, and exchanged gossip in hushed whispers as you moved across the checkered floor.
It always ended with you stumbling back to Enzo, progressively building more of a buzz as the night went on, falling back into the security of his arms. And he was always there, smiling, tucking hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead as he asked you whether you were having fun. For the first time in a long time at one of these events, you could say yes.
Only as the hour was finally approaching midnight, less than fifteen minutes to go, did you all leave. Mattheo ordered several bottles of champagne, gathering two in his hands and passing two more to Theo. Then, he was commanding you all to follow him, and marching away without another word.
You shared a look with Enzo, before hopping down, following after him with an equally puzzled group. Your hand found Enzo’s quickly, a comfortable act that had become familiar far too quickly, but just for tonight, you didn’t care. Not as Mattheo led you down all and corridors, away from all the noise.
Not as he led you all up, until you were exiting onto the roof. Below you, chatter filled the courtyard as the party guests began to file out onto the patio, ready to witness the fireworks. The view would be uninterrupted from here, a perfect view of it all, and a contented sound left your lips.
Staring up at the night sky, stars twinkled in the cold void, and you rubbed one arm lightly as you stared into the vast openness. Only a second later, a jacket was slipping over your shoulders, and Enzo was turning you to him, guiding your arms through each of the sleeves, bashfully.
“Told you I was a good date.” He winked, hand on your back as you followed the rest of your friends to sit down.
“You said you were a fun date,”
“Well then, I’m a good and fun date.” He effectively ended the conversation with a kiss to your cheek, hand sliding dangerously low on your back as you gathered with the others. A couple of benches and boxes were up here, stacks of pallets for makeshift seating, and you settled onto one, Enzo following you down.
Once you were sat, he pulled you in, tucking you into the heat of his side, and you curled in closer, twisting to face him. “Tonight has been… wonderful. Thank you.”
“Are you kidding? Thank you.” He whispered, nose brushing your hairline as the words were whispered onto your skin. “Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve ever had, and I never thought I’d say that about one of these parties.”
You fiddled with the edge of the sleeves hanging over your palms, grinning at him. Your head fell to his shoulder, and your gaze moved to scan over your friends. Draco and Astoria were cuddling equally as sweetly, as were Blaise and Daphne. Luna and Pansy were nowhere to be seen, but Tom and Reggie stood at the edge of the roof, talking quietly. Mattheo and Theo were bent over laughing, trying to pop the corks on the bottles, and almost taking out each other’s eyes each time.
When a bottle was passed to you and Enzo, fizzing over the top and foaming on the wooden palette you perched on, you took a sip. The bitter liquid fizzed on your tongue just as the countdown began to sound from all of the people below.
“Ten, nine, eight…” Mattheo screamed, arms held up in the air with his excitement.
“Seven, six, five…” You murmured, sitting up straighter as the anticipation of the new year came in.
“Four, three, two…” Enzo joined you, your face turning to smile at him as you heard his voice mix with yours.
“One.” You spoke, just as Enzo leaned in. His lips closed over your own, warm and spicy from the lingering remnants of firewhiskey, and you groaned against his mouth. As you did, his hand slipped up to your cheek, angling your head just right as his tongue slid into your mouth.
He kissed slow, and deep, like he had all the time in the world to be here. You were gripping his shoulder, kissing back with just as much passion, sliding closer to him until there was no space between your body and his. Your thigh pressed to his own, his hand on your cheek slipping into your hair as he pulled back for a breath, just to dive right back in.
And you loved it, leaning forward, chasing his lips, kissing him until you couldn’t think straight, couldn't think at all, unless it was about him.
Finally, he pulled back, to the cheering and celebrating of your friends as the New Year rolled in. Fireworks began to explode behind you, and you sighed, breath clouding in the night air and floating up to the sky. Licking the taste of him from your lip as you panted, his nose bumped your own.
“What was that for?” You mumbled, the way he kissed you still playing over and over again in your mind like a loop.
“Because when we go back,” He stole another kiss, your lips stretching in a smile as his palm engulfed your cheek. “I’d love to take you on a real date.”
You’d never looked at him like this before, never let yourself consider what it would be like to date Enzo. That urge had never arisen, everything between you both had always been platonic, he was one of your best friends. Now, as those pretty eyes opened up to stare at you, he was anything but platonic.
He was pretty, in a way you’d acknowledged but never appreciated before. Loyal in a best friend way, but would doubtless be a wonderful boyfriend. He was doting, and kind, and sweet. He was cheeky and funny and caring. He was here, and interested, and if tonight had proven anything, it was your compatibility.
You and Enzo worked well together, you made a great couple, and for the first time ever, he was staring at you in a way that made you think he wanted to take your clothes off. And you liked it.
The choice seemed clear.
“I’d like that too, Enzo.”
#lorenzo berkshire#enzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire x you#lorenzo berkshire/reader#lorenzo berkshire/you#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire x you#enzo berkshire/reader#enzo berkshire/you#harry potter#HP#slytherin boys#louis partridge
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ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ
callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)
In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.
✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions
✣ word count: 2.7k
✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:
masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune
based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are.
He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally.
When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.
“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.
“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”
Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”
“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”
You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible.
“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.
“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”
Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”
You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”
You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”
Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”
“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”
Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.
You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.
You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.
“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.
Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”
The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking.
“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”
“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”
“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”
You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”
“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”
You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.
“Still do, actually. Love you.”
Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”
“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”
“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”
“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”
“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.
Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”
Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.
“Prove it how?”
“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.
You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”
“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”
“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”
Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.
“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.
“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”
Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.
“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”
A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.
“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”
“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.
“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.
He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.
“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.
“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.
He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.
He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot.
“Callum, please,” you whine.
“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”
“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”
“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.
Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.
“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”
“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.
You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.
“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.
“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.
“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.
You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.
“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”
“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.
Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you.
“That was…”
“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you,
“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”
“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”
“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”
The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.
#callum turner#callum turner x reader#callum turner x reader smut#callum turner smut#callum turner fanfic#callum turner fanfiction#callum turner fic#callum turner imagine#floralcyanide writes
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come to bed?
fluffy! hyunjin x reader,
2am, you quietly enter your home. it’s dark, it’s quiet, no sign of hyunjin.
the smell of freshly baked bread still lingers after hyunjin spent the evening trying to recreate his mother’s apple bread.
tiptoeing into the bedroom, you’re careful not to wake your sleeping boyfriend.
dropping your bags, you hear shuffling coming from the bed.
“baby?” hyunjin peeks from under the covers.
“oh- i’m sorry! did i wake you?” you worry.
“no, no, i’ve been up for a while. come to bed?” he ushers you.
“i will, need to shower first though.” you reassure your impatient lover.
he whines in protest as you bend to give him a quick kiss on the forehead before you maliciously abandon him yet again.
you hurriedly shower, eager to finally get some time with hyunjin after your long night.
finally climbing into your comfortable bed, hyunjin turns around to wrap his arms around you and hold you impossibly close, placing a few very soft kisses along your crown.
“how was it? did you have fun?” he asks, brushing your hair through his fingers.
“i guess it was fun, missed you though. it’s just hard to have fun being away from-”
her.
there’s that familiar sound again.
“i got it, you’re tired, go to sleep.” he spoke before kissing your forehead and unbinding you from each other.
rolling over and grabbing the baby monitor from his bedside, hyunjin mutes it before hopping out of bed.
he’s already heading out the door of your bedroom before you could say a word.
he told you to stay but you can’t help it. you follow behind him quickly, a man on a mission, his long legs carrying faster than yours ever could this late into the night.
nearly out of breath, placing your hands on his hips, you peek from behind hyunjin.
normally he would jump at the sudden touch from behind, but he was far too focused on the issue at hand.
“aigoo~ why is my baby crying?” he coos as he gently picks her up from her crib. he holds her gently in his arms and begins to ever-so-lightly rock her.
almost immediately she stops crying.
all you can do is sit back and watch in awe.
hyunjin has always been the favorite between the two of you, but you don’t really mind. she’s still your baby and of course she still loves you with all the emotion she can process at six months old.
she’s such a daddy’s girl and it absolutely melts your heart.
you sit on the chair in the corner of the room, overwhelmed with drowsiness. through tired eyes, you watch your boyfriend sing a makeshift song to try and get your daughter back to sleep.
“i think she’s hungry” he says as he turns to you sitting behind him.
except you’re sound asleep.
so once he’s finished feeding your daughter and putting her back to sleep, he gently scoops you from the chair, careful not to wake you— though not successful— and takes you back to bed.
you let out a whine in protest of him disturbing your sleep, but that doesn’t stop him from ensuring you’re comfortable. he tucks you in before then tucking himself in, settling into your previous position with your limbs intertwined, and placing kisses on your temple with some incoherent whispers in between.
forget his career, he’d rather spend his life taking care of the two of you if it meant moments like this.
a/n: i literally wrote this months ago and never posted it but baby fever got the best of me 💔
#skz fluff#skz scenarios#stray kids#stray kids fluff#stray kids x reader#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x reader#skz hyunjin#skz x reader#skz imagines
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Saw the episode. Ascended to a higher plane. Wrote a small Coda that is as messy as my brain is right now. Bone Apple Tea.
"Heyyyyyy Buck!" Eddie answers the phone with a drawn out salutation that proves Tommy was not lying about him being sent away from the hospital with the good drugs. Or, not lying about the prescription, but about Eddie actually taking them. It wasn't so long ago that Eddie would take enough medicine to avoid being in agony, but never quite enough to actually feel relief. He wouldn't do that for Tommy, however close they are. It's something that Eddie's doing for himself. Buck's stomach was a swarm of butterflies three seconds ago, but that and the floaty happy way Eddie still says his name, has him smiling again in his kitchen.
"Hey Eddie. I, um, I'm sorry to call so late. I just wanted to see how- how you were doing."
"Eh, I'll miss a shift or two. But Doc says I'll be ready to go for playoffs," Eddie answers.
Guilt twists through him, harsh and acidic and Buck says, "Well I'm glad to hear that. They say the team doesn't have a chance without you and your, um, sky dunk." Eddie laughs, giggles really, in reply and Buck says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't know why I did that. I mean- I- I know why. I was jealous of you and- and Tommy-" Buck's heart flips as he says his name and he's afraid the kiss is going to come flying out of his mouth and down the phone line- "But I never wanted you to get hurt like that."
"You wanted me to get hurt different?" Eddie asks, still laughing, but Buck feels stricken.
"No! I- maybe. I don't know what I wanted. I lost my mind for a little bit."
"You were jealous," Eddie repeats.
"Yeah, I was."
A long sigh and Eddie says, "I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I was the asshole. I could have- I knocked you out of your shoe."
"Do you have my shoe?" Eddie asks, more focused than he has been the rest of the conversation. Buck can hear him sitting up on the couch.
"Uh, no. No, I gave it to Chim. He's gonna give it to you when he sees you. And probably make about 50 Cinderella jokes."
"Right. He texted me. I remember."
"I'm sure he'll bring it by sooner if you need it. Or he could give it to Tommy." The flush is there again, hot down the back of his neck. Buck doesn't know how he's supposed to do this. Where is he supposed to keep all of this heat and possibility while he waits for Saturday.
"You don't like him."
"Who? Chim? He's growing on me."
"Tommy," Eddie answers in a tone that says duh. "You can't even say his name normal."
Of course Eddie can hear that. Of course he assumes that's the problem after the way Buck has acted since the moment they met the man. He thanks god that he decided to call instead of driving across town and checking on Eddie in person. His cheeks and his ears are burning like fire.
"He can tell, you know. We both can. He said he's going to come talk to you. Gave him your address. Wants to apologize." Eddie must have settled back down on the couch. He sounds sleepier, his sentences getting shorter and more breathy.
"He did. He um. He came by. We talked it out. I told him you guys didn't have anything to apologize for. I was the one who made it weird."
"So weird," Eddie agrees and Buck laughs. "You guys should be friends. He's awesome and you're awesome and we can all hang out together and it would be..."
"Awesome," Buck finishes. He thinks it might be.
"I forgot you don't know that."
"Know what?" Buck asks, when Eddie's mumble doesn't come with any additional clarification. "Eddie?"
"Hmm?"
"Never mind. Hey, you should get up and go to your bed. Sleeping on that couch is not going to help your ankle heal any faster."
"Tommy said that."
"Tommy's right. Come on."
Eddie groans as he sits up, cursing at Buck in what he thinks is under his breath, and asks, "You talked to Tommy?"
"Yeah, he just left."
"And we're okay? You like him now?"
Buck's blood roars through his ears and he wants to throw up and start laughing all at the same time. "Yeah, I think I do."
"Good."
He breathes through the sudden headrush as Eddie grumbles and hops his way off the couch and down the hall. Buck knows where he's finding his handholds by the echo off the walls and he winces when Eddie takes a misstep and swears again. He thinks for a second that he should be there, that he should help Eddie to bed, but Eddie would never let him. Buck wonders if Tommy would let him. He's wondering about so much now and he never did before.
"Hey, Eds?" The question is out before Buck realizes he's asking it, small and vulnerable, and he wants to claw it back and swallow it down before Eddie notices, but he doesn't have a chance.
"Yeah?"
Tommy kissed me. I want him to do it again.
"No, nothing. Just. I'm sorry. I was out of line."
"You were," Eddie answers. "And I forgive you."
Something settles in Buck then. A piece that had still been sitting off kilter and jamming painfully under his ribs. He takes a deep breath, and joy washes fully over him, calming and centering. He doesn't ask the question again though. He thinks he wants to keep this tiny, glowing treasure to himself. At least for a little while.
"Bring me my shoe back and we'll call it even."
Buck laughs, letting the sound ring out through his apartment and he can hear Eddie smiling on the other end of the phone.
#idk what this is#my brain exited my body several hours ago#it's not the fic i said i was writing in my head that's for sure#7.04#buck bothered and bewildered#episode coda#911 fic#evan buck buckley#911 spoilers#allison writes
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never let go.
a/n: listen i know i just wrote nightmare trope on my other blog but this is for my fragmented dreams fans (it's me i'm the fan). also BIG shoutout to that anon a few days ago cause i wasn't feeling motivated until i saw that in my inbox anon u are my whole world
content: soothing a certain doctor after a hard night.
WARNINGS: brief depictions of a nightmare (zayne's pov)
zayne × gen!reader (you/your).
fluff + comfort.
it was hard to see zayne like this. already exhausted from long nights of risky procedures, he could barely get any rest from his nightmare plagued mind. day after day, you saw the fatigue building up, his eyes dull no matter what he did. you decided you'd seen enough, and if anything, you were sure that he'd had enough as well.
luckily, it wasn't hard to get zayne to accept an invitation to stay overnight at your place. perhaps it was the tiredness that made his mind bleary, having him say yes before he even realised. or perhaps it was the idea of having you around him; sleep wasn't easy whether he was alone or with someone else, but zayne couldn't deny that you being close soothed his mind ever so slightly.
“ready to go home?” you poked your head through his office door, catching a glimpse of a the tail end of a yawn.
zayne turned his head to look at you, gaze foggy as he tried to process it all. he gave a low hum in return, pushing his chair back to give him room to stand up. “you're earlier than i thought you'd be.”
you slipped through the doorway, shutting it behind you with your foot as you made your way in. “i cleared the wanderer zone pretty quickly. after all, i'm a really good hunter,” you laughed, setting your backpack down on the ground to stretch.
“really now?” the corners of zayne's mouth curled up in amusement. you wondered when the last time he really smiled was. he stifled another yawn as he hung his lab coat up, exchanging it for a grey cardigan. “let's get going.”
you ordered delivery to your apartment while zayne drove back to your place. the silence was comforting, and yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on in zayne's mind that he let on. as you stepped out of the car, you shot the doctor a worried look. “i know you're usually not talkative, but is there something that's bothering you?”
zayne said nothing, instead shrugging his bag onto his shoulder and nodding towards your building. although quiet, you were certain you heard him whisper a low “later,” as he locked the car doors and headed off.
the delivery man caught you just before you closed your front door, handing the bag off to you before scuttling away. the sight made you laugh, and to your delight, zayne was also chuckling under his breath. after a moment, you shuffled him inside, setting the food down on the counter and your bag next to the couch. “you shower first, zayne. i'm gonna make some tea first.”
“sure.” with muffled steps, zayne disappeared into the washroom, leaving you to your own devices. it wasn't long before there were two cups of tea on the counter, and you carefully sipped yours while waiting for zayne to finish. he was silent when he came out; you didn't realise he had finished until you felt his arms wrap around your waist and his nose bury into your hair. you placed a hand on top of his, ghosting over the backs of his knuckles as he spoke. “you’re warm.”
“mmhmm. and as per usual, you're freezing.” you craned your neck up to look at him, reaching up with your other hand to trace his jawline. “here’s your tea. you can go ahead and start eating if you're hungry, too. i should freshen up.” zayne made a quiet sound of affirmation, slowly releasing you from his grasp while you shifted off your chair. a part of you hurt to leave him like that, but you figured that the sooner you could finish your night routine, the better.
you came out of the shower not long after, padding back into the living room to find zayne sitting comfortably on your couch with a book open. “zayne,” you called softly, waiting for him to turn his head up at you. when he did, you grabbed at the spine of the book, folding it closed before taking it away from him. “i invited you over to take it easy, not to read the medical journals you snuck back with you. did you even eat anything?”
zayne hummed in response, as he always did. “yes. i set aside your favourites already.”
“that wasn’t exactly necessary,” you mumbled. “anyways, it’s getting late. aren’t you tired?”
he placed the book down on the coffee table, shoulders slouching as he leaned forward. “it’s nothing more than usual.”
“liar.” with your lips pressed into a thin line, you leaned down towards the raven haired man, poking at his forehead accusingly. “you actually look even worse than usual.”
“how kind of you.” you tapped at his forehead a few more times, only stopping when zayne took your hand in his and pulled it down. you could hardly feel the way his fingers tightened around yours, but his expression gave him away.
with a sigh, you took your free hand and ran it through his hair. “come on. if i can protect linkon city from wanderers, i think i can protect you while you’re asleep.”
in a rare moment of vulnerability, zayne pressed further into your palm, exhaling softly as he did. “then i suppose we can give it a shot.”
cheering internally, you couldn't help the smile that creeped onto your face. the hand that zayne had trapped in his began to pull him up from the couch, waiting until he was steady on his feet before leading him to your bedroom. once inside, you crawled on top of the mattress, never once letting go of him as he followed suit. the last remaining traces of the sunset glow slowly disappeared from sight, leaving your bedroom under the gentle cascade of moonlight. you let go of zayne for a second to hop off the bed again, switching off the ceiling light and then returning to lay down next to him.
a low chuckle sounded from his chest as you bounced in your spot. “well? what's your great plan this time?”
“the plan is to wait until you fall asleep.”
“and do you expect that to happen soon?”
“i do.” you adjusted yourself onto your side. with some effort, you threw the blanket over yourself and zayne, burrowing your body in for a brief second before stretching out and beckoning to him. “come here.” zayne didn’t bother with a response, only giving you an unreadable look. but after a few seconds, zayne resigned, bringing himself towards you. you couldn’t help but give him an exasperated look when he stopped further from you than you wanted. “closer,” you murmured, sliding an arm around his waist and tugging him in. “i can’t hold you if you’re so far away.”
a sigh slipped past his lips. yet despite the way he sounded annoyed, zayne accepted the invitation, tucking his head down into the dip of your shoulder as he wound his arms around you. legs became tangled in seconds, and you could’ve sworn you felt him sigh in relief when you started carding your hand through his hair. “so your plan is to make sure i can’t run away,” zayne hummed against your skin. you laughed at the accusation, and for a fleeting second, zayne felt like the sound could heal him from anything.
“i might as well try to keep you from working.” were it possible, you would have pulled him closer. instead, you settled by pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “sleep, zayne. i won’t let go.”
the words echoed in his mind, resonated in his heart; but the next time he opened his eyes, there was only an empty space next to him. “y/n?” panic rooted in his chest, sitting upright to find nothing but silence. zayne climbed off the bed, fear driving him to look through the windows. outside, wanderers flooded the streets, turning it into a sea of black. for a moment, zayne caught a familiar face; and he could do nothing but watch as you were drowned in the abyss.
you kept stroking up and down his back rhythmically, attempting to soothe zayne’s restless movement. eventually, his eyes flew open, gaze misty as he suddenly gripped onto you. you waited until his breathing steadied, continuing to draw circles into his skin even after he had calmed. “another nightmare?”
zayne exhaled deeply, turning his face down so he could press his forehead against your collarbone. “you didn’t let go.”
your other hand returned to his head, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. “i told you i wouldn’t.” the way zayne shivered didn’t go unnoticed. unsure if it was the cold or his fear, you tightened the blanket around the both of you as best you could. “go back to sleep. it hasn’t even been two hours.”
zayne spoke again, barely audible. “will you let go?” and then he felt your chin, gently moving side to side across his head.
“not in a million lifetimes.”
silence fell like snow, with only the sound of your intertwined breathing filling the room. with a final sigh, zayne closed his eyes and pressed himself into you, searing your warmth into his soul as if it were the last time he could.
and this time, when zayne dreams, he dreams of a certain hunter, and of a field of jasmines.
a/n: happy actual first post!! the urge to write "rei" instead of zayne and "MC" instead of "y/n" was ridiculously high. also his new card?!?#?@?@: i'm on the ground ......
reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace rei#love and deepspace li shen#zayne#zayne love and deepspace#zayne x reader#lads zayne#zayne x you#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace fluff#aris writes ❄️
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COME HERE, DRESSED IN BLACK NOW !
masterlist
pairing: politian!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
warnings: smut, degradation, dirty talk, oral (m. receiving and f. receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, tummy bulge, cream pie, choking
summary: coriolanus keeps you on a tight leash but when you act out he needs to put you in your place.
a/n: this is literally the first thing i ever wrote on this account but never finished. when i take my time to actually write well😧😧😧😧 it’s so mf long sorry it just got lore (like 4000 words)
Coriolanus had chosen you. You were the one with the ring on your finger. The one with his initials around your neck. You were his.
That didn’t prevent him from being cold and distant. Locked up in his office during the and into the night occasionally. Breakfast and dinner he sat across from you with his eyes scanning the newspaper.
You weren’t his fiancée, you were his pawn. Someone for him to show off, someone to carry his heirs.
In public, he’d wrap his arm around your waist, tugging you tight to his side. You didn’t know if it was to show you were a happy couple or territorial.
Maybe he didn’t love you, or even like you. But, nonetheless, you belonged to him. The abomination it would be to his reputation to have his fiancée acting out. For you to act like a whore in public. So he kept you on a tight leash.
Most the time.
Tonight was your engagement party. He let you plan an extravagant gala, whatever you wanted he got you. You chose the theme, the music, the food. Of course, he chose the people. Running for president and such requires the right people at your events.
And tonight, you got to choose your own gown. It was black and tight, to go along with your theme. You chose black and silver, knowing you had the perfect heels.
Coriolanus doesn’t share a bedroom with you, he claims it’s inappropriate considering you two aren’t married yet. But that didn’t stop him from slipping his hand under your skirt two weeks ago. You and Coriolanus haven’t gone the full way in weeks, that was your goal for tonight.
When Coriolanus decided he wanted to fuck you, it was to release his frustrations not yours. He fucked you because he needed it. You never really came, it was your problem not his. Your fingers never helped.
He said once before that it doesn't count if he isn't making love to you, and he wasn't.
Living with him for two months, you’ve picked up a few things. You know what makes him itch, what makes him needy. You know damn well that he would’ve stand for a brat as fiancée, but you knew he wouldn’t leave you.
You just wanted his attention, for him to really need you. Not a stress fuck, not a pity kiss. You wanted him to crave you. You knew he was possessive, he never hid that side of him. You knew he was a jealous man, that one he wouldn't willingly admit. You knew exactly what strings to pull to have him trail right after you.
He had technically paid for this dress, it was tight and hugged your body in all the places you needed. Long enough to be considered modern, neckline low enough to be considered slutty. The necklace with his initial "C" hanging around your neck, just above your cleavage. You wore sheer black shawl around your arms to cover up if needed be.
You heard heavy footsteps down the hall, an assertive knock on the door to your bedroom. You tug down your neckline slightly, padding over to the door. You turned the knob, pulling open the door to see Coriolanus. His blond curls now slicked neatly, instead of a red suit he wore plain black.
Coriolanus leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable as he observed you getting ready. The engagement part loomed, and in his stoic demeanor, there was a hint of the complexities that lay beneath.
Catching his eye as you adjusted her gown. "Yes?" You questioned, sensing the tension in his demeanor. The one-word exchange hung in the air.
"Guests will be arriving soon, we'll need to be greeting them together." He stated matter-of-factly, his voice was cold, emotionless. He was so perfect, in the sense of his posture and the way he carried himself. His eyes bore into yours, avoiding looking at your body.
A quiet "Mhm" escaping your lips, acknowledging him.
Coriolanus eyes flickered down to the swell of your breasts over your neckline. His initial decorating your chest on a pendant. His fingers pulling at your straps, adjusting your dress.
"You have a reputation; don't taint it." He murmured, then pulling his hand away from your gown. You look up at him with furrowed brows. He bit back any more remarks before dismissing himself. The weight of those words lingered, a stern reminder to uphold the image he deemed crucial in their shared world.
You close the door as he leaves, locking it. You walk back over the the mirror, confused with your emotions. Did he even want you? You looked in the mirror, a large diamond decorating your finger, his necklace hanging from your neck.
You fix up your hair, touch up your makeup and slid on your heels. They certainly gave you a few inches, something Coriolanus secretly enjoyed. He was still taller than you, enough for you to look up at him even in heels.
Your heels clicked against the marble floors as you made your way down the stairs. Coriolanus was making sure everything was properly set up as you'd like. Your hand slid down the railing, careful to keep your balance. You looked into the large opulent room, decorated just like how you had imagined. You felt a cool hand on your waist, spinning to see Coriolanus.
"Coryo," You slightly pull away. You watched as his eyes traveling down your body, admiring you.
"Coriolanus tonight, I don't want any of those silly nicknames in front of my peers." He explains, you nodding along feeling slightly embarrassed. Knowing you were barely an exception to use his nickname.
As the first guests began to arrive, a hum of anticipation filled the air. Coriolanus was at his peak of campaigning for presidency. This was the night to socialize with colleagues, his fellow peers. To win presidency.
Your friends were here, other wives of other politicians. Tigris was invited by you, despite Coriolanus' concerns. Which you never understood and he'd never tell you why.
Coriolanus hadn't paid attention to you since the first guest arrived, chatting with other wealthy men. You sat at a table engaging in mindless banter with the other housewives. You watch Coriolanus from across the room, he smiled and nodded, laughing along with jokes you knew he didn't care for.
This was supposed to be your night, and he was viewing this as a business opportunity?
You stood up from your chair, your heels clicking as you walked across the large room in attempt to find a server with champagne. You felt an hand grasp your shoulder, you turn around expecting the face of your dear fiancé. Instead a man that you knew worked alongside him, fairly handsome but not like Coriolanus.
"Mrs. Snow?" He smiles, greeting you with a hug. You looked behind him, Coriolanus still engaging in business matters. You look back at the man, somewhat eye level.
"Not quite yet," You giggle, showing your engagement ring. You weren't going to be his wife for a few more months at least. Not until he won his votes.
"I see, he better lock you in before another man comes by to steal you. Beautiful woman you are." The man laughs, you fake a smile in return. Muttering a thank you, giggling at the things he said. You acted wine drunk knowing you'd yet to consume any alcohol. "Coriolanus is a lucky man."
"That he is," You nod, fingers rubbing at the initial around your neck. The man softly grabbed your hand, pulling it away to see the necklace that hung over your chest. His eyes slightly skimming your breasts.
"A gift I assume?" He raises a brow, letting go of the necklace. His eyes skimmed your body, eyes that you wish belonged to Coriolanus. Yet, another man was in front of you instead.
"Yes, it is." You tell the man, nodding along to whatever he spewed out of his mouth. You laughed at his jokes knowing they weren't remotely funny. He snuck in comments about your appearance and how Coriolanus isn't deserving of your beauty. You simply laughed or nodded, looking back every now or then to see if Coriolanus had noticed.
You were too busy engaging in borderline inappropriate conversations with a random man too notice the jealous eye of your fiancé. His glare burning into your skin from ten feet away.
Engaged in a brief exchange, the man and you exchanged a playful banter and subtle glances, an unexpected flirtation unfolding amidst the lively atmosphere of the engagement party.
Excusing yourself from the flirtatious encounter, you gracefully departed to fix up your makeup. The brief interlude offered a moment of solitude to gather thoughts and make subtle adjustments. You adjusted the necklace that bore his initial. Fingers traced the letter delicately.
Emerging from the bathroom, Coriolanus swiftly found you in the midst of the lively engagement party. Without a word, he decisively grabbed your wrist, his touch conveying a complex blend of urgency and emotion.
Unable to contain his rising frustration, Coriolanus discreetly pulled you away from the buzzing crowd, finding a quieter corridor outside the opulent ballroom.
"Cory-- Coriolanus, you're hurting me." You tried pulling your arm from his grip, his grip unrelenting. If any thing he grabbed your arm harder. "Please."
The tension was palpable as he confronted you, "What was that back there? Flaunting your charms with my business partners? This is not the image we need."
You met his gaze defiantly, "I was playing the game, Coriolanus. Networking is about connections, you know it as much as I do."
His grip tightened subtly, "There's a line between networking and crossing boundaries. You risk our reputation and my patience with such antics."
Their hushed argument unfolded in the dimly lit corridor, a class of personal wills against a backdrop of Capitol politics.
"Who do you think you are?" He spat, his cold gaze that bore into yours. Yours that pleaded for an ounce of his attention that you silently begged for and craved. His eyes ablaze with frustration and distain.
"What--" The retort caught you off guard, and you stammered.
"Flirting with other men, men I work with at that." His voice got louder, echoing in the halls.
Your response was immediate but defensive. "I didn--"
He cut you off sharply, "Don't talk. I have a reputation to upkeep and you walked around like a dog in heat. Look at you. Your breasts practically spilling right out of that dress, thinking I wouldn't notice? How do you expect me to marry you when all you are is a unworthy slut?"
"How else am I supposed to get your attention?" You demanded, frustration evident in your voice. "You ignore me all the time."
He scoffed, "When do I ignore you?"
"Breakfast, dinner, we sleep in separate beds." You retorted. your words laden a mix of hurt and exasperation.
Coriolanus remained indifferent, "Don't expect me to see you as anything other than a business proposition." The coldness in his tone reflected the harsh reality of being in love with Coriolanus Snow.
You scoffed, a laugh laced in your voice. "Then why are you jealous?"
Coriolanus' demeanor remained composed, but a flicker of irritation cross his face. "Jealous of what? You?"
You gestured towards yourself, the fabric of your gown catching the ambient light. "Look at you."
His response was a calculated blend of dismissal and condescension. "Your lucky I don't teach you your place."
You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at him. "My place?"
"Under me." His proximity increased, a subtle threat in his hushed tone. A pregnant paused lingered, the air charged with unsaid sentiments, before he sought clarity. You were turning on your heel back to the party. "Where are you going?"
"My party." You said with unwavering authority.
His challenge echoed, "My room, as soon as your party is over. Don't think to defy it." He asserted, the words resonating in the rich tapestry of Capitol politics. "And fix your lipstick." He added, his demand punctuating the intricacies of control and appearance in their tumultuous engagement.
You quickly ran back off into the bathroom. The soft glow of vanity lights highlighted the subtle imperfections on your face. With a deep breath, you delicately traced the edge of your lips with a tissue attempting to salvage the remnants of your carefully applied lipstick. Embarrassed enough that you had just fought with your fiancé with smeared lipstick.
As the night wore on, the opulent party unfolded in a crescendo of laughter, music and discreet conversations within the grandeur dining hall. Time seemed to stretch, each moment etching its own narrative against the backdrop of celebration. You got antsy by the second, assertive glances between you and Coriolanus throughout the rest of the night.
As the night progressed, the energy in the room began to shift. Guests gradually bid their farewells, and the once lively dance floor saw fewer couples swaying to the music. The atmosphere transformed, signaling the inevitable conclusion of the extravagant affair.
After the last guest bid their farewell, the once bustling corridors of the Capitol estate fell into a hushed stillness. In the wake of the elaborate celebration, you moved through the halls with a determined grace, your footsteps echoing in the quiet.
The dimly lit corridor leading to Coriolanus' bedroom felt like a clandestine pathway into a realm of secrecy. The rich tapestries and plush carpets absorbed the sound, adding an air of intimacy to the silence that enveloped the grand estate.
Your heartbeat quickened as you approached the closed door, the polished wood bearing silent witness to the unspoken tensions of the night.
With a hesitant hand, you reached for the doorknob, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of you skin. As the door creaked open, revealing the private sanctum of Coriolanus, the complexities of their relations in the air of the night.
"Coriolanus--" You whispered into the dim room. You listened to the patter of water against a shower floor. Light emitting from the crack from under the polished door to his private bathroom.
You stood there momentarily, a mix of nerves and yet a feel of need. The soft hum of the shower created a subtle backdrop, underscoring the clandestine nature of their relationship. You sat on the edge of his, your heels falling to the ground at the end of the bed.
As Coriolanus stepped out of the shower, the air was heavy with lingering warmth and the faint scent of soap and the cologne that had been trapped in the room just hours prior. Your lips parted as droplets of water glistened on his skin as he emerged. His gaze met yours, a silence settling between them.
Even though Coriolanus had summoned you, his demeanor remained unchanged as he emerged from the bathroom, his gaze piercing through yours. "I asked you here, didn't I?"
"I wanted to apologiz--" You said, the vulnerability in her words hanging in the air. Coriolanus' gaze, still edged with a hint of distain, bore into her.
Coriolanus' lips curled into a sneer as he delivered a cutting blow. "Apologizing won't erase the fact that you behaved like a slut at our engagement party," He spat, the harshness of his words echoing in the ornate bedroom.
"M'not a slut," Your words held a determined edge, refusal to admit the way his words made your thighs clench.
Despite the verbal exchange, a surprising surge of arousal pulsed through you. Your eyes, previously aflame with defiance, now carried a subtle glint of desire.
With a cruel glint in his eyes, Coriolanus seized the opportunity to assert dominance.
"You're nothing more than a pawn in this game, a desperate attempt at securing my status," He sneered, his words dripping with degradation. Your facade of defiance faltered, replaced by a momentary vulnerability. The plush surroundings seemed to close in as he continued, "You thought you could manipulate me with your feeble attempts at seduction? Pathetic."
As Coriolanus closed the distance, his proximity became suffocating, his presence an imposing force. His gaze bore into yours.
The air thickened with tension. In a surprising turn, Coriolanus abruptly seized you by the chin, his actions a mixture of dominance and an unexpected shift in dynamics. His lips crashed onto yours, a forceful kiss that bordered on the line between punishment and desire.
As your lips met, the kiss became a collision of conflicting desires. Coriolanus's grip on your chin tightened, asserting dominance even in this intimate act. His teeth clashing again yours, kissing you with passion and hunger.
The kiss deepened, the hunger for control and passion intertwining in a complex dance. Coriolanus's grip on your chin loosened slightly, his fingers threading into your hair as if staking a claim. His other hand going to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek. The intensity of the kiss became a ravenous exchange, each probing movement a manifestation of unspoken desires.
Breaking the kiss with a gleam in his eyes, Coriolanus's voice resonated a lingering sense of control. "You wanted my attention; you have it,"
His words hung in the air. As he spoke, Coriolanus maintained a calculating gaze, savoring the vulnerability beneath her desire for attention.
Their intimate connection, a collision of hunger and control, lingered in the room, leaving the boundaries between dominance and submission increasingly blurred. The air seemed to crackle with the unspoken, a potent mix of power and desire entwined in the complex web they wove together.
Your defiant gaze met his, and with a surprising admission, he declared, "You think I don't notice you? I'm obsessed with you."
The revelation hung in the air, a subtle shift in the power dynamics of their engagement. The lines between dominance and surrender blurred further.
"You are?" You questioned, a mix of surprise and uncertainty lacing your tone. How could he be obsessed with you? He couldn't even look at you during dinner.
As the revelation settled between them, you took a step back, your gaze wary yet intrigued. In response, Coriolanus, with a predatory confidence, closed the distance by stepping forward, his presence magnetic. "You're the one with my ring, our possession goes both ways, and don't think I don't know that."
You furrowed your brows, looking into his once cold expressionless eyes. Now filled with need and passion. Your lips parted, water droplets decorating his skin.
"What do you mean?" You asked, a mix of curiosity and confusion. Needing answers for this mind trip he was taking you on.
Coriolanus, standing his ground, met her gaze with a cryptic smile. "Our possession of each other isn't one-sided. Your ring on my finger is as much a symbol of my claim as it is yours. Don't underestimate the reciprocity in our entanglement," He explained, his words carrying a blend of assertion and intrigue.
The bedroom, now a silent witness, seemed to echo the breathing between them. A wry smile played on Coriolanus's lips as he acknowledged, "You'd have my head if I so much as looked at another woman."
The acknowledgment hung in the air, a testament to the fragile balance of power and possessiveness in their engagement.
Your response held a mix of conviction and playfulness, "I would."
The air in the room seemed to thicken with the unspoken consequences, a tacit understanding that their engagement carried a weight of possessiveness and potential retribution. Coriolanus, with a hunger fueled by possession and desire, closed the remaining distance. Your lips met in a hungry kiss, a collision of fervor and dominance.
The lines between power, obsession, and desire blurred further. His wet bare skin rubbing into the fabric of your dress. His hand at the back of your head pulling you into the kiss further. His tongue pushing past your lips, dominating the kiss.
"I feel bad," You admitted, pulling away from the kiss.
"Then apologize," Coriolanus responded, his tone demanding. His jaw was clenched, staring back down into your eyes. He tilted your head up to looking down at you, his obsession and possessiveness bleeding from his stare.
His lips parted as you kneeled down in front of him. A pool of arousal coating your panties. Staring back up at him as your delicately pull off the towel around his waist. You awed at the way his hardness slapped against his stomach.
"Go on, apologize." He ordered, voice laced with need. You felt his gaze burning against you as you nodded. You slowly traced his cock with your finger, a breathy moan leaving his soft lips. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, slowly stroking him.
His jealousy and possession relieving his body, you were the one on your knees for him. No other man could take that from him.
He tilted his head back as your hot tongue slid across the tip of his cock. Experimentally licking off the precum before running it under the tip. Your hand still stroking his length, looking up at him for a reaction. The way his lips parted encouraging you to run your tongue along his length, "More."
You took his length into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you took his cock deeper into your mouth. You slid your free hand under your dress, between your legs.
Coriolanus' voice laced with mockery. "Not a slut, huh? Look at your taking my cock in your mouth."
He thrusted his hips, cock bullying the back of your throat. You gagged as he slammed into the back of his throat. Saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth.
"Mouth so full you can't even speak." He mocked, pulling the hair out of your face. A sense of accomplishment bubbling in him as he watched your eyes roll back, bubbles of spit spilling down your chin. "I think I like you better this way."
Your nails scratched at his thighs, taking the cock that he pounded into your throat. Tears staining your cheeks, his thumbing coming to wipe them away. Smearing them down your flushed cheeks.
"Fuck-- That's it." A moan rippling from his throat, echoing into the room. His hand pushed your face flush against his pelvic bone.
The way your hot tongue slid under the protruding vein under his cock making him gasp. His cock slid in and out of your warm mouth with ease, abusing your throat.
He bit back his moans, narrowing his eyes down at your. Your eyes were clenched shut avoiding his gaze. His fingers threaded into your hair, tugging you off his cock.
"Get on the bed." He ordered, an ache in his voice. You gasped for air, voice raspy from the abuse. You nodded, climbing your way onto the bed. His hands pinned you onto the mattress, tugging at the straps of your dress. "Take off this fucking dress."
His demand made your thighs clench, an ache between your legs you needed him to cure. You helped pull down the straps, his large hands tugging the dress off your body. Your breasts spilled from the dress, bouncing as he freed them.
Coriolanus' breath hitches, his eyes glued to the sight of your bare body. His fingers run lightly over your nipples before cupping one in his palm. He leans down to capture your nipple between his teeth. His free slowly sliding you panties down your legs revealing your slick cunt.
"This all for me?" He teases, looking up at you from your breasts. His fingers sliding through your wet folds. You nodded, chest rising and falling in desperation and anticipation.
"Yes-- yes, all yours." You nodded eagerly, silently begging for him to touch you where you needed it. He leaned down, pressing wet kissed into your collarbone, teeth graving the pendent that hung from your neck. His thumb sliding to your clit, gasping slightly at the sensation.
He looked up at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. His thumb rubbing your clit in frustratingly slow circles. "Look at you, wet enough for me to take you now."
"Please--"
He cut you off immediately, "No, I'm taking my time with you."
You gasp as his middle finger slipped in. A soft moan leaving your lips as he slowly slid his finger out and back in. You rolled your hips, begging for more. His fingers curling to brush your g-spot.
"Oh god--" Coriolanus cuts you off with a searing kiss, hungry and passionate. Kissing you with his whole body, tongue sliding against yours.
He slipped another finger inside your drooling entrance, his palm rubbing against his clit. The sound of your lips colliding and fingers invading your slick filling the room. He kissed along your jaw, down your neck. His lips dragging down your body, slowly dragging closer to where you needed him most.
Your eyes widen, watching him crawl between yours legs. His tongue replacing his fingers. "Coriolanus--"
He moaned into your gushing cunt, sliding his cunt along your drooling entrance. His lips wrapped around your clit, teeth crazing it. He pulled your thighs apart were his strong arms as you writhed under his body.
"Ohh-- Coryo." His mouth sucking and exploring your slick folds as you whined out for him. Your body writhing under his firm grip. Tongue exploring your wet cunt. "I'm gonna cum-- please."
He pulled from in between your thighs, his fingers pushing back inside you again. Your slick covered his mouth, reflecting in the light. "Cum for me."
His fingers curl inside you, thrusting back inside you with force. Your voice cracks as you moan his name, hips struggling against his grip as you reach your peak. Your cum coating his long thick fingers. His fingers pull you through your orgasm, your voice begging him to wait.
Coriolanus' mouth is relentless, his tongue flicking and lapping at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust in and out of you. You gasp, your body trembling with the force of the pleasure building within you again.
Your fingers thread in his hair, attempting to pull him off of your aching cunt. His mouth closes over your sensitive nub once more as his fingers begin to move faster inside of you. His hand gripping your thigh as he takes what he wants.
His fingers curl into a 'C' shape, begging you to cum around them just once more time. You writhe under him in overstimulation, hips trying to drag themselves away from him.
You cry out as your juices coat his fingers once again, tears streaming down your cheeks in overstimulation but Coriolanus didn't care.
"N-need your cock..." You breathe out as he pulls himself from between your thighs. You push his hair out of his face, your slick coating the bottom half of his face. His lips were swollen and wet, breathing heavy as he crawled back up your body.
His cock presses against your entrance as Coriolanus leans back down to brush his lips against yours. His lips interlocking with yours, juices smearing against your lips. His tongue intrudes your mouth, your taste invading your mouth. You moan into the kiss, nails digging into his shoulders.
“I want you.”
“You have me.” Coriolanus mumbled against your lips, teeth grazing your jaw line. He pulled your thighs around his waist, cock pressing against your entrance. “You gonna take me?”
You nodded, eagerly.
He pressed his lips against yours to swallow any of your moans as his tip stretched past your entrance. Your nails clawing at his skin, trying your hardest to adjust to the stretch.
Inch by inch, his power took over you. He possessed your body and soul. His cock breached the sacred part of you that only he had access to.
Your nails left crescent shaped indents into his soft pale skin, earning a groan from in return. The stretch burned, no matter how aggressively he had taken you before, the stretch was always there.
“Coriolanus—“ You gasp as he bottoms out, trying to move your hips for friction.
“You can say it, it’s just us.” He mumbles into your flushed skin, his hands digging into your hips. His breathing was heavy and sharp, begging for you to ask him to move.
You were quick to correct yourself, “Coryo.”
You felt a weird sense of care, him nuzzling into your neck, patiently waiting. Coriolanus was an aggressive, impatient, frustrated man. He pulled away from your neck, he pinned you with his gaze. Looking down at you with vulnerability and need.
You whisper, barely loud enough. “Coryo, move please.”
You felt him pull out slightly, pushing back in, a moan escaping your lips. He felt himself falter, a gentleness slipping through. In response he thrusted back in harder, punishing.
His hands pushing your knees to your chest, bending you in half. Your eyes rolled back at the new position, his cock reaching deeper inside of you. You looked down to watch as his cock slid in and out of you, slamming back in with force.
“Too—“ You moan, unable to get your words out. You close your eyes, hearing a laugh above you.
“Too much?” He questioned, you nod in response. In return he speeds up his thrusts, bullying your insides. “Better?”
You gasp, moaning out incoherent sentences. Your nails scratch deep red marks into his snow white skin. Decorating his usual pure appearance.
His voice demanding as he seizes your chin, tilting you to look into his eyes. “Look at me.”
Your jaw falls open, silent moans all that comes out. The loud slapping of skin filling the opulent room. Your body engulfed in his plush bedding.
“Look away and I stop.”
Your eyes widen, wrapping your legs around his torso. Pleas leaving your kiss-swollen lips.
“D-don’t— Coryo, don’t stop.” You beg, your cunt practically sucking him back in. You scratch at his skin, pulling him closer to you. The wire inside you slowly pulling tighter.
“Then look me in the eyes while I fuck you.” He orders, his cock bullying your inside. You nod, mouth open to let out your needy moans.
His hand wrapped around throat, slightly adding enough pressure to make your cunt squeeze around him. A groan leaving his lips as you arch your back, cunt squeezing him tight.
“You like that?” He whispers, pressing harder against your throat. The way his long fingers squeezed around your neck, your mouth opening to let out a sultry moan. “Such a slut you’d let me choke you.”
”For you,” You squeaked out, a moan following just after. He panted, holding back his own moans not willing to submit. His hand slowly releasing you, in return you gasp for air. He pushes your legs further into your chest, finger tips bruising your skin.
He disobeyed his own demand, closing his eyes breaking your eye contact. His thrusts were unfaltering, balls slapping against your ass.
A low moan escaping his parted lips, squeezing your legs trying to hold back his own pleasure. He lets go, hand travelling down to your clit. His thumb rubbed your sensitive nub causing you to cry out his name.
His other hand pushed down on the bulge that protruded from your stomach. You gasp in return, a throaty moan following just after it. You cry out as you cum around his relentless cock unannounced, something you were sure he’d punish you for later.
He squinted, stilling rubbing your clit as he continuously fucked you through your orgasm. Your body writhed under his as your sensitivity increased.
“You want my cum?” He asked, fucking into you deeper than before. You opened your mouth but no words came out, only your moans. “What? Have I fucked you silent?”
You nodded, taking his cock further. Your back arched off the bed, sweaty chest pressing into his. His hands travelled up to your nipples, pinching them in between his fingers.
“Look at you, all cock drunk practically begging for more.” He taunts, ignoring his own impending orgasm. He wanted you claimed, full of his seed.
Your cunt clenched around him, relishing in the deep moan he let out in response. An unexpected whimper following at he tried to hide with a groan.
His hot breath fanned against your neck, hiding his face as the wire inside of him snapped. His seed filling your needy cunt. He panted into your neck, still grinding his cock against you.
“Coryo—“ Your voice was raspy, he hummed against your skin. His hands rubbed your sweat coated skin, soothing you from your overwhelming sensitivity.
“Yes?”
“Do you love me?”
"Why do you think I stay away from you, ignore you?" Coriolanus questioned, his words carrying a weight of contemplation.
Your response carried a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, "I don't know, Coriolanus. You keep me at arm's length, and I can't decipher whether it's indifference, strategy, or something else entirely."
You were still short of breath, legs wrapped around his torso keeping him skin to skin with yours.
Coriolanus, breaking the tense silence, confessed, "I'm obsessed with you."
#Spotify#coryo#coryo x reader#coryolanus snow#coriolanus snow#coryo snow#the hunger games#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus smut#coryo smut#coryo x you#billy the kid smut#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid imagine#billy the kid#william h bonney x you#william h bonney smut#william h bonney x reader
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complicated (part 1)
chris sturniolo x reader
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: making out, mentions of sex, suggestive, angst, cursing
a/n: this one is longggg so i broke it up into 3 parts. i already wrote parts 2 and 3 so they’ll be up soonnn :)
matt, chris, and i were all chilling together in their living room.
nick had gone to his room to start editing a little while ago.
matt and i were seated next to each other on the couch, chris sitting on the loveseat.
my relationship with the two of them was complicated.
matt was my best friend, he knew me like the back of his hand. with one look at me he could tell what i was feeling.
we spent so much time together, we were often with each other longer than we were apart .
we were so close that we blurred the lines between friends and something more every now and then. but it never went further than lingering touches and almost kisses.
i’m not sure why, but late nights staying up talking have often led to our lips being mere centimeters apart lately.
i chalked it up to sleep deprivation and getting caught up in the heat of the moment.
chris, however, was different. i wasn’t as close to him as i was matt, but the few times where it was just us hanging out, i always had fun.
there was this unspoken tension between chris and i. we never said anything about it, but we were both well aware it was there.
he made flirty comments toward me whenever matt wasn’t in the room, finding joy in my flustered state that resulted from it.
i never let anything happen though, out of respect for matt being my best friend.
it seemed like chris made it his mission to get me to break, constantly testing my self-control.
the three of us had just finished watching a movie, watching as the credits began to roll.
immediately, matt stood up, patting my knee as he did so.
“alright, i’m gonna get food. you guys coming?” he asked.
chris stood up as soon as matt asked the question.
“no, i’m good” i answered, not feeling like getting up.
chris glanced at me for a second before answering, “actually, i’m not really hungry”
matt narrowed his eyes in confusion before shrugging and beginning to leave.
“alright, i’ll be back in a little” he said before leaving.
chris walked over to me, replacing matt’s spot as he sat down next to me.
“wanna listen to some music?” he asked as he grabbed the tv remote.
“sure” i answered, watching as his long fingers worked the remote.
“why didn’t you go?” i asked, watching him from the corner of my eye.
i watched as he clicked shuffle on a playlist, before the room was filled with the melody of a song.
wet the bed - chris brown
“chris, you’re not fucking serious right now” i deadpanned as the suggestive lyrics played out.
“i didn’t pick the song” he held his hands up in defense. “i just picked a chris brown playlist, i know you like his music” he said.
i just wanna take your legs and wrap 'em round
girl, you cummin' right now
my head to your chest feelin’ your heartbeat, girl
“how do you know that?” i asked, confused.
“you’re always listening to his music, so i assumed you liked it. i mean, unless you just listen to music you hate for fun”
“i didn’t realize you were paying attention” i said.
“of course i am. you make it hard to focus on anything else”
i don't want to be a minute man
baby, you're just like a storm rainin' on me
girl, your soakin' wet
i turned my body towards his as he caught my attention.
“what do you mean? do you find me distracting?” i asked, leaning forward slightly.
“you know i do” he said as his eyes traveled down to my lips.
i’ma kiss you right (yeah, yeah)
i'm gon' lick all night (yeah, yeah)
girl, when i'm inside (yeah, yeah)
“why’d you stay?” i whispered as i stopped myself from pushing my lips to his. “you know damn well you wanted to go”
“i did, but i wanted to stay with you more” he said.
“why?” i asked as he rested his forehead against mine. he placed his hand on my thigh, lightly gripping the side of it.
“because i want you” he breathed out, hooking my leg over his waist to straddle him.
yeah, girl, you heard what I said
i'm gonna make you wet the bed
i looked down at him, steadying myself by grabbing his shoulders.
“we really shouldn’t chris” i spoke as my lips brushed against hit.
“definitely not” he spoke against my lips, his eyes closed.
“it’s wrong” i whispered.
“but one kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asked, his hands running up and down my waist.
“chris” i sighed.
“please, i need it so bad” his hands now traveled down to my ass.
“just one-” his lips were on mine the second i spoke the words.
i'ma put your legs behind your head
when I make you wet the bed
my hands found their way to his hair as his lips moved greedily against mine.
one of his hands found my jaw, holding it steady as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head.
after a while, we pulled away for air. “one more” he spoke before attaching his lips back to mine, barely giving me time to breathe.
one more turned into two more, two turned into three, and before i knew it i was lost in the way his lips pressed against mine.
his hands traveled to my ass, squeezing it, eliciting a moan from me.
when i let out a gasp in surprise, he slid his tongue past my lips.
“what the fuck ?” came a voice from behind us.
i pulled my lips away from chris, moving off of his lap.
“matt-” i began before he cut me off. “what? what excuse could you possibly give me right now?” he asked.
“look, i’m sorry that i hurt you, but i’m an adult. i don’t really need to give an excuse for anything i do” i spoke defensively.
“whatever” he scoffed as he shook his head, “ i brought you food for later, i knew you’d probably get hungry anyway. but i guess i’m the only one here who thinks about other people” he spoke in a low voice before walking away.
my face dropped at that, starting to feel bad about not considering his feelings at all.
“hey, if you wanna blame someone, blame me. i’m the one who kept pushing you, so please don’t blame yourself” chris spoke, practically seeing the gears turning in my head.
“yeah” i whispered in response, still feeling incredibly guilty.
“hold on, i’ll be back. i’m gonna go talk to him” he spoke, squeezing my hand before going off to matt’s room.
after sitting there in anticipation for a few minutes, i began to get nervous. not knowing what was going on was killing me.
my body moved quicker than my brain as i got up and made my way towards matt’s room. i pressed my ear to the door, listening to what they were saying.
“you know how i feel about her” matt’s muffled voice traveled through the door.
“you barely even hang out with her, you just want her because you know you shouldn’t” matt continued.
“you like the thrill of having to sneak around, and chasing after someone you can’t have. you never once showed any interest in her before i did, now suddenly you just have to have her?” matt asked.
“it’s not like that, matt. i don’t hang out with her often because whenever i do, you accuse me of stealing her away from you” chris started, but was cut off by matt.
“that’s not true, and you know it. you can’t just warp the truth to support the sorry excuses you come up with. just admit it, you don’t actually want her” matt said.
“that’s the thing, matt, i do want her. i just didn’t wanna make it obvious, since you obviously can’t handle that”
“what i can’t handle is the way you think you’re entitled to do whatever the hell you want. did you ever stop to think about what this would do to my friendship with her? or my relationship with you? do you ever think about anything other than yourself?” matt asked.
it didn’t seem like their conversation was going anywhere. the second they started to get somewhere, someone would throw an insult at the other.
deciding to intervene, i knocked on the door loudly. the arguing stopped immediately and the door opened a few seconds later.
i was met with an angry matt, but his face softened as soon as he saw me.
knowing i wanted to be let in, he moved to the side to let me pass. he closed the door behind me, watching as i went to sit on his bed.
“look, i’m sorry guys. i shouldn’t have kissed chris, it was a mistake. the last thing i ever want to do is break the bond that you guys have. let’s just forget this ever happened” i said to them.
“no” chris started, taking me by surprise. “i want you to pick”
“what?” i asked, my face dropping at this.
“chose who you want to be with. it doesn’t make sense for us to fight over you, it’s your decision. whoever you decide to stay friends with won’t take it personal, right matt?” chris asked.
“yeah, we’re not gonna force you into anything you don’t want. if the feelings aren’t there, then they aren’t there” matt agreed.
two minutes ago they were arguing uncontrollably and now they were able to come to an agreement in seconds? this was weird.
“so, who do you want?” chris asked.
who do i want? i had no clue.
i loved spending time with chris, but what if matt was right? what if i only enjoyed the thrill of having someone i can’t have ? was that worth jeopardizing my friendship with either of them over?
and matt? i had such a deep connection with him, i didn’t want to lose him. if i fucked up our friendship, i’d never forgive myself for it. the last thing i ever wanted to do was hurt him, yet that was exactly what i was doing in the moment.
“i don’t know, i don’t even think i can pick” i spoke honestly.
“then why not give us both a shot?” chris asked.
“wait, what ?” i asked, confused.
“well, you wanna see if this is more than just tension, right ? and you wanna know if you have feelings for matt?” he asked.
“i mean, yeah” i answered.
“well, there’s a way to answer both of those questions” he spoke as he pointed to the bed.
my eyes widened at the implication , “sex?”
“if it’ll help you decide who you want, then why not?” chris asked.
“that’s not really the first approach i would’ve taken, but he’s not wrong” matt hesitantly agreed.
“obviously sex isn’t the only factor that goes into a relationship, but you already know all of the other factors. you know how we treat you outside of the bed, so maybe the key to your decision is what happens in it” matt spoke.
“i mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine but-” chris started. “i’m in” i cut him off.
“so, who’s first?” i asked playfully.
“me” chris spoke eagerly, “i mean, we should finish what we started earlier, right?” he tried to cover up his excitement.
“alright, get out of my room” matt started, ushering us out. “and please don’t be loud, i don’t wanna hear that shit”
🌀🌀🌀🌀
next part
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07
#christopher sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo fic#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fic#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#matt#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic
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Morning Routine [nsfw]
(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)
a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!
summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you.
warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise
music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing>
word count:: 1.9k
6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads.
He doesn’t even need an alarm now.
Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper.
Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still.
In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them.
6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient.
I should stop.
There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you.
There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him.
Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief.
Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly.
He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all.
Until he met you.
In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you.
He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate.
More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning.
Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today.
No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.
Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin.
Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body.
When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago.
You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down.
He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always.
It’s always exactly what he needs.
God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good.
Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.
He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off.
He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer.
Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results.
The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off.
“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.
“Bad sleep? Rough morning?”
Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately.
“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”
With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning.
You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms...
He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you!
You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.
Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy.
Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.
He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway.
There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.
This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.
Unfortunately, he was also scared.
He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university.
Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right.
But he only wanted you.
Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish.
Fine then.
He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month.
Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause.
In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you.
Obviously none were taken by him!
Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries.
This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum.
None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities.
Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done.
He wants to finish with you so bad.
He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–
but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters.
It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price.
You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.
He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.
That’s enough.
He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!”
Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs.
“Fuck!”
He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop.
Thank God we came together.
Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going.
He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.
6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.
Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.
Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you.
Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours.
Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know.
The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…
Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him.
And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent.
Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you.
As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.
“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?
As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon.
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a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu#wakatoshi x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#haikyuu wakatoshi#hq wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#ushijima smut#haikyuu ushijima#haikyuu fic#haikyuu x you#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu x reader
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from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao
“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”
hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.
(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)
TW: throwing up
Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.
He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.
“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.
And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—
Meow!
Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”
The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.
“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.
Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.
Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.
Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.
Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.
Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)
And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.
He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.
"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”
Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"
Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.
“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"
Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair.
“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.
She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.
Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer.
Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.
He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.
Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.
"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”
Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter.
She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.
"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe.
"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.
“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.
He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.
As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.
Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?”
Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.
"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.
“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”
“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”
“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.
Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on.
“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”
Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore.
“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”
Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”
“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”
Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”
“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.
The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”
He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.
The poor thing lived a very hard life.
“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.
“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”
Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.
Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”
“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”
Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.
“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”
Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.
He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.
“You’re early.”
Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”
“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”
“M’always nice.”
Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.
Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck.
Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning.
There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything.
“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse
“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.
“But how much?”
“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Debatable.”
Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.
“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.
Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.
(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList)
Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369
#Like I had so so so much fun writing this#Poor Steve#I’m so serious though please let me ramble about this universe ask me questions I’m begging you#Let me procrastinate my history homework with my silly little guys#Please#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie fic#steve x eddie#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#max mayfield#jeff stranger things#gareth stranger things#teacher!steve harrington#Writer! Eddie Munson#Finn writes#My writing#my fic
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So sorry if I already requested this, I don’t remember lol. But virgin!reader x Rafe where she wants to do it but she’s scared and he talks her through it please 🫶🏽
thank u for requesting bby! hope u like it!
i kinda got carried away but really wanted to try writing smut for the first time!! please be kind lol, i appreciate constructive criticism!
also just wrote this at two am so sorry if there's any spelling errors hehe
⋆｡˚🏹˚｡⋆
are you sure? the boy asked for the hundredth time.
it's not like he didn't want to. believe me, he did.
ever since he saw you coming out of the country club pool a couple years ago, the droplets of water adorning your perfect body, it was all he could think about when you were near.
he'd always been after you, and every other girl that threw herself at him was meaningless.
at every house party, every bonfire, every dinner your parents hosted and his family attended, his attention was always directed at you.
and he was a gentleman, of course. your parents loved him, after all, he was the kook prince, the pride of the island.
he never took the first step because he was scared to drive you away, to lose you.
you never expected your first time to be with him.
but here you were, sitting on his bed, hands shaking a little and letting him see right through the ballsy attitude you wanted to show.
yes rafe, i'm sure but your eyes said otherwise.
listen, we don't have to do this, we can watch some tv, or i can even drive you to the mall! the boy insisted.
it's not like you two were dating, just good friends. you had come to him hours prior, with a clear request on your mind: you had selected him to take your virginity.
needless to say he was shocked at the petition, but didn't hesitate and agreed as soon as you finished the sentence.
he'd been waiting for this for a long time, but he wanted it to be right.
it's ok, i can handle it, it's just, first time jitters, ya'know?
but rafe wasn't so convinced.
and as soon as he oppened his mouth to try to change your mind again, you kissed him.
it took him by surprise but was quick to soften into it, as he cupped your face with both hands, deepening the kiss.
everybody told you he was a great kisser, and you never thought much of it untill now.
the timid kiss you initiated escalated into a heated make out session in no time, his hands exploring every inch of your body, lifting your white sundress and getting to the waistband of your pink panties.
you almost automatically pushed his hand away, and broke the kiss to look at him through your eyelashes.
may i? i'll make you feel good, i promise
you slowly nodded, taking your hand away and placing it on top of his shoulder, instead.
moving the delicate clothing out of the way, he slided his finger through your already glistening folds, collecting some moisture and tracing soft and slow circles on your clit.
oh baby, already so wet for me he groaned.
a heavenly sound left your mouth, and went straight to his dick, that was starting to strain against his pants.
as his pace fastened, your need to feel more of him was growing.
r-rafey, can you maybe put a finger in?
it was almost too much for him to hear those words come out of your perfect, pouty lips. your voice trembling and breathy due to the stimulation he was giving you.
you want me to stretch you out baby? huh? say it.
he softly pinched and flicked your clit, barely allowing you to get some words out. but you knew what he wanted to hear.
yes, please stretch me out for you, please rafe.
he couldn't believe his eyes. he had the hottest girl in all the island under him, a moaning mess, begging him to touch her.
he slid his first rough finger in, gaining a loud moan from you as he did so.
you were so fucking tight, he couldn't wait to fill you up.
he struggled to fit in a second, but was finally able to get you to relax after he placed a few sloppy wet kisses on your neck, slowly lowering to the top of your boobs, that were spilling out of your dress.
his fingers curled inside you, reaching an undiscovered place and making you feel a kind of pleasure you never felt before.
your pussy squeezing him tightly, he could feel you were close, and suddenly pulls out both fingers, your whinings following at this unexpected loss of contact.
m'kay baby, i need to get inside you now.
#anon request#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#obx smut#mine#rafe cameron blurb
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