#oh my goodness what if i melted into the floor right now!!!!!!!!!!
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the smirk
this includes smut of art x reader.
You was sat on the bed, the crispy hotel sheets hitting your legs and the soft pillows that your head just melts in, you felt amazing. In the room next to you it was art, the amazing strong tall blond that no woman could resist.
Art had multiple gorgeous features but there is one thing he does and it keeps you up all night. His smirk just by thinking of it makes your breath go shaky.
You shouldn’t think to sexual of Art, i mean your this coach that would be so wrong. the silence was loud you was tired but something was keeping you up, every time you’d close your eyes you would think of the hot blond fucking you.
You shot your eyes open “stop thinking that!” you say out of frustration “cmon y/n just go to sleep” you whisper to yourself, sounding like a crazy person. You turn on your back just looking at the sealing knowing what your body wants.
You close your eyes letting your imagination take control. Your hand glides down your silky nightgown and into your thong, your hand now rubbing your cunt the thought of Art fucking you with that smirk on his face made you insane.
Your fingers going faster by each fast thrust he was giving you, “oh fu- fuck” moaning sounds his name repeating out your mouth.
You was at your close thinking of Art thrusting in and out while gripping on your throat just made your legs shake. “Art oh fuck.” legs shaking, one hand griping on the sheets while the other giving you satisfaction.
All of a sudden stopping you from your alone time a knock at the door was interrupted. Jumping out the bed acting as if you weren’t fucking yourself. Before opening the door you quickly wipe your hand on something near luckily it was a towel on the floor.
Another knock echoing the room “yes i’m coming” you say annoyed that you got rudely interrupted. Unlocking the door you see a shirtless blond man. “Art” you say out of shock.
“Do you mind if i come in?” he asks with that cold look in your eyes that just made your stomach spin. “er sure” you didn’t know how to act i mean does he somehow know what you was doing or is he just coming over for a chat.
He sat at the end of the bed just looking at me “you know the walls are thin right” his tone of voice sounded tired but it made me shiver of how sexy it sounded completely not taking notice of what he said.
“What?” i questioned kinda zooming back into the world and out my head. “you was moaning y/n, you was moaning my name” i stood still not knowing what to say, “no i wasn’t” avoiding eye contact i felt embarrassed but Art stood up walking closer and closer to me.
My back hits the wall he is now towering over me, both our breaths become shaky “be a good girl and tell the truth” i was shocked not expecting them words to come out his mouth.
“I was” i admitted Art smirked, the same smirk that makes you wet. he grabbed you throat lightly putting presher on his grip, a slight moan slips out your lips. He takes the lead and kisses you it started out slow and romantic to forceful and horny like he wanted to take you there and then.
"Get on the bed" the demanding tone in his voice made you weak, he follows you behind just watching you obey him like a dog. "take your gown off" you do as he's told and take it off in a flash.
He looks at your body mesmerized about you "your so gorgouse" he says then towering over you and pulling you in for a kiss. you couldn't believe what was happing it felt like a wet dream.
His hand sliping under your thong enjoying the feeling of your wetness "so wet for me baby" he says then kissing down your neck while rubbing your heat, you could feel his dick getting hard on your inner thigh.
His fingers now inside you going faster and harder each time, his tip leaking everywhere in his boxers it's like he didn't need to be inside you to even finish. Moans and grunts filling the room, our eyes meeting and never looking away, it was somehow romantic.
"Art oh fuck- don't stop please" close to exploding all on him "you like that hm? does that feel good?" you try to nod but a sudden shock hits you making you arch your back and your head going up. You had let out everything you could on arts fingers, he's still going but somehow even faster and harder.
Your legs shaking around his waist, you look back him to see him biting his lip and doing a slight smirk once again. His grip on the sheets next to you tightens his grunts also getting louder. "shit shit y/n" he moans, his fingers getting a lot more sloppy and his boxers feeling more wet, he was so close.
A couple more thrusts of his fingers and i feel his warm liquid leak through his boxers, he takes his fingers out and licks every bit of you on them, making sure he can taste every bit of you. "you taste so good" you do a breathless laugh, he lowers down does one last make out with you. He gets up off the bed and you quickly put your gown back on.
From behind you can feel his eyes watching you, you loved it. "suppose i should get back to bed" he says "i suppose so" you say back white a sweet smile that he can't resist. you walk him to the door with the disbealf of what literality just happened.
"I’ll see you tomorrow..coach" he leaves while saying and leaving with a little wink which you can't help but do a little laugh. you stand behind the door with you back towards it just trying to keep all your thoughts together.
You walked back towards your bed getting under the quilt and resting your head on the pillows letting your head sink in knowing you was gonna have his intimidating smirk in your head forever.
#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x you#mike faist x you#mike faist#smut fanfiction#challengers#art donaldson#mike faist x reader
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.
ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !
“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.
“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”
he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.
“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.
“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.
“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.
you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.
his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”
you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.
“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.
you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.
you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.
“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.
“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“
“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.
“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”
“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.
“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.
“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”
gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.
you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.
“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.
you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.
“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you
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Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕
ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)
“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.
Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”
You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once.
He’s lucky he’s so pretty.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”
“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.
“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”
“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”
“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.
“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.
“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.
“You,” Eddie deadpans.
You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”
“Wait, what?”
Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”
Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?”
The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.
“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”
Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”
“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”
“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.
“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.
“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.
Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”
“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.
All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.
“You have everything but the looks.”
“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”
“Can’t I?”
“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.
“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.
“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”
“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”
Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back.
“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.
Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”
“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.
Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.
“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”
Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.
“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.
“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”
“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”
“It’s different. You know that.”
You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean.
You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.
“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.
“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”
The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too.
You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.
“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.
“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”
“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”
“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”
You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie.
He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.
Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”
“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”
He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”
“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”
Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.
You cower under his stare. “What?”
“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.
“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.
“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”
“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.
You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.
“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”
You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”
Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again.
This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.
Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.
“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”
“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”
“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”
“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”
“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.
“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”
“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”
Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.
The game of cat and mouse continues.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble
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Oh my goodness your Lucifer fic is SO cute! You write him very well! (Exited for possible pt 2) I was wondering since your requests are open if you'd be willing to write something for either Lucifer or Alastor (or possibly both) with a short shy/anxious reader? Super fluffy plz if possible and you're interested!
Hi Anon! Thanks so much for your submission. I hope you'll enjoy what I came up with! I had fun with this one (it got me giggling and kicking my feet or something...)
Word count: 1.2k words. Kinda got carried away, my bad.
Genre: (Tooth-rotting) Fluff. Established relationship.
Warning: None.
LUCIFER MAGNE with a shy and short S/O:
Lucifer is quite short himself in comparison to a few demons. But, you? Being shorter than him? God, he’ll think you’re the cutest thing ever (plus, it was a massive ego boost on his part). And your timid nature only adds onto it.
Expect him to be very touchy with you. There isn’t a second moment where he isn’t clinging onto or hugging you. Out in the public or even at the hotel, his arm would somehow always find its way wrapped around your shoulders or waist. He just wants to keep you close to him as much as possible, since you just seem to fit so snug and well in his arms.
Lucifer loves it so much when you get all shy and flustered around him. His pride just flourishes whenever your face bursts into flames, especially knowing that it was because of him that you’re acting this way. He’ll tease you about it, but not too much because he cares for your poor heart.
He also knows his million-dollar smile does wonders, so he’ll use it to his advantage. He’ll strike a smile or smirk at you out of nowhere when you would meet eyes, and he’ll revel in the way you’d melt so easily under his gaze. Though, it would be the same for him – his heart would burst with that warm-fuzzy feeling whenever you would send one of your precious smiles his way. This man is smitten and will worship you and the floor you walk on.
Is also super, super supportive of you whenever you get anxious – will do anything in his will to help distract you or alleviate any of your worries, whether it be just holding your hand, talking some nonsense to fill in the silence, or even flying you around to get some fresh air. He'll probably even have a duck-shaped stress ball for you to use whenever you get a bit fidgety.
Additional things I think Lucifer would do: he would give you a lot of forehead/head kisses; HE WOULD TOTALLY SET YOU DOWN ON A COUNTERTOP OR HIS DESK AND KISS YOU FR, OR HE'LL DO SO WHILST CARRY YOU WITH YOUR LEGS STRADDLING HIS WAIST I need self-control; he will shamelessly rant about how adorable you are in front of the others, even if they're all sick of it, 'cause he's just so proud to be your partner!
Lucifer found himself silently admiring you while you were all snuggled up against his chest. After another successful hard day's work, you spent the remainder of the night watching a couple movies together at the hotel’s lounge area.
Noticing a pair of eyes on your figure, you crane your neck up and with a small tilt of your head, you stare back at him in question.
The King suddenly felt his chest swell with so much love and affection for you. You didn’t even know how adorable you looked in his arms right now. Without warning, Lucifer dipped down and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing the surprised yelp that escaped your lips.
As you parted ways, Lucifer grinned widely as your cheeks noticeably began to redden. “W-What was that for?” You pouted.
“Sorry angel, but I just couldn't help it! You looked too cute – I couldn’t not kiss you then.” He stated matter-of-factly. He then leaned once again to press multiple pecks across your face – one on your forehead, on both your cheeks and another lingering one on your lips.
The out-of-the-blue affection had you swiftly burying your face into his chest, a poor attempt made to hide your embarrassment. You could only grumble in defeat as you felt the way his chest shook as he chuckled aloud, evidently amused by your flustered state.
ALASTOR with a short and shy S/O:
Not gonna lie, this man will be so annoying but in an endearing way.
Alastor would tease you endlessly about your height, since the difference would be quite significant – it usually consists of him resting an elbow or his arms on the crown of your head, leaning onto you like you were some sort of personal arm-rest. He personally finds it quite amusing, like a joke that never gets tired.
Since he isn’t really a huge fan of PDA, he would often give you head-pats. It’s a small, simple gesture but it’s his way of showing affection out in public. He would also often have your arms looped around one of his own whenever you two would walk together, side by side.
Behind closed doors, I can see him as the type to pull you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest whilst he reads the newspaper or a book in bed. He would then use your head or shoulders to rest his chin on, to peer over you. Sometimes he would even play with your hair, looping them around his fingers whilst he absent-mindedly hums a sweet, little tune. Again, a simple gesture but also very intimate. I'm literally melting just thinking about it. I feel like he would do something similar like this whenever you get anxious – if it helps, he would also make you some tea on the side, and even let you play with his hands/fingers.
Being the huge tease he is, Alastor just loves how shy you get around him. He's the type to say things like: "Dear, do you have a fever? You look a little flushed," or "My, my, your face may be redder than my suit!" just to see you get riled up even more. But if another demon were to talk smack about how shy you were, you will not see them live another day. That's a guarantee.
Additional things I think Alastor would do: he and/or his shadows would help you grab things from high places or would lift you up by the waist for you to grab them; out of pure instinct, he will for sure become extra protective of you; would be the big-spoon in most cases; would tease you by retracting himself using his height whenever you would lean in for a kiss.
Alastor was quick to pick up on a small habit of yours very early on – how you would always hide your smile behind your hands. When he brought it up one day, you sheepishly told him that you were insecure about your smile, which perplexed the deer-demon.
Just like now, Alastor couldn’t help but raise a brow as you hid your grin behind your palm whilst you chuckled at one of his corny jokes. “Now, now, this won’t do, my dear!” He clicks his tongue, waving a disapproving finger at you, “why must you always hide that gorgeous smile of yours?”
A blush suddenly breaks out across your cheeks. You unconsciously found yourself looking down, embarrassed by the flattering remark, only for his finger to guide you back up by your chin. He then leans in but stops only centimetres away, his face dangerously close to yours.
Alastor’s grin only grew wider, seeing how helpless and small you looked – eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and yet filled with anticipation. You looked so, so nervous. And yet, it was so endearing that he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms.
“Now, does the ground look much more entertaining than I, dear? I don’t think it can make you smile the way I do.” He teases, his voice intentionally dropping an octave deeper. God, he was going to be the death of you.
#lucifer magne x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#alastor#hazbin hotel
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like royalty
om boys x reader
wc : 1.k
warnings : none, just lovesick boys and their lovesick mc (and cute little Luke and his cute little mc)
synopsis : instances in which you treated them so good they felt like pampered royalty
a/n : the 10k special is hereeee! tysm, once again! <33
Leaning down, resting your knees on the dirty ground, just so you could tie his shoe for him
His steel composure allows Lucifer to remain rather unbothered, but you know better. You hear the way his breath hitches, his eyes widening just a fraction at seeing you so casually drop to your knees. He's at loss for words as he watches your fingers swiftly grab his shoelaces and begin tying them back into a neat bow. Lucifer doesn’t even try to hide the faint blush coating his skin when you stand back up- instead, he takes a moment to just bask in the pride he can feel building inside of you before he chuckles and shakes his head fondly.
“My, Mc…I do appreciate the bold gesture, but now you’ve got your knees all dirty..how shall I repay you, hm?”
†
Unlike the firstborn, Diavolo, while he does have steel composure, forgets the definition of it as soon as you’re telling him to wait a second before crouching down beside him. He’s used to being tailored to, of course, but there’s just something about seeing your knees scrubbing the dirt and your tongue poking out as you concentrate on tying his shoe that makes him melt. Once you’re finished, he’ll lift you off the ground himself and brush off your knees, blush as dark as his hair while he laughs loudly.
“You’re always so full of surprises! That did affect me quite badly, I must say…though allow me to do the same for you next time.”
†
The sound (see: squawk) that escapes Mephisto is completely undignified. He’s absolutely embarrassed, especially at the tingling sensation he feels on his hand where you’d lightly smacked it when he went to tie his shoe himself before dropping to your knees to do it instead. The gravel beneath you crunches as you shift to get up, making his hand dart to help and pull you close to him; he’s regained his composure now, but his words are still low and flustered, even as he gives you a smirk.
“Well, aren't you just sweet. Nobody’s ever gone through such lengths to simply tie my shoe, but you’ll be compensated, don’t worry. Come here, Mc…”
†
Stone faced as ever, Raphael just stares down at you with an almost confused look. He goes to say something about your clothes getting dirty on the floor everyone’s been walking on, but his words die in his throat when you peer up at him with a lovesick smile. Almost in a trance, he watches you carefully loop his shoelaces and tie them tautly before standing back up; only when his hand subconsciously finds the curve of your waist does he snap back to reality and give you a small smile of his own (he prays you’ll ignore the blush spreading across his cheeks…you do. For now).
“A-ah, Mc-! I…please, allow me to wipe your knees off, they’ve gotten dirty from the flooring…you really didn’t have to, you know, I can tie my own shoe…thank you..”
Grabbing his hand with a featherlight touch and bringing it up to your face so you could place a soft, slow kiss to his knuckles
Mammon’s base reaction is to jolt and scold you for teasing him, but his eyes dart to how your pupils are practically in the shape of hearts as you press your lips against his skin, and suddenly the loud mouthed second born is going quiet. The tiniest of gasps escape him as you begin to pull away, hand instinctively curling around yours and bringing it to rest over his thumping heart to keep you that much closer; the lovesick chuckle he gives you makes you melt.
“What’re ya— o-oh…Mc…d’ya even know what you're doin’ to me, actin’ like that? Where are ya goin’? C’mere…come closer..want another kiss- how about on the lips this time, yeah?”
†
Satan melts right through your fingers, eyes lidding and dumb little smile crossing his face. He is a sucker for this stuff and the murmur of your name is so breathless and adoration-filled. He’ll quietly demand another kiss, carefully watching your lips press against his skin before he’s flipping your hands around and kissing the back of yours instead. He relishes in the blush on your face but quickly turns a bashful shade of pink when you comment on how pretty that lovesick expression of his was.
“Mc…give me another one..yeah. You make my heart race, you know that? And you’re so pretty when you look at me like that..fuck. W-what—? My expression…I..I can’t help it…‘s all your fault.”
†
The squeal that escapes Asmo nearly leaves you deaf, but he just looks so charming with his giddy grin and sparkling eyes that you decide to overlook it (like always). He’s absolutely delighted at the action and begs you to do it again so he can take a picture for devilgram, but once the surprise is over, he just looks at you so softly. The pure adoration and love he sees in your eyes makes him feel like he’s floating and Azzy will be sure to shower you with kisses all over until you’re feeling the exact same.
“OHH MY! How sweet of you, hon! Let me take a picture, do it again, do it again! You’re just so full of surprises, darling, I love it! I love you. I love you so much, you know? You make my heart race~!”
†
Barbatos’ brain doesn’t catch up right away. He finishes greeting you and gets halfway through listing off the tea party spread before he actually processes the action— and that your hand is still holding his, rubbing your thumb over where you’d kissed. He stops right in the middle of the corridor and stares at you blankly, hot blush slowly rising onto his cheeks. The smile that crosses his face is completely for your eyes only (lovesick and bashful) and he’ll give you his amused chuckle before kissing your knuckles in return, bowing as he does so.
“—I have also prepared a selection of-!!…you..you are very sly, Mc…I can’t say I mind it though. I do hope you’ll keep the way you affect me just between us, however…can’t have anyone else seeing, hm? Shall I return the favor?”
†
You and Solomon teased each other back and forth quite often but this he wasn’t expecting. And he couldn’t just play it off- not with so much infatuation plastered over your face as you keep placing kisses along his hand. He averts his eyes shyly, darting back and forth as he tries to form words, but…you just got him so good with that gesture, he’s absolutely tongue tied as he peers at you with his blushy face, voice actually cracking as he asks what that was for.
“I—!…I, u-uh…Mc…what- what was that for…? You drive me absolutely crazy…can you do it again..please..?”
Sliding your jacket off and wrapping it around his shoulders- even though it might not fit correctly- just because they were cold
Levi’s face is a blistering beacon of cherry and he takes a brief moment to malfunction before shakily gripping at the fabric around his shoulders, looking up at you with wide eyes. It’s something he’s seen straight from an anime, something he’s always wanted to experience, but now that he actually has, his soul is leaving his body because your cute little smile is just too…cute! He won’t give the jacket back, though, instead choosing to bury himself deeper in the material with a stuttered ‘thank you’.
“H-h-huh?! O-oh, Mc…you..T-t-thank y-you!! ‘S really soft…’n s-smells like you..ah-! I-I mean-! Don’t listen to me, I’m j-just rambling! Thank you again!”
†
More than likely too big for your jacket, Beel is confused at first and will ask what you’re doing and tilt his head cutely. Though, when you simply say ‘you were cold’, he turns all smiley and blushy and even lets out a little giggle. That sweet little closed eye smile of his is beaming as he thanks you and insists you pile up in his arms to share the warmth, because aren’t you going to get cold too? Being wrapped up in your scent and being able to wrap you up in his sounded like a perfect deal to him.
“Hm? Oh, Mc…what’re you doing?…oh. Eheh…thank you! Won’t you be cold, though? Here, come closer, we’ll keep each other warm. Yeah…yeah I like having you close. I like you— I love you!”
†
Belphie’s half asleep mind doesn’t really register it until he wakes up a few hours later. His lidded eyes land on the sight of your jacket, brain slowly registering before a sleepy- giddy- smile crosses his face. He’ll drag his sluggish body to wherever you are and drop his weight onto you, mumbling his gratitude and how lucky he is to have you without the fully-conscious filter being there. He’ll hold that jacket hostage until it has to be washed— it just made him feel so loved, he didn’t want to let it go.
“Mmm…mh? Mc…? -yawn- Mc? Mm..thank you..you’re so good to me…love you s’much..come sleep with me now…wanna feel your warmth too. No- wanna keep the jacket..let me keep it..please?”
†
Simeon blinks, eyes a bit wide as he stares at you before a bubbly laugh escapes him while he rubs the back of his neck and thanks you. He was quite surprised at the action, but completely delighted, and finds himself grinning stupidly before he can help it. He feels so fuzzy and warm and just wants to giggle and kick his feet— but he won’t…not outwardly, anyway. That giddy smile stays, though, all for everyone to see as he parades around with your jacket over his shoulders.
“Oh, Mc, thank you! You really didn’t have to…but I appreciate it nonetheless- you’re so loving and kind, you never fail to make my day. I hope you’ll let me do something for you in return to show my appreciation?”
†
The first passing thought in Luke’s head is to deny he’s even cold, but when he sees that it’s you draping your jacket over him, he decides that yes, he is in fact freezing. And maybe he could just snuggle up to you as well… (Mc cuddles are the best!). He’ll happily exclaim to anyone that the jacket is yours and beam because he’s just so thrilled to be your friend and he’s just…so precious.
“Waaahh!! Thank you, Mc! Are you sure you’re not an Angel? Hehe! Look, guys! Mc gave me their jacket! Aren't they the best?!”
#obey me x reader#om x reader#lucifer x reader#om lucifer#mammon x reader#om mammon#leviathan x reader#om levi#satan x reader#om satan#asmo x reader#om asmo#beel x reader#om beel#belphie x reader#om belphie#diavolo x reader#om diavolo#barbatos x reader#om barbatos#simeon x reader#om simeon#om luke x reader#om raphael x reader#om raphael#solomon x reader#om solomon#mephisto x reader#om mephisto
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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 1.
tags: dubcon
-
You duck behind a stack of boxes when you hear Johnny come whistling into the warehouse.
He shouts your name out somewhere off on the other side of the warehouse, voice echoing through the building. You keep absolutely still, fingers clamped around the clipboard that’s pressed close to your chest. Even your breathing slows, open-mouthed so as to keep it almost soundless. It’s strategic. You’ve gotten good at making yourself invisible back here, practically melting into the stack of boxes.
A minute or two goes by with repeated calls of your name, echoing from different parts of the warehouse like Johnny’s making the rounds. Searching for you. He’s probably been looking around the store for ages, with his track record. Someone must have let it slip that you were assigned to inventory today instead of being out on the floor.
You only let out a sigh when it’s been long enough that any reasonable person might have given up on trying to find you in the loading dock.
“Hiding from someone?” a deep voice asks from behind you.
Your gut all but self-ejects. When you turn around, he’s standing there in the same bright blue shirt that you also wear. His is stretched tight across his chest though, like it’s a size too small. You wonder sometimes if it’s on purpose. It’s hard not to let your eyes wander, but by now you’ve trained yourself to keep your eyes level when speaking to Johnny.
“Nope,” you squeak. “Just…you know…counting. Counting boxes and…stacks.”
He laughs, loud enough to make you startle. It’s far too enthusiastic, like you told a particularly funny joke instead of stumbling over your words and you still don’t actually know if he finds you funny or not.
“Cool,” Johnny says, taking a step closer to you. The clipboard doesn’t feel sufficient enough to put any real distance between the two of you. “Thought I could maybe come hang out with ye back here. Dinnae want ye to feel lonely.”
“Nope, not lonely at all. Totally peachy. Actually glad I could catch a break from…everyone.” You take a step back.
He follows you, another step forward. “Aye, dinnae worry, I get what ye mean. Some of the others—” he whistles, “—right buggers. Glad to catch a break myself as well.”
A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be…out in the front? I, uh, don’t want you to get in trouble with Jeff—”
“Ah, Jeff’s fine, kitty, dinnae worry about me,” Johnny coos, sounding pleased as punch. He takes you at face value instead of reading into the set of your jaw and the way you keep inching away from him as he gets closer to you, convinced that you genuinely in your heart care about whether he gets written up or not. “They fuckin’ love me, ye ken? Think he wants ta take me out for lunch tomorrow, but told him I’d only go if he invited ye as well.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” you whisper instead of screaming. You’re doing that a lot these days. Talking through the scream bubbling behind your front teeth.
“Would ye want ta then?” he asks, suddenly in your face, three quick steps bridging the gap between you in barely a second, hardly enough time for you to blink. You blink and it’s just Johnny, in startling definition. Thick eyebrows and scar across his chin, the bridge of his nose perfect like he’s never broken it before. “Grab some lunch with me?”
“I, uh…I brought my lunch from home.”
“It’s a’right, I’ll buy it for ye, hen. Dinnae need ta waste your money.” Sometimes when he talks to you, he gets like this, fervent and almost desperate. He seems only half aware of it. “Ye like that mediterranean place nearby, right? Seen ye go there once or twice; wanted ta tag along, but dinnae want ta alarm ye.”
“You saw me go there?” you repeat.
“Aye, happened ta glance out the window when ye were on your lunch break. Back before management changed my break time. Cheers for that as well because it was really startin’ ta bother me, ye ken? Not being able ta eat with my favourite coworker.”
You never know how to respond when Johnny lets on a bit too much about how he feels about you. Sometimes he slips up and it comes rushing out, a big spool of thread unwinding in front of you.
“Yeah, well…I don’t know about today but maybe…” you say, trailing off. There’s a danger in just brushing him off, you feel.
“Tomorrow then,” he decides, grin still splitting his face. “I’m no’ on the schedule, but I can drop by at your lunch break and go with ye. How’s that sound?”
“Well, you know…it sounds…” He’s close enough now that if you lean forward, you’ll faceplant in between his pecs. Despite everything, you have to slightly fight the urge. Sometimes you think it’d be easier if he weren’t so absurdly gorgeous. It doesn’t make any of his actions okay, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour just because he’s pretty, yet still he pulls you in somehow, magnetic. “It sounds—you know, actually, I think Jeff wanted to talk to me about something, so if you don’t mind—”
Johnny tries to say something, but you manage to duck around him and scurry off, disappearing into the stacks of boxes before pressing forward until you burst out the main doors out of the warehouse. It leads to a hall that goes towards the store, but you haul it to the women’s washroom instead. The one place he can’t follow you inside.
In the washroom, you can finally breathe. Resting your hands on either side of the sink, you look into the mirror where haggard eyes with deep circles underneath stare back at you.
You flinch when one of the toilets flush and the stall door opens, another coworker stepping out.
“Did I hear Johnny outside?” she asks, taking the sink beside you to wash her hands. You nod, still tongue tied. “He really follows you everywhere, huh?”
For a second, your shoulders relax. “God, I know, he’s always just hovering—”
She cuts you off, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky. He’s so hot, it’s unreal. I can’t believe he works here, like that’s insane. I’d kill to have him as obsessed with me as he is with you.”
“He’s—he’s not into me, he’s just…you know, he just hovers.”
The water shuts off. Your coworker shoots you a dubious look, almost mocking. “Yeah, alright. Sure. Not into you. Not like he hangs off your every word. You don’t have to be humble—we’re already jealous. It’s like rubbing it in when you pretend like it’s totally normal.”
You slump, defeated, when she leaves without drying her hands. It’s moot to try and commiserate with anyone. They don’t see him the way you do, not for who he is. Your coworkers love Johnny; you’ve seen someone genuinely fistpump after being scheduled with him.
They don’t see any of the weird shit though. They don’t see the way he insists on walking you to your car well into the evening after a closing shift together. They don’t notice the way Johnny laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent.
They’re never around to see him ask if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. They’ve never seen him beg management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch.
Sometimes you look at him and think, this guy should not be in the Appliance section of a big box store. Johnny should be on the front cover of magazines, in commercials for toothpaste, acting in Hallmark movies, or maybe hand modelling for obscenely ornate watch companies that cost the equivalent of a mortgage—not handing out free samples of sliced cheese.
That was then.
It starts like this: an overeager sales associate who butts his way to the front of the line on your first day.
You think at first that you’re golden. It seems like a sweet deal—an easy enough job, maybe not what you went to school for, but still something to pass the time and not too backbreaking. Plus, the guy shaking your hand and chatting up a storm in front of you is making you melt inside. He’s easy on the eyes—all bright smiles, effortless charm, either just brushing or exactly six feet, and built. Broad shouldered and lean.
Johnny’s a model employee as well—knows the handbook inside and out, and shows you the ropes on your first day along with the assistant manager giving you a tour of the store, which is helpful because there’s at least three floors that you could easily get lost on. He walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude, and you find out early on that management loves him because of his frankly incredible sales record.
(And you get it too; you can’t imagine anyone looking into those gorgeous blue eyes and turning him down.)
He's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some “Jobs for Vets” program that they just rolled out. The guy can also stack things on a shelf like no one's business, products lined up with military precision (hence the ex-military status).
All in all, you can’t help feeling like for once in your life, you didn’t draw the short stick.
Then one day, you’re alone with Johnny in the breakroom early in the morning before the store has opened yet and he turns to you with a wide, boyish grin and says apropos of nothing, “Named my fleshlight after you.”
You think your brain skips a couple tracks like a record player. You rewind and replay what was just said to you. There’s no two ways about it—you must have misheard him. Of course you did because surely your coworker of two months didn’t just look you in the eyes and say with a sweet sunshine smile that he named his sex toy after you.
He doesn’t laugh, just stands there and smiles while stirring sugar into his coffee. He takes it black. You take note of that because the brain still has to work when the mind shuts down momentarily, so you use it instead to catalogue things around the breakroom. One of the motivational posters hanging near the door is hung a bit off-centre. The fluorescent lightbulb on the far side of the room is dimmer than the others. Johnny’s eyes have a little light spot in them like the tip of an ocean wave.
“Excuse me?” you ask, dumbfounded. Your voice sounds hollow even to you.
“I named her after ye,” he repeats, not a trace of shame in his voice. “Used ta not have a name at all, but figured since I say it so much when I’m enjoyin’ her, she might as well share it with ya.”
He stares at you after saying that, letting it hang in the air. Your brain chooses that moment to come back online and all it can do is load that image of Johnny home alone with his fleshlight, toes curled in his sheets and the muscles of his legs straining as he moans your name. All you can do is give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking.
Then, something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, laughing and clapping you on the arm before wandering off to the men's apparel section.
It leaves you reeling for the rest of the day, sure you imagined it. It recontextualizes a few things for you though. He’s always been on the handsy side, verging on inappropriate, but skirting just enough around the edges of it that you usually brush off Johnny’s weird behaviour. Chalk it up to annoying little brotherly tendencies. You know he has a few older sisters anyway; you figured it was just how he related to women in his environment.
Not so.
It escalates after that initial escalation. Not that things started off on an appropriate note, but at least before you could rationalize most of his quirks.
Now it’s this: his hand on your lower back during work hours when you’re busy helping a customer and he sidles up next to you, pinkie brushing so low on your back that you worry for a second that he might slip it down the back of your pants. Lifting you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. A complete misuse of his height. He digs his fingers into your sides and never lets you go right away when he puts you down.
“Aw shit, bonnie,” he coos when you complain about it hurting you. “Dinnae mean ta hurt ye. Want me to give ye a little massage in the breakroom?”
You learn quickly that there’s no point in complaining about his behaviour to anyone. You can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. He's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet, they say. They defend him almost viciously; the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you to stand there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. That you'll just have to teach him better.
There’s not much you can do besides grin and bear it. You can hope one day that you'll get transferred; you don't have much hope for him being transferred. Not with how endeared he is to management.
When you finally open the door, ready to leave the bathroom and get back to work, you nearly scream when Johnny lurches off the wall across from the bathroom door where he’s been leaning. Waiting for you.
“C’mon, hen,” he says, all teeth. “Lemme walk ye back ta work.”
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x you#soap/reader#ikea soap#john mactavish#soap mw2#soap mactavish#soap cod
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18+ Minors DNI
How about an under cover mission with Bucky that gets comprised because he sees the high slit in your dress, the way it hugs your body so perfectly and those tits— he couldn’t let you leave the safe house in that.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: unholy amount of dirty talk, like oh lord it just don’t stop, a lil smidge of possessive buck.
He’s got a deep dark look in this GIF that drives me WILD.
“This isn’t happening” he groaned into the earpiece once he ripped his eyes from you, only for you to walk in front of him and give him a view of your perfect ass wrapped in black. He can feel his slacks becoming uncomfortable the more he continues to blare his steel blues into your figure.
“Bucky?” You turned to look at him after sensing his eyes on you and, shit, the fucking whine in your tone, you were doing it on purpose, weren’t you? You wanted him to fuck this whole mission up just for a piece of that ass and yes, yes you did.
“You’re not wearing that” his voice strained as he struggled to maintain his regular grumpy old man façade. A darkness falling over his eyes that only you knew— that possessive darkness that melted into his eyes whenever he thought they’d be other eyes on you but his.
“What do you mean Buck? The dress? It’s just the get-up, it’ll be fine for a few hours”, nothing got past your eyes. You saw his blue hues run themselves down your body, the way he shifted uncomfortably in those trousers.
He sighed, hands moved quickly, pulling the earpiece from his ear before everything about him invaded your senses. The way he ran his nose up your neck to the top of your head, savouring that oh-so-familiar scent mixed with the artificial perfume you’d been tasked to wear.
“Buck!-“
“Shhh, I told you sweetheart…. You’re not leaving in that. At least not until I can make sure everyone knows you’re mine” His voice was husky, his cologne rich and his overall presence domineering— your legs wobbled almost dropping you to the floor before his thigh slot itself between them. His throat growled at the feeling of your clothed heat against him.
“I feel that pretty pussy, she doesn’t wanna leave either”. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, his right hand trailed down from its position on your hip to your thigh, the other following suit not long after. The different temperatures in both hands caused a desperate whine to fall from your lips and a buck of your hips against the scratchy fabric before you could stop it.
“You’re a good girl ain’t you? My good little girl— jump for me baby” His hot breath fogged up your senses, till everything was him. It was all Bucky.
With your legs now wrapped around his waist your heat pressed perfectly against him, his control over himself was slipping dramatically. He didn’t care about the damn mission anymore, just you.
“Fuck baby I’m losing my mind, you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Corrupting this poor old man’s brain, making him think of nothing more than that fucking cunt huh?” He enunciated the last few words with heavy snaps of hips into you, his hardness rubbing you just right drawing weak little moans from that pretty mouth.
“Good girl, all desperate for me… you want that cock hmm? Tell me you want it” he groaned against your mouth when you rubbed that heat against him.
“I want it, I want it please” fuck you were so pitiful, you’d promised yourself you’d never beg for a man yet here you were— rubbing your little body all over the front of Bucky’s slacks and begging him to do god knows what to your body.
“You’re so sweet, even threw in a little please for me” his brows quirked as his left hand ventured down between your bodies. The cool metal wrapped around the now sodden lace sent a pleasured shock throughout your body, the cold knuckles brushing against your swollen nub, a soft little ‘fuck’ falling from his smug lips at the feeling of your dripping pussy as he pushed the panties to the side.
“You’re so ready, my little lady all soaked for me— fuck you’re driving me insane I can’t think of anything but that pussy” he mumbled pulling himself from his fly and jerking his length with the essence your hole had left on the metal of his fingers.
“You ready baby?” His words were uncharacteristically sweet as he rubbed his spongy tip over your little bundle of nerves before tapping himself on it softly, biting back a smile when your body jerked at the action.
“Mhmm” you could only nod and moan, that was enough for him. He was thick and long as he pushed in, even after countless nights together you’d never get over the way he filled you.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He held onto your hips tightly as his sweaty head fell onto your breasts. “fucking— almost came right there” he moaned before bucking up into you at a glorious pace. The movement of his hips was overwhelming, the cold metal of his fly brushing over your clit at every jerk of his hips, you’d be on cloud 9 before you knew it.
“That’s it, clench around me baby, milk me nice and good” fuck his words were filthy, far different than the Bucky he’d show everyone else— nah this was just for you.
“Shit sweetie! I’m close” he choked on a moan and plunged deep into you, your heat fluttering with its release at the feeling of his cum pressing against your cervix.
The room silenced of all sounds except your heavy breathing and Bucky’s lips nibbling and sucking on your neck, leaving the marks he promised he would.
“You know we can hear you right?” Sam mumbled from the earpiece but your lips were too busy on Bucky’s to care, you’d deal with it all later right now you had Bucky and that’s all that mattered.
-
It’s feral, it’s devious, it’s Bucky I can’t help myself.
#bucky barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky fanfic#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#marvel#bucky smut#mcu bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#beefy bucky
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currently doing one of my most hated chores which is laundry and it got me thinking.
It's bloody laundry day again. You've got no extra clothes to really wear apart from a loose, grey, too thin pajama shirt and the shorts it came with.
Tragic, but not the end of the world. No one goes to wash their clothes looking like they're right off the runway. And it's also far too early for the laundromat to be packed.
You'll survive.
Slamming your trunk closed, you straighten and wipe the sweat that's beaded on your forehead. Damn muggy air. Even at this hour, the weather chooses violence.
Pulling the door open, you step inside and hiss out a breath through your teeth. In here it's not any better. And there's only one big fan on, out of the many that are in here.
God you hate laundry day.
At least it looks empty.
Tucking your hair away in a makeshift, sloppy bun, you drag your dirty clothes basket to a washer and throw them in.
Next is your detergent and when you pick up the fabric softener, it's almost empty.
God fucking damnit.
And the person that sells stuff isn't in behind the desk.
Slamming the lid closed, you kick your hamper into against the washer and walk toward the cursed fan that probably only circulates the hot ass air in here. But with the way your pathetic shirt is turning damp and sheer from the sweat, and short strands of hair that are starting to glue themselves to the back of your neck, worse is nothing.
And then you're standing in the corner of the laundromat, getting hot air weakly blown into your flushed face. "Goddamn it's hot. Useless fucking fan is just here for decor, i think."
"Ah think so too."
You choke back a scream and spin on the balls of your feet to the deep, accented voice behind you.
A muscular pretty boy with hair the color of damp soil and blue eyes that sparkle brightly, even under the dim light of the place sits with his back to a washer that's currently going.
Devastatingly handsome. And you've been throwing a hissy fit for the past half hour, only to appear in front of him resembling a drowned rat.
Flatlining right now would be great.
"Damned hot in here, alrigh'. Isnae tha' so, Simon?"
Who? Oh no.
How you missed that behemoth is beyond you, but he rises from the ground like a slumbering giant. Ash brown choppy hair and dark, sharp eyes with the rest of his face covered by a black cloth mask. 6'4 at least, and built like bloody fridge.
Someone kill you now.
"Johnny."
His piercing eyes cut to you before flicking back to the man on the floor.
"Get the detergent."
"Aye." Scottish, it sounds like.
You briskly walk away from them two, face burning with embarrassment, back to the washer you're using.
Today of all days, you come across these two. You could cry, honestly.
They're there for as long as you are, and you've long since gotten past your self-consciousness. If you have to melt in this stifling heat for one more second, you just might scream.
You grab your clothes from the dryer with haste, haphazardly throwing them in your basket and with a quick, 'Have a good day!', you're out the door.
As you're about to get in your car, the scot comes bustling out the front door of the laundromat.
"Lass! Ah think these're yers."
What he holds in his hands has tears springing into your eyes.
Undergarments. Why the hell is he-
You can see the tall brit leaning on a machine, with his arms crossed and he's looking right at you.
The walk of shame to the pretty one is almost unbearable. Your trembling hand reaches for your garment. "Thank you."
He chuckles under his breath. "Anytime. See ye around."
How mortifying.
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how about steddie dick measuring contest but reader is the judge? if it leads to smut that’s okay but i know you’ll make it good regardless lol
author’s note: the premise is there i promise, i just used this as an excuse to write threesome smut because it started out as a funny idea and then my brain just melted at the thought of it
cw: 18+ (minors dni), heavy voyeurism, threesomes, unrequited crushes (steddie), established relationships with reader, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), mentioned virgin!eddie, steve is overly confident, eddie is a sweetheart, if i missed anything lmk
word count: 4k
It started after Steve and Eddie found out that you had been sleeping with both of them—there was never any exclusivity in your relationship, and the sex with Eddie had started innocently, taking his virginity from him on his graduation night.
Every time with Eddie was something new. He was eager to try things, learn, and it made for some of the more enjoyable sex you’ve ever had. He only lacked slightly in skill, still fumbling around most of the time and getting upset when he couldn’t make you come as easily as he’d hoped.
For Steve, it was after a long-drawn out conversation about how he couldn’t find the right women, the sex was lacking, and he just wanted something—it didn’t even have to be something either of you committed to fully, as long as you two were having fun with it. Steve still went on dates every now and then, had the occasional hookup, but he always ended up back at your place most weekends using the opportunity to vent about his hardships in trying to find a partner—most of it fell on deaf ears, because as much as Steve was a great partner, he also talked about himself way too much.
He was full of himself, to be blunt—which is why this had started the conversation you were being forced to listen to currently, both of them settled on either side of the couch. You were smushed in the center, feet propped up on the table in Eddie’s living room, hands covering your face as you rested your head against the back of the couch and let out an audible groan.
“Okay but,” Eddie begins, another tumultuous conversation that was bound to go one forever if you didn’t put an end to it, “you’ve seen both of our dicks, you be the judge.”
Steve had found a pair of your underwear on Eddie’s floor a couple weeks prior, because of course he knew they were yours. He held them up accusingly, both you and Eddie sharing an awkward glance.
You really had no choice but to come clean. Thankfully, they both took it well—actually, they didn’t have any problem with it, and that’s what you couldn’t wrap your brain around. Not at first, at least.
“It’s okay,” Steve comforts, squeezing your shoulder, “be honest, Eddie can take it.”
You always hung out as a group now, never separately—and you couldn’t ignore the obvious tension that has festered. Truthfully, it felt like an attack on you. They talked about you when you weren’t around, you knew that much, having walked in on them in the middle of a particularly heated conversation about what made you come the quickest. Eddie knew it was oral, but Steve swore you faked it half the time just so he’d skip to the sex, always gawking about how good his dick felt—how big it was.
And obviously, it had boosted his ego through the fucking roof.
“Oh, fuck you.” Eddie insults lightly, leaning in to whisper against your ear, “Come on, sweetheart—let him have it.”
“Oh my god, who cares?” You ask redundantly, exasperated at the topic and almost shouting it out. “The average is—what, five? I’m pretty confident you’re both over that so what does it matter?”
“No way Munson is packing over five.” Steve nags, pointing lazily at the long haired, wide eyed boy at your side. Eddie rolls his eyes, scoffing at the comment.
“We get it, King Steve’s got a big dick.” Eddie mocks, throwing his hands up.
You snort at the nickname, “Don’t call him that.” You tell Eddie, watching as Steve’s face falls slightly. “See—he’s too confident.”
“Why are you avoiding the question then?” Steve counters, growing increasingly irritated. It’s not directed toward you, or at Eddie even, he just wants to get to the bottom of it.
“Why are you so worried that I might say it’s Eddie?” You tease, hearing Eddie howl a laugh behind you.
“Is it?” Eddie asks after he regains his composure, “I don’t even care at this point, I just need to rub it in Steve’s face.”
“Fuck this,” Steve says in a clipped tone, “Whip it out, Munson.”
“Excuse you?” Eddie asks in a subtle shock, eyes follow Steve as he stands from the couch. “Take me to fuckin’ dinner first, Steve.”
“I need to pee.” You say quickly, making a weak excuse to escape to the bathroom.
Steve holds up his hand, “No, no—you have to judge.”
You stare up at him with comically wide eyes, growling slightly under your breath when he doesn’t relent, sinking back down on the couch.
“Fine.” You agree, “Hurry up.”
Eddie flicks his gaze between you and Steve before finally settling on you, “Do you—are we actually entertaining this?”
“To be fair, I really don’t know.”
It was the honest truth.
Steve fiddles with his pants as Eddie moves a little slower, more hesitant to expose himself. Steve grew up in sports, he was used to changing in front of other guys, nudity around other’s wasn’t foreign to him—Eddie was obviously less willing, having grown up under constant scrutiny and bullying there was valid reasoning on why he didn’t want to. You gave him a look, touching his wrist as he reached for his belt.
“Steve, I don’t think this is a good idea.” You tell him as he lingers behind you, eyes still locked on Eddie as you turn to him, but something in Eddie’s face changes, a subtle smirk growing.
“Gotta shut him up somehow, right?” Eddie asks.
And they’re both on the edge of shoving their pants down, gaze noticeably locked on one another before you’re panicking, arms thrown up in an attempt to halt whatever was about to commence.
“Wait, fuck—“ You sigh loudly, slumping as they both look at you, “this isn’t fair.”
The silence is telling, both boys completely at your command.
It’s almost impossible not to have fun with this, especially if they weren’t about to let up over the whole ordeal.
“I mean—Steve is definitely a shower,” You admit, “but I don’t think it’s fair unless both of you are—“
“Hard?” Eddie finishes for you, and Steve catches on immediately, that mischievous grin matches yours.
“If you wanted a kiss so bad all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” Steve replies with that puff in his chest, always so sure of himself.
You giggle softly, tongue poking at the inside of your cheek as you lean away from Steve’s reach, looking over at Eddie and back at him.
“Not me, Steve.” You reply sickeningly sweet, eye flicking up knowingly toward Eddie, bottom lip pulled between your teeth.
You weren’t oblivious to the interest that Steve tried so desperately to hide any time he was around Eddie—the teasing, the lingering looks, the constant need to piss him off just to keep him talking. Eddie was just as bad, constantly feeding into whatever game Steve was playing at. They had been friends before, somewhat—but whatever this had become, it brought you all closer. Though, it wasn’t your fault that they were so inherently stubborn and avoiding the fact that they, for a lack of better words, wanted to fuck each other.
And maybe that was a strong way to put it, but they almost seemed scared—scared that it would make you feel a certain way. They were both always so careful with your feelings, two of your closest friends, but your annoyance was at it’s peak and you really couldn’t take it any longer.
“Each other.” You say simply, wagging your finger between the two. “But, of course, drop the pants first.”
“That’s not funny.” Steve retorts.
Eddie shrugs, “I mean, I don’t care.”
You shrug at Steve, pointing at Eddie. “You heard him—get to smoochin’, Steve.”
Eddie laughs at Steve’s shy hesitation, yanking gently at the open hem of his pants, fingers grazing his half-hard cock.
“Come on, big boy,” Eddie teases, smirk pulling at his features, “all talk and no game—seriously?”
That’s what does Steve in, never one to back down from a challenge. He cradles Eddie’s head the same way he does yours, fingers disappearing into his long curls as he pushes toward him, slotting his top lip between Eddie’s, sucking at his bottom gingerly.
It’s just a taste—something to entice Eddie, but it doesn’t take much. He pulls back with a breath, locking eyes with him for a brief moment before diving in fully, tongue splitting Eddie’s mouth open without hesitation, hands idly working at his jeans to shove them down, underwear following as he steps out of them in a fumble, the fabric getting caught at his feet. Eddie takes a little longer, belt snapping in the air as he yanks it from the loops and strips himself too.
“Shirts too?” Steve asks, not directed at any particular person, but you answer seeing as how Eddie is so clearly distracted by Steve’s lips, his neck, the soft pattern of freckles that trace his face.
“Yeah, yeah—“ Your own breath is caught in your throat, despite how good you are at keeping your composure.
This was definitely meant as a joke, maybe a quick peck or two before you’d put an end to their misery—but that wasn’t the case at all.
You felt like you were intruding, but your body was frozen in place and part of you forget the entire cause of this, glancing down at their slowly hardening cocks, shirts being simultaneously ripped over their heads before they fell right back into, Eddie’s hands squeezing along the side of Steve’s neck as he kissed him, letting out the soft sated noises he makes when he’s enjoying himself, eyes closed shut.
Steve’s hand grazes carefully over his own cock, his fingers barely grazing the head of Eddie’s as he squeezes at the base, bringing his fingers up to drag over the tip, openly groaning into Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie chuckles, biting playfully at Steve’s lip, emitting a strained grunt from his chest—and then he’s speaking to you, startling you out of the trance you’ve fallen into, watching two of your best friend’s going after each other so eagerly.
“What’s the verdict, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, pulling away slightly to look at you. He sees the gape in your mouth, the glaze over your eyes and he can’t help it, “Oh shit—you’re into this, aren’t you?”
Steve turns his attention too, “Is that even a question? Look at her.”
“Someone had to force you two to stop ignoring what was obviously there,” You defend, “—I’m not gonna choose, by the way.”
“Oh, come on.” Steve complains, pulling away from Eddie briefly—he’s so unashamed in his nudity that he turns to you, “seriously���what’s it gonna take?”
You shrug stubbornly.
Steve glances over at Eddie, whose pupils are blown to hell with arousal.
“Your bed big enough for three, Munson?” Steve asks, sending you a vivacious smile that makes you blush, shrinking away from him slightly. “We’re gonna settle this.”
“Uh, yeah—should be.” Eddie nods, “But if we’re about to settle who’s better in bed, that’s a given.”
It was definitely not a given—because as much as you’d like to go for one or the other, they were making it impossible.
“Is this too much?” Eddie asks, shifting between your legs as he stretches your thighs open. Steve’s settled behind you, propping you up slightly as he tilts your head up, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation toward this.
“I feel like I should be asking you two that question,” You admit, smiling softly as Steve tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, smiling down at you, “this is my fault.”
“You good with this, Harrington?” Eddie asks idly, kissing at the inside of your thigh before nipping at the skin, causing you to squirm, gasping involuntarily.
Steve nods, making an affirming noise.
“You think you can handle both of us?” Steve asks endearingly, though it’s edged with something else
“At the same time?” You ask incredulously, “No fuckin’ way—“
Eddie’s tongue slides through the center of your cunt, biting gently at your folds. “I don’t think that’s what he means.”
“Good to know it’s on your mind though,” Steve comments, “maybe we’ll try that next time.”
Eddie pulls away briefly, laughing into the apex of your thigh. Steve’s fingers trailing down your bare chest, over the pudge of your stomach until his fingers reach your clit, rubbing slow circles until he can feel your breath starting to quicken. Eddie dives back in soon after, his tongue dipping into your entrance, lapping up the thick juices, sounding shamefully wet already. His nose nudges Steve’s finger, the pressure it applies is fucking sinful, causing you to moan openly, a hand wrapping around Steve’s bicep for support. His eyes never leave your face, so when your eyes go searching, he’s right there waiting.
“So, here’s the plan,” Steve explains—and considering he’s a lot more experienced than both of you, it makes sense, “Eddie’s gonna fuck you first, then me—then you’ll have to make your decision, alright?”
“No promises.” You mumble, before Steve’s nudging your face back up again, eyes darkening.
“You will.” Steve decides, “Trust me.”
Eddie moves up, leaning back on his thighs as he rustles around in his drawer for the spare box of condoms—because in hindsight, there was no way he could’ve prepared for this. So, of course, he’s all out.
“Hey—it’s fine,” You assure him, hand pulling his face toward you, “I trust you—considering I’ve been on birth control for the past year I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
“You always make me wear condoms.” Steve grumbles from above, earning a light shove from you.
“Well, Eddie isn’t going around fucking other girls.” You tell him lightly—it doesn’t come off as catty, more matter of fact. Eddie laughs, closing the drawer.
“So, one point me,” Eddie says, pointing toward himself, before shoving a giant goose egg at Steve, “Harrington, zero.”
The conversation dies rather quickly as Eddie settles back down, nudging the head of his cock at your entrance, teasingly pressing it along your clit, sliding up through your folds in an effort to drive you mad—it always does, his face lighting up every time. Steve’s not watching you anymore either, eyes lingering toward Eddie, roaming the expanse of his body, his face. He’s never watched another man fuck before, despite his confidence. Steve’s had a threesomes before, though very few and far between, never like this. His sexuality wasn’t something he always openly discussed, no one ever questioned it either. And truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he even knew what it was. But, he was attracted to you—and Eddie.
Eddie pushes in slowly, face scrunching up in concentration as it always does—it’s almost like Steve wasn’t even there to him, his mouth coming down to latch onto your neck, kiss you gently, savor the sweet taste of your skin. Sex with Eddie is always slower, more sensual, and maybe you could enjoy it if Steve wasn’t snickering above you so flippantly.
“Dude,” Eddie complains, thrusts slowing as he glances up at Steve briefly before glancing down at you helplessly, “either get busy or get out.”
“Actually,” You pipe up, looking at Steve, “talk to him, Steve—god knows you never shut up when we’re fucking.”
Steve snorts softly, peering up at Eddie from underneath his lashes, smiling dangerously.
“It’s nice, yeah?” Steve inquires, eyebrows jutting up slightly in question, nodding toward you. “Probably the best you’ve had.”
Eddie laughs weakly, his thrusts increasing slightly as he pulls at your thighs, hooking them around his hips more securely. He was gawking up at Steve, leaving you to watch the show with baited breath, eyes squeezing shit every now and then when Eddie hit that particular spot inside of you.
“It’s the only,” Eddie admits, “but it’s fuckin’ perfect. Pussy’s fuckin’ perfect.”
And he’s never been a savant with words, but damn if that doesn’t send an immediate jolt of heat to your core, moaning brokenly.
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” Steve asks you, breaking his connection with Eddie briefly to glance down, “I’m not even kissing him and it’s driving you crazy.”
You nod dumbly, Steve’s attention flicking back toward Eddie.
“Tell me how she feels.”
Eddie scoffs lightly at that. Eddie’s always talkative during sex, but not in the same way Steve is—Steve is always about praise and making you blush after every other word, while Eddie has no ability to keep his burgeoning thoughts inside, telling you something annoying about his day or his favorite song that week; it’s all very mundane but it’s Eddie.
“Tight, fuck—“ He sighs, gripping your hip harshly as he moved his hips into you faster, face scrunching up slightly as he glared at Steve, who’s smirk hasn’t faded at all, “god, warm too. So fuckin’ warm and soft—“
You whimper desperately, finger squeezing into Steve’s forearm as Eddie thrusts into you, shoving you up Steve’s chest slightly, their own faces nudging together from the close proximity they were in.
Steve nods knowingly, his lips grazing Eddie’s plush ones, pulling back slightly when Eddie leans forward. “It’s not fair to her,” Steve says in a hushed tone, but you quickly respond with a shake of your head.
“Fuck, please,” You beg, “it’s so hot.”
They both laugh at that, forcing you to giggle despite how close you were to your own orgasm. Eddie presses his lips against Steve’s this time, initiating the kiss as he moves against you, fingers gripping you impossibly tighter as Steve’s tongue traces his bottom lip before slipping inside.
It’s messy, all spit and battling tongues as Eddie's hand struggles against the mattress to keep him upright, limbs shaking from execution and the coiling heat in his stomach, grunting into Steve’s open mouth.
“Gonna come,” Eddie whines, “fuck, I’m gonna come—“
“Come inside her.” He tells him.
It does Eddie in immediately, losing his rhythm. Steve’s quick, sneaky in his motions as his hand ghosts over your clit—the attention was never lacking, it’s the one thing you appreciated the most about him. Your orgasm hits you quick, fleeting, eyes connecting with Eddie briefly as he spills inside you, fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to leave bruises. Surely they would, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.
Steve rubs your arms comfortingly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as you come back down, head spinning slightly.
“Still with us?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb along the side of your cheek until you connect eyes with him, offering him a small nod. He grins, “Good, my turn.”
Eddie moves slowly, still reeling from the intensity of it all, feeling floaty as he moves to settle behind you. Steve sits up as he takes Eddie’s place in front of you, leaning back on his heels as he lifts you up into his lap, forcing a small gasp from your chest. His fingers find your cunt, rubbing through the mix of your slick and Eddie’s as he pushes it back up inside of you where it starts to spill out.
“Good girl,” He chides, “I need you to keep it all in until we’re finished.”
Steve grips the base of his cock, pushing inside you slowly as Eddie pulls your hair aside, mouthing at the line on your shoulder, your neck, lazy and gentle kisses to remind you that he’s still there.
“Oh fuck,” Steve groans, “s’not fair—you’ve been letting Munson here fuck you without a condom and deprived me of this—“
“Stipulations, Steve.” You sigh, face scrunching up as he lifts you slightly, wrapping your legs around his hips until you have no choice but to throw over the control to him.
“Can’t help that you're a whore, Harrington.” Eddie chuckles, eyes connecting briefly as removes his lips from your skin, “—tell ‘em, sweetheart. Tell Steve how fuckin’ amazing it feels to have me inside you.”
You nod in agreement, a jerky motion of your head as Steve rams into you harshly, pulling a strained whimper from your lips, adjusting your arms around his neck for purchase. Eddie pushes in impossibly closer—Steve buries his face against the other side that Eddie isn’t occupying, leaving a faint bruise in the skin before pulling away, surprisingly met with Eddie’s lips.
“So good.” You mumble, voice barely above a whisper, words failing to reach you, gasping sharply at the feeling of Eddie’s fingers pressing against your clit, still reeling from the previous orgasm. You could feel it though, that deep seated ache in your belly that was lingering there, waiting. Eddie’s other hand is pulling at Steve’s neck, tongue forcing itself past his lips and devouring him on the spot—if there was one thing about Eddie, he could take your breath away with a kiss, which was evident in the way Steve could barely keep up, having seemingly met his match with Eddie.
“Fuck, it’s too—sensitive, I’m gonna—“ You moan devastingly loud, both of them breaking briefly to attend to you—not that they weren’t already doing so, but they’re lips are puffy and red from kissing each other and they can barely keep their eyes for one another.
You’ve created a monster—but, it was a necessary evil. They had been walking around each other for weeks, tiptoeing around the topic, becoming more and more territorial over you to rile the other one up, it was only a matter of time.
“Fuck, yeah—just like that, baby.” It’s the only nickname that Steve calls you that makes your stomach flutter, his voice softer than normal. Eddie leans in too, fingers still rubbing persistently at your clit as he breaths over your ear, murmuring a soft—
“Look at him,” Eddie comments quietly, “he’s a mess.”
And he was—for a brief second, you didn’t even recognize him. Steve was normally so well managed and put together that the helpless look on his face was completely unfamiliar. His head fell back lazily, pumping into you a finally few times before he’s coming with a soft grunt, letting Eddie work you through your second orgasm—it’s overwhelming, almost too much, feeling your nails dig into the skin of Eddie’s thigh as you curse out a string of obscenities, chest heaving as you came down.
Eddie groans slightly, falling back on his mattress as you follow into a fit of laughter, neither of you able to calm yourself until Steve is settling by your side, staring you both down with a comical look of disbelief.
“So, do you have your answer now?” Eddie interjects beside how valiantly you’ve tried to avoid the topic. “Or, do we need to go again?”
And there’s only one real way out of it.
“Yeah,” You nod, “Me.”
“Oh, that’s bullshit.” Steve quickly recovers, flipping down beside you both, shuffling his pants back on lazily, while you and Eddie couldn’t be bothered. “That’s such a cop out.”
“Are you disagreeing with me?” You press further, the lilt in your voice coming off as a warning.
Eddie laughs softly behind you, “Don’t do it, Steve. You’ll regret it.”
And for once in his life, he doesn’t have a comeback.
“Okay, but back to the original question—“
“It’s Steve.” You admit, earning a dramatic gasp from Eddie, hand clutched over his chest. “Look, you two made me choose, you can’t be mad—“
“You could always try it out for yourself, Munson—if you have doubts.” Steve teases, leaning over you slightly to peer at Eddie, eyes raking his body.
“Mmm, but don’t get your ego up,” You warn him, waving a careful finger at him before pointing at Eddie, “Eddie’s technique is—“
“Are you saying I can’t fuck?” Steve huffs out a laugh, “After that?”
“Eddie’s just—eager.” You smile knowingly, watching as Eddie blushes a deep red, his hand covering himself indecently, the blood rushing to his cock again. “Like, really eager.”
Steve grins menacingly, “Clearly.”
Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#steddie x reader#steddie x reader smut#steve harrington smut#steve harring x reader#steve harrington x you#eddie munson fanfic#my writing#1kfic
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What about fluffy morning routines with Oscar, like being all domestic and cute together!
thank you for requesting x
The third time the alarm goes off you've had enough.
Oscar is the sweetest boyfriend with almost no obnoxious habits - almost. The one quirk of his you absolutely cannot stand? The sheer number of times he will snooze his alarm in the morning and fall back to sleep.
'Why don't you just set it for later?' you've asked him countless times before. He always answered with a shrug, 'No, tomorrow I am going to get up first time it rings.'
"Oz." you hum sleepily, one arm coming up to push gently on his back. "Turn it off."
He makes a sound of acknowledgement, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his phone and switch off the sound.
"Sorry, love." he says, rolling over so he's laying on his side to face you, dropping his phone in the sheets. He pulls you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. He wouldn't admit it, but this moment right here is always his favorite part of the day. Just the two of you basking in each other's presence before the day begins.
"You're gonna fall asleep again." you say, prodding his chest gently.
Oscar grumbles into your hair, hand swatting around the sheets blindly for his phone. You pick it up, placing it in his hand. Both of you wince at the harsh light in the darkened room and he turns it off again as soon as he's seen the time.
"Shit, I'm late for training."
"Yeah, wonder how that happened?" you sass back, kissing his chest.
"D'you want to come with?" He asks, tracing the freckles on your arm. You shiver at the feeling of his nails that are slightly too long again, knowing you'll need to nag him about cutting them this afternoon.
"No," you giggle. "I'm gonna stay here and go back to sleep until you're back."
"Lucky thing," Oscar sighs, sitting up in bed. "I love you." He presses a kiss to your head as you repeat his words back.
Oscar's quiet as he gets dressed and brushes his teeth, clearly making an effort not to disrupt your sleep any more than he already has. You think he's left and let yourself drift back to sleep until you hear his trainers scuffing the hallway floor and he pops back into the bedroom.
"One last kiss." He giggles cheekily, giving you two on your cheek and picking up his phone from where it laid next to his pillow. You smile softly, in-and-out of sleep but you manage to squeeze his hand and hope that says enough.
By the time Oscar comes back from training you've gotten out of bed and showered.
"Awh, what?" Oscar pouts. "At least come sit with me while I get ready?"
With anyone else, you'd scoff at their clinginess but you can't help but melt at him. It had taken Oscar a little while to open up to you and become truly comfortable when you'd begun dating. He could be a little shy and tried to ensure he was independent and not needy at first, worried about scaring you off. Now, you sit on the bathroom counter, putting on some light makeup while he showers and tells you about his current training routine.
"Oh, and I got you one of those apple danishes on my way back," he calls out from behind the glass. "It's just in the kitchen."
"Hmm," you chuckle at his sweetness. "A pastry from Pastry."
When Oscar's out the shower and dressed you hand him your necklace silently and he positions himself behind you, carefully doing up the clasp the way he did every morning you were together - to the point where you'd begun to struggle latching the chain together on your own, having to twist it to the front so you could see what you were doing.
"All good?" He asks, trying to smooth your hair back into place.
"Yeah, thank you honey." you say, giving him a smile in the mirror. He returns it with a big Oscar-smile, the one with lots of teeth and crinkles by his eyes.
"Help me make the bed?" you ask, knowing Oscar would leave it a mess if you didn't remind him.
"We're just gonna get into it again tonight and make it messy again," he'd tried to reason in the past. "Why wouldn't we just save the effort and leave it?"
You each take a side of the duvet, pulling it up and fluffing the pillows, Oscar following your lead on the correct technique.
"If you bought less pillows, this would be so much quicker." He grumbles with a grin, tossing one of the many throw pillows at you gently. "I'm your pillow anyway, you don't use one of these."
"It's to make the room look pretty." you roll your eyes. Boys.
"The room already looks the prettiest, because you're in it." Oscar says sweetly, crawling over the bed and reaching out to you. Your heart swells at his (cheesy) words and you let him pull you down onto the bed.
"Let's nap for a bit, yeah?" He says softly, nuzzling into your neck. "See if you're a good pillow too."
thank you for reading x
#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri blurb#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri smau#mclaren f1#formula 1 x y/n#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader
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If you're comfortable with doing smut, can you do a yan! best friend fic where reader says one night "I'm still a virgin" (yk because he never lets them go out) so he almost immediately changes that.
Will oblige <3
(Reader) cracked open another beer, a small frown on their tipsy face as they sat on their living room floor.
Not three hours earlier, (Reader) had been excitedly trying to sneak out of work after clocking off, hoping to do so without being caught by their best friend. (Reader) had seen their best friend getting chewed out by their management, so a small (not so) guilty part of them hoped that he would be stuck staying late to make up for whatever it was that he had done wrong. But as (Reader) silently clocked off, Max's voice right behind them startled (Reader) so bad they released a squeak.
"Why do you look so guilty?" He had meant it as a joke, but (Reader's) uncomfortable attempt at a smile caught him off guard.
"Heyyy.. I thought you were working late?"
"No? Why would I be?"
(Reader) swallowed hard, a tight smile still twitching on their lips. "Ah, the stars told me so! I knew astrology was a sham!" They replied sarcastically, unable to contain their annoyance.
"Is everything okay, (Reader)?" Max asked in a concerned tone, leaning in to better read (Reader's) expressions.
"I was just... hoping to go out drinking tonight. I was pretty excited to get home quickly and get changed."
Max's concern melted into another happy smile. "Oh, that sounds like fun!"
"Really?!" (Reader) was sure that Max would lecture them on the dangers of public drinking, or the disturbing hygiene levels of pubs, which is why they wanted to sneak out in the first place. Max was an amazing friend. An understanding, ride-or-die kind of man, (Reader's) sidekick since middle school, extremely hot, and the only person (Reader) felt they could trust with (almost) any secret.
There was only one problem..
Max was controlling. He was never mean about it, and (Reader) never felt like their friendship was abusive, but he was so nervous about everything that (Reader) didn't have much of a social life outside of work and it was starting to drive them crazy. He even moved in to the apartment right next to (Reader) so that whenever they tried to go out without him, he always knew.
"Of course! Why don't you start heading home, and I'll go pick up some beers?"
(Reader's) heart sunk. "S-sounds good.." they feebly attempted to appear pumped, smiling while raising a fist.
Which is why (Reader) was now in their comfortable pajamas getting drunk on the floor in front of their couch, increasingly becoming more and more frustrated while their best friend watched TV, oblivious to (Reader's) bubbling anger.
The dumb comedy made Max chuckle, the booze turning him silly. Usually it was contagious, but at that moment his laughter grated on (Reader's) nerves.
Max finally got the hint that (Reader) might be upset when they loudly crushed their empty can in irritation. "What's going on down there, (Nickname)?"
"I wanted to drink at a bar." (Reader) grumbled, reaching for another drink.
"What? Why?" Max asked, honestly confused as to where this was coming from. "Bars aren't safe, especially for cute people like you. Do you know how many people only go to bars to try and take home drunk people?"
His words snapped (Reader's) patience. "That's what I was going for."
"What?!"
(Reader) jumped to their feet, exasperated. "Oh my GOD, Max. I have needs! I want to fuck, Max, I. Want. To. Fuck." They ran their hands through their hair, leaving Max shell shocked and bright red. "It's getting pathetic, like, really sad. I can't even masturbate, because I'm afraid you'll hear me through the walls."
They collapsed back onto their ass, hands covering their heated eyes.
"You've chased away everyone I've ever had a crush on. I've never had a real relationship. I'm still a virgin. I just wanted to go out and have fun..." (Reader) whined, almost on the verge of tears.
Max slinked off the couch towards (Reader's) curled up form, gently prying (Reader's) hands away from their eyes. "Why didn't you ever consider me?"
"What?" (Reader) pulled away, falling back onto their elbows as Max continued crawling over them.
"I spent so many years praying you would look at me like a man instead of just as your friend. If you were so pent up, why didn't you ever turn to me?"
(Reader) flushed, their dumb little drunk mind having difficulty understanding what Max was trying to say. "Y-you're only saying that because you're drunk." They stuttered, the feeling of their friend's breath tickling their lips making them squeeze their thighs shut instinctively.
"Do you remember, when we were in highschool, and you told me that you liked Robin? That less than average looking basketball player?" Max leaned in, trapping (Reader) with his arms as one knee forced apart their legs, pressing against their crotch. "Do you remember how hard I worked to constantly keep you two apart?"
(Reader) bit their lip to contain a moan. Why were they so turned on right now? They tried to convince themselves it was the alcohol, but the scent of Max's favorite aftershave was making them quiver.
"There's nothing embarrassing about being a virgin, (Reader).." Max tugged on their ear lobe with his teeth, "but if you want, I'll gladly take it for you."
Despite his words of consent, Max's lips were on (Reader's) before they could answer, hungry and dominating, tasting every corner of their mouth while he rubbed his knee against (Reader's) fully aroused sex.
Pulling back, Max smirked at the blushing mess under him, wiping some of (Reader's) saliva off his lip with his thumb. "I never wanted to be your friend." He pulled off his shirt, while smiling almost teasingly.
'This isn't like Max...' (Reader's) half gone mind puzzled. It was like he was possessed.
"Do you know how painful it was, being in love with someone as oblivious as you? How many times you would invite me to sleepovers, and I would spend the entire night watching you sleep?"
His large hands reached down to his zipper, drawing (Reader's) attention to the noticable bulge straining against his pants. "I wanted our first time together to be after you finally fell for me, but..." he pulled down the zipper, and released his erect cock out over the top of his boxers. "... I have the rest of our lives to make you love me."
(Reader's) eyes widened at the size. They hadn't seen a dick that big in real life before, their only frame of reference for erections being in porn. "I don't think that'll fit." They spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.
Max smiled wider, his eyes almost watering with how hot they had become. "It will if you make sure it's wet enough." And for the first time that night, (Reader) understood what Max was saying. They sat up, nervously bringing their face closer towards Max's exposed dick. With experimental touches, their fingers danced along his shaft. At first they were scared that in their drunkenness they couldn't make Max feel good, but soon what little was left of their mind was overcome by desire. (Reader) kissed the tip before thrusting Max's cock as deep into their throat as it could reach. They had imagined themselves doing this so many times that (Reader) thought they knew what to do, but the smell and taste, the building yearning in their groin, and his pleasured moans... There was so much happening all at once that it made it hard to focus on just sucking him off.
(Reader) looked up into Max's eyes, searching for approval, searching for a sign that they were doing a good job. Apparently looking up was the right thing to do, because Max cried out suddenly and pulled himself out of (Reader's) mouth. "God, you're so cute! I can't hold it anymore, (Reader)..."
Max stood to remove his clothes entirely, before getting back on his knees to tear off (Reader's) pajamas. As their pants came off, it was received that they hadn't been wearing any sort of undergarments, which made Max pause, eyes widening and scarlet face deepening.
"Is.. is something wrong?" (Reader) asked fearfully.
"You're more beautiful than I imagined."
As (Reader) soaked in his words, Max was already positioning his drool lubricated member against (Reader's) hole.
He slowly entered his best friend, and laughed as he felt their body swallow him up. "God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this!" The second he was fully submerged he began fucking (Reader) hard and fast, unable to hold himself back, especially when their pleased gasps and cries of pleasure sang from their lips unconstrained. (Reader) clawed at Max's back, not knowing where to put their hands but needing to touch him everywhere.
"Fuck, you look so sexy right now. I love you so much, (Reader)."
(Reader) felt their walls subconsciously constrict at Max's words. They thought about every single time they had ever noticed how attractive he was, and how they would chastise themselves for thinking about their best friend that way.
"I love you too."
Max leaned back, pulling (Reader) up with them as he continued pumping in and out of (Reader) like a machine. "Say it again."
Something was getting tighter in (Reader's) stomach, and they felt like it was going to pop.
"I love you too!"
Max's speed picked up, like a desperate animal. "Again."
"I love you, Max!"
A hot feeling spread throughout (Reader's) insides as Max came inside them, his thick cum triggering their own orgasm.
His hold on (Reader) did not loosen, keeping his grip cemented as though they would disappear if he let go. Even after (Reader) passed out he didn't pull out, simply lying back with (Reader) now on his stomach. Max finally had them, the person he had been head over heels for for the past decade. And as he fell asleep what replayed in his now sober mind wasn't how (Reader's) body felt on his, but their words, echoing on loop in his mind.
"I love you too!"
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere best friend#yandere behavior#romance#thanks for the ask!#i hope you enjoy
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He Chose You (Pt. 3)
Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer decides that you are the perfect person to be his baby mama.
Rated E, but the smut has been delayed due to personal matters. I apologize! Still not for kiddos though.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
“Hello there!”
Teeth.
This man in your apartment —
‘He was a duck. A fucking duck and now he’s a man. Oh my fucking god what the fucking fuck.’
— had shark teeth.
If you’d had better control of your faculties — if you were capable of doing anything more than staring airily with mouth agape — you would’ve screamed bloody murder.
Instead, you sat there, unable to move and quickly succumbing to a sensation you could only described as detachment.
His pointy smile gleamed despite the darkness. His whole person appeared to glow, in fact, giving you a clear view of his demonic approximation of a man in what could only be described as circus attire.
You stared.
There was silence. The expression on his face fell slowly, showman’s smile melting until it barely lingered on his pallid face.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to get loud, heh.” The man-creature adopted an inside voice. “Hello.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you. I mean we’ve met before, obviously, but it’s nice to be able to meet you as me a-and you as you!”
The blond cleared his throat. Enthusiasm in full force as he pulled a cane out of behind his back and spread his arms out wide.
“Allow me to introduce myself! I am Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell… and I am at your service, my lady.”
Lucifer bowed until his strangely nose-less face just about touched the floor.
“… King of Hell…?” Your voice came out steadier than you thought it would. “You’re… Satan?”
“Ah-ha, ha, that’s a common misconception. Satan is actually a friend of mine!” Lucifer sprung up, pleased as punch to hear you finally speak. “People have called me a ton of different names; that’s what happens when you’ve been around for like, ever. It all gets jumbled and lost in translation. Like that game! Telephone!”
“Wait, no.” He snapped his fingers together a few times. “Is that…? No that’s not it. It’s, it’s, ah shit.”
“No, you’re right.” You replied mildly. ”It’s Telephone.”
Lucifer’s eyes lit up like firecrackers. He moved closer to you, step by step, while excitement squared his shoulders.
“So, are you taking me to hell now?” Your flippant question stopped him dead.
“Wait, what?” His shock snapped into nervous laughter.
Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling contemplatively. “I didn’t think I was special enough to be brought down by the Devil himself.”
“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Lucifer waved his arms frantically. “I’m not! You’re not! I would never!”
“I’m flattered. You didn’t have to come all this way, you know.”
“Hell is for sinners not — not for you!” The very real panic on his face was amusing to some part of your hindbrain as you stared back at him airily. “You’re - you don’t deserve to go to Hell. Ever!”
“… Why?”
Lucifer’s shoulders shook, eyes still bugging out of his skull before he took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was on the verge of a panic attack.
“Well, because! Because you-uuu are a good person. Good people go to…” He inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily. “H-heaven.”
You humored him with a smile, a kernel of pity lodged in your heart. It made sense that the Devil would hesitate before even naming Heaven.
“No,” You course-corrected gently. “Why are you here?”
“Oh! Okay, yeah that. Great question! Thank you for asking!” The man-thing cartoonishly wiped at his brow, a silent ‘phew’ following. “I just wanted to, um…”
Black gloves gesture wildly like Lucifer was fishing for words out of the air.
“Ahh, I guess? The short answer is that I just wanted to meet you.” He smiled sheepishly.
Your face felt numb, but you imagined that he could make out the want to raise your eyebrow questioningly from the blazé energy you were exuding.
“See, actually, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself for days. You were moving in and I saw you and I wanted to say hello because you looked… ”
Fang-like teeth bit into his lower lip as Lucifer eyes darted to your form. That sheepish look had morphed into a mortified one when he could no longer make eye contact with you.
“You looked like a ve-ery nice, helpful person and I thought to myself ‘gee, I don’t get to talk to a lot of nice, helpful people often — being as I am the ruler of Hell, and that’s not the nicest place around, right? Hah — so why not stop by and see if this person would be willing to talk to me?’”
The cane in his gloved hands tapped against one palm impatiently, a shiny red apple glinting at the top.
“Well, I, I mean that’s what I wanted to do when you first got here…” He trailed off with uncertainty.
“But I just… I just kept fucking it up!” Lucifer knocked a fist against his face as if to say ‘stupid! stupid!’. “Every time I come up to knock on your door, I start thinking about all the ways it could go wrong and then I’d start getting antsy and I didn’t wanna freak you out!”
The Devil raked a hand through his platinum-blond hair.
“I was just so afraid you’d run away screaming.” He sighed. “Which, while I thought that would be the worst case scenario, made a little more sense than right now with you taking this whole thing exceptionally well.”
“Hmm,” You hummed, turning his words over in your mind. “Well I can’t run away, but I’m definitely screaming internally, if that’s helpful?”
Lucifer had the nerve to pout at your deadpan statement.
“Maybe whatever you gave me at dinner caused a bad reaction?” You suggested.
“Oh no. Well, maybe. I mean — I didn’t give that stuff to you. This was their idea.”
A bit of feeling was returning to your nose, and you could feel it scrunch up in confusion. “Your friends wanted to drug me?”
“My frie — Hah! Oh no, sweetie those aren’t my friends! Well, I mean they’ve let me crash at their place when I’m up topside, but that’s all part of our little agreement.”
“Your agreement to-oo provide them with joy and laughter in their golden years as a pet duck?”
Lucifer guffawed loudly. “Oho! You are — that was funny! Hah, funny, kind, pretty, you’re the whole shebang aren’t ya?! — I knew picking you was the right move!”
‘Picking me?’ That got you to tilt your head with some effort, mouth opening to ask just that.
“Aha no, actually.” Lucifer cut you off. “That’s the other thing I was going to mention. I wasn’t gonna bring it up until a little while later, after we got to know each other.”
Before you knew it, Lucifer had scuttled to your side and was sitting on the edge of the couch beside you, propping up the side of his head on one arm against the back.
“Now’s as good a time as any.” You replied serenely. If you could shrug, you would’ve.
Lucifer frowned while patterns into the couch cushion. “I wish I knew why you’re so darn agreeable. I mean, I love it! Makes this so much easier. But it’s also a little… weird.”
You shifted to better face the Prince of Darkness, feeling a tingling sensation along one side. “I find it’s best to go with the flow during dreams. When I question things, they’re more likely to change into nightmares.”
“Wh… what?” Your companion flinched back like you’d smacked him in the face. “You think this is a dream?”
“What else could it be?” Came your nonchalant response. “It’s either that or a hallucination from the drugs. I wouldn’t know, I don’t usually partake. But I’m pretty sure I fell asleep after my neighbors brought me back to my room, so I’m leaning toward that.”
The devil remained silent, that earlier expression of mortification making a comeback, as well as a slow-growing horror that made the unusually red spots on his cheeks drain down to pink.
“No, no I’m not… I’m not a dream! This is real! I’m real!” Lucifer lurched forward suddenly, hands hovering centimeters from your lifeless arm.
He swallowed thickly, making a decision in real time to peel off his glove and reach out to you with alabaster fingers.
“See?” He asked softly, brushed against your shoulder down to your forearm with cautious claws.
The nerve endings in your body had been waking up throughout your conversation with Not-Satan, but felt unusually sharp as his nails grazed your flesh. Lucifer’s hand was smoother than smooth, and cold like a glass window in winter. It was as if he were made of porcelain, solid yet fragile.
And yet you felt a burgeoning warmth when he took hold of your hand. There was a faint heat coming from beneath his skin; a candle still burning somewhere beneath layers and layers of ice.
You shivered violently, body and mind syncing as you both rejected and sought that impossible sensation.
Lucifer, meanwhile, was staring at your hand in his, fingers entwined. He marveled at the image, hope blossoming from within, after an eternity of being grounded.
Just to touch you, to be near you and bask in your body heat and the presence of your soul did wonders.
“This is no dream. This is really happening.” He repeated softly.
———————— Tag List:
@crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch
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Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {5}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris
Summary: Max arrives at the wrong time and everything goes to hell.
Warnings: 18+ only, angst
WC: 2.3k
F1 Masterlist
NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three
NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six
The door opening might as well have been a punch to your gut. You had seen Lando lose, you had seen him cry, but you had never seen him defeated.
“Lan,” you whispered in the silence as you rose from the couch where you had been curled up in Charles’ arms, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, it was an accident.”
The backpack hanging from his sagging shoulders slipped and thudded to the floor as he saw the suitcase waiting beside the door. “So this is how it is, go public and kick me out?”
“Lando, no.” You closed the distance and crashed into his chest but his arms didn’t return the embrace as you looked up to see the tears in his eyes.
“They’re mine, mon cher,” Charles said as he wrapped his arms around the both of you and kissed Lando’s temple. Lando closed his eyes at the soft touch of Charles’ lips and a tear squeezed free, squeezing your heart at the same time. “I thought you might want the night together after what happened.”
Lando fisted his hand in Charles' shirt to stop him from stepping any further away and tugged him back. Their lips collided with desperate need and you melted at the sight of their tongues fighting for dominance until Lando won. Charles sank into his embrace and moaned when Lando combed his fingers through his hair before they parted breathless. “You’re not leaving right now are you?”
Charles chuckled softly and shrugged. “I’m sure I can be convinced to stay for a little while.”
You would usually try to go to bed early before a race but this wasn’t a normal night. It was already late by the time Charles left for the empty room booked in his name down the hall, next to the empty one of Lando’s, for appearances sake. There was still no chance of sleep yet, not while Lando lay awake and staring at the patterns on the ceiling.
He had been a little rougher as his emotions got the better of him, not enough to hurt you or Charles, but enough to know there was a discussion needed about the new situation. Since Charles left he had been quiet, retreating back into himself the longer he lay there.
“Babe, we need to talk.”
His rising chest stopped as his eyes darted your way. “I hate those words. They are never followed by anything good.”
“They’re just words, not good or bad,” you pointed out but he just looked away with a huff of air through his nostrils. “What do you think we should do?”
“About what?” He turned and propped himself up on his elbow as he traced a fingertip along your curves. “About how my boyfriend and my girlfriend get to have a normal relationship in public, go out on dates, hold hands, kiss? About how I have to play third wheel, a friend tagging along?” He flopped back down and slung an arm across his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“There are other options. We could say we went on a date but it’s nothing serious, no label, be more careful and let the heat die down. Not everyone who kisses has to be in a relationship.”
“If you say you aren’t dating him then the tabloids will call you a slut, that’s how they work,” he muttered.
“I don’t care what they call me, they’ve called me a bitch for most of my career.”
“But I care! I hate how you are treated by the male reporters, how everyone holds you to different standards.”
“It wasn’t all that long ago when you were one of those people too,” you reminded him. “You treated me differently to your guy friends.”
“Not because you were a girl,” he groaned as he pinched your hip. “That was because I was in love with you.”
You quirked an eyebrow up and poked him in the chest. “Was?”
“Am, always,” he corrected with a laugh before he sighed. “I feel like I’ll be forgotten.”
“Oh, Lando…” You pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. “This only works because of the three of us. Without you, we wouldn’t be complete. I wouldn’t be complete.”
His face softened at the reassuring words and his hands ran up your body to cup your face, pulling you down to meet his. “Promise me,” he whispered against your lips.
Taking one of his hands you held his forefinger and crossed it over your heart. “I promise. You won’t ever be forgotten.”
Cradling you to his chest, he wrapped his arms around you and yawned as the exhausting day came to a close. “What do you think Charles is doing?”
You snorted a laugh. “Probably sitting on an ice pack.”
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Lando asked as he bit his lip.
“I don’t think our Charles has ever really been spanked, he might feel it in the morning,” you giggled. “He knows you would have stopped the moment he asked to, but he didn’t, so it wasn’t too much for him.”
He relaxed under you and after a few minutes his breathing evened out as he fell asleep. You started to climb off him so you could lay on his arm but the moment you moved he woke up.
“You make a terrible weighted blanket,” he grumbled. “Stay still.”
Chuckling, you laid back down and made yourself comfortable, pulling the blankets up to settle in for the night. “Sweet dreams, my love.”
His sleepy mumblings were almost incoherent but you caught his reply with a smile as you drifted off too.
“Max?” You frowned as you opened the door expecting to find Charles returning for breakfast. “What do you want?”
“To talk,” he replied as he pushed the door open and walked in without an invitation.
You pulled the hotel robe tighter around your body and crossed your arms defensively. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“He’s one of my best mates and you lied to me.”
“I never lied, I just didn’t tell you - because it’s none of your business what I do. And, it obviously didn’t affect your friendship.”
“Secrets are bad,” he stated like he was talking to Penelope and you felt your temper rise.
“I was a secret!” you hissed sharply. “I was a secret for ten fucking years, Max. Does that make me bad?”
“Why are you whispering?” Max narrowed his eyes at the bedroom door that was almost closed. “Is that bastard here? I'm going to kill him.”
“Max, don’t go in there.” He ignored your protest as he shoved the door open and tore the bedding away. “Max!”
Confusion hit Max like a slap to the face as he saw who it was asleep naked facedown in your bed. “Lando?”
Lando came awake suddenly, after managing to sleep through the noise it was the cold air that woke him. “Woah, what the…?”
“You’re fucking him too?” Max growled, turning away from Lando to look down his nose at you. Disappointed was set deep in his features as he shook his head. “You’re a whore, just like your mother.”
You didn’t even feel your fingers closing around the vase, you didn’t feel anything but the explosive need to make him regret his words. Max managed to dodge the vase as it flew across the room at him but porcelain shattered against the wall that your scream echoed off.
“Apologise now,” you demanded as you started to stalk your half brother around the bed. “My mother did nothing wrong! Jos may have cheated on your mum, but he royally fucked mine over.”
You didn’t hear the footsteps coming in, and you barely registered the arms that wrapped around you, the red sleeves bright against your white robe. All your focus was on Max and the sneer on his face that you wanted to slap right off.
“Guess you’re more like Jos than you thought then,” Max snickered. “Let her go, Charles, prove once and for all that you are a Verstappen.”
“What the hell is going on?” Charles growled as he struggled to hold you back. “Lando…a little…help.”
Max frowned as he watched Lando rush to help keep you from reaching him, after tripping over the pair of boxers he was trying to pull on. “You’re not even going to ask why Lando was in her bed?”
“I would be more worried if he wasn’t, it’s where I left them,” Charles snapped impatiently. “Now get the fuck out of our room.”
Max swallowed as he digested the news and an array of emotions flitted across his face. “Where you left them…”
Lando cupped your face as he positioned himself between you and Max, talking softly as he tried to get your attention, “Look at me, love. Forget what he said, he’s wrong.”
“You’re nothing like Jos,” Charles reminded quietly in your ear, his lips brushing your neck as he spoke.
You finally dragged your eyes away from Max and met Lando’s only to see the rage you showed outwardly suppressed deep in his blue eyes. Closing your eyes, you sagged in their arms and nodded as the fight left you as quickly as it came. It was only then that you realised the shaking wasn’t coming from you but Charles and Lando. They were using you as an anchor as much as you were clinging to them like a lifesaver.
“Go away,” you said to Max as Lando buried his face in the crook of your neck, his quiet murmurings promising you their friendship was over for what he called you. “Leave us alone.”
“But-”
“As far as I am concerned, I don’t have a father, and I don’t have a brother.” Your voice was steadier than you expected it to be but it was empty, cold and dead. “I have everything I need right here.”
Max could see there was no arguing with you, your mind was set and you were stubborn. Making his way out of the room he paused beside Lando, looking at his closest friends to see they were just as disappointed as he was, only theirs was aimed at him. “You’re throwing away a decade of friendship for her?”
Charles' arms tightened around you as his back stiffened at the question and you peeked up over your shoulder to see the sadness in his eyes. “You did that, mate, the moment you disrespected the woman we love.”
“Charles, you love every woman you date. My sister is just going to be another girl you get bored with and dump at the end of the season.” Max shook his head and made his way to the door only to stop as he reached for the doorknob. “I hope you really thought this through, zusje. What happens when one of them crashes, are you going to throw away a win just to check they are alright?”
“Yes.” It was an easy question to answer. “Some things are more important than winning, which just goes to show…I’m not a Verstappen.”
You left the circuit without taking the usual team celebration photo. You left the moment the podium celebration was finished.
There had been no flood of excitement or adrenaline as you stood at the centre between Max and Lewis. You hadn’t even been able to shake your bottle of champagne to more than a fizz before taking a seat on the step and overlooking the crowd that cheered. You deserved the win, you worked hard for it, so why did you feel like shit?
You had pushed recklessly, taking corners needlessly fast so you could stay ahead of Max. You had degraded the tires uncharacteristically quick with poor management. It wasn’t a clean win. It wasn’t won for the right reasons. You had wanted to humiliate Max and a 20 second lead was the only way you could do that.
Spotting a disappointed Jos in the crowd, you lifted the bottle up to salute him before tipping it back with both hands and swallowing as much of the bubbly as you could before Calum intervened. He already had his hands full after collecting the Constructors trophy on behalf of Red Bull but he made room to take your bottle as well.
“Come on, Spitfire,” he said as he hooked an arm under yours and pulled you to your feet. “Another one for the collection.”
You forced a smile and traded your trophy for the bottle. “Can you take that down to the garage for me?”
“Sure. Where are you going?”
“Home.” Your eyes drifted to Max who was busy wiping away the confetti stuck to his hair. You had half expected him to tell everyone the truth but as the day wore on there was no breaking news or anything more than the photo of you and Charles kissing.
“Wait, hold up, wait…” he called after you but you were already descending the stairs and weaving your way out the back of the motorhomes. You stopped by the empty Red Bull space just long enough to change your clothes and grab your bag but by the time you opened the door Charles and Lando were waiting outside your driver room.
“Need an escape, love?” Lando asked as he held up the key to the McLaren sports car he had been given for the weekend. “We can beat the traffic to the airport if we leave now. Anywhere you want in the world, baby.”
You pulled your phone out of your bag and turned it on to see all the unread messages but there was one you had been waiting for and you smiled when you found a reply had come in during the race.
Of course, honey, you are always welcome home x
“Anywhere?” you asked as you put your phone away. You met their curious faces as they nodded and waited for your destination. “How would you like to meet my mum?”
Click here for part six.
#charles leclerc x reader x lando norris#charles leclerc imagine#lando norris imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#lando norris fanfic#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#f1 rpf#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader
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Hi hello! Idk if your request is currently open or not, but I'd like to request a fic where the Reader is a member of the Smiling Critters, they're still alive due to Catnap's fondness of them. They're on his side but hate it, only doing it in exchange that Dogday wouldn't get hurt.
With Catnap's permission, they would visit Dogday and give him whatever food they could find ( let's say Catnap still has some fondness for Dogday inside of him ) but with limitations.
You can change the idea into how you prefer! Thank you in advance :D
Ps. Mind adding a scene where Dogday calls the Reader " Angel " and reminisces about Catnap's fondness for both of them? I hope it makes sense, I just melt seeing Dogday calling us Angel :'D
Here We Stay
Note || KSJSJSJD I loved writing this, everything makes sense :D My apologies I took so long to write this! Kinda short too but UUHHHHH-
WC || 1,176
Sypnosis || being a member of the Smiling Critters meant you would’ve died one way or another, but you didn’t. Now all you can do is hope for the best.
One of the worst possible things could be corporate greed, even just having good intentions yet the worst execution is a plausible answer. Just how could you be forced into this situation? Trying to make things worth Catnap’s while is harsh, the only reason you knew you were alive right now was merely because he was particularly fond of you and DogDay alike. He wasn’t the same after the fact the Prototype’s reign began, you weren’t aware of much yourself, so all of this was just plain scary to you.
All your friends just disappeared and died, some of which you didn’t know was happening. You only got all that information because of DogDay.
You hated the circumstance he was put in, it seemed so painful for one’s legs to be severed and just hung up there the way he is now.
Repeatedly however, DogDay has assured you he didn’t mind being like this so long as you were in good health. He couldn’t bear knowing he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing for one of the only friends he has left. So many of his friends were gone already, DogDay would elect to die for you if it meant you would live.
Truth be told, you had only exchanged the peace you had before so that DogDay would not get hurt anymore then he already has. Catnap had full will and the power to completely end your life otherwise, you just were scared.
Sometimes when you could, you would take a look at the broken clock that had somehow still worked like normal–and think about what time it would be in the day–Is it nighttime? How about daytime. Oh how you wished you weren’t subject to things the way they are now, all because of the wretched rules of humans and even the abject rulings of the Prototype himself.
Why would Catnap even view that silly toy as a god anyway? Perhaps that was for him to know, and for you to find out. Once, your life isn’t in any danger any longer. Just maybe it will be possibly any hour now, one can only hope.
Trying to scrounge the Factory for any possible food was getting harder and harder every hour, one could argue it may be the stupid little mice stealing those last precious crumbs away. You would argue it would be the little Wuggies, those small toys were objectively brisk–and limpid too (colors so closely related within the walls of the factory, you forget sometimes they are even there).
You try hard to not forget where you are, in order to get back to DogDay with food for him. That was the only reason you were even anywhere else and away from your sunny friend, you would still be close to him any chance you get on account of Catnap’s permission.
You wished otherwise.
“Ugh!” Groaning, you step over the possible weak spots that would have you falling through the floor. “There has to be food around here somewhere..” You mention, notioning to the fact you had now stepped into an office. There would be bound to be food here!
With an ounce of hope, you began scrounging the office for any possible heaps of food that you find. Ruffling through any drawers and papers, this office seemed to be a mess. You paid no mind to the messes anyway, there are bound to be messes since the last ten years in Playtime Co.
“Success! Haha!” You triumphantly hold a bundle of donuts in your hand, “Take that Hour of Joy!”
Winding down from your self inflated permeated success, you began making your way back to DogDay. You’d have to speak to Catnap to get to him first unfortunately, you always hated this part. Nonetheless, it was necessary.
You picked up the phone, already dialing Catnap to inform him of current conditions. You carefully had curated your words, you always did this when you spoke to him which ever way.
His deep voice rumbled soundly in your ears, “Food, for him?”
“Yes.” You silently groan, kicking a benign rock stubble as you stand around while awaiting his confirmation. Why the hell was he so scary to you? Though, Catnap’s voice was oddly reassuring when he spoke without malcontent. For a moment, there was a long pause.
You swore you could hear someone screaming and pleading to the giant purple cat; you felt bad for the unlucky victim that had crossed paths with Catnap.
“...” Then the phone hung up, you sighed a breath of relief that you could visit DogDay. Many things you would do for him just aside visiting, was having to loop in Catnap on whatever the contents of the material you would bring in hand with you. You knew the cat well enough his pause of silence meant yes.
Well, you can go now at least. You don’t even want to recount the last time you had brought something to DogDay without telling Catnap.
You stepped over the rubble that had led up to the heretic altar, you recognize he is one of the many dubbed a heretic, you truly wished he wasn’t in so much pain this way. Though immediately another thought crossed your mind.
This hallway needed some serious cleaning up to do.
A strained voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You didn’t have to bring anything my friend.” DogDay was being positive about you as per usual, you sighed as you stepped up to him then sat down as your legs were weary and tired.
“DogDay we are friends, I’d do anything for you.” You motion, taking out a donut so you could feed it to him. Though in a rare few circumstances you were allowed to free DogDay’s hands so he could eat himself. Unfortunately it was not one of those circumstances. He took a willing bite, chewing it up as he savored it.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to articulate anything, “Do you, remember how he was before… Angel?” DogDay was still mournfully thinking about Catnap’s old self, which he had every right to do. Knowing someone for as long as you would, then that someone changing so drastically–especially not in a good way–can be startling.
You fed him another bite of the donut you held in your hand, “How could I forget? He was quite silent, sure enough. But he was always considering each and every one of us.” You nod with a tilted head. Oh, if you had the chance to turn back the clock and change things, you would’ve done it all in a heartbeat.
Sincerely, you were scared. Scared for Catnap, scared for DogDay. All your possibly living friends you know are still alive.
You grin slightly, wanting to alleviate the conversation and change the subject, “You might need a cleaning.” DogDay couldn’t help but bark–reminiscent of laughter–at your words. He shifted himself noticeably, most likely to bear the weight from one end to another. And remove the discomfort for a little bit before it would dare come back.
“You may be right, my angel.”
"One can only hope."
#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#poppy playtime x reader#dogday poppy playtime#x reader#ah he’s so cute#I’m MELTINGGGF
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GOJO SEES YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT !
Pairing. student!gojo x student!gn!reader
Genre. fluff, friends to hinted lovers perhaps
Word count. 0.6k | Warnings. swearing, the reader is smaller than gojo (the shirt is big on them)
A/N. i see a lot of these and like 7/10 times theyre smut LMAOAO so i wanted to write a fluff ver! i also did Not think id be writing for jjk but 😭 ig we are + not rlly proofread sorry :(
Today was Gojo's day off, and what better way to start it than waking up at four pm?
He was a busy guy - despite only being in high school - he's already taken on many jobs, it was only right he could get sixteen hours of sleep.
When he arrived at your shared dorm at twelve in the morning, you were already asleep, so when he got out of his room and laid his eyes on you wearing his t-shirt, he couldn't help but gasp.
"Oh, hey Satoru." You spoke, sparing him a quick glance before going back to cooking. His mouth was still wide open; he couldn't respond—he tried, but he couldn't. No sound could leave him. Who knew all it took for the strongest to be left speechless was the sight of you in his shirt?
You look back at him, seeing how his jaw was still on the floor, you realize it was probably because of what you were wearing right now.
"Oh! This? Sorry," you chuckle, "none of my clothes have been washed yet—call me gross, whatever—so I decided to steal from your wardrobe. Hope you don't mind." You stuck your tongue out before placing the eggs on a plate.
You moved to put the plate on the dining table, giving him a better view of you in his shirt. It fit him so perfectly, so seeing it so big on you absolutely made his heart melt.
There was a light tint of pink on your friend's cheeks now; you were so cute he felt like he was going to pass out.
"Are you okay with just eggs? There's more stuff but I wanna save them for next time—oh, actually, you might not be here tomorrow…" You mumbled the last part, choosing to ignore how he still hasn't responded to any of your sentences.
Gojo tried to get a word out, but all he could manage was a strange, strangled noise, which you respond to with a confused hum. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't organize any of his thoughts. He was screaming over and over in his head, but there was a thought slightly bigger than the rest (the rest which consisted of AAAA's, OH MY GOD's, and WHAT THE FUCK's)—that thought was: "holy fuck you're so adorable," which was also exactly what he just blurted out.
Now it was your turn to be flustered, "I—what?"
Gojo's eyes widen before he covers his face with his hands, his face now fully red. "Ignore what I just said," his voice was muffled, but you could still hear what he said.
You never thought you'd see the Gojo Satoru blushing so deeply with his face in his hands, but here he is. You laugh, "can you repeat that?" You were teasing him, I mean, it's not every day that this happens, but any more teasing and his heart might actually blow up.
"Y/n, shut up—oh my God—I hate you!"
"I thought you said I was adorable? Or do you hate cute things?"
He yells into the palms of his hands.
Although you're being bold right now, him calling you adorable caused your brain to shut down for a good millisecond. Gojo complimented you all the time, but somehow, this felt different.
You walk to where he's standing right now, hands still covering his pretty face. You put your hand on his, and the feeling of your warm and soft hands comfort him.
He could tell you wanted to pull his hands away, and while he didn't want that, he was so weak to your touch.
He had no other option but to give in, so he did. You put his left hand away first, then the right. With his hand still in yours, you softly spoke, "if that's the case, then you must really hate yourself."
Oh, he was so in love with you.
© geombyu
#if this has a gendered term or smthng of that sort i am soosos sorry i didnt proofread but i will once i wake up#so trust if there is any ill fix them tmrw#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo x you#jjk fluff#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios#gojo scenario#anime fluff#anime x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo imagine#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Clarisse x Reader - Once More to See You
Clarisse x gn! reader, any cabin
An- sorry this took so long to get out! Anyways, thank you guys so much for liking my other Clarisse fics! This is my fourth one, so I hope that they get better with the more I write, but pls let me know if this is bad! Idk where my mind was when I wrote this lol. 3.3k words! Let me know if I messed anything up, and tell me what you guys thought of the last pjo ep! Dior looked as beautiful as always!!!!
Warnings!- nightmares, kissing, affection, mentions of training and weapons, pet names, pls let me know if something was missed!
The sun was almost to much to bear.
Beating down on Clarisse, it was almost melting. But she continued to swing her spear at the training dummy, hitting as hard as she could while making sure to be acutely aware of where she was landing the hits.
She was also very aware of the eyes that followed her every move.
She knew that it was you, the only person at camp she allowed to get close to her. For some reason.
“Do you want to train with me?” She paused to yell and to look over at you.
“I’ll pass.” You were standing on the sidelines holding Clarisse's water bottle and her towel. She looked back at the dummy once before relaxing a bit and walking over to you. She grabbed the water and jugged it.
“How's day goin’ for you, angel?” You rolled your eyes just a bit and smiled at her nickname for you. She has called you that ever since you two really became friends, and almost gone is the flustered feeling it used to give you.
Almost.
“Really good actually, pretty girl.” Clarisse then took that chance to roll her eyes back at you, but the sun was definitely getting hotter because there was definitely no other reason why Clarisse’s face was feeling so warm all of the sudden, even after her intake of cool water.
“Oh yeah? What have you been doing?” She took the towel that you had extended to her and sat down on the closest bench. She nodded along as you recounted your day and how you spent the most of it doing crafts and training with the younger campers. She sat and listened until it was time for dinner, where the two of you sat side by side at the Ares table, even though it wasn’t technically allowed.
A few of her siblings teased the two of you, but it was a common occurrence, so they all knew that this was normal and would continue to be so. But they also couldn't just let it slide.
Clarisse made sure you were close by the rest of the night, completing both of your nightly routines that have over time molded together to make sure that they could fit like a puzzle piece.
She walked you to your cabin, and just like on any other night, there was a slight itch in her hand and the thought in her brain that she should be holding on to you in some way.
Linked hands, her arm around your shoulder, her hand guiding you whilst being placed on the small of your back. All feel like they could be the most natural thing in the world, if only your relationship could be just a little different.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Your question broke her from her thoughts and she just nodded.
“Yeah. Sleep tight, got it?” You smiled and hesitated before pulling her in for a quick hug. She tried to get over her surprise fastly, but you were quicker to end the hug then she was able to melt into you.
“So, um… goodnight.” You turned and walked into your cabin, Clarisse and one of your siblings who had witnessed the event watching with wide eyes. She made eye contact with them, and her shock dropped from her face. “Scram.” Your sibling nodded and wordlessly walked past her, going to some place she could care less about.
She stood there for another minute or so, her hand covering the bottom off her face as she sighed. The sun was gone now, but for some reason, her face felt all too hot right now.
She was beginning to think that the reason and cause had to do something with you.
Clarisse woke with a start the minute the creak of a floor board was heard across the cabin. She had practically trained herself to be awake at any moment, though she could mostly thank her fathers genes for that convenient trait.
None of her siblings seemed to have got it though, since none of them had even stirred.
She squinted her eyes to try to see through the darkness. “Hello?” she whispered out. The outline of a person stuck standing near the doorway visibly let some tension out of their shoulders as they began to move towards her, seemingly uncaring of the other little creaks that the old wood would let out.
“Clarisse?” Clarisse also then let out a breath, as well as a lot of the tension she was also holding.
“Angel? What are you doing here?” She sat up a bit more properly and scooted more to the side of her bed that was touching the wall, patting the now empty wedge, the sheets still wrinkled from the few hours of tossing and turning and sleep she had got.
You moved into that space next to her, bringing your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped around your legs.
Uh oh. Clarisse thought. The fetal position was never a good sign.
She hesitated before reaching her own arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer to her, hoping that you could soak in some of the warmth Ares kids were notorious to have.
But she was still an Ares kid.
Comfort was not something she was really familiar with.
“What happened?” Her mind began to wander a bit, thinking that you must have gotten hurt. But who would hurt you knowing they would have to face her wrath? Her hands shook a little as she went through a list in her mind of potential people. It must have been one of your siblings, probably the one who-
“I had a nightmare.” Your voice was barely audible, but just the sound almost instantly calmed Clarisse down.
“Yeah? Do you want to talk about it? Or….” you shook your head no. “Do you want to stay the night here?”
You shifted a bit to look at her, and she noticed your eyes were a bit red and puffy. She wondered a bit about what could have happened in your dream if it made you have this strong of a reaction. All demigods got nightmares, you and Clarisse being no exception.
But this was the first time you had ever sought the other out like this.
“Can I?” You whispered.
“Any time.” She gently coaxed you out of your position so that way the two of you could lay flat on your backs, her arm still protectively holding you. “You know that I’m super strong, right? Whatever was scary in your dream was definitely no match against me.” You giggled, and Clarisse smiled.
She then spent some time talking about how she could protect you against anything, right until you fell asleep. She watched you for a moment, the peaceful look and the rise and fall of your chest bringing her comfort. She gently pushed a bit of hair away from your face and refused the urge in which was telling to place a kiss on your forehead.
She settled beside you, and sleep came easier for her then it had ever been since she had found out she was the daughter of war.
Sunlight streamed a bit too harshly through the windows making Clarisse try to close her eyes tighter. She groaned when she realized it was useless.
Someone cuddled in closer to her, their arms getting stronger around her waist. She tensed up a bit before remembering last night. The both of you were laying on your sides facing each other, all of your limbs seemed to be entangled with hers. She leaned into you more and began to close her eyes again.
That was before she heard the giggles of her siblings.
Her eyes shot open, and there were some of her brothers and sisters, standing above her bed, two of them with cameras. “What the fu- get away! Get!” She whisper- yelled, trying her best to not be close to your ear while making sure you didn't move much. Her siblings just laughed, took a picture, and then ran out of the cabin, their heavy steps making her flinch.
“What time is it?” Your voice distracted her from glaring at the still left open door. Her eyes flickered to her alarm clock. “It’s almost nine.” You hummed and burrowed your face into her neck.
She tried to ignore that.
Clarisse was always an early riser. Sleeping in any time after seven made her moody, and naps were completely out of the question and annoying to her.
So how was she able to sleep till nine, breaking her 5:30 wake up and missing both of her alarms? And why did she feel so… rejuvenated? Were you numbing her senses?
“We should get up.” You looked up at her, your eyes all sleepy and a small frown on your face.
“You don’t want to stay with me?”
Oh.
The room felt a bit hotter all of the sudden.
“Don’t you have classes to teach? The kids can't learn how to craft all by themselves.” She smirked as you blinked at her. You groaned and sat up, cutting off the skin contact and effectively making Clarisse feel colder and as if she was missing something.
“You’re lucky that I like what I do. I’ll see you at lunch, ‘kay?” You smiled at her and got up, stretching as you left her cabin to walk to yours.
All Clarisse could think about was; "is she actually lucky?"
The rest of the day seemed to go like normal, with you and Clarisse doing your separate duty’s while still finding times and places where the two of you could meet.
She was able to track and threaten her siblings, the ones who had taken the pictures of you two sleeping. She confiscated the camera, but when no one else was looking she pocketed one of the photos.
For safekeeping. She justified to herself.
To make sure that no one else would see it.
That night when you said your good nights, you hugged her again. This time it was a hug she was able to lean into, one that she was able to savor.
She was about to offer you to stay with her again, just another night. But the words got stuck in her throat as you pulled away.
“Stay safe, promise?'' Your words made her curious, but she wasn’t going to question you. It clicked that this was probably because of your dream.
“Have you even met me?” She laughed a bit, and you smiled at her softly.
It made her falter a bit. If any enemies were just a smidge like her, then that smile alone would stop an army.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. I promised the kids that we would teach the sword class together.” She sounded a bit breathless, and she hoped that it was only in her mind. You hesitated, but nodded.
“See you tomorrow.”
Clarisse has been on edge ever since the clock turned to twelve. It was around this time that you had come to her yesterday, and even though it was a one time event, (or so she figured it would be), it felt like there was a pit in her stomach, and she couldn't help but feel like you were in some sort of danger.
She was almost ready to jump off her bed and speed walk to your cabin.
“Clarisse, can you stop?” One of her siblings whispered from some other bunk and she sighed. She realized that she was tossing and turning louder than she thought.
“I’m taking a walk.” She flipped the sheets off of her and walked out the door, making her way silently to your cabin. There were only a handful of times that she has been in here, but she knew where your bed was.
You were tossing and turning worse then how she was, sweat dripping down your chin to your neck. She gently touched your shoulder, something she knew she probably shouldn't have done, but it was enough to wake you from your sleep.
You sat up fast, your chest moving rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. You gulped.
“Clarisse? What… why are you here?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at her, still breathing hard.
“I felt that you weren't okay. Another nightmare?” You nodded as she continued to stand above you.
“Well, if you're okay, I'm gonna- I’ll… leave.” She turned around, but your hand caught her wrist with a tight grip before she was able to get far.
“Can you… can you stay?'' You were looking at her with those eyes again, and her breath was gone as well.
“Yeah. I can.” Her voice was too soft, a soft that would make her father distaste her even more. But she climbed into your bed, and for another night she slept with you in her arms.
The two of you occupied each other's beds for the next month, but neither of you spoke of the tension that riddled the space between you.
Nightmares didn't plague you any more, and Clarisse was getting better sleep then she had ever gotten before. That was until Chiron called her to his office.
“A quest?” Chiron nodded.
“Yes, one that was provided by one of the gods themselves, Hera. She asked for an Ares kid to complete this for her. You’ll think about it, won’t you?”
Clarisse nodded slowly.
“Perfect. Now, get back to your activities.”
Clarisse left his office like that. Her mind was clouded, and she didn't really know what to do.
Of course she had to take it, this was another great opportunity to show how great she was to her dad, and how far her training has come.
But she couldn't help thinking: what about you? How would you be if she had left? Quests could take up any amount of time, and what if something happened to her? Or you while she was away?
“What was that about?” Luke appeared next to her, catching her by surprise. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“A quest. They specifically want me.” Luke nodded, and he had that weird thoughtful look on his face that made Clarisse’s nose wrinkle.
The two of them hardly got along well, but as cabin counselors they had to be civil. She looked around at the trees as they walked together towards the training ground, that is until Luke spoke your name.
“Do they know?” He asked. She shook her head.
“No other campers but you knows.” He just nodded his head again. He smirked and looked at her.
“Can't wait to see how that goes.” And then he turned and walked the other way, leaving Clarisse standing there in slight shock. What was that about? Did he know something she didn’t?
She shook it off the best that she could before walking to where you were.
There was a smile on your face as you helped an eight year old boy from the Hermes cabin hold his sword properly. She watched as you stepped back and let him swing it at the target, clapping your hands and laughing a bit once he finally got it right. He ran to give you a hug, and you hugged him back, and she could tell from where she was that you were praising his abilities. Clarisses heart felt so full, and all though she thought it was impossible, she could swear she was falling for you even more.
Maybe Silena was right, and she is a stickler for domesticy. Maybe a quest wasn't what would make her truly happy. Maybe it was a life with you.
“Clarisse!” You were running towards her and she caught you in a hug.
“Hey. I was actually hoping that we could talk for a bit.” The smile stayed on your face while confusion clouded your eyes and your eyebrows furrowed.
“Sure, okay.”
The two of you walked into the forest together, stopping in a clearing which happened to be Clarisse’s favorite place at camp. Other than wherever you were. You took her hand in yours in a way that she assumed you thought would bring her comfort, but it just made her heart beat faster.
“The gods want me to go on a quest.” She blurted out. Your face and mood fell and you took your hand out of her grip gently.
“And what did you say?”
“Well, I'm technically still thinking about it, but I think that this could be good for me. Hera wants this thing done for her, and you know that I have trained for this, and it would be nice if my father would recognize me at least once. But I also- Angel? Are you okay?”
You looked as if you were about to cry, one hand hovering over where your heart is and the other almost covering your mouth. You were shaking like a leaf in the wind, and Clarisse didn’t like it one bit.
She moved towards you, placing her hands on either side of your shoulders and helping you sit on the ground. She put your face in between her collarbone and neck, stroking your hair softly as you sniffled.
“What’s wrong?” She was unsure that you would answer, but you shifted your head a bit back.
“This is just like my nightmare.”
It all kind of made sense now.
“I had them, for like, a week before I first went to your cabin. It’s always the same some how, with you accepting a quest from Hera and never returning, or you go missing and I have to be the one to find your body, or I go with you and I can’t do anything about that stupid monster you fight, and I just-” You were crying, Clarisse could practically feel them burn into her skin.
“I don’t want to lose you Clarisse. Not on a dumb quest or ever. I don’t know what to do without you.” Clarisse nodded a bit and fiddled with a piece of your hair.
“I chased away the dreams though, right?” She had no clue if you would appreciate any type of small joke she made, and she figured she was dead when you pulled away from her a little and looked into her eyes, your lips slightly parted in what she could only guess was surprise.
Then you leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.
She was surprised, just like how she was when you had first hugged her. You pulled away quicker this time, fear evading finding your eyes for the split second before Clarisse pulled you back in, returning the kiss you first started with as much passion as she could possibly convey. You were both breathless the next moment once you realized that you had to get air.
“I don’t know what to do about the quest.” Clarisse whispered. She didn’t know why she did, but she felt like something could break if she didn’t.
“I don’t know either.” You responded, your voice as low as hers.
“I-... I think I like you.” Clarisse confessed.
Although they weren't exactly the words she wanted to say, (She knew for a fact that she was in love with you), but it still felt as if a slight weight was lifted off of her. You leaned back into her, so close that she could practically feel the smile that grew on your face on her lips.
“I think I like you too, pretty girl.” And she smiled too.
“Why do you call me that?” She tilted her head as you leaned back and laughed.
“Because you're pretty.”
The way you said it with so much certainty, as if you knew she could rival Aphrodite herself, made Clarisse feel bubbly, and she wasn’t someone who would ever really feel like that.
She didn't know what she would do about the quest.
She didn’t know what you would do if you found out if she ever accepted, or what punishment she would face if she were to turn it down.
But Clarisse La Rue was in love with you, and she would protect you from those nightmares for as long as you let her.
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#pjo#pjo x reader#clarisse pjo#dior goodjohn#clarisse x reader
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