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leclerc-hs · 2 months

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it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

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THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice.

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke.

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck.

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?”

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?”

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house.

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door.

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary.

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment. At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep.

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly.

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.”

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?”

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you.

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush.

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you.

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you.

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot

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anantaru · 2 months

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ayato + a soul sucking blowjob

synopsis. ayato was tired, fatigued and frustrated. arriving home from work shortly after to get finally spoiled by you <3

cw. oral (male! receiving), flustered ayato, fem! reader

you can easily discern certain noises in your place, or specific emotions you feel when you hear them. serving as an illustration— look at when the quick chime of the door being unlocked sparks over your eardrums. what's more, you remember that it's like an unwinding lullaby to you, when ayato lastly arrives home after a long day at work.

the high-priced material of his shoes made a rhythmic click as he walked, which then echoed through the living room when the yashiro commissioner crossed the dinner table to walk towards the couch— nothing else in his mind other than the cloying anticipation to feel you in his arms.

each footfall was unevenly separated from the last and clearly indicating fatigue, no rhythm in them at all. you note that your boyfriend must be utterly tired from his long day, quite spent as he ultimately reaches over to greet you before adjusting his pants to sit down.

"how was your day?" you kindly ask, your smile rumbling with a welcoming affection as you place one hand on top of his muscular thigh, "everything ran smoothly... not to worry," the man assures you after a moment of hesitation.

if there was something entirely true about kamisato ayato— it's that his honesty towards his beloved would only include the details he deemed for you to be okay to know. you were aware of that and really didn't mind, although sometimes you wished you could smooth over the secrets he's forced to carry with himself and make it a little easier.

chewing briefly on his lower lip, ayato searches for your trace, his hands slowly slipping between your legs to rub over the inside of your thigh as he gently exhales through his parted mouth, the clouded sight on his face accentuating his immense attractiveness.

"you look tired, baby," you note, squeezing his thigh, a sensual chime melting on the tip of your tongue when you move as slowly as the petals of a flower opening, silently kissing his cheek before pointing towards the obvious tent in his trousers.

"or… do you want me to take care of this?"

"you— you mustn't trouble yourself with it, i—," ayato ponders out loud, glancing awkwardly to everywhere but your face.

he didn't even realize that he's gotten a little too excited to see you tonight. this hasn't happened in ages and only served as an additional indicator that there was more to the frustration inside of him than he originally let on.

swiftly, and with a touch of silk, you unravel every sharp edge of his strong bravado— and the tension rises beneath the layers of garments he wore, a slight hue of embarrassment catching onto his pale skin.

"i'm just so happy to finally see you, 'cannot control it, i apologize."

his pure admittance coupled with his flustered expressions burns into your heart like liquid gold as he laps over his lips softly when you smile back at him, ready to worship him as if you're born to savor this hallowed moment.

"don't apologize," you remind him, and in the split second that your hand feels over his bulge, every nerve in his body and brain was electrified— as the motion of your palm spoke of a movement coupled perfectly to itself, confident, focused and reverent, "i missed you too."

unhurriedly, you get yourself off the couch before settling in between his thighs, your hands coaxing out a shaky groan from him as you slid them over his legs before hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants, freeing him shortly after. at the feeling of his bulging erection being met with the cold air of the room, ayato whimpers, yet what actually made him lose his mind was when you took him in your hand, his glossed pre glazing over your knuckles and sending him into a heady trance.

he feels how his balls were tightening when you slant your lips forward to spit on his cock, his body starting to ready itself for your warm, wet mouth before you're slowly dragging your tongue over the slit, the feeling of ecstasy coming through him in a controlled wave of pleasure.

in this moment, ayato feels like all the relief in his life settled in his stomach and his worries died down, all the times he had dreamt of you the entire day when he was supposed to be actually focusing on work— not the memories of last night where he had you draped over the mattress, stuffed entirely with his cum. the memories of the night still left him in a tremble, and how utterly beautiful you looked claimed in such lewd manner.

your hand wraps around the base tight enough to heighten the feeling of pressure and bliss on him, a choked rumble coming from above you as ayato covers his face with one arm while the other settles on your head. your hand firmly palms around the base of his erection as you began to gave his tip a tentative lick, never focusing less on how he was reacting to you.

the more inches you decided to swallow, the more you cam into contact with a rich, masculine musk permeating on your tongue at the first taste of him— ugh, ayato tasted so good, and he always took such good care of himself that you cannot help yourself but rub your thighs together, hoping it's enough to pleasure yourself on your own.

to make him further lose his mind, you know what you had to do and proceeded to sweep your tongue across the head several more times until his eyes would turn bloodshot from the little droplets of tears hovering on his pretty lashes.

oh well, he must be so tired, fatigued and frustrated. at the same time, suffusing into the loss of his mind and the hotness of your lips softly pressing into his shaft.

he cannot wait until you take him in your mouth.

which then, naturally you did, yet slow, encouraged by the addictive taste of him filling your senses as you take more of his length into your mouth. you bob your head up and down, the heavy tip of his erection nudging in the back of your throat as you let him guide you up and down with his hand, working the first couple inches of his dripping dick against your tongue until you hit your limit.

for what you couldn't gather inside your wetness, you let your hand make up for the rest, finding a comforting pace as ayato grew so absorbed in watching you please him, it's almost as tasteful as feeling it in the first place.

just how obediently you let him feel around your mouth as his fingers slide through your hair— he hopes he manages to turn you soaked by the end of it, so he mustn't prepare you any further and can sink himself inside of you much quicker.

you lift your eyes to meet his delirious half-gaze before you hollow your cheeks, pulling back with a soft popping sound and a faint rush of adrenaline.

"you enjoying yourself?" you coo devilishly, then cock an eyebrow that destroyed all its softness within your triumphant gaze, "very much so," he smirks back.

boldly, he hides between the beautiful implications of a clouded expression hovering all over his facial features, when in reality, ayato has already planned out the entire night for you two.

#genshin x reader #genshin Impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #ayato x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

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loveemagicpeace · 4 months

Text

🎈Jupiter & Your Spouse🎱

🎈Jupiter is the planet that indicates what characteristics your husband/wife will have. Which zodiac sign can it be and where can you meet the person.🎈

❤️‍🔥Jupiter in the 1st house - your spouse can be fiery, independent, intense, daring, fearless. Can have a lot of energy and can also invest a lot in things he is passionate about. It gives a lot to the appearance. A person's energy and expression can mean a lot to him. A spouse may like someone who is fearless or a risk-taker himself. Having Jupiter in the first house indicates that the right partner can help you discover your true self and bring out your best qualities. They expand your sense of self and can make you feel very self-assured. You can meet your spouse at an event, sporting event, competition or somewhere related to you. You can just when you go outside the comfort zone.

🤎Jupiter in 2nd house- your spouse can be stable, materialistic, stubborn, likes comfort, luxury, money. Can spends a lot on food, movies, music and above all enjoyment. Determined and fixed. Your partner will be vocal about their beliefs and seek a partner who shares their perspective. You can meet a spouse at the bank, at a concert, in the cinema, or at a hotel. You could also meet them out in public while indulging in your favorite things.

🧪 Jupiter in 3rd house - your spouse can be communicative, talkative, intelligent, quick to respond, rational, likes many different things and topics. Spouse can put a lot on communication and the mind. He could be younger than you. This gives you good and understanding partners, and they will support you in every phase. You also tend to attract overly complicated relationships that can cause you a headache. Jupiter in the third house shows you might fall in love with someone you grew up with, like a classmate from school, a neighbor, or a family friend. You can meet a spouse through siblings, relatives, at school, quizzes, social games, it can also be your neighbor, roommate.

⛵️Jupiter in 4th house- your spouse can be caring, compassionate, emotional, can help you and is always there for you. A person who values privacy and likes to be at home or in the comfort zone. A person who gives a lot to family and home. Can be very protective and tough. Sometimes also capricious. You can meet them through your mother, close people, at a house party, in your home environment, somewhere near where you live, dinner party or out walking your dog or housewarming hosted by friends.

🎡Jupiter in the 5th house - your spouse can be proud, playful, strong, always carry an inner child, loud, fun, romantic. He gives a lot to hobbies, fun, socializing. He likes things that are light and pleasant. Can be warm, confident, determined, generous and also selfish. It indicates that your future spouse will be the center of attention, an outgoing person who is widely known. You can meet them at some activities, casino, can also be love at first sight, at the summer time, out on the town, whether dancing, singing karaoke, or exploring a new city with your friends.

🖼️Jupiter in the 6th house - your spouse is caring, takes care of health, can be a perfectionist, sees details, hardworking, organized, critical. It gives a lot to lifestyle and movement. He knows what he wants out of life. He might seem particular to some, but he's just the right brand of neurotic for you. You can meet them at work, in your everyday life (for example, in a store, pharmacy, physical exercises, fitness center), at the doctor's.

🧸Jupiter in the 7th house - your spouse is romantic, harmonious, fair, balanced. A spouse can give a lot of peace and attitude around him. The spouse can be harmonious, beautiful and like orderliness and beauty from the outside and from the inside. He knows how to see the beauty in everything. Marriage is important to him. You can meet them at a beauty competition, through friends, you can also through your ex, in court.

🦋Jupiter in the 8th house - your spouse can be intense, mysterious, deep, persistent, obsessive, self-sacrificing. Does everything for the people he loves. A spouse can give a lot on privacy, secrets, sharing things with another person. It may be important for them to share everything with you. You can meet them in the financial administration, deeper places, secret places, intimate places, can also be your psychologist or meet them there. You may meet them at a spiritual retreat, religious gathering, or group event where you can meet like-minded individuals.

🪂Jupiter in the 9th house - your spouse can be optimistic, happy, religious, even from another country, adventurous, open, direct, passionate. It can have a lot of life in it. Live in the moment and for the moment. A spouse can give a lot to education, novelty, innovation. Can always support you in everything you do. You can meet them on a trip, adventure parks, church, at someone's wedding, university, lecture.

🎱Jupiter in the 10th house - your spouse can be determined, strong, powerful, serious, responsible, older, more mature, hard-working. It can be someone who is recognizable and a public figure. Jupiter here make spouses more responsible and loving. They just aren't dominant or commanding by nature. On the flip side, no matter what transpires in their lives, these gentlemen will always encourage and believe in their spouses. You can meet them in a public place, public institutions, through parents, father or grandfather.

🪁Jupiter in the 11th house - your spouse is unique, different, dreamy. He always has a set goal and vision. A free person who gives a lot to independence. Can be a person who is sociable or can be a loner. Very smart and intelligent. Can also be famous on social networks. Different from the others. Someone who is smart and intelligent and know all about social media and can also be a logical person who think with logical mind. They may be your best friend. You can meet them through friends, social networks, lonely places, can also be in unpredictable way.

🛼Jupiter in the 12th house - your spouse can be spiritual, dreamy, emotional, compassionate, kind. A person who gives a lot to dreams and fantasy. A person who care for others. Can also be very artistic person. Here it is necessary to make sure that the person is not manipulative or addicted to drugs. The image of a person sometimes is not the way they present themselves at first. you can actually find out all of things about them later. So it's important that you get to know the person. You can meet them at a dance, art club, gallery, hospital, prison.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🫧🦋🛼

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrological houses #birth chart #jupiter #future spouse

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tteokdoroki · 10 months

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bkg jerking off over you while you sit there and look pretty🫶🏾

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. expressive.

about. bakugou never gets good at controlling how his emotions sit on his face — especially when he’s close to a well earned release.

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact! smut, vaginal sex, squirting, pulling out as a contraceptive method (don’t do this), male masturbation, cumplay, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, slight overstimulation, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

i imagine that bakugou never really gets good at controlling his facial expressions. usually, it’s super easy to tell when he’s pissed, because he has his fangs bared and his thick, dark eyebrows pinch together at the centre of his forehead. when he’s sad, he’s either unconsciously frowning or pouting — which isn’t an uncommon sight if you think about it. when he’s happy or calm, there’s a light that reflects in his ruby framed eyes to the point where they shine across a room, his soft lips upturned into a small smirk with not a trace of doubt laid across his face.

you think, however, that katsuki is most beautiful when his body is hung over yours and he’s about to cum.

“you cummin’ baby? y’ gonna make a mess on my cock. milk your cock f’me?” you love how strained the blonde’s voice gets when he’s close, caught in the ridges of this throat and pierced by the occasional high pitched whine here and there. katsuki always makes sure that you get there before him, fumbling with your swollen clit nestled between your soaked puffy folds — using the tips of his fingers to catch whatever viscous track of juices slips out of you and around his throbbing girth before he rubs it back into the little nub.

the air feels like it been sucked out from his lungs when your wet pussy selfishly sucks him in, clenching down on every ridge as if she doesn’t want to let go. your eyes disappear into the darkness of your skull, mouth lewdly hanging open wide enough for bakugou to spit into it. he immediately licks into your mouth afterwards, languidly rolling his hips into you with vicious wet smacks to the same tune.

he roughs you up with spit swapping kisses, hardly giving you any room to breathe. you cry and gasp into bakugou’s open mouth, sucking on his tongue and filling him with your salacious siren’s song that only gets higher and higher with each step you take towards orgasm. he follows each movement of your mouth like he’s after the pied piper, chasing the heat of your tongue against his while his rough hands work you into a mating press — legs thrown over his shoulder and cock so deep inside you, you can practically feel him in your throat.

his lips feel like heaven, pillowy and plush as they move with yours expertly, knowing just how to kiss you — eliciting a bright fire in your lower tummy that sets you ablaze from the inside out. squeezing around every blue, pulsating vein that twists its way around bakugou’s fat, milky shaft, you take what your given and squealing as it hammers into your g-spot over and over and over again until your mind blanks he’s claimed rule over your every thought like a barbarian fighting over land.

“k-kats! daddy — ‘m gonna,” you drool the words across his open mouth like an erotic flash flood, your sanity dwindling into nothing and your resolve crumbling — he works into your sopping heat, stretching you open, pounding away at that embarrassingly creamy cunt, just brushing at your cervix. poor you, you can’t help but sob at the unruly rhythm, your mount licking and unlocking to accommodate for the curve of katsuki’s dick that fills you up just right.

it’s not long before your body fails you, and you’re cumming right then and there. white flashes behind your eyes and drowns out your vision, a scream of your lover’s name loudly rips through you while your release trickles out of you unexpectedly.

“shit, that’s it. all over me, all fuckin’ over me.” bakugou punctuates each of his breathless words with a sharp thrust into the depths of your squelching insides, watching the way you gush and stream around him and onto the bec with a hung jaw and drool seeping out of the corners of his mouth. once you’re spent and fucked beyond, he pulls out slowly — both of you mewling at the cool air on your hot and raw sexes.

now, you both know that pulling out isn’t an effective method of contraception — but you’re both young and dumb and kid on believe in fate. but it doesn’t make it any less hot when katsuki pumps his dick over you to get off.

your boyfriend wastes no time in grabbing hold of his cock — sticky and glazed in everything you had to offer him, dripping with precum that helps guide the slick movements of his palm along his pretty shaft. you’re so pretty, covered in love bites and sweat and cum, lying there with big dizzy doe eyes — of course it’s going to rile him up. katsuki fucks his fist with an insatiable wanton, squeezing the base where you’ve left a foamy ring if your cream on him, to stave off his orgasm just so he can look at you a little longer.

“show me your pussy baby, wanna see how much i’ve ruined you.” he heaves through the fog of desire carried in the vibrato. it shakes when you peel your doughy thighs apart — stuck together by clear ropes of your gooey release

“i want you to cum for me, baby.”

bakugou presses his nose into your shin, a light blush dusting the bridge of it along with his cheeks. “i know, sweetness. ‘m gonna — fuck. g-gonna give it to you.” he stutters out, running a thumb through the seedy slit of his cockhead. you feel like you could cum again just from watching bakugou get off to the vision of you — his lips drag along your inner shin as well causing warm breath to coast along your salt-licked skin until you’re shivering through your aftershocks in anticipation. so you dip your fingers between your legs to spread your ravaged folds, circling your abused hole to give him a good look at the damage he’s done to you.

“please katsuki,” you gasp, teasing him just a little by playing with yourself to the same pace that bakugou jerks off with .

the blonde chokes back a pathetic sob, letting go of his achingly hot and heavy dick to let it thud against his tummy. he’s always been blessed, the sight of katsuki’s length is mouthwatering enough as it is — but seeing it bright red and shining under the yellow light, covered in a thin layer of white to show how turned on he is, is reward enough for you.

he’s so wet and heavy, oozing at every opportunity he gets — smearing a trail of precum along his manuka honey skin. “you drive me fuckin’ insane, my baby’s tryna kill me,” bakugou slurs over the drool collecting in his mouth, spitting down onto himself which only adds to the lewdness of the situation. “wheredya want it, hah?” dewy sounds of bakugou fucking his own, soiled palm mask his shaky breath, his hips ramming forward and never letting up on their urgent rhythm. “you want me to paint that pussy, white?” leaning forward, he taps his red-hot tip against your overstimulated sex — nearly busting.

“you like that? so fuckin’ naughty, maybe you wanna get all knocked up ‘n filled up by me,” he goads, pressing his cock head against your entrance before going back to jerking off — bat the way your whole body joints from the idea of ‘accidentally’ being bred.

“or do you want me to fuck that angel mouth of yours, get a taste of me?” he speeds up, chasing that innate desire to cum, throwing his head back while a needy groan escapes from the cage in his chest. “m-maybe i should cum on those pretty tits, maybe your face. show you how much i love you. how would you like that, baby?”

his sinful suggestions lull a weak moan out of you as you rut upward, letting katsuki push his slick cock through the remainders of your release still trapped between your folds. shaking hips, you hear the blonde hiss at your warmth around him while he pumps himself harder and faster, losing pieces of himself to you. leaking all over you.

“let me have it, katsuki. cum for me, wherever you want.” you command him wistfully, following through when his colourful curses turn to airy and dreamy moans — hot spurts of viscous seed shooting from his tip over your quivering mound and soft tummy, claiming your body as katsuki’s prize. you’re in love with the way his face twists, his crimson eyes wet enough to reflect their colour like a kaleidoscope, his pink lips bitten until cherry red and wet with his own tears and sweat, his soft blonde hair matted to the sweat that pearls against his forehead.

katsuki looks like an angel when he cums.

“fuckin’… holy shit, i fuckin’ love you so much.” bakugou cries as he cums, collapsing over you smaller-than-his frame as the aftershocks wrack through him. you push your fingers through his sweaty locks to bring him back down, soothing the static ringing in his ears as the rest of his orgasm smears against your inner thigh. “y’so pretty baby, jus’ go fuckin’ insane watchin’ you cum hard f’me like that.” he breathes, lashes fluttering against your neck.

kissing the side of his head, you hum in content. “i could say the same about you, lover boy.” pushing at his muscular shoulder, you giggle. “now let’s get cleaned up, unless you were serious about getting me knocked up.”

“s-shit,” laughing rasping, bakugou rolls off of you and nestles himself into your side. “don’t say shit like that. you already got me so fucked up.”

“you and i both know we could go again, hot shot.” you grin as bright as ever — tempting your boyfriend into another round. “best two out of three?”

“i fuckin’ love you,”

“i love you too.”

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bookishdreamer28 · 5 months

Text

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Mattheo opened the door slowly, trying not to make loud noises. As he walked in his room, his eyes fell on your sleeping figure peaking under the covers and he felt his body instantly relax. The reason why he has been so upset lately is because he had these really awful nightmares about you, nightmares that made him scared and had made him spend most nights staying awake, while watching over you as if he was afraid that you might actually disappear.

He took his clothes off and strolled to the bathroom. Once he was done from there, he headed to bed, wanting desperately to hold you. Once he got under the covers he gently wrapped his arm around you and brought your body against his. He leaned in to take a look at your face and when he saw the cute sleepy face of yours, he gently smiled, his heart beating rapidly at the sight of you.

He was about to lay back on his pillow, but then he felt your body stirring and he moved closer, afraid that you were having a nightmare. But then you slowly opened these gorgeous eyes of yours, and he hugged you, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Hey sweet gir" he whispered and you turned to the side, smiling beamingly at him. You wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his scent which brought you comfort and warmth.

"Is everything all right? I noticed how upsetyou seem lately" your hand cupped the side of his face and he leaned in your paml, in need to fell your skin.

Dont worry sweetheart everything's ok" he kissed your forehead and held you closer to him. In all these times, the day that haunted him the most was the fay he almost lost you. He had never utter a word about how he feels scared of losing or how these nightmares tormented his soul. He wanted you to not worry about him.

"I know you're hiding things from me Mattheo" And he knew you were about to be serious since you called him by his name.

"You need to talk to me. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to hide things just because you don't want me to worry about you. I'll always worry. And it's not my job. It's because I love you" you whispered and you could see how his eyes became glassy, trying to hold his tears back.

"Express yourself the way you feel and want to Mattheo. You should've known by now that I'm here for you no matter what" after that he instantly laid his head on your shoulder and you silently played with his hair.

His released a shaky breath and his hild became a bit tighter around you.

"I love you, I love you so much" you heard his voice shaking with emotion and you turned your head to kiss his head.

"I just don't ever want to lose you. In all my life, I had only known darkness. Nothing good or pure surrounded me but that changed when you came into my life. You know how dangerous it is to be with me and trust me, there were times I thought I should push you away for your own safety, but my love for you grew day by day, with every smile of yours, every laugh, every touch." he slowly sat up to look in your eyes.

His fingers traced your cheek softly as he slowly moved closer to you, pressing a kiss to your lips. The kiss was full of unsaid feelings and strong emotions, the desperation in his movements as he cradled your face to deepen ths kiss, made your stomach flip.

When you both pulled away, he laid his head back on his pillows and circled his right hand around you, bringing you close so you can rest your head on his chest. You looked up at him and said:

"I'll always be here for you love, always" you whispered and he smiled at your fondness in your voice. He kissed you once more and held you tight.

Having you right here in his arms, was the greatest gift he could ever have, especially after he experienced great loses in his life. You were everything he could've ever asked for and even though at first he didn't want to be around you because you made him feel things he had never felt before, he doesn't regret a single thing. As long you're here with him, nothing can make him live in fear anymore.

----

I've been crushing over many fictional men lately and one of them is Mattheo 🙌 I thought about writing a mix of a bit of everything, sooo I hope you enjoyed reading it ✨

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mysticworks · 27 days

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One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader

Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings

S Y N O P S I S:

Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k

[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]

A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.

Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.

It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness.

Then every memory from last night came tumbling through.

After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances.

You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.

And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window.

The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his...

You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.

Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.

You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings?

“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you.

Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his.

This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.

“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.

“Sorry?”

“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”

You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ”

He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”

He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.

It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you saying we can't date?”

You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath.

He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently.

You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.

It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide.

Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you.

One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare.

“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind.

“Here. It’s cold out.”

He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it.

You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.

And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.

----------------------

You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way.

You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over.

Over before it had even begun.

Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando.

You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move.

It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings.

Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice.

Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away.

That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.

At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak.

Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.

-------------------

The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle.

Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.

Perhaps you were running away.

Perhaps this was your revenge.

Your resignation made sure he’d never know.

L A N D O 'S P O V:

They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.

I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.

I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away.

It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.

I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.

And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.

Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance.

There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile.

He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over.

“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.

Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient.

He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place.

“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”

The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.

My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.

They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.

It was over.

I was one day too late.

Taglist: @hc-dutch @racinggirl @aileeincomplexity @kravitzwhore @eringaitskill @adoreyou-ido @landoslutmeout @queenofmanydreams

#ln4 #ln4 ang #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 angst #formula one angst #formula 1 angst #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #f1 angst

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doumadono · 6 months

Text

Genshin men in heat - headcanons

Warnings: fem!reader, smut A/N: this little thing was written for my one and only @crystalwolfblog

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

Zhongli

During his heat, Zhongli becomes especially attentive to you, showering you with affectionate gestures and heartfelt compliments.

Zhongli has a particular fondness for handholding, finding comfort and solace in the simple yet profound act of physical connection.

During moments of intimacy, Zhongli shows a fondness for traditional Liyuean music, creating a soothing atmosphere that enhances the connection between him and you.

Zhongli takes delight in exploring sensory experiences, introducing scented oils and candles during intimate moments to heighten the atmosphere; he loves giving you a back massage when he's slowly fucking your pussy doggy style with your body pressed into the mattress.

He reigns supreme when it comes to overstimulation. Simple as that.

He's about to eat your pussy out to the point where your clit is swollen and too sensitive, leaving you desperately attempting to guide his head away, but his firm grip ensures your hands remain under his control. "No chance, babygirl. Let me savor every bit of this delicious feast."

He'll ever so delicately give your ass a playful smack while fucking you from behind, skillfully massaging the soft fat of your buttocks after.

"In the vastness of Liyue, you are my most precious treasure."

Neuvilette

Neuvilette's heat brings out his gentle side. He becomes more verbally expressive, whispering sweet nothings and words of comfort.

His playfulness peaks, and he engages in lighthearted activities to lift the mood and make you smile.

He expresses his love through touch, with a preference for soft caresses and gentle kisses, creating a tender, nurturing atmosphere.

Neuvilette enjoys intertwining fingers during moments of intimacy, when his cock is buried deep in your pussy.

He takes pleasure in exploring your sex, using either his skilled tongue or fingers. Whatever brings you joy is exactly what he's focused on doing.

The Iudex revels in the sensation of you mounting him in his alcove. In this intimate space, he willingly relinquishes control, viewing it as a welcome escape from his daily duties. With a firm grip on your hips, he skillfully guides their movement, his gaze irresistibly drawn to the smooth rhythm of your breasts gently bouncing as you ride his cock, moaning his name.

"In your arms, I've found a sanctuary where I can be myself without fear or judgment."

Wriothesley

Despite his usual reserved demeanor, Wriothesley becomes more openly affectionate during his heat, craving physical closeness.

He expresses his emotions through carefully chosen words and actions, making sure you know you're cherished.

Wriothesley enjoys quiet evenings, reading poetry or sharing stories, creating a deeper emotional connection with his loved one.

In his alcove, Wriothesley turns into a fierce lover - he's determined to ensure your pleasure doesn't stop at just one or two climaxes, but unfolds in a series of multiple peaks.

He excels in the art of overstimulation, akin to Zhongli's expertise. He's committed to going above and beyond your limits to elicit involuntary tremors in your legs when he's fucking your cunny.

"Your lips hold the poetry that words fail to express. Let our kisses write the verses of our love," amidst the forceful thrusts, he's about to murmur gently in your ear before kissing your lips passionately.

Wriothesley won't shy away from taking immense pleasure in finishing inside you, relishing the sight of your mixed essences as they gracefully ooze from your pussy and drip down on the sheets.

Itto

Itto's energetic personality during his heat translates into playful and adventurous dates, from spontaneous outings to exciting challenges.

He showers you with compliments.

Itto's protective instincts heighten, making him more attuned to your needs and ensuring your well-being above all else.

Itto's love language involves physical touch, and he finds joy in affectionate gestures, like playful nudges and warm embraces, to express his deep connection.

Itto has a knack for combining laughter and passion, creating an atmosphere where the boundaries between playfulness and intimacy blur; like when in the missionary position, he leans in to kiss you, and strands of his hair gracefully cascade into your mouth. You shake your head, attempting to free the strands, all the while sharing a laughter-filled exchange, finding joy in the unexpected yet amusing situation.

He has a preference for fast sex, and he'll fervently fuck himself in your pussy without reservation, rolling his head back at times.

He dearly enjoys when you give him head, and he's going to beg for it with fervor, like a desperate bitch. "Please, baby, I need your beautiful mouth around my dick."

"Oh shit, babygirl, you feel so good, fuck! It feels so good to be inside your tight pussy."

Itto is committed to exploring every conceivable position with you; he thrives on discovering new experiences and broadening his horizons.

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ervotica · 6 months

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the ones we love (will destroy us)

pairing; aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

tags; twincest (lol i'm sorry yk what the targaryens are like), aegon is so sad and babygirl and an idiot, hurt/comfort

note; heavily reworked repost of an old fic that i adored writing but needed a lot of editing! (i still lowkey hate it tho)

“Why is Aegon staring at you?” Aemond asks, a cruel smirk cracking his perpetually stoic facade; the's mocking in the way his gaze falls between you and Aegon, not entirely genuine as he takes amusement in his older brother’s miserable pining. Aegon watches your discussion with Aemond, sour faced from across the dining table. You’ve taken it upon yourself to sit as far away from him as you can manage; and where you’re usually attached at the hip - though he knows you’re arguing - he can’t deny the ache in his chest from your lack of acknowledgement. You're cold, unflinching as you stare right through him as though he's irrelevant, as though he's worth nothing to you.

“Because he’s a twat,” you answer bluntly. Aemond barks out a short laugh, coarse and harsh, that penetrates the quiet chatter of the room. Heads start to turn towards your avid conversing with your younger brother.

“What are you two bickering about now?”

“If he thinks it’s funny to to speak ill of me to everyone in the seven fucking kingdoms, I don't want anything to do with him.” Your lips purse as you cross your arms; Alicent eyes you, watching the tick of your jaw and flare of your nostrils - you’re upset, even if you’re excellent at masking it.

Aemond watches on amusedly as your twin grows increasingly agitated the more you pointedly avoid his glances. Your mother frowns.

“Y/n, don’t you feel you’re perhaps being a little hard on Aegon?”

“No.”

“He's your twin brother!” she sighs, ever frustrated by your stubbornness and your twin’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings, even yours at times.

“He’s still a twat.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes.

You continue to only speak about him indirectly. When you turn to Jace, he grins.

“Jace,” you start, clasping your hands where they lay on the dining table in front of you, “If someone said that you were ‘an ugly whore with no friends’ - as he so eloquently put it - would you be upset?”

“He said that?” Jace's jaw falls slack. “Wait, no. He honestly said that about you?”

The table clatters, cutlery bouncing, and Aegon stands abruptly, face screwed up in that way it does when he’s about to cry.

“It wasn’t like that!”

“How else could you possibly have meant it?” You’re incredulous, covering your misery with spiteful words. You want to make him hurt, make him feel your pain, but run to him for comfort all at once.

“Not-”

“Gods, just be quiet,” you mutter. Your face is hot as you turn away and you feel your eyes prickling with the threat of an onslaught of tears. Aegon cringes, drawn tight and tense as though you share one body, as though he can feel the pain he’s putting you through. Your upset has always caused him real physical distress, from when you were tiny children and still to this day. Your voice lowers to a whisper. “You’re so mean.”

“Y/n-“

You’ve never seen him quite this distressed; his cheeks flush pink and ruddy and his eyes start to water and gloss over, not dissimilar to your own expression - though you’re much better at concealing your emotions. His nostrils flare the way they only do when he cries: the way they did when he sobbed in your arms for hours after your mother rejected his pleas for affection once again, the way he cried when you were ten years old and your father interrupted him every time he tried to speak. Your bottom lip trembles.

“Please,” he croaks. Your brows knit and crease your forehead as your chest tightens; you bite the inside of your cheek with such force that you draw blood.

You stand and the solid wooden dining chair thumps against the floor. Aegon mirrors your movements, rushing towards the exit in your wake.

Once you’ve left the presence of your family, the tears come hard and fast and unrelenting. They’re hot against your cheeks, damp as your hands shake to scrub them away, leaving only a tender sting and blooming heat in your touch’s wake.

“Please talk to me.” The door creaks shut and then Aegon’s voice cuts through the sounds of your sniffles; you spin on your heel and he surges towards you in a bout of energy, clasping one of your hands in both of his larger ones. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, it was mean. And you should be angry with me. I miss you and I love you and I'll never, ever speak a cruel word against you again.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask; he lurches to latch himself to your body, anxious as though you’ll push him away at any given moment. His arms are tight and unmoving around your waist.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently, “I don't know why I said it. I just wanted the others to respect me but shouldn’t have said such awful things. The only person I need is you.”

“What?”

“I don’t care about any of that now. None of it matters to me if you’re not by my side.”

His body shudders when your arms close and tighten around his body and a sob looses from his throat. Your voice is thick as you murmur in his ear.

“You hurt my feelings.”

His head falls to the dip of your shoulder and he clings to you with a strength that you’re not unfamiliar with; it cracks your heart all the same.

“Please forgive me, sweetling. Please.” The velvet of your dress darkens in splotches where his tears fall. “I love you.”

You know he really is remorseful; the guilt eats at him until he can’t feel anything else, not until you’ve reconciled. He's always been the same, ever since you were six and he hit you in the face; you didn’t speak to him for four days and he cried with such vigour that he made himself sick.

“I love you,” you can’t help but whisper back. “But if you ever do something like that again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

He laughs wetly, an odd sound that gets caught in his chest as he presses further into your embrace.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his damp face towards your own. His lips fill with air and push out into a pout.

His muscles go soft and relax the second your lips mesh with his; your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, licks into your mouth and murmurs something imperceptible. When you pull yourself away, he chases you, desperate to be close.

“Love you,” he mumbles, plying you with damp, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks and neck. They leave glistening half moons in his wake. “I‘m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, tucking your head in the hollow of his throat. “I forgive you, alright?”

A laboured breath forces its way out of his lungs when your arm wraps around his neck for a hug.

“I didn't like you sitting next to Aemond,” he sighs. You shush him, rubbing thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks in unbridled affection. “I want you to sit next to me.”

“I always sit next to you,” you murmur. “I was upset, remember?”

“I know,” he whines. “but you’re mine.”

“Don’t be a baby,” you giggle. “I spend all of my time with you.”

He squeezes you tight then and buries his face in your hair. You grunt with the force of his weight.

“I missed you.”

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joonipertree · 6 months

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To show someone that you care, is a gift itself. | Sugar Daddy Bakugo Series

Where you show Katsuki what a gift can be.

Tags: Artist!reader, very self indulgent, like guys....please buy me watercolour paper instead of Versace. Watercolour paper is stupid expensive. Im also not skilled enough to actually make the gift so--

Pt 1 Pt 3

Katsuki's birthday had been looming when the two of you started going out, like a weighted shadow. You had spent a very long stressing about what to get him with a budget that wasn't even worth a fraction of what he would buy you.

But, like gift giving was Katsuki's, it was your love language as well. And you'd gotten good at getting heart felt things for people. Admittedly, it took a lot of brainstorming and notes upon notes of what to get.

You'd always go overboard to please the people you cared about, afraid that they'll leave if you didn't cross the limits and bend over backwards for them.

Katsuki had always taken care of you, never asked for anything and your love was returned albeit in a quieter and tsundere manner. So the urge to go above and beyond didn't fester for long, knowing that your bare presence made him warmer.

Your gift idea came when he was on the ring, swift on his feet and solid in the rigidness of his body. You'd brought your sketchbook and while you wanted to keep your eyes on your boyfriend, your hands became busy with large curves and sharp flicks of your pencil that brought dark edges .

You'd made at least 20 quick gestures drawings that were more crude representations of movement for you. But with those and the feelings you trapped in your heart, you made thumbnails and chose one to draw large scale.

One where Katsuki's face was partially blocked by his arm and he gave a blow. His elbows were jagged, muscles taut and rippling. And his eyes sharp and cat like.

The charcoal pencils and sticks used to create tapered lines to create hard surfaces was 340 yen. The watercolour pallete used had messy paint splattered everywhere and its lid broken, having been with you for a good while. The coat over the charcoal was 50 yen hair spray that worked just as well as professional sprays.

It didn't cost a lot but your hands were full of care and by the end of it, you hoped that it'd be something Katsuki would at least like. The man could have the world but all you had was you.

You didn't realize that you were more than enough

Katsuki to lost his voice when you handed it to him at midnight, eyes wide as he stared at him but not him. The layers on layers of paint held emotions that he could only describe as love, meticulously hand picked and felt in strokes. He'd seen HD pictures of his fights, seen videos of them where his sweat and pores were as clear as day. The most he'd thought of them were how his form could improve or how cool he looked.

But what you made, it twisted something in his chest and stung his eyes and filled him to the brim with love so warm and overwhelming that his body wasn't big enough to hold it.

You two had been dating for 4 months, Katsuki had spent that time falling in love with you in ways he didn't think possible. He'd fall with every giggle and kiss and ramble and your face when you were concentrating. He'd never said 'I love you', hoping his actions showed it enough, still too scared to speak it in case it was met with hesitance or silence.

But Katsuki had gently put down the canvas, something you that you'd built, stretched and primed yourself. And while you made eye contact with the walls and ceiling, you explained how the only thing you could come up with was the painting, that you wanted to capture the emotions you felt when you saw him fight. That it wasn't much but---

Katsuki had engulfed you in a hug, hand on the back of your head to press it against him and an arm around your waist. He squeezed you, tried to express all that he was feeling with one hug alone. You felt it, held him tightly and carded your fingers through his hair. With his shoulders shaking, you had an inkling that he had been crying. When he spoke, with a wobbly voice, you were sure that he was.

"I love you." He'd muttered out for the first time.

"I love you more." You whispered back and Katsuki had firmly denied it, that no one could love a person as much as he loved you.

Getting a gift for you became hard after that, because Katsuki sucked at making shit.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bnha fic #bnha x reader #bnha headcannons #bnha fanfiction

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glitterjay · 2 months

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— loser boyfriend

⭒ sub!jake, afab!reader, needy jake, pet names (puppy, good boy, etc.) masturbation (m.) suggestive content under cut, mdni!

⭒ c's note: im in my heavy jake feels so enjoy this! | mlist @hollyoongs this one's for you, beloved <3

jake was always confident. his ego was through the roof with that cocky grin of his always lingering on his face. his flirty personality only added to his way of being, and to say he was an incredible dom in bed was a low title for him.

but there where time where you didn't notice. times of vulnerability that he had to deal on his own. and they were starting to happen quite often. like that one time, you accidentally brushed your arm against the outline of his dick when you tried reaching for the remote. or when your legs touched his under the table while you guys hung out with his friends.

there was no way in hell he'd let you or anyone know of this state. absolutely not. so there he was, stuck in his apartment's bathroom, massaging the massive bulge growing under his sweats. the cause of it? you had called him puppy because you saw people pulling that prank on their partners on tiktok.

"jakey?"

you called from behind the door. he practically ran when you realized his cheeks went red as a tomato at your words. to say you were worried was an understatement. it was more of amusement. you didn't know such a thing could ride him up so fast.

"puppy, are you okay?" you called again.

jake, on the other hand, was biting his lower lip as hard as he could. the taste of blood was starting to fill his taste buds. but he didn't care. he was fighting every single sound that was threatening to come out of his mouth. he took a deep breath, and stopped his movements for a second.

"i'm- i'm fine."

his voice had betrayed him, just as you expected. you leaned in closer to the door, using your aoftest voice to talk to him. "are you sure you don't want me to help, baby?"

jayun was going crazy at this point. his throat was starting to hurt from holding in the nasiest and highest moans ever. his cock was now freed from his sweatpants, proudly standing and being bumped by his fist. there was nothing wrong with a little change, right?

"it's a special occasion," he mumbled. "yeah, a special day."

"darling?" he called. to which you answered knocking on the door.

"you can help me. but it'll have to stay like this. you on that side, and me in here, mkay?"

you knew he didnt want you to see him like this, and you knew he didnt want to lose his fuck boy facade. it was a shame you wouldn't be able to see his fucked out expression, or how his beautiful adams apple would be more noticeable with his head thrown back, but you agreed nonetheless.

"im here," you reassured

"fuck baby, keep talking"

his voice was clearly breaking, and he was panting a lot. your panties were starting to feel wet, but you could deal with that later. or maybe the dom rough jake you knew could take over then.

"is your fist enough, pretty?" you asked. the pet names had jake seeing little stars all over the bathroom. he moaned in response. he didn't care anymore. he was loud.

you grinned at how vocal he was, catching onto how much he liked the nicknames. "is my baby close? cum for me like a good boy."

the sweetness of your voice, plus the million emotions going through his head, had him cumming hard. the white ropes shot out like a hose as he leaned back into the door, moaning loudly. it was almost as if he was crying. soft whimpers kept leaving his pretty mouth. he could get used to days like this.

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #enhypen smut #kpop #kpop smut #hard hours #enhypen hard hours #engene #enhypen jake #enhypen jake smut #jake sim #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun smut #jake smut

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sadnymi · 9 days

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「 ✦ Loml ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: You and Mattheo share a legendary love, the kind that makes you leave everything behind without regrets—your life, your friends, even your family. You're dead to them now, because how dare you be with the son of Voldemort? Everything seemed perfect until last night, when Mattheo didn't come home. When he finally did, you knew something terrible was about to happen.

Warnings: Angst , Angst , Angst ( you have been warned), smut , unprotected sex, strong language.

Words:4k

Mattheo didn’t come home last night, and I was losing my mind, worried sick about him. The hours dragged on, each minute a relentless torture of anxiety and fear. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Every creak of the house made my heart leap with hope, only to be disappointed each time. Where was he? What had happened?

It was well past midnight when I finally heard the front door creak open. my heart leaped into my throat. Relief washed over me, followed swiftly by a wave of emotions—anger, concern, love. Before I could say anything, he was there, his lips crashing onto mine in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Mattheo,” I whispered against his mouth, but he silenced me with another kiss, more demanding this time. His hands roamed my body, pulling me closer as if he needed to reassure himself that I was real, that I was here.

"Mattheo, what's going on?" I tried to ask, but he silenced me with another fierce kiss, his fingers gripping my hips tightly.

"Mattheo," I whispered, cupping his cheek. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He shook his head slightly, his expression pained but determined. "Just let me have this." he said softly, his voice cracking.

I nodded and opened my mouth trying to ask him what was bothering him but my words were cut off as he bent me over, his fingers curling around the waistband of my pants, yanking them down. His breath was hot against my neck

He thrust into me hard and fast, the intensity of his movements leaving me breathless. I could tell something was off, but the way he was taking me left no room for questions. He was usually vocal, but now, he was almost eerily silent, his focus solely on the act itself.

“Did something happen baby?” I managed to gasp out between thrusts, my hands gripping the sheets.

He didn’t answer, just increased his pace, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. The roughness of his touch, the ferocity of his rhythm—it was as if he was trying to drown out whatever was haunting him.

I could feel my orgasm building, the pressure inside me reaching a breaking point. “Mattheo, I’m gonna—”

My scream echoed through the room as I came, my body trembling with the force of it. He followed moments later, his release silent but powerful, his grip on me tightening as he shuddered against my back.

He pulled out and turned me around, lifting me onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the roughness from before. His eyes were dark, filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

He kissed me softly, trailing down my body until his mouth was between my thighs. He licked and sucked, his tongue working magic as he brought me to another orgasm, my cries of pleasure mingling with his soft kisses.

When he was done, he moved back up, his lips brushing against every inch of my skin, his hands caressing me as if committing every curve to memory. He entered me again, this time slow and gentle, his eyes locked onto mine.

He held my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had formed. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” I replied, my heart aching with the intensity of my feelings.

He moved within me with deliberate slowness, each thrust a silent promise. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as if he might disappear at any moment. We reached our climax together, the wave of pleasure washing over us in perfect sync.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly when we were done, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He didn’t answer, just held me tighter, his arms a protective cocoon around me. There was something in his silence, something heavy and unspoken.

“Mattheo,” I whispered again, but he simply kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

I wanted to push, to demand answers, but exhaustion overtook me. I fell asleep in his arms, my last conscious thought a prayer that whatever was haunting him, we would face it together.

The next morning, I woke up to find the space beside me empty. My heart sank, the unease from the night before creeping back in. I slipped out of bed and padded across the room, spotting Mattheo on the balcony. He was leaning against the railing, a cigarette in his hand, the early morning light casting a soft glow on his features.

I walked up to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Good morning," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him from behind and resting my head on his back. He didn't respond, just took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling upwards into the crisp air.

"Mattheo," I started, my voice tentative, "please talk to me. What's going on?"

Silence.

I tightened my arms around him slightly, trying to convey my concern and love through the embrace. "You were so distant last night. You scared me. I need to know what's bothering you."

Still, no answer.

"Is it something I did? Something that happened? Please, Mattheo, just tell me. We can face it together."

He remained quiet, staring out into the distance, his body tense against mine.

"Mattheo, please don't shut me out."

He took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh, but said nothing. I could feel the wall between us, thicker than ever, and it broke my heart.

"Do you not trust me?" I asked, my voice cracking with emotion. "You said you love me, and I believe you. But if you don't let me in, how can fix whatever is bothering you now?"

He flicked the cigarette butt over the railing, watching it fall before finally turning to face me. His eyes were dark, filled with a turmoil I couldn't decipher. I reached up to touch his face, but he caught my hand, holding it tightly in his own.

His grip on my hand was firm as he turned away from the balcony, leading us back into the room. He sank into the couch. I stood there, watching him, my heart aching with the weight of his silence.

Memories flooded my mind, moments that defined us, that showcased the depth of our connection. I remembered the first time I saw him, standing in the shadows of Hogwarts' library. His eyes, dark and intense, met mine and I felt an inexplicable pull towards him. Despite his infamous last name, there was something in him that I couldn't ignore.

The wizarding world saw him in two extremes: as a legacy of power or as a monster. To me, he was neither. He was Mattheo, the boy who found solace in the pages of old books, who laughed freely with me by the Black Lake, and who kissed me tenderly in hidden corridors.

I remembered the night we decided to leave it all behind. The weight of his family's name haunted him, the expectations and fears others placed on him were suffocating. We chose love over legacy, escaping to a place where he wasn't seen as the heir to a dark throne, but simply as a man in love.

I remembered the first time he had said, **"You're the love of my life,"** when we were just kids. His words had been simple, but they had held a promise that resonated through the years and since then he won’t stop to remind me of it every chance he gets. We left the grandeur of wizarding society for a small, quiet life in the countryside. It was a decision that felt right, a decision I'd make a million times over without regret.

I moved to sit beside him on the couch. "Hey," I said softly, trying to catch his eye. "Baby, please, what is bothering you?"

He remained a statue, his body rigid, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor far beyond me. It was like staring into a stranger's eyes, devoid of the warmth and affection that used to light them up whenever he looked at me.

"Okay," I tried again, my voice cracking under the strain. "So... what about we go to that place you like tonight?Remember, we were talking about—"

"We are not going anywhere," he cut me off, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. It sent a fresh wave of ice crashing through my veins.

Panic clawed at my throat. "Okay, we can stay home," I stammered, desperately searching for anything to break the suffocating silence, "make some ________ "

He stood up abruptly, his movement so sudden it startled me. My breath hitched in my throat as his towering figure loomed over me. The playful glint in his eyes, the one that used to make my heart skip a beat, was replaced with a cold,hard glint of something far more sinister.

The words died in my mouth when I saw the look on his face. It was a mix of anger, frustration, and something else I couldn't quite place – a flicker of regret, maybe? But it was quickly overshadowed by the other emotions, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Don't you get it?" he spat, his voice laced with a bitterness I'd never heard before. "This was never supposed to be serious. It was fun, a distraction, but nothing more."

My breath hitched. Distraction?

"But... but I..." I stammered, the words catching in my throat.

"You what, Y/N?" He scoffed, the sound harsh and unforgiving. "Did you think being with me was some grand fairytale? You know who I am, Y/N. There's a legacy to uphold, a family to consider. Did you think you, with your… your ordinary life, could ever fit into that?"

His words, each one laced with disdain, ripped through me like a knife. Ordinary. Was that all I was to him?

"But…" I stammered, my voice choked with unshed tears. "We… we built a beautiful life together. We talked about our future we__"

He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Future? Y/N, you left your life for me. Your family, your friends, everything. Did you really think I'd just abandon everything I have, my legacy, for… for you?"

"I… I never asked you to abandon anything," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. My voice was barely audible, a broken plea lost in the suffocating silence of the room.

"But you did," he countered, his voice growing colder with every word. "You disrupted the plan. You made me question everything."

"But I love you," I whispered, the words fragile and broken. "I gave up everything for you."

His answer was a cruel laugh. "Love? Don't be ridiculous. You were just young and naive, Y/N. You thought escaping your family drama meant finding some happily ever after. This isn't some storybook”

The pain was a physical entity now, a vise tightening around my chest, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

"Did you ever loved me, Mattheo? Or was it just another lie?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The question hung heavy in the air, a desperate plea for a shred of hope in the midst of this crushing despair.

He met my gaze, his eyes devoid of warmth, devoid of anything resembling the love I had seen reflected there countless times before. "No," he said, the word sharp and final. "I liked you, Y/N. I enjoyed the… distraction. But this? This isn't love."

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for a flicker of the warmth we once shared. I sank onto the couch, my tears falling uncontrollably.

He took a step back, his eyes holding a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like guilt. But it was quickly replaced by a cold indifference that sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over me.

"I'll leave," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You can stay here."

He grabbed his phone and keys from the coffee table, his movements mechanical, devoid of the warmth that used to characterize even his most mundane actions.

I sat there, numb, watching him walk towards the door. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the room, each reverberation a physical blow to my heart. It was then, as the final echo died down, that the dam broke.

A sob escaped my lips, a raw, primal sound that tore through the silence. I crumpled onto the couch, my body racked with sobs. The pain felt like a physical entity, a crushing weight in my chest, stealing my breath and blurring the world around me.

We almost had it all. Almost.

The space beside me in the bed remained stubbornly empty, a constant reminder of the gaping hole Mattheo's absence had ripped in my life. The night after he left, I lay there, a hollow shell staring at the ceiling. My body ached with a dull throb,the aftermath of the storm that had raged within me. Sleep was a distant dream, replaced by a relentless torrent of tears that threatened to drown me.

Days blurred into one another. I became a prisoner in my own apartment, trapped in the agonizing limbo of grief. Getting out of bed felt like a herculean task, the simple act of breathing a burden. Time stretched before me, an endless expanse of grey, devoid of colour or joy.

The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional choked sob that escaped my lips. The remnants of our life together mocked me - a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table, his abandoned toothbrush in the bathroom, the scent of his cologne that clung stubbornly to his favourite armchair.

Grief twisted within me, manifesting in a kaleidoscope of emotions. Rage surged through me in hot waves, followed by crushing despair that left me weak and breathless. I'd scream into pillows, the sound muffled and distorted, a hollow echo of the pain tearing at me.

In a fit of blind fury, I hurled a picture frame across the room, the glass shattering into a million pieces on impact. The sound was almost satisfying, a momentary release from the suffocating silence within. But even the destruction brought no solace. The room, once a symbol of our love, now mirrored the fractured state of my heart.

Exhaustion eventually claimed me, pulling me into a restless sleep. Dreams offered no solace, only a cruel twist of reality.I dreamt of Mattheo, his eyes filled with regret, his lips brushing against mine as he whispered apologies, promises that he didn't mean it, that he loved me.

Then, with a jolt, I woke up. The stark reality of the empty bed, the chilling silence, slammed back into me. It was a dream, a cruel mirage in the desert of my grief. Tears welled up again, hot and stinging, as the realization settled in - he wasn't coming back.

The sting of the hot water had done little to soothe the raw ache in my chest. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel, the reflection in the mirror a stranger staring back. My eyes, once sparkling with life, were bloodshot and puffy from days of relentless crying. My skin, usually vibrant with a healthy glow, was pale and drawn. I barely recognized myself.

Back in the bedroom, the emptiness hit me with renewed force. Each creak of the floorboard, each tick of the clock echoed the hollowness within. My gaze fell on a crumpled piece of paper lying innocuously on my bed. A surge of confusion washed over me. I hadn't placed anything there.

Frantic, I searched the room, the silence broken only by the ragged gasps escaping my lips. There was no one here; Mattheo was gone. A bitter laugh escaped me, the irony laced with a fresh wave of tears. He'd warned me – never trust anyone. But where was he now, the one person I'd trusted with my entire heart?

Picking up the paper, I unfolded it, hands trembling. The words scrawled across the page were written in an ancient language, one I recognized from my dusty spellbooks. But what caught my eye was the line at the top – "From a friend." A friend? In the wreckage of my world, the concept felt alien.

The spell itself was simple, its purpose clear – to numb the pain. It promised a temporary reprieve from the agonizing ache that threatened to consume me. But a tiny voice whispered a warning deep within. Magic always came with a price and this spell must be forbidden for a reason.

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the parchment. What was the worst that could happen?

Numbness. That's what I craved. It seemed like a small price to pay when compared to the excruciating pain that gnawed at my very core. Didn't I deserve some peace, even if it was temporary?

With a shaky hand, I reached for my wand. The familiar weight in my palm felt foreign, a stark reminder of the life I used to lead – a life filled with laughter, love, and magic. Now, it held the potential for oblivion, a desperate escape from the unbearable reality.

Taking a deep breath, I whispered the incantation, the ancient words tasting bitter on my tongue. A faint blue light emanated from the tip of my wand, engulfing me in a cool embrace. For a moment, there was nothing – no pain, no sorrow, just an emotionless void.

The first few days were a blur. I spent them curled up in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling, the world fading into a muted backdrop. The spell wore off after a few hours, but the return of pain was a stronger than ever. So, I cast it again.

Then again.

And again.

What started as an occasional escape became a daily ritual. The once faint blue light became a familiar glow, casting an eerie light on my deteriorating world. Soon, once a day wasn't enough. Twice became the norm, then three, then a constant hum of magic thrummed in the air around me, a desperate attempt to outrun the pain.

A metallic tang filled my mouth, jolting me awake. Blood. My nose was bleeding, a crimson stain blooming down the front of my nightgown. Panic clawed at my throat, a sharp contrast to the dull ache that had become my constant companion.

This wasn't normal. The numbness, the shield I had built around my heart, it was slipping. The raw, agonizing grief threatened to consume me once more. But the familiar blue light, once my solace, refused to respond. My wand trembled in my hand, the incantation stumbling on my tongue, the ancient words feeling foreign and hollow.

A strange dizziness washed over me, the room tilting at an alarming angle. My vision blurred, the edges of the room dissolving into swirling colors. A wave of nausea hit me, bile rising in my throat. This wasn't just the pain returning; this was something different, something terrifyingly new.

My body, once numb to all sensation, ignited in protest. A dull ache that had become my baseline morphed into a searing pain that radiated from my core. My limbs grew heavy, a strange tingling sensation creeping up my extremities. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the fear coursing through me.

Tears, long forgotten, welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision even further. I stumbled out of bed, my legs shaky and uncoordinated. The world swam before me, the once-familiar room morphing into a maze of threatening shadows.

The next day dawned, bringing no relief. The symptoms, once a terrifying novelty, became a relentless onslaught. My body wracked with chills one moment, then burning with an internal fever the next. Blood, not just from my nose but also from my mouth, stained everything I touched, a grotesque reminder of my deteriorating state.

Weakness, crippling and pervasive, enveloped me. As I tried to rise from my bed, the world tilted violently, and my vision swam with black spots. A scream ripped from my throat, a scream, desperate plea for help that echoed unanswered in the empty apartment.

Then, darkness threatened to consume me. I felt myself falling, the floor rushing up to meet me. But just before the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness claimed me, a strong pair of hands gripped my body, arresting my fall.

Disoriented and delirious, I blinked, my vision blurry. Through the haze, a familiar face materialized.

"Y/N?Can you hear me love?" A voice, urgent and laced with panic, called my name. It sounded distant, muffled, as if filtered through water. But the warmth of the hand holding me, the metallic scent of my blood staining his fingers, these were real.

This wasn't a dream. It was him.

"What have you done, love?" Mattheo's voice, ragged with worry, reached me through the haze of pain engulfing my body. I wanted to answer, to tell him everything, but the words wouldn't form. The pain that had been a constant ache in my heart had become a monstrous beast clawing at every inch of me.

"It hurt so much," I managed to gasp, tears mixing with the blood trickling down my nose.

His hands were gentle but firm, cradling me, wiping away the blood and the tears with a tenderness that brought a flicker of warmth to the icy grip of fear that had taken hold. "I know, baby, I know," he murmured, desperation lacing his voice. "Just tell me, please, what have you done?"

"I just wanted it to stop," I rasped, pointing weakly at my heart, its every beat a thrumming ache. “ it hurt so much.”

My gaze drifted beyond his shoulder, and a flicker of disbelief sparked through the fog clouding my mind. There, in the doorway, stood the man whose name had only been whispered in hushed tones – the man who controlled Mattheo's destiny, his father.

"He… he's back?" My voice was a rasp, barely audible, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth.

"Shh, love, don't try to talk," Mattheo soothed, his grip tightening protectively around me.

"What have you done to her?" He turned to his father, his voice sharp as a knife.

"Just showed her a way to numb the pain," the man replied with chilling indifference. In that moment, the fear I felt transcended human comprehension.

He looked exactly like the villains from my childhood fairytales, the embodiment of pure evil.

So this was the reason behind the shift in Mattheo, the darkness that had threatened to consume him.

Fear clawed at me, but I managed to reach for Mattheo's hand, finding strength in his warm touch. His other hand stroking my hair grounded me.

"Don't be afraid, love," he murmured into my hair.

"It wasn't the deal!" Mattheo said, his voice laced with a fury I'd never witnessed before. "I told you I would leave her, I would leave everything, but you just had to leave her out of it!"

"I'm helping you, child," the man said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You pushed her away, but you love her. That cannot happen. You need to get rid of your weakness."

"Shut up!" Mattheo snarled, his eyes blazing. "Shut the fuck up. You leave her out of this!"

I choked on a fresh wave of blood, the world spinning wildly. This was too much, far too much. A terrible realization dawned on me – I was dying.

But at least I was dying in Mattheo's arms, and in that moment, I knew he didn't mean the cruel words he'd spoken. He was just trying to protect me.

"You're not dying," Mattheo whispered fiercely, as if reading my mind. "You're not dying, baby. I won't allow it."

"It's okay," I rasped, my voice barely audible.

"It's not!" he argued, his voice thick with desperation. I reached out, my trembling hand finding his. He squeezed it back, his touch a beacon of strength in the storm.

"Can you say it like you used to ? can you tell me that you love me?" My voice was barely a whisper. "I want to hear you say it one last time."

"No, because you are not dying," he insisted, turning his blazing gaze back to his father. "Save her, do something and save her or I swear, I won't just leave you. I will make sure to ruin you, ruin everything you built, kill you for good this time."

Another cough, another surge of blood. My vision blurred at the edges.

"Mattheo," I whispered, my voice weak but determined.

He looked down at me, his face etched with agony. "You're not dying," he repeated, his voice a desperate plea.

"Look at me, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Keep your eyes on me. Keep those beautiful eyes on me, baby."

With a final surge of strength, I mustered a smile. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you so much."

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You're the love of my life, and I love you more than life itself," he declared, his voice thick with emotion.

A weak smile touched my lips. Before darkness threatened to claim me, a single thought brought a sliver of peace. He loved me. That was all that mattered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Do you think she will survive? 🙄

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle series

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nahoney22 · 25 days

Note

Congrats on 4,500k honey! Now I know you’ve already done this before but please I beg of you can we have some more first kisses with the bad batch? 🥹 it’s okay if you choose not to! Many thanks 💜

First Kisses 2.0

All Bad Batch Boys X Female Reader (can be read as GN)

Warnings: First Cheek and Lip Kisses with The Bad Batch. Mostly Fluff, Spontaneous Kisses, Some Angsty Kisses. Injury to Reader. Can also be read as GN. Not Proofread, A Little Rushed.

Authors note: of course you can bestie! Enjoy! 😚 some fluff before the finale! 😭

First instalment

Echo 💋

On the cheek:

“Echo, I’m fine. Honestly.” You laugh softly, watching as the Clone inspects every inch of your skin for injuries after a very narrow miss on the last mission.

"You narrowly escaped a blast," he remarks, frustration laced with also relief.

"And I owe that to you," you counter, recalling his swift rescue that spared you from harm.

Perched on the control panel, your legs swing gently as he inspects your hand, searching for any sign shrapnel pieces. With a soft smile, you meet his gaze, “Is there anyway I can thank you?” You ask only for your curiosity to be piqued by his hesitation.

His expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his features. "I... I'm not sure. You don't have to," he stammers, his composure momentarily faltering under your gaze.

"But I want to," you insist, your eyes alight with sincerity as you hold his gaze.

“Do you… have something in mind?" he asks, his voice betraying a hint of anticipation as he tidies up the supplies.

After a moment's contemplation, an idea forms in your mind. "Actually, yes."

As he stands before you, you extend a finger, silently urging him closer. His eyes widen in anticipation, and he leans in, allowing you to press a tender kiss to his cheek when he’s close enough. "Thank you, Echo," you murmur softly, pulling back to gauge his reaction.

His bewilderment is evident, but a flicker of warmth spreads across his features. "That's... that's okay. Anytime.”

On the lips:

Okay, this time was too close.

In the dim light of your bunk, the weight of the recent mission hangs heavy in the air, amplified by the throbbing pain in your head. Echo's presence is comforting. Yet, he doesn’t say a word to you.

As he fusses over you, checking your bandages a sense of frustration and exhaustion settles over you and unable to bear the silence any longer, you muster the strength to voice your concern.

"Echo, what's wrong?" you inquire softly, your voice strained from the pain, as he prepares to leave your side.

He pauses, his movements faltering as he turns back to you, his expression a mixture of anger and regret. "You could have been killed," he breathes out heavily, his words carrying a weight to it.

"I know," you respond with a weary smile, "but I'm still here."

His gaze softens as he kneels before you, his hand instinctively finding solace in the strands of your hair. "I should have protected you better," he murmurs.

You shake your head gently, wincing at the pain. "You would have risked your life," you remind him softly.

His lips part, a flicker of resolve in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "For you, I would," he admits, his voice filled with unwavering determination. "I... I care a lot about you."

A rush of warmth floods your chest at his confession, your heart pounding in response. "Don't say that..." you protest weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"But it's true," he insists, his gaze unwavering as he lays bare his emotions. "I really care for you."

You fall silent, the weight of his words sinking in, before a smile curves your lips. With a gentle touch, you cup his cheek, silently urging him closer. In a moment of shared understanding, he leans in, expecting another kiss on his cheek. Yet, to his soft surprise, your lips find his, the kiss tender and fleeting.

"I care for you too," you whisper against his lips, the words a promise.

He gasps at your touch, his hand and scomp gently cradling your face as he moves his lips along with yours, knowing that he could never live another day without the feeling of your kiss again.

Hunter 💋

On the cheek:

"Have you found what you're looking for?" Hunter's voice breaks the tranquility as he joins you amidst the foliage, his gaze scanning the array of plants as he kneels beside you.

"Not yet," you reply with a hint of disappointment, your passion for herbalism driving your search for a rare medicinal herb, a desperate need since resources are now scarce since being on the run.

Hunter nods, but a subtle sheepishness colours his demeanor, his eyes evading yours as he fidgets slightly. Sensing his unease, you pause and turn to him. "Hunter, is everything alright?" you ask softly.

He hesitates for a moment before extending a hand, revealing a delicate flower nestled between his fingers. "I, uh, came across this and thought it might look nice in your hair," he mumbles, his words tinged with a rare vulnerability.

Surprised by his gesture, you accept the flower with a smile, touched by his unexpected sweetness. "Really?" you murmur, tucking the bloom into your hair. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you, Hunter. Thank you."

A warmth tints your cheeks before you find yourself leaning in, planting a kiss on his cheek. His sharp inhale of breath at the touch had you pulling back, completely embarrassed by your reaction. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to—" you begin, flustered by your own boldness.

But Hunter's warm smile reassures you, his eyes crinkling with fondness. "I didn't mind at all. I'm just glad you liked it.”

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, a fleeting connection sparks between you both, a silent exchange of unspoken emotions. A shiver dances down your spine as his gaze locks with yours, a subtle tension simmering between you.

Caught in the moment, your eyes inadvertently drift to his lips, mirroring the silent invitation reflected in his own gaze. A shared understanding passes between you.

With a gentle resolve, Hunter closes the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours as his nose brushes against yours.

“Hunter, we are ready to go," Tech's voice interrupts the moment through a comm, breaking the spell that held you captive. With a reluctant sigh, you exchange a brief glance, silently acknowledging that this was not the right time.

On the lips:

In the quiet sanctuary of the ship, you find yourself caught in a spell, twirling the flower in your hair that Hunter had given you, the memory of his gaze lingering like a sweet melody in your mind. From across the ship, his eyes, full of unspoken words, steal glances at you, silent conversation being said.

As the others drift off to sleep, Hunter finally approaches, his voice a low murmur that sends butterflies dancing in your stomach. Leaning against the wall, his proximity intoxicates you, the air thick with excitement.

"We should talk about earlier," he begins, his voice intoxicating.

Summoning courage you didn't know you had, you meet his gaze, your heart pounding with adoration. "Or perhaps we could finish what we started?" you suggest, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

A spark of excitement lights up his eyes, his smile soft. "I like that idea," he murmurs, his hand finding its place on your hip, drawing you closer.

With a daring smile, you lean in, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss that sends your mind reeling. Warm, gentle lips slot perfectly between your own, hands tangling in his hair as you both try to stay as quiet as possible so the others don’t wake up.

Wrecker 💋

On the cheek:

"Hey, do ya want to grab a bite to eat or somethin’?" Wrecker's voice breaks through your thoughts, drawing your attention to his familiar grin.

"That sounds great!" you respond eagerly, accepting his hand as he effortlessly helps you up from the grass before you both set off, the ease of conversation flowing between you.

As you’re walking, you can't ignore the way his eyes had lit up in your presence, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of him liking you more than a friend.

Entering the bustling market, a myriad of tantalising scents fills the air, but your senses are drawn to a fruity and fragrant cuisine. "Wanna try this one?" you suggest, gesturing towards the inviting stall.

"Definitely. Smells delicious!" Wrecker agrees, but before you can reach for your credits, his large hand gently stops you.

"I'll get it. My treat," he insists, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" you ask softly, touched by his gesture.

"Positive," he affirms with a grin.

Grateful for his kindness, you lean up to his height, planting a soft kiss on his scarred cheek. "Thank you," you murmur, the warmth of his smile melting your heart.

Wide-eyed, Wrecker stares at you in surprise, his laughter bubbling up at your unexpected gesture. "Woah! What was that for?"

"For being sweet enough to treat me," you explain with a grin, accepting the food from the vendor as you continue your stroll through the market.

"If a kiss is the price, I should treat ya more often," Wrecker jokes, but beneath his playful tone, you can't help but wonder if there's a hint of truth to his words. Only time will tell.

On the Lips:

The memory of that innocent kiss on Wrecker's cheek lingers, replaying over and over in your mind. Despite its simplicity, you couldn't shake the excited reaction it had evoked from him.

One day, as you meticulously clean your gear and Wrecker's, he enters the ship with a grin, his gaze finding yours before he approaches you. "You don't have to do tha’ for me," he chuckles, taking a seat in front of you and admiring his now gleaming helmet.

"I know," you reply simply, shrugging. "I just wanted to."

Wrecker watches you for a moment, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes, a warmth spreading through your cheeks. "What are you looking at?" you ask playfully.

"Someone pretty," he blurts out, his admission catching you off guard, but you can't help but giggle as he becomes flustered.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself, handsome," you tease, a hint of truth underlying your words. His shy laughter only adds to the warmth that fills the air between you.

As the silence envelops you, Wrecker takes a deep breath, his movements deliberate as he inches closer. "Sorry, I-I just need to try something," he mutters, cupping your cheek gently before leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

Surprised but eager, you reciprocate almost immediately, the helmet in your hand forgotten as it drops with a thud. Giggles escape your lips as Wrecker pulls you into his lap, his kisses igniting a fire within you.

"What was that for?" you ask breathlessly as you finally part, your heart racing with exhilaration.

"I wanted to say thank you for cleaning my stuff," he replies with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Sometimes, the simplest gestures can lead to the most unforgettable moments.

Tech 💋

On the cheek:

For days, you've wrestled with the decision to approach Tech about your broken data pad. But his constant busyness always seemed to deter you, and you didn’t want to burden him with your trivial problem.

But as you sit there, struggling with the malfunctioning device, you can't help but feel a pang of frustration. With a sigh, you finally gather the courage to seek out Tech's assistance, despite your reluctance.

Approaching him tentatively, you clear your throat to get his attention. "Um, Tech? Do you have a moment?" you ask, your voice hesitant.

Tech looks up from his screen, his gaze attentive as he assesses your expression. "Rarely. But what can I help you with?"

With a sheepish smile, you explain the issue with your datapad, feeling embarrassed by your own incompetence. But to your luck, Tech doesn't scold or dismiss you. Instead, he nods understandingly, taking the device from your hands with a gentle reassurance.

"I'll take care of it," he assures you, his fingers deftly working their magic as he sets to work on the repairs.

As you watch him, a wave of gratitude washes over you, mingled with a hint of admiration for his skill, something you always admired. And when he finally presents the fully repaired datapad back to you, a sense of relief floods your senses.

"Thank you, Tech," you murmur softly, truly appreciative.

His eyes meet yours, a warm smile gracing his features. "You're welcome," he replies simply, his attention already drifting back to his work.

But before you can stop yourself, a spontaneous impulse overtakes you. Leaning forward, you press a shy kiss to his cheek, the gesture a silent expression of gratitude and affection.

Tech blinks in surprise, his mouth agape but no words come out as he meets your gaze, his expression a mix of astonishment and warmth. "Uh, thank you," he stammers, bashful. Cute. He’s always been cute.

Embarrassed by your boldness, you quickly retreat, a shy smile gracing your lips as you leave.

On the lips:

The next day a cloud of uncertainty hangs over you. Despite the warmth of the moment of kissing Tech briefly on the cheek, a nagging doubt gnaws at you, fueled by Tech's seemingly distant behaviour.

You can't shake the feeling that you may have overstepped, that your spontaneous gesture may have made him uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, Tech grapples with his own turmoil, his thoughts consumed by the memory of your kiss. Despite the warmth it sparked in him, a newfound shyness overtakes him, leaving him unsure of how to proceed. He was never good at explaining his feelings anyway and so to express his own feelings, specifically about wanting to kiss you and reciprocate the affection you showed him.

Days then pass of awkward glances and silent hello’s until Tech finally has enough of waiting.

One evening, as the ship settles into a quiet lull, you find yourself alone with Tech in the dim glow of the cockpit.

Heart pounding, you brace yourself for the inevitable confrontation, prepared to face the consequences of your actions. But to your surprise, Tech's gaze meets yours, his eyes filled with a familiar warmth that always made you smile.

"Hello," he begins, his voice soft yet determined. "I have been meaning to talk to you."

You swallow nervously, bracing yourself for his response. “Good, because I feel like I’ve-.” But before you can utter another word, Tech steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

"I want you to know," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "that the kiss you gave me... it meant a lot to me."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, relief flooding through you as you realise that perhaps your fears were unnecessary all along.

"Clearly, I have been trying to find the right time to tell you," Tech continues, his gaze unwavering as he closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, long-awaited kiss, “that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Your arms wrap around him, sighing into his kiss with a soft smile that makes your heart soar. His lips were timid yet they were radiating a warmth that made you want more. “All you had to do was ask.” You grin against his lips, melting as he holds you tight.

Crosshair 💋

On the cheek:

Amidst the chaos of a perilous mission, Crosshair's swift actions save you from harm. As the dust settles and the adrenaline fades, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his mood dark and brooding as he glares into the distance.

"Thanks," you murmur softly, your voice filled with genuine gratitude as you meet his gaze when you stand up, brushing the dust from your hands.

But before he can respond, an impulse overtakes you, and without thinking, you lean forward and press a swift kiss to his chiselled cheek.

Crosshair's expression remains impassive, his eyes betraying a hint of surprise before returning to their usual steely resolve. He offers no response, his silence a barrier that leaves you feeling embarrassed at your stupid action.

What a stupid idea.

On the lips:

As you begin to walk away, a surge of longing grips him, an undeniable pull drawing him back to you. With determined strides, he spins you around, his hand gripping your arm as he gazes into your eyes with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"What was that for?" he growls, his voice laced with a raw intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Unable to suppress the rush of emotion coursing through you, you meet his gaze. Soft and almost vulnerable. "F-for saving my life," you reply, your voice steady despite the tremble in your heart.

Crosshair's features soften, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of stoicism. He hardly thinks himself but he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss that has you gasping for breath.

“Crosshair,” you whimper as you melt into his embrace, realising that beneath his moody exterior lay a heart of gold; a heart that beats in rhythm with your own.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his rifle falling from his grasp as his hands grip onto your hips as he holds you close, just taking in the moment that neither of you wanted to end.

Good luck for the finale everyone🩵

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#the bad batch #bad batch eve #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #nahoney22 writes #tbb #tech x reader #echo x reader #Hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader

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