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amentomensmut · 6 months

Note

I've never asked for a request before and i dont have clout to write it myself so i thought id ask since i like some of your Mike stuff but

What about something like reader and Mike are friends and he goes to a wedding her as a favor cause i like the idea that he has like a messy suit, loose tie kind of hot mess vibe and smutty things happen lol I dont have much in mind but the idea of him in a messy suit trying to look cleaned up is just like ...drool idk

Plus One

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 3.1k+

Summary: You invite Mike to be your plus one at your sister's wedding, but things go wrong during the reception and Mike uses you to take out his frustrations.

Warnings: 18+ CONTENT, okay so like reader and Mike are friends but also its kinda angry sex??? You’ll see. Manhandling (sorta), slight exhibitionism, degrading, praise, dirty talk, finger sucking, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap pookies)

Note: oh my GOD this one got away from me and i'm NOT sure about it, I feel like i could’ve written this a bit better but i just started babbling and now we're here. to the person who requested this: THANK YOU. i loved ur idea and him in a suit like makes me drool too omg. i also couldn’t help adding a little angst in here. also so nevry to post this?? so lmk what u guys think! enjoy :)

“Please, Mike. I swear this is the last thing you’ll ever have to do for me!” You plead, trying to reason with the very unimpressed looking man in front of you. You’ve been stuck in Mike's kitchen for the past half hour trying to convince him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding next Saturday. Clearly, your convincing hasn’t been successful so far.

“The last time I did a favour for you was supposed to be the last time.” Mike says with a knowing smirk, and you roll your eyes. A few weeks ago, you went out to a bar with some friends and you may have had a few too many long island iced teas. The owner had forced your hand into calling someone to pick you up, and it was Mike's number you had dialled that night. As he drove you back to your apartment with an unpleasant look on his face, you swore to him that that would be the last favour you'd ever ask of him. How you wish you could take that back right about now.

“Okay, well, I was drunk when I said that. So it doesn't count.” You say with a frown, crossing your arms against your chest like a child who was denied candy.

You can’t really blame Mike for not wanting to go. Your family is…a lot. You love your family, you really do (most of the time). But, they can be judgemental. You were the kid in school who always got the hottest new toys for Christmas, and had big themed parties for your birthday every year. It had never really dawned on you that you were more well off than other kids until you had met Mike. You became friends with Mike when you were both 15. When you first brought Mike over to your house to hang out, you heard your parents whispering about him that night when you were supposed to be in bed. Your parents gossiped about the kidnapping of his brother, the suicide of his mother, and how Mike and his sister were essentially left to their own devices with their father paralyzed and consumed by grief. It made you sick to hear your parents nitpick and discuss Mike's life like it was a reality tv show. Your parents never really approved of your friendship with Mike, and they tend to not-so-subtly make that known whenever you make the mistake of bringing him up in a conversation.

“I don’t think that’s how that works. Besides, when your sister offered you a plus one, I really don’t think she had me in mind.” Mike says as he reaches into his fridge for a beer. “In fact, I think she’d prefer you to invite that guy who works at the convenience store and catcalls you everytime you go in, instead of me.” He says, cracking open his beer and offering you a smile before he takes a sip.

“Well now you’re just being dramatic.” You huff as you walk over to the couch in Mike's living room and take a seat. Mike follows you from the kitchen and sits down in his armchair, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Mike sticks his tongue out at you and you have to restrain yourself from strangling the man. If it were any other wedding you would’ve just gone on your own. However, your family events tend to…take a turn for the worst. Your family's gatherings usually end with drama, and you know that even though it’s your sister's wedding, this will be no different. That’s why you're insistent on bringing Mike as your plus one, so you can have a little support if things go awry.

“Very mature.” You say with a shake of your head, once again rolling your eyes at the rude gesture.

“Listen, I’ll go. But, on one condition.” Mike says, and you sit up straight at his words.

“What’s the condition?” You ask suspiciously, but at this point you think you’d agree to almost anything.

“You babysit Abby for a month,”

“Deal.”

“And do my laundry for a month.” Mike adds.

“That’s two conditions actually, Mike.” You scoff as you get off the couch to leave.

“So you’re inviting the guy from the convenience store then?” Mike teases, knowing he's your only option.

You turn around to face Mike, squinting your eyes at him. God, you hate that cocky smirk he does when he knows he's winning. Bastard.

“Have a suit by Saturday. I’ll be over at 10am.” You sigh, flipping Mike off as you leave through his front door.

“Very mature.” You hear him mumble on your way out.

—-----------------------------------------

“Mike, it looks like you just came back from a bachelor party. Not like you’re going to a wedding.” You say, noting the way Mike’s tie hangs loosely around his neck and the first couple buttons on his white button up are left undone. Mike runs his hands through his hair and you quickly bat them away, scolding him for ruining the hair you had just attempted to fix in the car only moments before you arrived. You can’t deny that he looks handsome. He surely looks charming with the way his gelled hair falls messily on his forehead, and the way his dads old suit fits him almost perfectly.

“Well, hopefully your sister doesn’t mind.” Mike says sarcastically as he adjusts the cuff links on the ends of his sleeves and steps out of your car and towards the church where your sister is getting married.

The first half of the wedding went pretty smoothly. You and your sister have never really been close, so It wasn’t a surprise to you when she didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid. You and Mike sat a few rows down, occasionally playing footsies under the pew when you’d accidentally bump feet. A kiss was shared between the bride and groom, and everyone left to go to the reception.

You were nervous about the reception, to be quite honest. Mike could tell, and he put his hand on your lower back, resting it there as you both walked into the banquet hall. You nearly faint when you see the sheer amount of people that fill the room. There have to be about 200 people minimum. It seemed like way less in the church, you think.

“I need a drink.” You mumble to Mike, dragging him over to the bar.

Both you and Mike order a drink, and you want to be swallowed by the ground when you hear your mothers shrill, sing-songy voice behind you.

“Darling! I didn’t see you during the ceremony, I thought you hadn’t come.” You turn around and she pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks. She pulls away from you and you notice her eyes immediately land on Mike. “Oh, and what a surprise. Mike, how are you and your sister?” Your mother continues, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

You watch as Mike plasters a big, albeit fake, smile on his face and shakes your mothers hand.

“Abby and I are doing well, thank you for asking.” Mike says, and you almost laugh at his cordial tone. Mike sends you a ‘help me’ look and you mouth a ‘sorry’ to him.

“Gosh, it just devastated me to hear about your fathers passing.” Your mother says, clutching her chest like she's in pain, and you think she deserves an Oscar for the way she acts like she gives a shit. “I’m sure it must be so hard for you to provide for your sister alone.” Your mother adds and you watch the smile slowly slide off of Mike’s face.

“Why do you say that?” He asks, and you suddenly regret ever asking Mike to be your plus one.

“Mom-,” You start to say, but she disregards your voice, raising her hand as you speak to stop you.

“Well, I know you struggle keeping a job. You know, not everyone is cut out to raise a child.” If you could see yourself, you’re sure all the colour would be drained from your face. You’re left speechless, mouth half hung open at your mothers words. How could she say that? She doesn’t know him like you do. She doesn’t know how much Mike sacrifices to provide for Abby.

You look over at Mike and his jaw is tightly clenched. You brace yourself for Mike's next words, but they don’t come. Instead, you watch as he excuses himself and walks towards the mens bathroom.

“Well, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Your mother jokes once Mike is out of earshot.

“Jesus Christ, mom.” You say incredulously as you turn to go find Mike.

You walk towards the bathrooms, entering the men’s restroom with only one thing on your mind. Mike. Luckily the restroom is empty, save for Mike who is leaning over the counter. You slowly reach behind yourself, locking the bathroom door. You begin to step towards Mike, but you stop when you hear his voice.

“Do you think I'm not fit to raise Abby?” Mike asks you angrily, not even turning to look at you. You just stand there like an idiot, reaching down to fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“I-, no. Of course not.” You say, and the music that was loud in the hall, is now only a low hum in the bathroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and you’re not really sure what to say, or how to make things better. You resume taking slow, tentative steps towards Mike and you stop once you’re behind him. You place an uncertain hand on his back, softly rubbing it up and down to comfort him. He lets you touch him and you hear him let out a breath. He turns around to face you and you look up to meet his eyes. He studies your face for a moment, and you inch even closer to him.

“I’m sorry about my mom. That was inexcusable.” You sigh. If you were in Mike’s shoes, you probably would’ve left the reception entirely, and you’re not entirely opposed to that idea right now.

“Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.” Mike finally says, and there’s distaste in his tone. You don’t say anything, you know it's true. Your family, especially your mother, has never approved of your friendship with Mike.

“Do you think that?” Mike asks you, and you’re just now realising how close Mike’s face is to your own. You look up at him with furrowed brows and shake your head.

“No, Mike. I don’t think that.” You say quietly, and you swear the tension between Mike and you is so thick, it could be cut with a knife. You look down, but you feel Mike's hand grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look back up at him.

“You can’t even look at me when you say it. Pathetic.” Mike seethed. You let out a hushed whimper at his words..

“Sorry.” You say, but your voice sounds small. “I know you are.” He coos, rubbing his thumb back on fourth on your cheek.

“I need you to do something for me, okay?” Mike says, leaning down to speak in your ear. His voice is sweet and the switch in moods makes your head spin.

“Okay.” You nod and Mike pulls away from your ear to look you in the eyes.

“Be fucking quiet.” He says, and he presses his lips to yours. You softly gasp in shock, but quickly kiss him back as he turns you around to hoist you up onto the counter. He grabs both of your knees, opening them to make space for him to stand between your legs. He grips your thighs harshly, and you sigh when he sucks on your bottom lip. He puts one of his hands under your jaw, using it to hold your head in place as he kisses you. His lips are slightly chapped, but you don’t mind. He kisses you with fever, and you can’t deny that you haven’t thought about this.

He kisses down to your jaw and neck, sucking the skin in a way where you know there will be bruises. Jerk. You run your hands through his hair, throwing your head back at the pleasurable feeling of his lips gliding over your skin. The hand that was on your thigh is now trailing up your leg and under your skirt. You clench your legs around his hand and he softly bites your neck, wordlessly scolding you for your actions. You reopen your legs and his hand comes up to make contact with your clothed clit. He rubs slow circles and you let out a soft whimper.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” He slurs in your ear, and his fingers move from your clit to the waistband on your panties, pulling it back and slapping it against your skin. You nod and he’s pulling you off of the counter and flipping you around. Mike bends you over and your chest meets the cold granite. You look in front of you and you can see Mike behind you in the mirror on the wall. He pushes your knee length skirt up and around your hips, and groans at the sight of you bent over for him.

“You okay?” He asks genuinely, running his hands along the sides of your body in a comforting manor.

“Yeah, keep going.” You breathe out and he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them down. You clench around nothing as the cold air hits your cunt. You moan softly as Mike spreads your pussy open with his thumbs, groaning at how wet you are. Without warning, he inserts his pointer and middle finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds of Mike fingering you fill the bathroom and you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers curl up into your sweet spot.

“Apparently your pussy thinks I’m good enough.” Mike says and you look up into the mirror to see his jaw slack, watching the way his fingers move in and out of you. You can feel Mike's erection brushing against the back of your thigh as he rocks his hips with every thrust of his fingers.

“Mike, fuck me.” You whine, and Mike takes his fingers out of you. He brings them to your lips, pushing them inside your mouth, and you can hear him undoing his belt with his other hand.

“Thought I told you to be fucking quiet.” He murmurs and you watch in the mirror as he shoves his pants and boxers down just enough to pull his hard cock out. He removes his fingers from your lips, using your spit as lube to pump his cock a few times before lining it up with your pussy. He slowly inches himself inside of you, pushing you down onto the counter. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you hear Mike let out a whine at the feeling of being in you.

He starts to pump himself in and out of you, and he pulls you up by your shirt into his chest to make you watch yourself in the mirror. He fucks into you like he can’t get enough of you. Like being inside of you isn’t close enough.

“What would your mother think? Hm? About her sweet little angel getting fucked in the bathroom?” Mike says in your ear, with a sickeningly sweet tone. It's like he just knows how to push your buttons. You let out a low moan at his words.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Mike adds and your legs shake when he uses the hand that was holding you up to rub your clit. You drop back down on the counter and Mike grabs your hip with his free hand, using it as leverage to bottom out in you with every single thrust. He throws his head back in ecstasy and you clench around him, signalling your impending orgasm.

“You wanna cum?” Mike asks, and his voice is raspy and fucked out. You nod your head ‘yes’.

“No, want you to say it.” Mike says, and you can tell he’s close by his sloppy, less rhythmic thrusts.

“Please, Mike. Please, can I cum?” You beg, your voice hoarse. The filthy sounds of skin against skin echo throughout the bathroom, and if someone has tried to enter the bathroom since you’ve been in here, you’ve been too fucked out to hear it. Thank god I locked the door, you think.

“Cum, baby, Fuck.” Mike chokes out. Your legs shake as you cum around his cock, your orgasm only heightened by the feeling of him filling you up. You bite down on your hand to muffle yourself and you swear to god you hear Mike whimper, pussy drunk as he continues to ride his high thrusting in and out of your sloppy pussy.

After catching his breath, you feel Mike pull out of you and you wince at the feeling of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. You slowly tilt your head up as you watch Mike get some toilet paper to clean himself up. He tucks himself back inside his boxers and pulls his pants up. You flinch a little as you feel him come up behind you, cleaning you up with more toilet paper.

“Sorry, was I too rough?” He asks softly, looking at you through the mirror and you shake your head.

“No, just sensitive.” You say as Mike finishes cleaning you. You pull your panties back up, letting your skirt fall back over your legs. Your knees buckle a little bit as you try to stand straight and Mike rushes over to you, lending you a hand.

“You know, I actually think you’re one of the only people who genuinely thinks I am good enough.” Mike says, and you look up at him.

“Of course I do. I always have.” You say softly, gently touching Mike’s cheek.

#smut #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson smut #fnaf #fnafmovie #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

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mariclerc · 2 months

Text

Predestined | cl16

Summary: Where you have had mixed feelings for years with your brother's best friend... And finally those feelings see the light.

Warning: none, just fluff.

a/n: let me know if u want a part 2 of this!!

Part 2

You were always surrounded by go-karts, the smell of gasoline and mud, like a good little sister, you accompanied your older brother to his karting races with his best friend. Basically your childhood and part of your teenage years were spent in that, in being the number one fan of those two boys... Your big brother and the boy who always stole your breath.

Currently, you are lost in thought when you are interrupted by a knock on the front door.

“I'm coming!” You say out loud as you leave the living room towards the door, opening it you find your brother's best friend, Charles, or better known as the boy who makes you sigh, in your eyes he always looks so cute. “Oh, hi char! Ehm... Luca is not home... But come in!” you say a little enthusiastically.

He smiled as he walked into the house. “But it's nice to see you little butterfly!” He said as he approached to give you a small kiss on the forehead, something they have done since you were little.

You always found him cute and adorable, even when he and your brother came home covered in mud and angry for losing a race, or when your mother scolded them for breaking a vase while you secretly passed him some chocolate cookies. They are 22 and you are 21 years old, but despite everything, they both always protected you back in the day, not now since you are older, but the affection is the same, especially between you and Charles. Since he always gave you cute nicknames and treated you like a princess, something that didn't bother you when you were little, but now those feelings have changed a little.

“What brings you here Charlie?” you ask timidly.

“Nothing in particular really, just... I wanted to spend time with you, it's been a long time since we've caught up.” He smiled and you felt your cheeks blush a little.

You both went to the couch and decide to watch a rom-com, the laughter and the knowing and slightly flirtatious glances did not take long to wait. You looked like some teenagers with their first love, something you were not lucky enough to have.

“God, how beautiful... How I would have liked to experience something like that.” You say in a murmur, referring to the couple in the movie, he, curious, turns his face towards you to look at your face.

“What do you mean, pretty?” He ask gently.

You take a deep breath. “Well... I've never had a boyfriend.” you pause briefly. “And I know you'll laugh and say it's not true and blah blah blah but...” You say but he shuts you up by grabbing your face gently.

“Who said I'm going to laugh at you? But I find it curious that a girl as pretty as you has never had a boyfriend... Not even something casual?” He asks gently, you denied. “How sad honey, maybe you were looking in the wrong places.”

“It's not just that, it's that... I don't know, no one showed interest in me before and my shyness doesn't help much to be honest.” You sigh.

Right now you are a whirlwind of feelings towards him that are quite strong and strange, but somehow it felt good.

“Maybe there is someone interested in you... For a long time if I'm honest.” He says in a whisper.

You look at him. “Who is it Charles?”

“If I told you that I am that person, would you still see me the same way?” He asks you subtly and you blush.

The times you imagined confessing your feelings towards him were countless, but it never crossed your mind that he would be the one confessing his feelings to you... Maybe it's not the most romantic way of all, but at least it's something.

“Tell me this isn't a joke Charlie.”

He laughed a little. “How could this be a joke, honey? You always caught my attention, you seemed like the cutest pretty girl in the whole city, even when you had your little pigtails and you followed your brother and I through the garden on summer days.” He whispered again. “You were always that impossible crush for me... Maybe now it's not so impossible after all.”

You blushed a lot. “Oh god, Charles... I liked you too, for a long time... But I never knew how to let you know...” You say in a whisper.

His smile widened and with one of his hands he caressed your cheeks in an adorable way that made your heart race. “Oh my shy little princess... Could I give you a kiss?” he asked and you nod slowly.

He shortened the distance between you to join your lips, it was a mix between a soft, shy and slow kiss but with it has a lot of meaning. You always imagined what it would be like to kiss him, if his lips felt warm on yours, and none of that is out of reality because it feels just like you imagined it repeatedly for a long time. In a moment he instinctively places you on his lap, everything feels so new and comfortable at the same time it's like it was meant to be. He fell for you even more when he felt you smile halfway through the kiss, something that drove him crazy in a good way.

All your parents' jokes saying that you were going to end up married to Charles and to which both of you always made disgusted faces finally made sense.

You separate from the kiss breathlessly, with a giddy smile on your face. “Oh my... That was incredible Charles.” You say in a whisper.

“It was better than I had imagined in my dreams.”

You both let out a small giggle and you caressed his face, the untidy trail of beard was present on it, his pink and fleshy lips parted and swollen, his greenish eyes who always looked at you as if you were a goddess and now they do it even more. All those "little" details are what made you fall in love with him and you wouldn't change a single thing about it.

Obviously you were inside your little bubble that you didn't hear the door opened.

“Well, well, well... What do we have here?” You hear your brother's mocking voice and the two of you separate and hurriedly get up from the couch.

You were blushing with shame. “Luca... I... Um... I...” No coherent sentence was coming out of your mouth since you were babbling, you hid behind Charles.

“I suppose you have a better explanation than my sister's, don't you Leclerc?” He asked ironically.

He breathed. “Yes, in fact yes... I don't know if it is or was something noticeable for you for years but I like y/n and, surprisingly, she likes me too.” he sigh. “And well, we decided to take that leap of faith, isn't it petit coeur?” He says and you nod sheepishly behind him. (little heart).

A knowing look and a sly smile landed on Luca's face. “It's amazing how clueless you guys are! I mean, it was very obvious that you both liked each other, you just needed to know it yourselves too.” He said and giggled, you exhaled calmly.

“So you're not angry? I thought you would be!” you asked softly.

He denied as he looked at both of you. “Not at all! Actually, I am very happy for you!” He approached you two. “I'll just tell you something... You hurt my little sister and I swear I will never speak to you again in my life, is that clear Charles?” He said addressing Charles and the aforementioned nodded.

“I would never hurt her... She is important to both you and me, there is no joke in doing that.” He said firmly.

Luca smiled. “Well lovebirds, I better give you guys some privacy.” he said and hugged both of you. “I don't want nephews yet, okay?” He said as he winked and walked up the stairs.

You blushed and Charles was also the same as you, you were smiling and giddy. “Well, I didn't imagine this would be the way he would know about all this.”

He caressed your face gently. “I didn't imagine it either, but I couldn't prefer it any other way.” he whispered close to your lips.

He shortened the distance between his lips again to kiss you a little more deeply, it was something you had longed for for a long time, and that now it was easy for you to access anytime you both needed. It felt so good the way he held you in his arms, how your bodies fit together, it was something predestined to happen, and that idea didn't bother you at all.

“Oh mia principessa... Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asked shyly while blushing. “I wouldn't want to be kissing you with your brother around... It scares me babe.”

You nod as you let out a small giggle. “Yep! Of course I would like a date with you Charlie! Although we can always get our way.” you whisper and laugh, giving a little hint that you two could spend time in your room.

“I like how you think cutie pie.” he gives you a little kiss on the tip of your nose and you giggle. “How about I pick you up tomorrow at 6pm or 7pm? We can go for an ice cream, from the ice cream parlor with the pastel colors wall that you like so much... Or maybe go to eat at the Italian restaurant and then go for an ice cream? How you prefer honey, you decide.”

Seeing him so nervous and shy about taking you on a date was something incredible to see, you never thought that he would be the type of guy who gets nervous about taking a girl on a date... Maybe because you are also nervous, you have never had a date and having it with him was more than perfect.

You shushed him as you gave him a small kiss on the lips. “Whatever it is, it's fine! Being with you is enough, you know?” You whispered and you both smiled.

“Then it's okay darling! Oh god, I feel like I'm in a dream... A very cute and adorable one.”

You feel your cheeks blush, you have never felt so many emotions together just for a boy, just for him, but fortunately he was now your boy and that made you happy and content. You stayed for a while hugging in silence, enjoying the warmth that your bodies provided you. Who would have thought that you would actually end up with the boy of your dreams, the one who arrived with an angry face for not finishing a race, but who somehow smiled when he saw you.

After a while you separated from the hug and you walked him to the door.

“So... Tomorrow at 6?” You ask him softly.

He nods. “Yes darling! Oh god... I can't believe I can kiss you now!” He says excitedly and you laugh softly.

“It's better than a podium?” You giggle.

“Oh hell yes! It's much better than a win chérie.” He leans in again to kiss you while holding your face gently.

After saying goodbye for like the eighteenth time, you went up to your room to scream into your pillow like a teenager with her first boyfriend, and somehow you felt that way. You heard a knock on the door of your room and you opened it to find your brother on the other side.

“Tell me something, do I have to punch his face?” He question with a sly face and you denied.

“Not at all, plus I don't think you want to break your best friend's face.”

He shakes his head. “I'm really so happy for you bubbles, you have no idea how happy I am for you two!” He said and hugged you. “And tell me... Has he already invited you on a date?” He asked with a sly smile on his face.

You blushed instantly. “Luca! Yes and I won't give you details until tomorrow when I'm back.”

He smiled while he ruffled your hair. “It seems fair to me.”

***

You didn't stop walking around the room while the clock almost struck 6pm, you had dressed pretty nice for the occasion and you really didn't know if it was too much since you've never been on a date before. You feel butterflies fluttering inside you and it is a pleasant and strange sensation at the same time.

“I'm coming!” You say as you go to the door to find a smiling Charles. “Hi bubba!” You say a little shyly as you stand on tiptoe to give him a small kiss on the cheek, an act that makes him blush. “You look handsome baby!”

He looked at you speechless and smiled. “Damn baby, you look absolutely gorgeous!” He said with a smile from ear to ear. “Oh, here these are for you! I know you like sunflowers and as soon as I saw them I remembered how much you love them, so... I hope you like them.” He said as he handed you the small but very pretty bouquet of sunflowers.

Your eyes glazed over a little. “Oh god, you didn't have to do it! But thanks Charlie, I love them!” You say as you give him a hug and then place the sunflowers in a vase.

“Well, are you ready for the best date? Little princess?” he asked softly and you giggled and blush while you nodded.

“I'm very ready charlie bear!” You giggled.

There was a very tender and childlike aura between the two of you, maybe it was the lack of romantic experience you've had or maybe it's the fact that you've been imagining this moment for years with him and that you both knew each other since you were little, whatever, it was a very nice and cute vibe between the two of you.

***

The date was a fever dream, he was everything you had imagined and much more, he was attentive, gentlemanly and he even remembered things that perhaps were silly to you at the time that you said them, but you didn't know he was taking notes of each one of these little things. There were shy and flirtatious glances, little smiles here and there and he even held your hand very delicately and tenderly, as if you were a little porcelain doll.

After dinner in the cozy Italian restaurant you went for an ice cream at the ice cream parlor he mentioned the day before and now you are enjoying a nice ride in his car.

“Do you know what I loved when your brother had sleepovers? When we made a fort in your parents' living room.” He says with a somewhat nostalgic smile on his face.

You smiled. “Oh yes, it was very adorable!”

He nodded. “The most adorable thing was that I told your brother to include you there. Although, now the best thing is that you are the little princess of our own fort.”

You have the faint memory of those sleepover nights where your brother asked you to stay in your room since they stayed in the living room to play boy things, you always wanted to do a sleepover but you never had as many friends as your brother. When your brother were making the fort in the living room, Charles always asked him if he could look for you in your room, since he didn't want you to feel alone. He wanted you to be the little princess of the fort.

“Oh yes, I remember! You were going to look for me secretly from my brother to take me to the fort.” You let out a small giggle at the memory.

“Yes, well... I think it was from there that I started to like you a lot.” He blushed.

You blushed slightly. “Since I was eight years old? Have you liked me since then?” You asked him and he nodded with blushing cheeks.

“Yep, although now it's better! Since I can kiss you every so often.” he giggled. “My cute little princess.”

“Do you know what I thought about you back then? That you were out of my reach... And yes, it's stupid, but you were so cute and kind with me that I couldn't help but think about it.” You say in a whisper as you look at him with adoration in your gaze.

“Oh baby, you were also a cutie, well, you still are! Ma jolie petite poupée.” He says while caressing your face. (my pretty little doll)

He smiled and brought his face closer to yours to kiss your lips gently, your hands were in his hair and you pulled him more closer to you while he placed his hands on your waist and he caressed the area with his fingertips, the kisses became a little messy, but it was quite pleasurable. You broke apart to catch your breath and both of you had little smiles.

“Wow... I can get addicted to your lips, you know?” You say in a whisper.

He smiled tenderly. “Well get ready, because maybe you will have an overdose of kisses every now and then ma belle.” He said as he gave you a kiss on the forehead. (my beautiful)

“Well that's perfect! We just have to... You know, hide from my brother maybe.” You let out a little giggle. “But that doesn't matter now, I just want to be with you.”

After a while you returned to where it all started, at the front door of your house, you both had blushing cheeks, something constant and common next to him.

“Charlie, thank you very much!” you smiled shyly. “Thank you for taking me on a date, it was amazing!” you giggled.

He winks at you and leans down to kiss your forehead. “Was nothing amour, I really liked this date too!” he smiled.

You stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on his cheek, letting out a giggle as his slight stuble tickled you. “That tickles!” you giggled again.

He blushes. “Sorry petit bébé!” he giggled too. (little baby)

Just as you guys are about to kiss each other goodbye (finally), you hear someone clearing their throat, you turn your head to find Luca standing with his arms crossed and a smile on his face.

“Okay, okay, little lovebirds, enough of the corny stuff.” He said while laughing a little, you rolled your eyes.

“Shh, shut up mate, just a couple of minutes with her and she's all yours.” Charles says and your brother laughs and went back into the house. “Well... What were we up to?” He asks and you approach him to shorten the distance and kiss, it was a shy kiss but with a lot of feeling, just like the others.

It's incredible how after so many years of having an impossible crush on him it seems like all the pieces are starting to fit into place and it's something very, very precious. You separated from the kiss and put your foreheads together while smiling like two hopeless lovers.

“I like you so much baby.” He whispers softly.

“I like you so so much baby boy.” You whisper too.

At the end of the day your parents were right with all those jokes, they knew that you and Charles were going to end up together because, after all, you were destined for each other and at some point it was going to happen.

ynusername

liked by lucay/l/n, lilyhme, georgerussell63 and others

ynusername yes, I still stand on my tippytoes to kiss him 🎀🎀

tagged charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc oh god, my little princess i love uuu 🩷🩷🩷

ynusername i love u too little prince 🩵🩵🩵

user1 omg, Isn't that @lucay/l/n sister?

user2 oh god! I've read that she and Charles have been dating since they were children, but I'm not even sure.

user3 uhh, no. You're wrong! She is Luca's sister (Charles' best friend) but they weren't dating before, they had a little crush on each other while growing up

user2 ohhhhhh, got it! thx!!!

pierregasly FINALLYYYYY

yourmom I knew you guys were going to end up together! I love you my little guys <3

liked by ynusername and charles_leclerc

alex_albon finally we won't have to listen to Charles regret never making a move on you.

ynusername but he did 😋😋😋

lucay/l/n I love you guys so much bubbles and little torment

charles_leclerc I thought you had forgotten about my "little torment" era

ynusername oh god, don't fight silly boys

lucay/l/n k, i got it bubbles!!

charles_leclerc I love you I love you I love you I love you my girl 🎀🩷

ynusername i love you too handsome, please come back i miss you 🥺🥺

charles_leclerc I will be at your door in a few minutes don't worry baby girl <3

ynusername okay cutie 🥰

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles x shy reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles x reader

571 notes · View notes

arminsumi · 10 months

Text

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ i still like you

Gojo x gn!reader

Overview; rejecting Gojo in high school, but figuring out your feelings much later when he's become a teacher at Jujutsu High

Content; headcanons, angst with fluff/happy ending

Warnings; rejection talk, heartbroken Gojo 😭angsty romance

Note; call him SADTORU cuz he cryin' over u

REJECTING Gojo Satoru is difficult. The man refuses to believe that you're rejecting him.

"Huh?" is his initial response. Then he laughs. "You're a good joker. Really got me there."

He is convinced for the first few months that it's an ongoing joke. He still brings you flowers as usual. He still flirts with you in the locker rooms. He still kisses your cheek as he giggles and runs off back home, like how he's done since you two were kids.

But he slowly, very slowly, realizes that you don't reciprocate his feelings. That his passion doesn't pierce the veil you have draped over your heart.

For years he still acts as usual, but more toned down. There was a time he would smile at you, then tear up when you left. He made a playlist that ended up being the heartbreak playlist. He rejected anyone who asked him out, except for an odd few who he tried with. But that was just to try and forget you, and the impression you made on him.

Now he's become a teacher, watching over Yuji and the others. A lot of time has passed. His students were told many times about the one who rejected Gojo-sensei and when you were introduced to them, Yuji even said "Oh, the one who rejected Gojo-sensei in high school lol?" ("Yuji!!" 💢Nobara smacked him)

You sat with Gojo in his office that afternoon, drinking tea. He hadn't lifted his cup, clearly something was on his mind (er, and he also didn't like tea. But he knew that you did, so he made it for you.)

"Hey, remember when you rejected me? Well, I know this is gonna sound childish, but I held onto my feelings all these years. I still like you."

You can't believe your ears for a second. He's pushing into his thirties soon, and yet he still possesses the pure and boyish feelings from his high school years.

"It feels like as I got older with you, my crush matured. Kinda like it graduated from being a crush and became..."

He trailed off, the final word on the tip of his tongue. Those bright blue eyes teared up under his silken blindfold.

"Love." he chuckled.

"Satoru..."

"Sorry, I've just been in a reminiscing mood lately. Ignore me."

"Satoru, is it too late to tell you how much I regret rejecting you?"

He stutters. The high and mighty Gojo Satoru, who always had a cocky and self-absorbed edge, stutters.

Jokingly, he lifts his blindfold and looks at you with one eye. "You jokin' with me?" he laughs nervously.

"No, I'm serious." you tell him honestly. "I was on a different plane of existence back then. As the years went by I started wishing that I said I like you back."

His heart races. It races like it used to back in his high school days. When his crush on you first developed.

1K notes · View notes

pasukiyo · 1 year

Note

Hey, ignore if u arent still doing requests but I've had this storyline in my head for ages and I think ur a perfect writer for tom. Basically, the reader is a muggleborn but she attends Hogwarts and it's like half term where they are all home for a break. Shes either avery or lestranges adopted sibling and it's kinda been kept a secret from tom because.. well yknow shes a muggleborn lol(he knows about her now because her adoptive brother had to explain before bringing Tom over) anyways so hes at every or lestranges house for some reason (you make it up) and shes in her room, her adoptive brother needs something so he asks tom to get it from her desk in her room and they preferably have 🌶 time. Sorry if it sounds stupid but I've been thinking about this for ages!!😭

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!reader 8,104 words warnings: smut. sort of angst. also lots of prejudice against muggle-borns. read part two here. notes: reader is hufflepuff and muggle-born in this one. summary: every year, the lestranges will hold a christmas party for only the oldest of pure-blood wizarding families. every year you are locked in your room while the party rages downstairs, but everything will change when tom riddle is invited to this year’s party. everything…

The Lestrange name definitely held some irony, considering how strange the family truly was. The Mother sent an owl at lunch, the rolled parchment dropping onto the plate in front of Tiernan Lestrange. On either side of him sat Clarence Avery and Liam Mulciber, who gazed down at the rolled parchment sealed with the Lestrange family crest with sparkling irises.

“Is it for the party, Lestrange?” Avery asked as Lestrange took another bite of his sandwich, dusting his hands off before finally taking a hold of the parchment, untying the ribbon keeping it closed. “More than likely,” he replied as the parchment unraveled, his mother’s handwriting gazing back up at him in inky black cursive letters.

‘To my dearest son,

Tell your friends they’re more than welcome to join us on Christmas Eve for the party. Invite that Head Boy you were writing to me about too. I am most interested to meet him, since you speak so highly of him. Remind the Girl that she is to not speak of the party, I simply cannot have any more of her kind in the house. I will see you at King’s Cross Station, my darling.

With all my love, your mother.’

Of course, the Girl referred to the Hufflepuff sitting all the way across the Great Hall at her own House’s table, her head down as she ate, so as to not catch the attention of her brother or any of his friends. She didn’t choose this family— and if it were her choice, she’d be far away from them— and neither did they.

It was the fault of whomever it was who dropped her onto the Lestranges’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning when she was only an infant. The Mother had given birth to her son only a few months before, and found the crying baby on her doorstep to be quite a burden.

She asked herself why the Mother and the Father even bothered keeping her, for even before they learned of her blood status, they hated her. Perhaps it was to uphold their reputation— taking in a child who wasn’t theirs? It was the perfect foundation for the story of a kind-hearted pure-blood family— how could the Lestranges let that opportunity go?

Of course, behind closed doors, she was treated less than a family member, some would argue far less than a house elf. She may as well have been a house elf if you ask her. She was treated like how they believed anyone of her kind should be treated— a mudblood deserved to be treated like the rubbish they are, they’d say.

Up until she got her Hogwarts letter, she believed them. She believed she deserved to be treated this way, that she deserved to be put through the torture that came with living with the Lestranges. She believed she had filthy blood, demon blood.

But all of that changed the second she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Of course, the Lestranges were at first very against letting her attend Hogwarts— mudbloods shouldn’t be taught magic, they’d say— but even they could only take so many letters flying through the fireplace or popping up in the stew before they gave in. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone of her blood status— “you are not to tell anyone of your filthy blood status,” the Father had told her with an accusatory finger in her face. “As far as anyone is concerned, you are pure-blood. So I expect you to act like it.”

Her school robes and supplies were not as grand as Tiernan’s, and she wasn’t allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. But she told herself that she would make do with what she had, and she felt at least a little bit grateful that the Lestranges didn’t give her tattered secondhand, even third-hand clothes, even if she knew it was all for the act.

When the Lestranges found out she had been sorted into Hufflepuff however, oh, it gave them all the more reason to ridicule and torture her back at home. “Of course the mudblood is in the weakest House,” the Mother would mutter beneath her breath as she and her husband read the letter their son had written. “We were fools to think that old ratty hat would sort her into Slytherin.”

Tiernan and his friends— they made certain that her life at Hogwarts was just as bad as her life at home. Of course, Tiernan was the only one who knew the truth about her blood, Avery, Mulciber, and the others just tagged along because they found it funny. They loved calling her names, making her trip in the hallways, pulling pranks such as jinxing her school books so that they may not open no matter how hard she tried.

And still, she didn’t dare stand her ground, for she knew all too well that the Mother and the Father would catch wind of it, and make certain that she’d be on the first train back to King’s Cross Station. So instead, she dealt with Tiernan and his friends, just like she learned to deal with everything else.

But Tom… Tom Riddle was different.

Tiernan Lestrange and his friends worshiped the ground Tom Riddle walked on, and it was no secret. She remembered when she first saw Tom, all the way back in the Sorting Ceremony in her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered hearing his name ‘Riddle, Tom’ being called and she remembered watching as he approached the platform, settling himself down onto the stool.

She remembered the way their eyes met and she swore her knees turned into jelly when she gazed into those dark ravines he had for irises. And she remembered when the Sorting Hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” hardly before it had even touched a hair on his head.

And she remembered how disappointed she felt when she was called up to be sorted, the Sorting Hat put her into Hufflepuff. She wanted to be a Slytherin— she wanted to be wherever Tom Riddle was.

In all her time at Hogwarts, she’d never even spoken a word to Tom Riddle. They’d pass each other in the halls, but thanks to her brother, she’d never been given the chance to even tell him hello. And Tiernan made it clear that she never would.

So life went on, and she got older. She hoped that over time, she’d forget about Tom. But it was hard when he was made prefect, and when he was given the Special Award for Services to the School, and when he was made Head Boy at the beginning of their seventh and final year.

She remembered her fifth year during all the attacks on muggle-borns vividly as if it were only yesterday. She remembered how frightened she was when she realized it was muggle-borns whatever it was was attacking. She remembered the panic she felt when Hogwarts was on the brink of being closed— she couldn’t have that! She belonged at Hogwarts, not out there with the Lestranges where she was treated like vermin.

At least here, she could pretend to be someone she was not.

Of course Tiernan was no help, always taunting her and teasing her that she’d be next. She remembered when she heard that it was Rubeus Hagrid who had freed the muggle-born killing beast, how although she felt that it could not be Hagrid, she felt a sense of relief when he was expelled, when all the attacks had stopped.

And of course it was Tom Riddle who caught him. And of course it just made her admire him more and more.

But she would keep her distance. She’d admire him from afar. She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment Tiernan would put her through if he found out she liked Tom Riddle.

“Yes! Looks like we’re invited, Mulciber,” Avery exclaimed, pumping his fist. Tiernan rolled his eyes at his friends, “you’re invited every year,” he replied, just as Tom entered the Great Hall, and they fell into silence as he approached.

She could see Tom over the tops of the heads of the Hufflepuffs in front of her, and she slowly sat up to get a better look. That was when Tom blinked up and she swore their eyes met, just for a moment, before he settled down into his seat, disappearing behind the heads of the other Hogwarts students. She felt herself flush as she hunched over her plate again, a small smile creeping onto her face.

“My Lord,” Tiernan Lestrange nodded as Tom settled himself between him and Liam Mulciber. Tom nodded in acknowledgement as he placed a few pieces of chicken onto his plate, and Tiernan’s gaze flickered from him to the rolled parchment in his lap. “My mother sent an owl,” he said, and Tom hummed in reply, nodding. Still, he said nothing.

Tiernan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, and Tom, with his eyes slightly narrower than before, peered up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Tiernan turned pink beneath Tom’s stare, and he presented the letter to him, Tom’s dark eyes flicking down to the inky black words on the scroll.

“My family, we… we hold a Christmas party every year,” he said, and when Tom glanced back up at him, he flushed again. “And you would’ve been invited! But it’s only for the oldest pure-blood families, and, well…” Tiernan trailed off when he saw the shadow looming over Tom’s already dark gaze, and Mulciber and Avery shifted in their seats uncomfortably.

Tiernan cleared his throat again, “but I’ve been speaking very highly of you to my mother. She wants you to come,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. Tom pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he stared back up at Lestrange, handing back the parchment. “Yes, I know. I can read, Tiernan,” Tom said sternly, and Tiernan clawed at his knees to prevent himself from trembling.

“Yes… well…” Lestrange said shakily as he rolled back up the parchment, slipping it inside one of his pockets. “…I’d really love it if you come. We’ll all be there— me, Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Nott— and our families too, so you can meet them all!”

Tom took a bite out of one of the chicken wings on his plate, placing it back down before wringing a napkin between his hands, gesturing towards Lestrange’s robes with his head. “Who is your mother referring to when she speaks of ‘the Girl?’” He asked, and heat crept back into Tiernan’s cheeks until they glowed scarlet. “Oh, you know… my sister…” he muttered, and Tom’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t she refer to her daughter by name?” Tom questioned, turning his body to fully face Tiernan, his interest piqued. “What does she mean by she ‘cannot have any more of her kind in the house?’”

The other boys leaned in to hear what Tiernan would say next, and he knew now that there was no way to get out of this. He’d have to tell the truth not only to his friends, but to his Lord.

“Forgive me, my Lord, for asking this of you,” Tiernan hung his head and muttered lowly towards Tom. “But I must ask that you promise you won’t tell another soul about this. This goes for all of you, too,” he said towards Tom and the rest of their group. Lestrange gazed into each of their eyes and held contact for a moment with each, to make it known that he was serious.

Tom shrugged, “I promise.”

Tiernan inhaled a shaky breath, before finally saying, “she… as you know, is not my sister,” he began. “And she’s not pure-blood, either. She’s a mudblood.”

Mulciber, Avery, and the others all leaned closer and broke into a sea of murmurs, “that sure explains a lot. But a mudblood? In the Lestrange family?” Tom remained silent as he stared at Lestrange, beckoning for him to continue. “Her filthy muggle parents left her on our doorstep after she was born. My mother and father took her in purely out of the goodness of their hearts,” Tiernan sat up and stuck out his chest proudly. “And they kept her, even when they learned where she came from. So you see now why she never comes to the party. Mother always tells guests she’s never home for the party anyways.”

The boys all laughed and ridiculed her while Tom, again, remained silent, staring absentmindedly down at his plate. He wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel. All this time he’d spent watching her, only catching glimpses of her from afar when he felt a gaze on him, watching as she turned away whenever she saw him with Tiernan and the others.

All this time he secretly lusted after her, the outcast of her family, the black sheep of the family. All this time he felt some sort of connection to her, all this time he felt he could relate to her because he, too, felt like an outcast. The outcast of the orphanage he grew up in, the outcast of the Gaunt family, the outcast of his muggle father’s family.

Tom Riddle never belonged anywhere, but he belonged here, at Hogwarts. And he knew she felt the same.

But would things change now that he knew she was muggle-born? Should he feel disgusted with himself now for ever thinking of pursuing her, for ever thinking of taking her in whichever way he pleased? Was it wrong of him to still lust for her, to still think of having his way with her?

Tom was clever but this, this he wasn’t sure of.

“So where has she been hiding during the parties?” Liam Mulciber asked, and Tiernan Lestrange snickered. “Mother and father force her up into her room. Says they’ll punish her accordingly if they hear even the smallest of noises coming from her room,” he replied, the boys erupting into another fit of snickers. Tom was still silent as he stared at his plate— he suddenly didn’t feel like eating.

The next day, she and a group of other Hogwarts students waiting to go home for the holidays gathered at Hogsmeade station, waiting for the arrival of the train. She snuck glances over to where Tiernan and his friends stood together, Tom in the middle of them all. She flushed and turned away when his head began to turn, and she moved to hide herself behind a few of her fellow Hufflepuffs, safe away from Tom Riddle’s view.

The train’s whistle echoed as the train emerged, slowing down to a stop before them. She dared gaze back over to where Tiernan stood with his friends as she waited for the doors to open, and when she did, Tom was no longer looking her way. She let herself stare for a little moment longer before she felt someone tap her shoulder, and blinked at the Hufflepuff girl in front of her with brown skin and shoulder length black hair she recognized as Clara Wingrave.

“Are you coming?” Clara asked, a furrow in her brow. She blinked and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat back down. “Yes, sorry Clara,” she mumbled as she followed the Hufflepuff girl onto the train, sliding into the seat opposite the one Clara chose. She sighed as she settled herself into the seat just as footsteps thundered through the train, and she hardly had any time to register what was happening before their compartment door slid open, revealing none other than Tiernan Lestrange, Clarence Avery, and Liam Mulciber, Tom and the other three boys nowhere in sight.

Clara narrowed her eyes at their intruders, “hey, go find your own—“

“Shut it,” Mulciber hissed towards her. “No one allowed you to speak.”

Clara’s glare hardened as Tiernan leaned down to block his adopted sister’s view, his lips curving into a cheshire grin. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt the strongest urge to slam them right into that crooked smile of his.

“Mother sent the owl this afternoon,” Tiernan muttered, and he needn’t elaborate, for she was already used to the rules she was forced to follow every year during the annual Lestrange Christmas party. “Oh yeah? And let me guess… I’m not to speak of the party, I’m not to attend the party, I’m to stay up in my room and if I make even the smallest of noises, I’ll be punished accordingly? Is that all?” She asked quietly, so that the girl across from her could not hear.

Tiernan scowled and grabbed for her throat, much to Clara’s shock as she shrieked, giving her a firm shake. She pressed her lips closed and gazed into Tiernan’s dark umber eyes as they gleamed with mischief. “You dare give me attitude?” He tsked. “You just wait. I’ll tell mother and father about this and—“

“—Tiernan? Won’t you leave her alone for Merlin’s sake, the train is about to leave.”

She along with Clara, Tiernan, and his friends snapped their heads to the open compartment door where the Head Boy now stood, a furrow in his brow. He narrowed his eyes every so slightly, and he looked irritated. She flushed when she saw him and turned away as Tiernan released her, dusting off his clothes. She glimpsed up at him as he turned to leave, not without making sure to flash a dirty look her way over his shoulder before he slid the compartment door closed behind him.

“What the hell was that about?” Clara gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “I know it is common for siblings to fight, but that was just absurd.”

She shook her head as she shifted in her seat, gazing out the window as the train began to move, and Hogsmeade station grew further and further away until it disappeared altogether.

“He’s not my brother.”

The train ride back to King’s Cross Station seemed to go by quicker than usual, much to her dismay. She wished she could stay on the train forever rather than have to go back to living with the Lestranges, and wished that she had an invisibility cloak so that she could hide and be on her way back to Hogwarts within the hour.

But, since she didn’t, she sighed as she collected her bag with her few belongings and exited her compartment, stepping out of the train and onto Platform 9¾, where her eyes immediately fell upon the Mother and the Father where they stood, eyes narrowed when they fell upon their muggle-born adopted daughter. She huffed as she made her way over to them, standing beside the Mother with a considerable amount of distance between them.

“Where is my son?” The Mother asked through gritted teeth, and she shrugged her shoulders. “He and his friends should be getting off soon,” she replied, not daring to turn to look at the Mother. Sure enough, almost as soon as she finished saying it, there stepped out Tiernan and his friends, Tom Riddle close behind. The other boys left to greet their own parents, but Tiernan and Tom made their way over to where she stood beside the Lestranges, and she flushed.

Why was Tom coming over here?

“Tiernan,” the Mother smiled, drawing her son into her chest for a hug. “And you must be… Tom, is that right? Hogwarts’ Head Boy?”

She glanced over to where Tom stood, a charming smile plastered his face and she could feel heat creep back up her neck. She turned away from him before he could catch her staring.

“It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lestrange,” Tom greeted them, shaking Mr Lestrange’s hand and giving the top of Mrs Lestrange’s a polite kiss. “Oh!” Mrs Lestrange giggled. “I like this one. The manners!”

Tom flashed his best smile but snuck a glimpse over to where the Lestranges adopted daughter stood, her arms crossed over herself as she looked anywhere but at him. He eyed her up and down just as Mrs Lestrange clutched either of his forearms, and he was forced to tear his attention away from the girl behind her.

“Tiernan here tells me you’re from the orphanage?” Mrs Lestrange asked and Tiernan felt like shriveling away beside Tom. Tom only nodded in reply to which Mrs Lestrange tutted, “how about this? You’re welcome to come and stay with us for the holidays. We’d be delighted to have you.”

She froze at this and her lips fell agape with the intent to protest, but nothing came out. She knew nothing she said would matter anyways, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being around Tom for the entirety of the holidays. She’d been comfortable leaving him at a safe distance away from her at school, but now she’d have to deal with seeing him at the Lestranges? She simply wouldn’t be able to trust herself being around him for so long.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Tom beamed as Mrs Lestrange fussed over him, leading him away from the platform, and she, the Father, and Tiernan followed close behind. Tiernan made a point of ramming his shoulder into her every once in a while, and it took everything within her to control herself, to not shout or push him away. The Father saw this was happening but did nothing to stop it.

It wasn’t longer before they finally entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to the fireplace, and they each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. The Father went first, then Mrs Lestrange, and Tiernan before it was down to her and Tom. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and she forced herself to look away as he stepped into the fireplace.

Tom was no stranger to her shy nature. He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, watching as she peeked over at him only to find he was staring, and looked away again. He smiled, exclaimed “Lestrange Manor!” and he was gone, leaving her alone.

Soon, she too was back in the Lestrange Manor, and she nearly ran into Tom where he stood just before the fireplace. Her palms instinctively fell onto his back to find her balance, and oh, how she felt she’d explode where she stood.

It was the first time she had ever touched Tom, and she truly did not expect him to be so warm. Tom glanced back over his shoulder when he felt her hands on him and swiftly stepped out of her way, feeling her touch lingering on his back where she had touched him. Something ignited within him at that touch, and every doubt he had about still wanting to pursue her seemed to fray away.

He wanted her.

“Welcome to our home!” The Mother exclaimed with a smile as she dusted off the shoulder of Tom’s coat where some ash had fallen, letting her palms soothe back down all the way to his elbows. “Tiernan will show you where you will be staying. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

She began to follow Tiernan and Tom as they headed for the staircase leading to the next level, but just before she could, the Mother grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her backwards to face her and the Father. She scowled down at her adopted daughter as soon as she made certain Tom was out of sight and leaned down until they were eye level.

“Listen to me, girl, and listen to me good,” the Mother said lowly. “You are to be on your best behavior while we have a guest in the home. You are to stay up in your room for the holidays except for meals, do you understand me, girl?”

She blinked— normally, she’d hate the fact that she had to stay up in her room all hours of the day, but instead, she felt relief surge through her. At least she wouldn’t have to see Tom, at least she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in front of him.

“Yes, Madam Lestrange,” she said as the Mother released her elbow, and the Father stepped forward, leaning down to eye level.

“And you mustn’t leave your room under any circumstances during the party tomorrow evening,” he muttered. “If I hear even the smallest of sounds coming from your bedroom, I will punish accordingly and do understand, I will not show mercy.”

She heard this rule every year, but still to this day, the way the Father threatened her sent chills down her spine. “Yes, Mr Lestrange,” she nodded and when the Father waved her off, she walked as fast as she could towards the stairs, practically sprinting up the steps and down the hallway until she finally reached her bedroom.

Tom and the rest of the Lestranges were already in the dining room when she finally bounded down the steps, and he could tell Mr and Mrs Lestrange were using all the self restraint they had within them to not blow up at her, most likely for his sake. He watched as she sat down across the table from where he and Tiernan sat, carefully only placing a small selection of food onto her plate.

He glanced back over to where Mr Lestrange sat on one end of the long dining table before looking over at Mrs Lestrange on the other end. Neither paid her any attention, or showed any intention of speaking to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either.

“So, Tom, Tiernan tells me you’re exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Mr Lestrange said, shaking Tom from his thoughts. He forced a small smile as he nodded, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Yes, actually, I wish to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher one day.”

She listened as she finished her dinner as quickly as she could, but she didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Tom’s story. She gazed over at the Mother who only nodded that she may be excused before she gathered her plate and hurried off to the kitchen where the Lestranges house elf cleaned.

“Thank you for the food, Gimbel,” she nodded at the house elf who only nodded back as she set her dirty plate on the pile of unclean dishes the house elf had stacked on the countertop. She hurried back upstairs where she shut herself in her room, sighing as she fell onto her mattress.

All she had left to endure was breakfast tomorrow morning, and she’d be free of seeing Tom for the rest of the day. She rested her arm over her eyes, her heart beating against her chest. She couldn’t believe the boy she’s been pining after since her first year is in her house, staying in only a few rooms down from hers. How she wished she could talk to him, to treat him like a guest rather than act like he wasn’t even there at all.

She even, for a moment, wished she was a true member of the Lestrange family, so that she could be treated as an equal.

Tom hardly saw her for breakfast the next morning, for as soon as he and Tiernan had entered the dining room, she was seemingly finished with her food, and once again scurried off towards the kitchen as she did the night before. Tiernan scoffed when he saw this as they took their seats on one side of the long dining table, loading their plates with biscuits and bacon and eggs.

“I apologize for her… strange behavior, my Lord,” Tiernan muttered to home as Tom took a sip of milk. “She’s always like this, you see.” Tom didn’t care to listen to whatever else Tiernan had to say about his adopted sister. Tom had already made up his mind about her, it was how he’d find the chance to talk to her that was the problem.

She seemed to avoid him like the plague, and he knew he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing her at all the rest of the day, since the Lestranges locked her in her room while they hosted their party. Tom was clever, so surely he’d be able to find a way around it?

But as the time for the party to begin approached, he still came up with nothing. He had no excuse for wanting to see her, and with Tiernan practically breathing down his neck, he hadn’t any chance of sneaking away any time soon. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to see her at all when the party began and Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, and Nott all came rushing towards him and Lestrange. He had no space absolutely no space and no time to sneak away.

“Don’t worry,” Lestrange was saying to his friends. “The mudblood is upstairs in her bedroom. Won’t be coming out at all tonight, that one.” The boys snickered as they called her names and made jokes about her, but Tom wasn’t listening. Even though it seemed as if all hope of seeing her tonight was lost, he was still thinking of every possible excuse he could come up with to sneak away.

But fortunately, he wouldn’t have to contemplate for much longer.

“Blast,” Lestrange cursed, feeling around his pockets. Clarence Avery furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his friend, the others soon joining in. “What is it?” Liam Mulciber asked as Lestrange emptied each of his pockets, coming up with nothing. “Left my damn wand in my room,” Lestrange muttered, and Tom perked at this. Lestrange turned to Tom and stepped closer to murmur close to his ear, “forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord, but I simply do not trust the others. Will you go upstairs and retrieve my wand for me? I can’t go upstairs, mother and father said I need to stay down here.”

If Tom was the type, he’d laugh and jump up and down at the request. All day he had been trying to come up with some sort of excuse to slip away from the party, and now he finally had one. He cleared his throat and nodded, “of course,” he said to Lestrange before making his way over towards the staircase, but he did not stop at Tiernan’s bedroom door as he passed.

Instead, he walked a little further down the Lestranges upstairs hallway, stopping at the last door on the left where she was, the black wooden door the only thing separating him from her now. Tom raised a fist to the door and knocked, and for a moment, it was silent on the other side.

Who could possibly be knocking at her door?

She knew it could not be any of the Lestranges, for they would’ve just burst through the door without any respect for her privacy anyways. It couldn’t be Gimbel either, the house elf never came to her room. She grew weary as she closed her book and set it down on the mattress beside her, clearing her throat before murmuring a low, “come in.”

She watched as the handle to her door twisted and it swung open, and when she saw who was standing there in her doorway, she felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She’d only ever dreamed of Tom Riddle being in her bedroom, but never before did she actually think he’d really come in here.

But there he was. There Tom Riddle stood, closing the door behind him and turning to gaze at her where she sat on her bed, his eyes entrancing as they were dark. Even from across the room, his irises seemed to pull her in like they were magnets and she was metal, and she lost herself further and further into his soul…

“Forgive me,” Tom said, and she blinked. Those were the first words she had ever heard him direct towards her. “I would not usually barge into a lady’s room like this.”

Fire raged across her skin, up her neck, and to her cheeks until they were seared with flame. She suddenly had the strongest urge to open the window, wondering if she had broken into a sweat yet or not.

She blinked again, and the corner of Tom’s lips curved into a soft smile. He knew he already had her wrapped around his finger.

“Your brother thought he left something in here,” he said, gesturing towards her desk against the far wall of the room. “May I?”

She could not think of anything Tiernan could have possibly left in her room, but she wouldn’t dare question Tom, so instead she nodded, and she watched as he strode across the room, opening her desk drawers and sifting through its contents.

Of course, Tom wasn’t searching for anything. But she needn’t know that yet.

“Hm,” Tom hummed, closing the drawers he had opened and turning to face her again, leaning back against the wooden desk. “Perhaps, your brother was mistaken.”

She felt small underneath Tom’s gaze, and she felt as though she could curl herself into a ball right now and shrivel away. But instead she sat still on her bed, unable to speak, unable to move. Tom chuckled and she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally cursing herself for being so shy. Typical Hufflepuff, she could imagine her adopted brother sneering.

“You know, you should really join the party,” Tom said, hoping to break the ice between them. She soothed the skin of her arms with her palms and rubbed at her elbows, shaking her head. “The Mother and the Father won’t let me attend,” she managed to speak at last, and she gulped down the lump in her throat.

Although Tom already knew the answer, he still tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Why is that?” He asked, and she swallowed again, forcing back down the truth. She dropped her head and shrugged, “because I’m different.”

Tom blinked, and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, still living at the orphanage he grew up in. For over ten years, he grew up unlike all the other children, and even at an early and young age, he knew that he was different. It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore came to visit him that he finally understood why he felt this way.

It was different in her case, because at least she knew why she was different. But they were still treated the same, like they were misfits, rejects, outcasts. It was then that he understood the connection he felt towards her with a different meaning, that he first noticed this string tethering them together.

They had both been lost before, but just like he had found himself, she could be found too. Tom could be the one to find her, for he seemed to be the only one who understood her.

Tom’s footsteps permeated her bedroom as he made his way over towards her bed, setting himself down on the mattress beside her. She flinched when she felt the bed dip beneath his weight, and it was then that it occurred to her just how close he was.

They had never ever been this close before.

“Why are you different?” He asked, gazing down at her as she peered up, their eyes meeting closer than they ever have before. For a moment she said nothing, only continued to lose herself further in the dark depths of the treacherous caverns that were his eyes. He studied her— her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips.

It was no secret that she was beautiful, even Tom could admit that. But she was vulnerable, it was clear the moment Tom met her eyes again. And Tom could work with vulnerability.

“Well…” she trailed off, contemplating how much she should tell him. Tom’s fingers grazed against her knee and she trembled, her eyes flicking down to his hand and back up to his face. “You can tell me,” Tom said warmly. “You can tell me anything.”

She blinked. Never before had she heard those words. Nobody has ever wanted to hear her story before, for they all thought they already knew it all by now. She was the child who was left on the Lestranges doorstep as a baby, the child the Lestranges took in to ‘raise as their own’ because they just couldn’t bear giving such a young girl away since they were so kindhearted.

So never had she ever thought she’d be given the chance to tell someone about herself, to let someone read her story. But there was something about Tom, and she felt like she could trust him.

“I’m… I was left on their doorstep as a baby,” she began, and Tom nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I was… I am muggle-born…” she trailed off, wincing as she searched Tom’s face for disgust, but he didn’t even recoil. He only gazed at her with that same patient stare, waiting for her to keep going.

So she did.

“They hate me for it,” she added. “For having dirty blood. I’m not sure why they kept me, I could’ve been a Squib or not even a witch at all for that matter. Thankfully, I got my Hogwarts letter when Tiernan did.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, Tom’s warmth drawing her even closer to him. “It certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat back down again, and Tom let his palm rest on her knee again, his touch warm, like a kiss from the sun itself. She felt relaxed when he touched her, despite how nervous she actually was inside.

“They treat me… so bad,” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”

Her voice wavered before it broke, and when it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to continue, the hand that had previously been resting on her knee retreated so that it may instead reach her face. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to his, her teary eyes searching his for something, anything she could hold onto. Warmth, comfort, reassurance, hope, anything.

So Tom would tell her what she wanted to hear.

“You are not nothing,” Tom murmured, and her lip quivered the longer she stared at him. “You are somebody. Don’t let them take that feeling away from you.”

She blinked and her brow softened, her vision blurring with tears. She was somebody. Tom Riddle thought she was somebody.

And somehow, that seemed to be all she needed to hear.

A silence ensued and they only gazed deeper into one another’s eyes. With the grip still on her chin, he drew her near and he leaned down to meet her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly, as tenderly as he could. He felt the way she shuddered under his touch, as if his kiss was a tranquilizer, and she was becoming limp and pliant, all for him.

So he kissed her deeper, he kissed her harder. His tongue was warm in her mouth as she let him reign dominance over her own, her hands shaking as one cupped the side of his face and the other grabbed his bicep.

This was what Tom Riddle had been fantasizing about for years. To have her compliant beneath him, to have her completely under his control. He loved how easy it was, how easy it was to have her. Although he’d admit, this connection he felt towards her was growing, and it was growing at an alarming rate. As he pushed her down onto the mattress and trailed his kisses down from her lips to her jaw, he found that his heart burned, as if she had set it aflame, and this feeling was foreign to him.

He had no idea what this tenderness he felt was, whether he dared call it love or not. For eighteen years, he was under the impression that he couldn’t love, that love simply just wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was completely okay with that.

But this feeling, whatever it was he felt for her, came unexpectedly, and he was unsure whether or not he should embrace it or push it away.

For now, he worked at unbuttoning her blouse as he sucked marks into her neck, his tongue swirling around her collarbone.

She pressed her lips together to contain her noises as Tom slipped her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms, discarding it down onto the floor altogether. He made quick work of her brassiere, his lips previously kissing her collarbone venturing down between the valley of her breasts, sucking marks onto either mounds of flesh.

“T… Tom,” she mewled as he pressed a kiss to one of her nipples, kneading her opposite breast with his palm. He hummed in reply, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked the erect bud, releasing it with a wet pop before doing the same to the other. She squirmed beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut, arching her back up off of the mattress. “T… Tom, I… they will punish me if they hear me.”

Tom smirked against her skin as he released her nipple from his mouth and kissed down her stomach, past her belly button, all the way to the hem of her skirt. He pushed himself up by the elbows as he hooked his fingers over the hem, beginning to tug them down her thighs.

“Then I suggest you stay quiet,” he said simply as he removed her skirt from her ankles, her panties soon joining the sea of clothes on the floor as well.

She sank her teeth down into her bottom lip so hard when he placed a kiss just above her aching clit, she feared she’d draw blood. Tom eyed her through his hooded stare as he teasingly dipped his tongue past her folds, testing the waters. He watched as her face scrunched and she kicked her legs, arching her back at just the simplest of touches.

So eager, he thought.

He soothed her stomach with one of his palms as he pecked her clit, watching the way she trembled and writhed, whining behind closed lips, silent pleading for more. Tears broke past the glossy barrier of her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks like crystals, and he smirked as he pressed his lips down against her heat, sucking her clit as it throbbed and ached to be touched.

She threw her hands down on the mattress on either side of her, her fingernails clawing at the sheets as he flicked his tongue up and down her slit, humming at the taste of her nectar on his tongue. She tried to watch as he lapped up the juices spilling down her folds before flicking his tongue against her bud again, but she couldn’t even hold herself up, much less keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds.

“P… please,” she mewled quietly as one of her hands ventured down between her legs to grip at his hair, and she ground her hips against his face, eager for more. That was when Tom stopped and pried her hand away from his head, and she blinked up at him through her bleary eyes.

“Do you want to come?” He asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, shouldering it off of him and tossing it to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. She gaped at the sight of his chest, but he grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him, squishing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”

She trembled and felt her walls clench at his words, nodding up and down. “Yes. Yes please,” she whimpered as he tore his hand away from her face to work on his belt, tossing it and his trousers away until he stood before her completely in the nude, in all of his glory.

He was beautiful. And he was already beautiful to begin with but this, she never could have even imagined how he looked underneath the clothes. He wasn’t muscular or built like a statue or even a Quidditch player, but still, his arms and torso were toned, and his cock…

She could feel her patience slipping away the longer he kept her waiting. She watched as he took a hold of his cock and stared down at her, maintaining eye contact as he gave himself a few pumps, his other hand absentmindedly stroking up and down her slick. She bit down onto her lip as she gazed up at him, watching him in anticipation for what was to come next.

Tom leaned back down to her face and captured her lips with his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He kissed her again and again and again as he slipped inside of her, her moans muffled by his mouth on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, etching crescent moons into his flesh. Tom broke their kiss and let his forehead drop onto hers as he rocked his hips into her, slowly at first. One of her hands slithered to cup the back of his neck as tears streamed down the sides of her face, never feeling this good in all her years.

Tom let his gaze fall upon her face again, her eyelids squeezed shut but her face scrunched in pleasure, every once in a while muffling her sounds by pressing her face into his shoulder. He began to thrust harder than before, her legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing, beckoning him further inside of her. So he fucked her harder, and harder and harder and harder as if he intended to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces.

And maybe that was the goal all along.

Never has Tom felt this good, never had he felt so intoxicated by another person, and never did he believe he could be so attached to someone else before. Part of him hated it, part of him wanted to throw it away and stomp on it and set it on fire.

But the other part of him embraced it, another part of him felt powerful as he fucked into her with reckless abandon, powerful having someone underneath his control. He never imagined another person could feel so good, he never imagined someone else could make him feel so infinite. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine on his own.

But this was different. This was on a whole other level of power. He felt strong, even when she clenched around him and gushed around his cock, even when he felt himself so close to the edge, so close to releasing himself for another person.

He pushed away from from her and groped her chest with one hand, holding onto her shoulder with the other as he fucked her harder than before, without a care for how much noise they were making. He’d make it up to the Lestranges, he’d go down and tell them it was him making all the noise, it wasn’t like they’d punish him.

For now, he focused on chasing his release, on the way she felt around him, on the way he was so close to climax he could practically taste it. She sobbed beneath him and her lips fell agape with the intent of screaming his name but he clapped his hand around her mouth before she could as he thrusted again and again and again until finally he released, and warmth surged through her.

Tom’s chest heaved and he fell on top of her as she cried, motionless beneath him. Sweat made her skin glisten and tears made her cheeks swollen and sticky, but he found that he admired her all the same.

This warmth in his chest was new, and it was a feeling he couldn’t quite place or put a finger on. But if whatever it was could make him feel like he was on top of the world, like he was the most powerful being on this Earth, like he was infinite…

…then surely he could learn to embrace it.

a/n; oop this is the longest imagine i’ve ever written 🙈 thank you so much for the request anon! i wrote this one up pretty fast because i really liked the idea, it definitely wasn’t stupid! so i hope this is close to what you’ve been imagining!! and feel free to send in more requests if you’d like! i love writing requests!

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #wizarding world #harry potter fic #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #harry potter #tom marvolo riddle

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huhniebowl · 7 months

Text

Miss Me?

dominic fike x reader

warnings: nonee

a/n:...hey yall. IM BACK! i missed u pookey🥹.

i'm so sorry for my absence, i missed writing so much, but most of all i missed talking & interacting with u all. second to last year at uni is just really kicking my ass as of late. i've also had insane writer's block, and still do. my confidence as a writer has been at an all-time low, so i hope this short blurb does justice for u! ♥️

i finally have a bit of a breather, so i'm going to work my ass off on requests & hopefully gain my confidence back in the midst of it all.

i love u guys so so much, please enjoy! feels good to be back. :)

Thunder crackles outside, rain pelting against the windows in your room. You have a candle lit on your nightstand, next to your lamp that helps emit a warm glow to the room. It’s nights like these that feel content.

They feel safe. A steaming cup of hot cocoa, an oversized jumper, and a good book. Legs tucked to the side under your comforter.

You’re only missing one thing.

You just about hit the part you’ve been waiting for in your book when you hear shuffling outside the room, and then the door creaking open. Just on time.

Dominic.

He had locked himself in his in-home studio, two doors down from the bedroom. Despite his album drop in the summer, it’s October now and he’s already working towards his third. You admire his dedication and love for his craft, really you do, but he looks tired.

Between the take-off of his acting career, touring, and his new album, he’s consistently on the go. You push your reading glasses up and softly smile at him.

“Hey, how’s it coming along?” Dom shrugs, closing the door behind him and pulling his hoodie overhead, throwing it on the floor. He smoothes down his band tee and wordlessly climbs into bed with you. He moves in close, swipes your book from your hands, and lightly tosses it on his nightstand.

You grin, and open your arms wide when he maneuvers himself on top of you. You untuck your legs and spread them out to accommodate him. He lays between them, his cheek pressed snuggly against the space where your neck and shoulder meet. He lets out a breath and you feel his body melt against yours.

“Missed you.” He mumbles, peppering kisses on your shoulder, then he moves up to your face. You laugh, his curls falling forward around his face and tickling your cheeks. You bring your arms around his neck, fingertips dipping under his shirt to run along the top of his back, before skimming them over the nape of his neck.

“I’d miss me too if I locked myself in a room for.” You glance over at the wall clock, it's 1 a.m.

“8 hours!? Jesus, Dom.” Dominic drops face-first onto your chest and curls up into you. One arm wrapped around your stomach, the other lying next to you.

“That’s like a regular workday.” He counters, and you roll your eyes, reaching for the remote to turn on the TV for some background noise.

It causes you to unwrap your arms from around him. You’re just barely able to click on a random episode of some adult cartoon before Dominic lets out a noise of protest.

“No.” He mumbles.

“It hasn’t even been 15 seconds.” You roll your eyes, but nonetheless, you put the remote on your nightstand, click off the lamp, and scoop your boyfriend back into your arms. He says something sarcastic and witty into your shirt, but you don’t have in yourself tonight to rile him up. So you bring a hand up to his hair and rake your nails along his scalp.

Having Dom this close feels surreal, despite it being years since you began dating. The steady beat of his heart against you. The sigh of contentment he lets go of when you hold him closer and squeeze. Even the grounding grip of his hand laced around yours has you slipping away.

He holds on to you as if you’d slip away from him. Like you’d leave him given the opportunity. That theory’s proved right when you lightly shift down to get yourself more comfortable and on instinct, his hold on you tightens.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” You whisper, kissing his forehead. He hums, moving in closer. He’s so close you can feel his eyelashes wisp against your skin. It reminds you of a fairy. Delicate and soft.

“Did you miss me today?” You remove your reading glasses and place them next to your cup.

“I always miss you.” You start, rubbing a hand down his back.

“How much?”

“I missed you as much as I miss Abbott Elementry.” You feel him laugh, and shift so he can look up at you.

“You know you’re probably never getting a season 3 right?” You roll your eyes, push his head back down, and purposely tug a little hard at a curl on the nape of his neck.

“Fuck you.” He whines, flinching at the pull. You giggle, quickly smoothing your hand over where you pulled. It goes silent after that.

Rick and Morty fills up the silence.

You start to believe that Dom has fallen asleep, but when you glance down, you see him staring at the rain hitting the window. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, you can almost see the cogs working in his head.

“Are you happy with me?” He suddenly whispers, and it’s then you understand his silence. You do everything in your power to always make sure Dom knows how much you love him. How much he makes you happy. How much he makes you smile and makes your life feel like it’s worth living.

Though, no matter how clear you make that, there are still those days when Dom gets in his head. Where his usual rationality, seems to diminish. But you’re always there. Ready to take it all away.

“Hey.” You start, and the pad of your thumb rubs over his cheekbone. “I honestly don’t think there’s a word I can use that could describe how happy you make me. How safe and content I feel just knowing that I get to come home to you.”

Dominic shuffles, and you feel his eyelashes flutter closed against your thumb. “I’m more than happy with you. And believe me, when I say, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Dom deeply inhales, then breathes out. His hand squeezes yours, and you feel a kiss being placed on your chest, then your collarbone. One under your chin, then behind your ear. The top of your cheek, the corner of your eye, and finally, he presses a lingering kiss on your lips.

You press the palm of your hand on the side of his face and push him deeper into you. Kissing him with an intensity you hope says a thousand words.

He pulls away first and rests his forehead against yours. He’s silent for a moment, the both of you trying to catch your breaths. You see the side of his top lip quirk up, and he pulls back from your face.

“Maybe you’ll get your season three after all. I’ll make a few calls tomorrow.” You laugh out. It’s loud and comes straight from your belly. You mush his face to the side when he starts laughing with you.

“Oh, fuck you.”

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fuxuannie · 11 months

Note

🐠 haii for the requests milestone thingy could u do pavitr prabhakar x reader and the prompt “are we ab to kiss rn” and then the other actually leans in? c: TY IF U CAN ‼️❤️💖

↳ pairing : pavtir prabhakar x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : request ♡

↳ authors note : EUEEUEEU this is sosososo cute actually, i love this idea sm. ATSV SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!! im not entirely sure if i like this.. bute eeurrueue i tried my best

You and PAVITR had known each other for a while, long enough that he trusts you with his secret of being Spiderman with how close you two were.

Now you were on one of the tallest buildings in Mumbattan, swinging your feet over the ledge as Pavitr sat beside you with his hand unintentionally holding onto yours firmly since there was a small bit of lingering fear at the idea of you falling.

"Jeez, finally.. a break." He sighs in relief, taking off his mask with his free hand as you chuckle. "Isn't being Spiderman supposed to be sooo easy, Pav?" You teased, watching him roll his eyes in amusement. "Well, of course it is. But it certainly is busy, and I really just wanna spend time with you." Pavitr answers honestly, noticing how you seemed to be even just a little surprised and he was very entertained by that idea. You can already see his own little smirk beginning to form.

You clear your throat to hopefully shift the topic. "What made you so burnt-out today then?"

It didn't take long for you to see how his face shifts to a frown, and you knew exactly what he was about to bring up. "Miguel.. he's been so hard on some of us recently, especially the new-comers who he introduced the 'canon events' to." Pavitr runs a hand through his hair, his sigh was a mix of sadness and frustration as he recalls the events that occured earlier in the day. "They just want to save their loved ones.. no one can accept that kind of information and simply allow it to happen, you know?"

You nod along with his statement, unable to even imagine the dread those people must feel, just waiting for the people they care about most to die for their own development.

"But that's a sad topic, and today is supposed to be a nice resting day for the both of us." Pavitr smiles a little to lighten the mood, squeezing your hand softly as you take a deep breath. "Mines not been the best either.."

The smile he tries to hold falters at those words.

"Mom.. she's still very insistent on the arranged marriage." You let out a forced and bitter laugh. "I don't.. I mean, I don't know if I want to marry that person when I'm older. I've met them twice, Pav. And in the future, I have to spend every single loving who is essentially a stranger. Isn't that even a little weird in my parents eyes?"

He hated seeing how hopeless you looked, having no choice in who you want to love is devestating and in some cases lonely. Seeing real couples on the street and wondering what kind of innocent love you're likely missing out on.

Pavitr stands up and your head follows him as he does so, watching his determination-filled face as he pulls you up with ease. "Let's not wallow in sadness, yes? I'd much rather see you smile than frown." His hand makes its way to your cheek, causing you to chuckle softly as you lean into the touch and place your hand over his. "Thanks, Pav."

And without thinking, the next sentence you manage to stupidly utter out is; "Gosh, I wish you were the one I married instead."

You can see the visible surprise in his face when you say that, before you realize what exactly escaped your lips. "W-wait..-"

But it seems like Pavitr seems more affected than you, the hand once placed on your cheek immediately pulled back to cover his mouth and the uncontrollable but flustered smile on his face.

"You want to marry me??"

Instead of a mocking or angry tone, he seems genuinely happy that the person he's had a secret crush on for year or so finally gives some sort of hint that he's more than a friend.

"Do you mean it? Like.. really mean it?"

"I mean, yeah! Anyone would want to marry you.."

There's silence exchanged between the two of you, staring at each other in confusion, disbelief and surprise.

"What? Are we about to kiss right now?"

Pavitr teased to ease his nerves, but imagine how much worse they got when you actually started to lean in. He begins to quietly panic, however in all honesty he wants to do nothing else but kiss you at the moment. What if he never gets the chance to do it again? He couldn't risk that.

He finally presses his lips against yours, albeit very very nervously but a kiss is a kiss and goodness is he into it. Pavitr melts into the intimacy, but is very quick to pull away incase you're uncomfortable.

It seems almost impossible how fast his heart is racing when he watches your eyes flutter open and the realization that you actually kissed Pavitr rushes through your head quickly.

...

"Can we do that again..?"

"Gladly."

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #atsv x reader #spiderman x reader

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saleeba · 2 months

Text

the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season.

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property.

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom.

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him.

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets.

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.”

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?”

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?”

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’.

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years.

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind.

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one.

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most.

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail.

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts.

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material.

“william…”

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy.

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds.

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face.

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you.

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.”

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn.

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.”

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?”

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water.

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency.

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?”

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can.

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end.

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words.

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution.

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy.

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy.

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid.

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed.

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen.

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it.

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand.

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like.

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body.

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful.

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more.

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more.

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest.

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow.

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover.

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple.

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders.

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger.

“i’m all ears.”

#MAH DICK FELL AWFF #guys it’s not even funny anymore i NEED him to put a baby in meeeeeeeeee 😫😫😫😫😫😫#literally the only french person that deserves rights EVURRRRRRRR he can put his oui oui baguette right inside this pu-#the only man i would cook and clean for i promiseeeee you #william saliba #william saliba imagine #william saliba smut #william saliba x reader #william saliba x you #william saliba x y/n #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer smut #˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗

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itsmealaiah · 1 month

Text

TW: comfort angst, use of alcohol, drinking, p in v sex, protected sex, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, idk how to describe it so like make up sex?

Request: (by @il0vet0mk4ulitz) hopefully u write this on ur massive writing request rampage, can you write about tom and y/n being connected again by seeing each other at a bar after being broken up for 4 years. he's older now (2014 era) and they go back to his, catch up on things and then start to kiss which leads to sexy time tyyy love <33

Rating: mature themes ahead! mdni, please mind the tags!

WC: 2.3k

Not proofread!

The dim lighting of the bar made it difficult for Tom to make out any distinct features of the woman across the room, but he could tell it was you. Four years ago, you had been inseparable, but now, you were strangers. He hadn't seen you since you left him that day, and the pain had been unbearable. But tonight, as he watched you laugh and sip your drink, he couldn't help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe this was the moment he'd been waiting for, the moment when fate brought you back together.

He gathered his courage and made his way over to your table. As he slid into the booth next to you, you looked up at him, your eyes widening in recognition. "Tom?"

"Hi, y/n," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't want to scare you off. "It's been a long time."

You nodded, still looking a little unsure. "It has," you agreed. There was an awkward silence as you both took each other in. Tom hadn't realized how much you'd grown up since he'd last seen you. You looked so confident and put together now. "How have you been?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"I've been alright," Tom replied, gesturing for the bartender to bring him a drink. "the band's been pretty busy. How about you?"

You told him about your new job, the apartment you'd moved into, and the trips you'd taken over the past four years. As you talked, Tom found himself lost in your eyes again, the pain of the past fading away. It felt like no time had passed at all. When the conversation began to flow more easily, he reached over and took your hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. You looked up at him, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"So," you said, clearing your throat, "you still live around here?"

"Yeah," Tom replied, nodding. "I moved into a new place with bill when we broke up. It's nothing fancy, but it's close to everything."

You looked down at your hand, still intertwined with his. "I'm glad you've been doing alright," you said softly. "I've missed you."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. Tom leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I've missed you too, y/n." He could feel the tension building between you, and he knew that if he didn't make a move soon, he'd regret it.

Slowly, he traced his finger along your jawline, down the length of your neck, before pulling you closer. Your lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss. It was as if no time had passed since the last time you'd been together, the kisses still seemingly full of love.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the tension begin to ease from your bodies. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body against his, wanting to feel as close to him as possible. Tom let out a low groan, his hands sliding up under your shirt, tracing the outline of your back.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the feeling of being together again. The music around you faded away, the noise of the bar disappeared, and it was just the two of you. It felt right, so right, like nothing had ever changed.

Eventually, you pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. Tom's eyes were still locked on yours, his expression a mixture of desire and tenderness. "Do you want to come back to my place?" he asked, his voice husky.

You smiled, feeling a shiver run down your spine. "I'd like that," you replied, a note of longing in your voice. "I'd really like that."

You finished your drink and stood up, allowing Tom to help you gather your things. As you walked out of the bar, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, as if you were finally able to breathe again. The night air was cool against your skin, and you held onto tom's, drawing him closer. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand finding the small of your back as he led you to his car. The drive seemed to pass in a blur, your heart racing with anticipation of what was to come.

When you finally arrived at his place, Tom fumbled for his keys, unlocking the door and ushering you inside. The apartment was cozy and warm, with a comfortable couch and a well-lit kitchen. You followed him into the bedroom, your gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings. The bed was unmade, the sheets tangled and inviting. You couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to lie there with Tom again.

He closed the door behind you and turned to face you, taking in your appearance. You could see the desire burning in his eyes, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "You're even more beautiful than I remember," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

Slowly, he reached up and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. His eyes never left yours as he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, their softness molding against yours. Your bodies melted together, his strength holding you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands roamed down your back, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingertips. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you, and it sent a wave of desire coursing through you.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air as he trailed his lips down your neck, sucking gently on the soft skin there. His hands moved lower, sliding over your hips and then lower still, until they were cupping your ass. He squeezed gently, pulling you closer against his hard length. You moaned, arching your back as you felt the need for him grow more urgent.

He turned you around, pressing you against the wall, his body pinning you there. His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands found the buttons of your shirt. With shaking fingers, he undid them one by one, revealing your bare skin to his touch. He traced the outline of your breasts with his thumbs, causing them to peak through the lace of your bra. You arched your back, wanting more, needing him closer. He reached behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, freeing your breasts from their confines.

He cupped them in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You cried out, the sensation almost too much to bear. He leaned down, taking one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder as he flicked his tongue against the peak. You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, your body trembling with desire. He switched to the other breast, treating it to the same attentive love, teasing and pleasuring until you were lost in the sensation of his touch.

Finally, he released you, breathing heavily against your neck. You could feel the heat from his body, the hardness of his erection pressed against you. He unbuckled his belt, lowered his pants, and kicked them off, revealing his arousal. His hands went to the button of your jeans, and then with a gentle tug, he slid them down your hips, over your legs, until you were standing before him in only your underwear.

He stepped back, taking in the sight of you. You could feel a blush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, but the desire in his eyes made you feel beautiful, desired. He moved forward again, his lips finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands moved up your sides, cupping your breasts once more, before sliding down to your hips, helping to guide you to the bed.

As you fell onto the mattress, he followed, his weight pressing you into the soft surface. His kisses trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, to your breast. He cupped your breast in his hand, his thumb circling your nipple as he lowered his head, taking the hardened peak into his mouth. You moaned, arching your back, the sensation almost too much to bear.

He moved lower, his tongue tracing the line of your ribs before reaching your navel. He teased it with his tongue, circling it before finally dipping inside. You gasped, your hips lifting off the bed as you felt the need for him grow more urgent. He slid his hand down between your legs, feeling the wetness of your arousal. He parted your folds, exposing your swollen clit, and began to tease it with his fingers.

You cried out, your body trembling as he brought you to the brink of orgasm. You felt the sensation building, growing more intense with each stroke of his fingers. You arched your back, your legs falling open wider, giving him better access. And then he pressed two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot, and began to thrust. You screamed, your body convulsing as the pleasure overtook you. You came hard, your inner walls squeezing around his fingers as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.

He held you close, his lips moving over your neck and shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. You felt his erection pressed against your leg, and the thought of him being inside you for the first time in four years sent a shiver down your spine. He rolled off you, reaching for a condom from his bedside table, and rolled it on with practiced ease. Then he was back on top of you, his weight pinning you to the bed. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes meeting yours in the darkness.

With one smooth thrust, he was inside you, filling you up in a way that had been achingly empty for so long. You cried out, arching your back as he buried himself to the hilt. The sensation of being connected to him again was overwhelming, and you felt a fresh wave of desire wash over you. He began to move, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythmic cadence that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

He held your gaze as he fucked you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. His fingers dug into your hips, urging you to meet his thrusts, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into the sensation. He was so big, so solid, and the feel of him moving inside you was almost too much to bear.

You moaned, arching your back as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. He growled, his hips snapping faster in response. You could feel the heat building between you, and with each passing second it grew more intense. You tried to match his pace, but found yourself unable to keep up with his strength.

His movements became rougher, more demanding. He slammed into you, over and over, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm that felt almost primal. You could feel the head of his cock brush against something deep inside you with each thrust, and it sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice raw with desire. "Let me feel you." He gripped your hips tighter, his thrusts harder, his pace more demanding. You arched your back, meeting his force with your own, unable to resist the urge to match him stroke for stroke.

His lips found your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin as he continued to thrust. You felt the pressure building inside you, the familiar tightness in your belly that signaled your impending release. You cried out, your body tensing as the sensation overwhelmed you.

"Yes, that's it," he groaned, feeling your body tensing around him. He slammed into you one final time, his cock throbbing as he came, filling the condom. You could feel him shudder above you, his weight bearing down on you as he rode out the wave of pleasure.

He collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His heavy breaths fanned your neck as he came down from his high. You lay there, feeling his weight, his warmth, his presence. You could feel the stickiness between your legs where he had been inside you, the residual ache of being filled. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. It had been four years since he'd been inside you, and the feeling was overwhelming in the best possible way.

You smiled to yourself, remembering how he used to tease you, make you moan. You could feel the heat in your cheeks as you recalled the way he would look at you with such desire, his eyes dark and intense. You traced your fingers over the skin where his had been, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. It was then that you realized something: despite all the pain and hurt that had come between you, there was still a connection there. A connection that went deeper than words or time.

You felt a pang in your heart as you thought about the years that had passed, the fights you'd had, the hurt you'd caused each other. But in this moment, with his weight bearing down on you, you couldn't help but feel hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other. Maybe you could rediscover the love and passion that had brought you together in the first place.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You could feel his lips move against your skin, his breath warm and steady. He kissed your shoulder, his lips soft against your skin. "I've missed you, you know," he murmured.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, you could see the vulnerability behind the familiar mask of strength. "I've missed you too," you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. "So much."

Taglist: @madzandmore @il0vet0mk4ulitz @20doozers

Requests are open! keep sending them in 💗

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah #tokiohotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n #evieskiesss #billskeis

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blueparadis · 1 year

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a concept:

tattoo artist kaeya having a thing for u, his regular client rosaria's cute little roommate, who is the exact opposite of her. he feels bad for touching himself to the thoughts of u but he can't help himself bc he likes u so much

❝ INKED SECRETS ❞ + KAEYA ALBERICH !

+. CWs —» tattoo artist au + modern au, f!reader, fluff, light angst with comfort, some canon elements, love at first sight, mention of cigarette smoking, bad relationships, hookups, stranger to lovers, smut ( fantasies, m-mastarbation ) ; word count — 2k.

+. NOTES —» thanks to my beloved yoru ( @anantaru) for helping me and beta reading this otherwise i would've opened the gates of kaeya-brainrot; also, thank you for being patient. This ask was almost a month old and I know this was supposed to be short but the thing is kaeya is the one who had me invested in genshin impact. However, surprisingly I've never thought of writing about him so thank you for your muse. I loved writing this so fucking much. Thank you. Tattoo artist kaeya shall live forever in my mind. If you wanna check more of my writings, click here.

Kaeya Alberich. The name of the mystery man who would always be the talk of the topic for Rosaria. He was more familiar to you than your roommate ever was. You two shared a room yet you could never read Rosaria but she was thorough with you; maybe that is why you two clicked. Every one of your friends considered it a mystery how a sunflower like you would ever survive in the company of a moon. Everyone including Kaeya. He had his own proportion of confusion every time Rosaria talked about you.

Kaeya knew how you looked, talked, and liked to eat ice cream in winter. Not only that, your favorite colors, bits and pieces of your small dreams were known to him. And all because Rosaria wouldn’t stop with the constant blabbering about you whenever he directly hung out with her, emphasizing the fact that you were nothing but an angel in disguise. Kaeya had to endure all of it, every bit of you that Rosaria seemed to find alluring. At moments like this, one could say that they exchanged personas since Kaeya was a guy of smiles and chitter-chatter while Rosaria was quite the opposite.

True, the friendship between Kaeya and Rosaria was another talk of Mondstadt’s inhabitants, but they both did not seem to react as people expected, as people thought they should. You would, barely, call them lovers. While Kaeya enjoyed different takes of his customers about Rosaria, she, on the other hand, brushed those petty rumors off, with just a glance keeping her stoic persona.

But, among all these happenings, Rosaria had the front-row seat of the chaos that was about to unfold. She had her beauty salon just above Kaeya’s tattoo parlor. They have been working together for at least five years. Rosaria had her shop on rental and the five-storied complex was owned by none other than Kaeya Alberich himself.

Anyone who wanted to go to her parlor had to cross Kaeya’s floor; hence, no one slipped past the grip of his galactic eyes. He knew the regulars of her shop and had an immense influence on them. He believed it was his charms while Rosaria begged to differ.

But she was just being professional, clearing non-financial tabs that she owed to him, for bringing the immense influx of customers to her salon. Sometimes, it worked both ways, but whenever they fought, the elders of the locality had more spice to flavor the rumors that had just started sedimenting.

January, the prime of winter, of snow and the freezing cold, Kaeya laid his first glance at you. Warm and alluring: you were every bit of beauty that Rosaria spoke of, in fact, now that he had finally seen you in person, he thinks Rosaria fell short of speaking of your angelic aura.

“Hello, I have a parcel for Rosaria, could you please deliver it to her? I would have done it myself if I wasn’t in such a hurry.”, you kept the package on my desk, “Thank you very much, Mister . . .”, you looked at his batch that reads Kaeya Alberich, “. . . Thank you so much, Mister Kaeya Alberich.” And before Kaeya could say anything back, you fled out of his sight like a bird.

He watched you get into a cab holding the package in his hand, barely registering what you asked him to do. His mind had drifted far off to all those times when Rosaria was talking about you. He checked his watch and smiled to himself. Oops! Rosaria’s smoke break was ruined since he joined in with the package you had left for her, with many questions.

For a tattoo artist, Kaeya seemed the least bit invested in its antics, yet he had a steady influx of customers, mostly because he is very professional and dedicated to his livelihood. He pays special attention to his regular customers, sadly, you weren’t one of them, not yet.

Still, he would stand and smoke at the corner of the entrance so that he could watch you go like the wind to meet your roommate with a package in hand. He would notice the color of your dress, the matching nails, shoes, and every little detail thinking how flawlessly sexy you looked.

But he abruptly stopped the second he had bruised his fingers with the cigarette burn. Fortunately, it was his left hand but with his line of work, he needed both.

Today, during the lunch break when Rosaria told him that y/n wanted to have a tattoo, his blood rushed to his cheeks and ears. He did not think you’d be interested in tattoos or piercings. He definitely did not see the next blow coming. “Yep. sure.”, he supplied, coughing back the lump in his throat. Of all the parlors you could choose you had to choose his. What in the lord’s fuck was going on?

The day came faster, faster than he had anticipated. Needless to say, it did not go like he thought it would. It was safe to say he was more nervous than you were. “Are you sure about this?”, “Ya’know it’s gonna hurt, right?”, “Should I use some anesthetic on the area?” His questions wouldn’t stop and you were trying your best to stay as patient as possible It is true, part of him was nervous but another wanted to spend and enjoy some time with you.

“And done!”, Kaeya playfully mused as he wiped over the work of ink, careful enough not to accidentally graze his fingers over your inner thigh but of course, he did want to.“y/n” he spoke, his tone low but clear enough for you to hear, “so, how many tattoos do you have now?” Kaeya shifted in his chair as he intently watched you normalize your heightened breathing

“Didn’t you keep count?”,

“nine”, he said, letting out a breathless laugh. “which means you dumped your ninth partner.” and he was not wrong. Of all the regular customers he had, you were his favorite because you had an amusing story to tell whenever you had visited his parlor. He would listen to you the moment he was finished with his handiwork.

But this one in particular, was quite a different story. You never told nor was he allowed to ask about the guy you dumped, ever. Part of him wanted to console you, and tell you that good things take time but another part of him was too afraid to lose you, realizing it was unprofessional of him to offer any form of painkiller against a situation like that. Because on any other occasion, his usual customers weren’t as chatty as you were.

He never thought of a case where it might be the opposite. With that, he thought that you, of all people, being dumped by someone was utterly ridiculous, because who wouldn't want to date someone like you? He knows he would, after all, and if he could, he would make sure the ninth tattoo is to be the last tattoo on your body.

“What about you?”, you asked, swinging your legs in the air while sitting on the bed. “For a tattoo artist, you are awfully blank.”

“It’s somewhere. . .”, he started, “wait I’ll rather show you . . .”. and when you, in a sliding second, unexpectedly flashed him, his hands immediately found their way crawling at the hem of his turtle-neck.

“Wait. wait. Wait. stop. Just stop.” kaeya panicked as you partly opened your eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest while your eyebrows jumped and stayed intact for seconds. Pin-drop silence and then both of you simultaneously laughed. Some might think it’s corny, and maybe you did as well but it doesn’t matter, what matters is that you were smiling right now.

That’s good. That’s really good.

Kaeya checked his watch as you left his place to run upstairs, checking to see if Rosaria was done with her chores; after all, she was almost approaching the closing hour of her shop so she should’ve been done by the time you had arrived at her place. Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes before you and Rosaria would come out of the elevator to go home; maybe he could if he’d finally stop thinking about it in such an unhealthy calculative manner.

Yet, well, there was just one problem. His ears felt hot, his mind was restless and he couldn't focus on a single task. Generally, it took ten minutes to close his shop and he does it every day, all alone so if not his mind, his muscle memory should be functioning properly. But all he desired to do was to touch himself and relieve himself from the agony of months boiling in his core.

June, the prime time of summer and ice cream. Kaeya slides his right arm under his vest while grazing his lower belly, eagerly thinking of the last time, but eventually, his arm ends up slipping into his pants, his fingers clamping around his length, and finally, a soft groan escapes from his mouth. The tip of his tongue kisses the corner of his lips as he takes out his cock which was coated with warm white fluid, at the tip pre-cum.

For a moment, he is surprised, and then he suddenly is not. There is a crescent formed along his lips as he taps the tip of his cock, smearing the reddened end with its pre. “Oh fuck. This feels so much better.”, he groans, mumbling to himself, thinking why he didn’t do this way sooner.

He palms his member, a little harder, this time trying to imagine how it would feel to be sheathed by your gummy walls. He started to pump his cock as his pants slipped, now clustered at the bottom of the chair while his legs were trying to give as much space as possible by spreading them further apart.

With half-lidded eyes, he checks if you had locked the door before leaving or not. You did not and the thought of you walking onto him turned him so bad that he thought he might cum right away.

The moment he closes his eyes he could see you, your calloused fingers around his cock and now he is pumping his cock rashly, the hem of his vest being buried in between his teeth, muffled moans escaping his mouth as the squelching noises had gotten louder and louder.

His other hand gradually made its way towards his nipples, pinching and circling around them thinking of your lips instead. “Oh fuck.”, he hisses as his toes curl, his hips bucked up with a force as he thinks of how euphoric it would be to have your soft lips wrapped around his cock, to have your puffy lips on his, to have your boobs tightly pressed against his bare chest, pronounced nipples grazing against each other while Kaeya’s cock is hitting your sweet spot with precision, blessing his ears with the prettiest desperate moans from you.

He squeezes his eyes shut as his hands move up and down his swollen cock, hitting his girth with calculated thrusts. He paces up as he feels his orgasm approaching, huffing and panting, not caring how vocal he has become until the coil at the core of his flat belly snaps, making him dizzy, his hand movements sloppy, and his inner thighs gradually closing, relishing in the high he had just experienced.

Kaeya’s chest rises up and down frantically as he finally opens his eyes, watching the spurs of milky white fluid all over the floor and his study desk. A heavy sigh leaves his body as his breathing normalizes. “Fuck . . .”, he mumbles throwing back his head before closing his eyes and thinking of you, again. He takes a few deep breaths to relax before cleaning the mess.

Yet, when he suddenly heard the footsteps, his heart sank. He regrets touching himself while thinking of you, he regrets not saving himself for you, he regrets chasing love so fast, so insanely that he almost lost his hope for finding the one.

“Hey Kae-ya, you done?”, you asked, opening the door, “Rosa is gonna be late today. So, I’ll stay and help her. I’m going out to buy some food, you wanna come with me?” You let your exhausted body lean against the door frame while Kaeya remained silent.

It just made him crazy how blatantly you ignored him, his magnetic affection for you, and the truth was, he cannot even blame you for that. He has always enjoyed this feeling, to like you in secrecy. The more you are unaware of his emotions, the greater chance he has to be around you. Kaeya does not ask for much, just a few more days till he musters up enough courage to finally ask you out.

—

@tokyometronetwork

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