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phyrestartr · 2 days

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PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?”

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle.

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold.

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him.

“...No proof.”

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you.

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige.

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational.

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair.

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you.

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard.

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?”

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought.

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.”

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.”

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless.

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.”

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly.

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly.

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?”

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.”

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?”

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.”

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?”

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you.

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest.

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.”

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.”

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.”

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.”

Man. Man.

“A statement.”

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.”

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up.

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.”

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you.

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it?

Fuck me. This shit is highschool.

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it.

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now?

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos.

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy.

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize.

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy.

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?”

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning?

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tch. Omegas.”

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?”

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?”

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?”

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?”

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not.

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.”

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually.

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad.

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck?

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.”

“Okay, cool. When's your next–”

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.”

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.”

“M'not. Fuck you.”

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?”

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm.

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never.

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today.

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now.

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!”

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him.

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?”

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly.

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention.

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents.

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy.

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked.

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?”

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha.

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?”

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna.

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one.

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.”

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little.

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons.

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?”

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.”

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.”

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise.

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.”

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit.

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.”

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore.

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–”

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.”

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably.

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor.

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features.

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose.

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?”

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up.

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.”

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.”

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.”

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.”

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–”

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted.

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes.

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–”

“I'll take you home.”

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.”

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature.

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.”

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh.

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe.

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why.

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–”

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?”

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.”

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first.

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control.

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash.

“Fucking–wait, just–”

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door.

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone.

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him.

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges.

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?”

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast.

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.”

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled.

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.”

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat.

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.”

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.”

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?”

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.”

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?”

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.”

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue.

“You’re exhausting.”

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.”

“Wow.”

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door.

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face.

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad.

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.”

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.”

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away.

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard.

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.”

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?”

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?”

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you.

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–”

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did).

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really.

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail.

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else.

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt).

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry.

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it.

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.”

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches.

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath.

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing.

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink.

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.”

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire.

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.”

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.”

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time.

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though.

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked.

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?”

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.”

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?”

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.”

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.”

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes.

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it.

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?”

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly.

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.”

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go.

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.”

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that.

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched.

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?”

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in.

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more.

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.”

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide.

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.”

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest.

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it.

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun.

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once.

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey.

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed.

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.”

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you.

But maybe, maybe, you had a point.

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up.

“Ow. Gross.”

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.”

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.”

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst.

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

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alice-angel12x · 2 days

Note

What if the twisted wonderland react the MC/Reader have a magical paintbrush just like epic mickey games?

Also this is yuu's paintbrush looks like btw

Yuu! Epic Mickey Twisted Wonderland

Here's a fun art peice I did cause the image was so fun.

Overblot boys (Riddle, Leona, Azul, and Jamil) React to Epic Mickey!Yuu

I remember when I first created Forgotten Wasteland, and how my apprentice made a mess of it all. While I am glad he repaired all the damage he has done, I couldn't trust him to not let his mischievous curiosity get the better of him. So I took up my magical brush and created a helper or a protector. They would keep watch and protect the toons of wasteland. They were an excellent student, they quickly mastered the magic of the brush. If only my other student was this obedient. (Geez Yen Sid, biased much).

Master Yen Sid watched Yuu gently and with a calculated stroke of the bush on the wasteland. The old wise wizard nodded with approval.

"You have done well," Yen Sid said as he gave a pat on Yuu's head.

Yuu smiled softly when they noticed their master holding his hand out, asking for his paintbrush back. They handed the wizards the brush, and suddenly began to dip it into the paint. Where he began to wave the brush in the air, creating something. Something big.

With a final stroke, there before him was a beautiful paintbrush. It was almost Yuu's height, as the wizard handed them the gift.

"Be very careful with this magic. With great strength, comes even greater responsibility. This is not something to play with willy-nilly," Yen Sid said sternly.

"Yes, Master Yen Sid. I promise to use this power for good," Yuu said, trying to contain their excitement.

"I know you will. I can see great things from you," Yen Sid said with a small smile. "Take good care of Wasteland."

If only Yen Sid knew, that his favorite pupil would vanish from under his nose. They would somehow end up in a place called Twisted Wonderland.

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

💗Riddle RoseHeart 💗

Before the blot:

When he first meets Yuu, he doesn't really take them seriously. Since the mirror says they are not a magic user.

He thinks the large paintbrush Yuu carries around is really inconvenient. And Does not look forward to all the potential mess it could bring.

After/during Blot:

Overblot Riddle struggled in the battle with Yuu. The most annoying thing they did was paint his rose bushes Blue, turning them against him.

Turns out Yuu and their magic paintbrush weren't as useless as Riddle assumed.

Yuu's finishing blow was a good whack to the head, dousing Riddle and the ink phantom with a powerful stream of thinner, erasing the blotted ink instantly.

Leaving an unblotted Riddle behind. Though Yuu gave Riddle one last splash of thinner for safe measure.

Leaving a crying drenched mess.

After fixing that, they left all of Heartslybuyal in awe as they watched the thinner in the brush turn to blue paint. And with many strokes of the brush, the unbirthday party was restored.

After that Riddle had a lot more respect for Yuu, and was a lot more curious of what else Yuu could do with their brush.

____________________________________

🦁Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Before Blot:

He could have cared less about this person. He thought they looked ridiculous with their giant brush. On top of that, they were magicless.

However, he did note that this new student smelt strange. Yet he paid them no mind.

After/during Blot:

Leona had a bit of an easier time against Yuu, cause of the howling sandstorm. Making it difficult for Yuu to toss the Thinner on the phantom and the inkblot.

So with the help of the first-year squad, moved upwind and with this. Yuu blasted Leona with a wave of magic Thinner.

The phantom quickly resolved, and Leona could only stare in shock as the Thinner swept him away.

Of course, they made sure to drench Leona in thinner to be sure all the inkblot was gone.

After the whole event, he was strangely enough. interested in going against the Ramshackle team. Even if it wasn't an official match.

He would smirk in interest as Yuu used their magic brush to create a flying broom for themselves. And some Toon as extra players for the team.

____________________________________

Azul Ashengrotto

Before Blot:

He was amused at most, like why would any person carry such a cumbersome thing around.

And they were magicless on top of that. What an odd individual. But for the most part, also didn't pay much attention.

Till the idea of obtaining the Ramshackle dorm. At first the ain't brush was interesting, but he simply assumed that it was some weird decoration.

Yet he did notice Yuu's strange hesitance of water. Specifically the idea of being in water. Azul would happily take advantage of Yuu's fears.

After/during Blot:

This was a frustrating battle for both fighters. Since Azul can keep spewing ink, just as much as Yuu can remove it.

But with the help of allies and friends, Yuu was able to wash away all the ink with their brush and thinner. With a good whack, to bring Azul back to his senses.

Even after the battle, Yuu seemed to refuse to go near the water. A phobia maybe, Azul thought to himself.

Azul is indeed interested in Yuu's power but finds them confusing too. Yuu wants to see the world under the waves, yet refuses to go anywhere near the water.

He tries to ask Jade and Floyd what they know about this student. But not even they could dig anything up about them.

____________________________________

Jamil Viper

Before Blot:

He honestly could care less about them in the start.

He sees them as a perfect pawn to overthrow Kalim. Jamil also notices Yuu's strange fear of water, even if it is in rain form.

But whatever it took to knock Kalim down, he did not care much. Though he did learn some interesting things about them. After using Snake whisper on them.

After/during Blot:

Yuu surprised attacked him, doused him in Thinner, and quickly took him down. Much to Jamil's emmerassement.

Last time he underestimates a person with a giant brush.

During the party in the desert, he saw Yuu sitting in the shade of the trees away from the oasis.

So he sat next to them. "So... Is it true you're made out of paint?"

Part 2, or a focus on one character at a time to have a mini story. (cause I have basically a fan fic Idea in my empty brain)

#twisted oc #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst oc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #epic mickey #epic mickey!reader #twst x reader #twst mc #riddle roseheart x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader

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seeingivy · 2 days

Text

world war sibling

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

“you know, you kind of picked the worst spot for your first.” sukuna mumbles.

“that doesn’t help, sukuna. like in the slightest.”

sukuna retreats his original comment as the buzzing of the tattoo gun starts again, accompanied by your death-like grip on his hand and the tears spilling out of your eyes. and he almost feels bad for his slightly snide comment – which was intended to make you laugh – as he leans forward, wiping away the wetness and sweat on your forehead, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“you’re actually doing great, princess. i cried like a baby during my first.”

“yeah. it was fucking annoying.” toji mutters.

you laugh, earning you a smile from both toji and sukuna, as the former continues buzzing into your arm.

toji, who you can’t help but find familiar, is sukuna’s most trusted tattoo artist. upon their first meeting, he had bent the rules for sukuna at seventeen (i.e. legally under the age for a tattoo) and since then, had been one of sukuna’s favorite artists in the area.

and you could tell why sukuna liked him. he was quiet and serious – sukuna’s favorite type of person – but here and there, would offer some strange story about sukuna from years prior, that made the both of them smile when he recounted the memory.

long story short, he was yet another undercover sap. you were starting to think that sukuna had a type.

“did he really cry?” you ask.

“that’s rich coming from him – he picked a worse spot than you did. i had to stop and give him a break before i could continue.” toji mutters.

you bite down on your lip as you lean against sukuna’s shoulder, the stinging feeling on the inner part of your wrist making your heart race and your head pulsate, as he whispers into your ear, trying to distract you from the pain.

“are you excited for tonight?” sukuna asks.

“yeah.” you whisper.

“where are you going?” he asks.

you whimper in response, to which sukuna clicks his tongue, before asking again.

“the bar on sixteenth. they….oh my fucking god…they have happy hour after five.”

“figured i might as well ask you now before the four of you are drunk out of your mind.” sukuna scoffs.

after what was a painstakingly awkward conversation between you and yuuji three weeks prior, things were slowly returning back to normal, with the smallest of steps. the two of you went back to studying together, and the week prior, you had returned to your usual weekend plans of going out with him, megumi, and kugisaki again.

now and then he’d send you strange buzzfeed quizzes at three in the morning, you would send back pictures of cute dogs at work, and finally resumed your original plans of dinner at your parents every other week.

yuuji and sukuna had yet to cross paths again, except for the curt greetings they’d give each other when yuuji dropped you off or sukuna came to pick you up. sukuna hadn’t gotten over the fact that yuuji had punched you and yuuji…well, he was almost too embarrassed to show his face, let alone even ask for an apology.

yuuji was always like that, so in his head about whatever it was sukuna was thinking. and while normally, you’d encourage him to just talk it out – knowing how sukuna still felt about the entire thing meant that you had tabled trying to get them to get along for the time being.

“that’s it.” toji states, before pushing off of his rolling chair and rummaging through the drawer at his side.

you sit up, blinking the tears out of your eyes, as sukuna leans over your shoulder, the two of you admiring the bloody mess on the inside of your wrist, of a waterlily.

“it’s perfect, birthday girl.” sukuna whispers.

“you think my mom will kill me?” you ask.

“isn’t that kind of the point?”

you laugh as sukuna helps you off the chair and walks you over to the little stand, where toji wraps the area in plastic before walking over to ring you up. and it’s almost a joke – how quickly sukuna snatches your credit card from your fingers, before offering his own.

“i was going to use that.” you deadpan.

“it’s on me. it’s your birthday.”

“you know i don’t –”

“i know you don’t care about birthdays, doll. but i’m not a piece of shit. toji, i’m paying.”

the novelty of birthdays, parties, and celebrations seemed to wear off around the time that you turned twelve. a few embarrassing mishaps – like inviting twenty people to a bowling alley just to have only yuuji show up or not having anyone to invite at all the following year out of mortification led to an almost disdain towards the day.

and after that, the plan was always simple. the night of, the pair of you would go out – originally for ice cream, but those quickly transitioned into sugar sweet margaritas two years ago when you turned twenty-one. and while the plan with yuuji still standing for tonight, sukuna was afforded the entire morning and afternoon.

it was just another day. meaning you and sukuna were going to eat breakfast together – though you did think the little candle he put in your french toast was a cute touch – before heading to your tattoo appointment. he bought you a new pair of earrings and a ribbon for your hair, but only because he insisted that they reminded him of you earlier this week, and obviously had nothing to do with your birthday.

and it was perfect – you were going to walk over to the little arts and crafts store after your tattoo appointment, so you and sukuna could make bracelets together before you had to go to the bar with yuuji. it was yet another silly trend you had seen on tiktok – picking out beads that looked like your partner's eyes – and making bracelets out of them, and sukuna was all too quick to oblige.

sammy was supposed to stop over briefly at some point to drop off a gift and sukuna was going to tuck you into bed at the end of the night.��

you could tell that he was trying really hard to contain it, whatever it was he was feeling over the fact that it was your birthday. because knowing him, if he had his way, he’d be going the entire ten miles and buying you a plethora of gifts and dinners if he could.

but it took a few talks for him to realize it actually made you really uncomfortable. which is the only reason he let you limit him to three gifts (a bridgerton season three mug, a new taylor swift vinyl, and another lingerie set, which he claimed was more for him than it was for you).

and though it was really simple – two red velvet cupcakes on a random park bench and a quiet night out, but you could still feel it. the excessive amounts of kisses he was placing on your shoulder and the way he was opening the doors, that he was trying his best to go above and beyond to make you feel special.

it was sweet. and quiet. just the way you liked it.

you swing open the apartment door to your worst nightmare.

the main room is decked out in streamers, balloons, and a pretty pink banner – all of which sukuna set up the night before when you fell asleep for your breakfast together. you thought it was a little bit over dramatic – decorating the entire place for just the two of you – but you have the slightest hunch that it was more for this.

“did you seriously invite all of them?” you whisper, balling your hands into fists at your side as they all cheer, running over to give you excited hugs.

instead of what you were promised – sammy stopping over briefly to bring you a gift – almost everyone you know is milling around in your apartment. yuuji, kugisaki, and megumi but also maki, gojo, sammy, and shoko.

even megumi’s sister is here.

sukuna mouths i had no idea as sammy walks up to your side, placing a shot in your hand.

“drink up, birthday girl!”

“i’m good, sam. you go ahead.”

“room is really tense. i’d take it if i were you.” sammy mumbles, before walking off.

yuuji walks up to your side, offering you a hug, before pulling back and placing his hands on your shoulders.

“i tried to stop it. but sister dearest insisted.” yuuji whispers.

“oh god, of course she did. did you tell her i would hate this?” you ask.

“i did. and then she said, ‘who hates birthdays?’ and invited everyone anyway.” yuuji responds, perfectly mimicking sammy’s high pitched voice.

you groan.

“did you mention the bowling alley?”

“i did. she responded by saying that means there’s more cake for us.”

yuuji offers you a pinched smile as sukuna snakes his hand across your shoulder, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i swear i had no idea.” sukuna whispers.

“i know. you know how sammy can be. goes a little overboard…kind of stubborn.” you respond.

“you have another problem.” yuuji states.

the two of you turn to your left, as yuuji lifts his hand and awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck.

“you remember maki’s shitty sister?” yuuji asks.

“yeah.”

“she’s your sister’s girlfriend.”

you feel your throat dry as you dart your head to the left – to where kugisaki and maki are swirling a glass of lemonade in their hands with geto – and to then to the right where sammy is rubbing circles into mai’s back, the two of them talking in hushed tones with gojo.

“this city is too fucking small.” you mumble.

“is it that bad?” sukuna asks, his eyes darting between the two of you.

“that’s the understatement of the year. imagine me and sammy on…on like steroids.” you respond, miserably.

“alright, well. megumi and i did at least get sammy to get a cake from chaupain, so how about you just eat it in the corner while sukuna and i do damage control? we’ll just keep them away from each other and try to get them to leave as soon as possible.” yuuji asks.

yuuji looks past your shoulder to where sukuna is standing, waiting for a vote of approval. and given the fact that he basically feels like a fish in water at the current moment, he agrees.

“let’s see the tattoo.” megumi states.

you all but oblige, holding out your wrist for megumi and tsumiki to admire, watching as their attentive eyes note the needle work.

“this is beautiful. why the waterlily?” tsumiki asks.

you smile.

“like monet’s waterlilies. it’s one of my favorite art pieces.” you respond.

“that’s neat. it’s very pretty.” she responds, giving you a warm smile.

“where’d you get it? yuuji has been thinking about getting one.” megumi asks.

“downtown. there’s a tattoo parlor across from that bar that we did glee trivia at once.”

you watch as tsumiki and megumi give each other a look, the former pulling her soft featherlike touch away from your wrist and crossing her arms over her chest.

“who did your tattoo?” megumi asks.

“oh. he’s just some guy sukuna’s friends with. he’s been going to him since he was like seventeen..”

megumi clenches his jaw, before placing his hands at his side.

“black hair, scar near his lip?”

you pause.

“yeah. his name is toji. do you know him or something?” you ask.

“something like that.” megumi responds, before shuffling off towards the drinks.

tsumiki gives you an almost apologetic smile, before leaning forward and whispering in your ear.

“don’t take it personal. he’s our dad.”

“your…”

“yes, our deadbeat dad. it is rather off putting finding out that he’s had money…or you know, a job this entire time, and friends, when we’ve been trying to make ends meet forever. we always had a hunch that he was there but you know, kind of confirms it if you were there this morning.”

you pinch your eyes shut, before placing a hand on her shoulder.

“i’m so sorry.” you mumble.

“you didn’t know. i’m going to check on megumi, though, if that’s okay? you know how he can be.”

“please.”

you drag your tired legs to the corner of the kitchen island, pouring yourself a shot, before slumping down into the chair. and your very futile efforts of getting a second to yourself are all but squashed when you find satoru at your side, sliding a slice of cake your way.

“hi birthday girl.”

you sigh.

“hi satoru. thank you for coming.”

“i do suppose i should apologize for showing up. i didn’t realize you hate birthdays.”

“i don’t hate them, it’s just…the big party thing. not really my jam. for obvious reasons. i just accidentally brought up someone’s deadbeat dad and somehow brought together the most homicidal pair of sisters in japan into my apartment.” you respond.

satoru smiles in response, looking out to the group of them as well.

“it’s basically world war sibling in here right now. but your boys are handling the sisters decently well. and….getting along for once.”

you smile, looking over at sukuna and sammy on the left.

“i know, right? it’s actually kind of cute. they keep looking over at each other every few minutes and giving each other thumbs up to confirm it’s still going good.” you mumble.

“kind of expected. both of them are half responsible for making your worst nightmare happen on your birthday of all days, it makes sense that they’d put their shit aside for one second to make it at least a little bit better.” satoru states.

sukuna looks over at you, shooting you a weary glance – like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling – which you shake off.

“plus, at some point, they’re going to realize that it’s better for both of their interests to get along again. maybe this is when it’ll happen and then something good will come out of your birthday.” satoru adds.

you pause, looking down to continue demolishing the frosting of the cake with the fork.

“you’re quite hopeful.”

“i mean, yeah. they’re brothers and they were starting to get close again and that’s part of it. but at some point, they’re going to understand that it’s going to cause a real block for both of them if they continue acting the way they do. sukuna’s your boyfriend but yuuji’s been the first person you’ve gone to your entire life. can’t exactly give one up for the other.”

you smile.

“you think about this an awful lot, don’t you?”

“suguru and i talk about it in bed every night before we go to sleep. it is riveting.” satoru affirms.

“i’m glad we could provide some entertainment for you.” you respond, giving him a smile.

in the three seconds you look away, whatever tension that was boiling in the room seems to come to a head, when maki and mai seemed to have both reached for the last piece of cake – and both of their guard dogs, kugisaki and sammy, were ready to fight over it.

“just split it in fucking half.” sukuna mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“that’s a great idea! i’ll do it for you guys, here.” yuuji responds, before getting four pairs of irritated eyes staring at him, as he retreats his hands.

you sigh as you walk up to their sides, satoru on your heels, as you take the spot in between sukuna and yuuji. the two of them give you a pinched smile that barely meets their eyes.

“i didn’t eat the slice that gojo brought me yet. you’re more than welcome to take mine.” you offer.

“okay yeah, that’s fine. you guys can take the leftovers.” sammy responds.

kugisaki rolls her eyes.

“why should we take it? we reached for it first.” kugisaki mutters.

mai turns to sammy, shaking her head.

“it’s fine, sammy. you guys have it.” mai responds.

“typical. trying to take the higher ground to look good, aren’t you?” maki asks.

“well, leave it to you to make a scene at your friend’s birthday party.” mai mutters back.

maki scoffs.

“she’s your girlfriend’s sister. you’re just trying to do the right thing to look a certain way, like you always fucking do. it’s the same shit you do with our parents and –” maki starts.

“okay, guys. there’s kind of a time and place for this type of thing and –” yuuji starts.

“shut up, yuuji.” kugisaki and maki shout in unison.

sukuna clenches his jaw.

“okay, seriously. that’s enough. just take a beat and walk away. all four of you.” sukuna mutters, as the two of them walk off.

sukuna’s tone is intimidating enough to get all of them to back off. and you lean back against the counter, watching as they both sulk off into their respective corners, as you rub the sides of your temples. sammy joins you at your side, taking an awkwardly long sip of her lemonade, as you sigh.

“are you going to take yuuji and sukuna’s advice next time? i really do hate birthday parties.” you ask.

sammy turns to her side, her eyes incredulous.

“you can’t be serious. you’re not blaming that on me, right?” sammy asks.

you widen your eyes.

“what?”

“i was just trying to do a nice thing for you. all of these people wanted to see you, for your birthday, and you were just kind of side sweeping all of them. how was i supposed to know that mai’s sister was going to be here?”

you groan.

“i was obviously joking, sammy. trying to lighten the mood and all.”

“you’re the queen of passive aggressiveness. i know you weren’t. god forbid, we can’t all be like your boy toys and spend our entire life trying to read your mind since you can’t seem to say whatever is on it.”

you roll your eyes.

“so what if i wasn’t joking? you clearly need to hear it when all you do is just what you think is best. i wasn’t side sweeping any of them, most of them would have understood if i just wanted to spend the day the way i usually do.”

yuuji tries to interject.

“listen. i think we’re all feeling a lot of things right now –”

“you don’t have to read my mind when there were two people right there telling you that i would have hated it. you just purposely chose not to listen.” you finish.

“you’re shitty. i was just trying to be nice. and then you wonder why i never want to talk to you.”

yuuji can tell it stings from the way your face falls.

“sammy, come on. it’s –” yuuji starts.

you suppose you should be thankful that no one got injured this time. because in the split second that sammy tries to shove yuuji away and tell him to butt out of it, he accidentally backs his elbow into the little rack, sending two of the mugs shattering to the floor.

it takes one peak to realize that one of them is the one sukuna quite literally unboxed for you this morning. you didn’t even have a chance to use it.

you turn to sukuna, who gives you what might be the most irritated look you’ve ever seen him muster, before he shuffles towards the closet for the broom. you’re sure that sammy takes some type of hint that it’s time for her to go and geto’s able to wrangle the rest of them to leave too as sukuna shuffles up the glass.

it’s a quick exodus after that, the room so tense with the heat in the air that almost everyone was scrambling to get out to take a breath. sukuna isn’t halfway to closing the door on geto and gojo when the tears start bubbling out of your eyes, warm and hot on your cheeks.

“oh, angel. come here.” sukuna whispers, opening up his arms as you dig your forehead into his shoulder.

you can hear yuuji shuffling behind the two of you, boxing the last of the leftovers, as you cry into sukuna’s shoulder, making a considerably large snot and tear filled stain on your shirt.

“i hate my birthday. this is…this is so fucking stupid, sukuna.”

sukuna rubs circles into your back, before wrapping his hand around your cheek and wiping the mess of glitter and tears away.

“like, i know i shouldn’t expect much but i just wanted to have a nice day. it’s so stupid that sammy’s so stubborn that she invited everyone. and i know i should have had fun but…but everything just kept going wrong.”

sukuna can tell that you’re subconsciously reaching for your hair, pulling down on your locks and pulling out strays. because while you had left your picking at your skin habits for bad moments, you seemed to angrily pull at your head when you were tense.

“turn around.” sukuna murmurs, as you heave a sigh and continue your rant as sukuna tasks himself with braiding your hair.

“toji is megumi’s dad. and now i’m scared i made him feel like shit by bringing it up. and i know i didn’t do anything wrong but if someone just randomly brought up my deadbeat dad i wouldn’t feel great about it either.”

“i’m sure he’s not mad at you, baby.” sukuna offers.

“and fucking sammy. we were just getting along but…but she always does shit like this. i wasn’t blaming her for what happened, but i damn well could have. if literally the two people who know me the best are teling you that i wouldn’t enjoy this, why would you go ahead and do it anyways? and then on top of that, a whole fucking scene where she ended up yelling at me.”

“do you want me to kill her?”

“would you? she pushed yuuji and it broke our mugs.”

sukuna finishes the end of the braid and secures it with an elastic, before placing his hands on your shoulder and swinging you back around to face him.

“i’ll get you another one.”

“aren’t they limited edition?”

“i’ll bid on ebay. it’s not a big deal.”

“sukuna.”

“i had to bid on the first two on ebay anyways. i can literally just do it again baby, it’s not a big deal.”

two feet away, yuuji feels like he’s intruding. and living in an alternate universe. because it’s the first time he’s seen you like this with someone else – venting so openly, accepting his affections so freely as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulls at your wrists to stop you from picking at your skin.

and sukuna seems like an entire stranger. brushing his fingers against your cheek so gently, the tone in his voice so uncharacteristically soft as he tries to comfort you. bidding on flowery mugs on ebay, braiding your hair to get you to stop pulling at it.

yuuji feels guilty. maybe he really did have it all wrong. because the things that sukuna was doing were so arbitrary, but they were making all the difference at curbing the tears pouring out of your eyes.

maybe he just didn't get it.

“now mention the good things.” sukuna states.

you glare at him.

“there are no good things.”

sukuna spares a glance over his shoulder to yuuji, gesturing for him to join, before looking back at you.

“really? you can’t even think of one?”

yuuji catches his drift as he walks up to your side, slinging his arm around your shoulder.

“you’re a smart girl. you can figure it out.” yuuji offers.

you roll your eyes.

“and now you two are ganging up on me. is this really the time?”

the two of them laugh, even more delighted when you crack a smile for the first time in hours, before the two of them give each other a nod and wrap both of their arms around you.

“still nothing good?” yuuji asks.

“nope. you’re both crushing me to death. and you smell.”

sukuna presses a kiss to your forehead and yuuji pinches at the side of your cheek.

“how about now?” sukuna asks.

“you guys are kind of annoying, you know that?”

you pull back, placing a hand on both of their shoulders, and darting your eyes between the two of them.

“are you guys being buddies for my birthday or are you actually making up?”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“obviously the latter. we aren’t sisters.”

“you’re fucking kidding. like the two of you are any better.” you state.

yuuji scoffs.

“they broke two whole fucking ceramic mug. and ruined a birthday party. sisters are a whole different ballpark.”

“you punched me in the face and ruined a family dinner. how is that any different?”

sukuna and yuuji both scoff, before yuuji reaches forward to pinch your cheek.

“are you going to hold that over my head forever?”

“basically. for both of you actually.”

sukuna shuffles over to the fridge, tasking himself with stacking the freshly made boxes of cake in the fridge.

“i think we’ll live.”

three days later, with all the leftover heaviness from your birthday gone, yuuji takes you out for drinks on your birthday. and while sammy gave you a halfhearted apology, you swallowed it down for the tiem being and let it go.

things were well – with yuuji and sukuna getting along and things being somewhat on the come up with sammy. though that feeling only lasts a few hours before sukuna sends you six calls, the seventh of which you finally answer when you make your way out of the bar.

“hi sukuna. you okay?”

you hear a sniffle on the other side of the phone.

“how drunk are you?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“what?”

“can you drive or do i need to come get you guys?”

you cover your free ear with your hand, trying to tune out the blaring music, as you press the phone against your ear harder.

“i can drive, i barely had half of my margarita. is everything –”

“you need to come to my mom’s house. as soon as possible. leave now.”

“is everything fi –”

“my dad is dead. as soon as you can, y/n.”

next part linked here

an: ok my set up was done sorry for this ass chapter again the next few will be considerably better since i've been planning them out properly

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @wishmemel @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

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togament · 2 days

Note

Hello ✨

How are you doing? It has been a while, since I've been so obsessed with an anime and an anime boy at that 😩 Could I ask for general romantic to naughty Headcanons for Hayato Suo with a female reader?

It would be absolutely lovely 💕 Thank you

hullo, anon! welcome welcome to the winbre fandom ✨ pull up a chair, relax and brainrot with us why wontcha?

suo is such an enigma — he’s so hard to read but he’s so… open at the same time? love him to bits tho. ok onto the romantic, sappy, filthy and sexy headcanons for our eye-patch having pretty boy.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : fem!reader, suo eaaaaats, suo's mean :c, READER BEGS, heavy on the teasing

NSFW under the cut later. so pls, MDNI ok? besitos mua.

S F W .

absolute gentleman. this man will open doors for you, hold your purse without any embarrassment, bring you 'just because' bouquets and celebratory bouquets, wine and dine you. you are absolutely a spoiled son of a gun with suo everybody around you is kinda jealous of it.

loves it when you smell him. LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME HE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE HE SMELLS GREAT. I DARE YOU. DOUBLE DARE YOU. he rarely ever breaks a sweat in fights and on hot summer days it's weird. he finds it endearing when you lean close to him to smell his shirt or coat. (he sneaks in forehead kisses that way :)))))) ) ((he smells lightly of soap, heavy on the sandalwood incense, clove and patchouli and you can't tell me otherwise.))

has to have your hand in his at all times. no matter what. he likes teasing sakura and nirei whenever he catches them eyeing you both subtly (little shit). if you're averse to physical touch, don't fret. just having you close to him is enough.

is great at giving massages. LISTEN. have you seen his hands? HI??? your man gives you the best back rubs, can wring out the worst knots on your body like no big deal. it's almost like it comes naturally for him. soft pressure? he's got you. medium? sure. hard pressure? "are you certain, dove?" well... okay.

HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE. he is at your beck and call 24/7. a lover, personal chef, masseuse, help and a bodyguard rolled into one. he does anything and everything for you without questioning it. he's just happy you're happy.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

N S F W .

absolute gentleman has a mean streak. "you're gushing all over me, dove." he coos against your skin, a nasty smirk painted across his beautiful features. his fingers expertly prodding you. fuck. he knows your body better than you do. "give me another." he adds harshly, his tone a dark contrast from his previous softness. he's pulling another orgasm from your cunt. the naughty, wet squelching reverberating through your bedroom. he loves fucking you slow but god he loves it even more when you're a quivering, fucked out mess on his fingers. his little doll.

loves it when you smell him loves smelling you. ever notice your favorite panties disappearing from your laundry hamper only to have it materialize in your closet, neatly folded? you could have sworn you didn't wash and fold it-- blame your lover. he likes stealing your used panties, holding it to his nose as he takes a deep inhale. his other hand is on his pretty cock, pumping desperately, animalistic. it doesn't even seem like it's him at that moment. when he eats you out, first thing you feel touch your cunt isn't his tongue. it's always, always his nose.

has to have his hand in his at all times has to have his fingers stuffed inside you at all times. as soon as you both are alone, he's all over you. panties slid to the side, alternating between rubbing your clit and fucking you on his slender fingers. he needs you to get a quick nut out for him before the others return -- can you manage?

is great at giving massages--and loves teasing you while doing it. "s-suo.. please..." you whimper below him while he's massaging your thighs, brushing his fingers against your cunt but just missing it by a little bit. he chuckles, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "relax, dove. you're tensing up again." he says as he does it again, now fully rubbing your clit for a moment before pulling away abruptly. you curse under your breath. "don't tell me you want me to stop." he teases, an annoying lilt to his voice. he knows what he's doing to you.

HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE loves giving and giving and giving. this man. THIS MAN. he loves eating pussy. and I mean LOVES eating pussy. he could bust from eating you out alone -- he's not even jacking himself off. he's soiled a couple of his pants before. you wouldn't know. he loves listening to your breathing go from soft heaves to staggered. if you wanted to ask him to eat you out, he's already on his knees before you finish your sentence. make sure you're ready to cum more than 3 times.

a/n: ehe this was fun. suo's so fun to write. he's so filthyyyyyy UGHHHHHHHHH. i hope you liked it, bbs.

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii)#windbreaker (satoru nii)#hayato suo #hayato suo x reader #suo x reader #windbreaker smut #wind breaker smut #hayato suo smut #bibi spicy asks

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rottiens · 3 days

Note

Right now I'm imagining Wriothesley and us sneaking into Neuvillette's library, and he may or may have not had us pinned against rolling ladder and nearly devours us with his kisses and hands, and we try our best to keep quiet to not get caught smooching the Duke.

⊹ ˚. WRIOTHESLEY ┊18+ , established relationship, almost getting caught, he puts his hand on your neck insinuating, praising (good girl), fem bodied reader. . divider creds: cafekitsune.

The Duke holds your hand tightly, he sticks you to his body almost as if he's afraid you're going to disappear as the two of you trot off hiding in the corridors from the person guarding the big library.

You shouldn't be here, so this is exactly why it makes it more exciting, it has your heart galloping against your ribs, your sweaty hand slipping between his. The Duke so fearsome to many, to you only Wriothesley; your boyfriend, the one who ends up getting himself into trouble and predicaments that he then doesn't know how to get out of- brings his index finger to his lips followed by a hiss, his eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the silence of the great library, so quiet you could hear the dust fluffs sticking to the books and finally, a door opening and closing in a sharp creak of the wood.

“That was close,” you whisper, not wanting to risk being caught even though your senses assure you it's just the two of you.

“I was hoping he'd catch us.” Immediately your hand gently taps his shoulder, Wriothesley groans, crumpling his face in seemingly unbearable pain.

“I can't stand you. We'll get in trouble with Neuvillette.”

He rolls his eyes inevitably, his arms snaking around your waist and grounding on your ass, you gasp, opening your eyes wide, feigning innocence.

“It's annoying that you admire him so much.” His voice drips with desire bordering on a tease as he maintains eye contact the entire time his hands wander down your dress, and through your panties. The sensation of skin on skin makes you take a deep breath, his hands, by his vision, are always cold so it's impossible for you not to gasp at the sensation as his fingers push a little more of the cotton material.

“I just think he's really cool…” you gasp.

“Please, no more chatter about him. I brought you to see the biggest library in all of Fontaine and that's all you have to say?”

Your flirtatious giggle is interrupted by the intrusion of a finger pushing and searching for something inside you, massaging gently. You drop your eyelids, your fingers reaching for his uniform and crinkling it as your hips rub against his hand.

“I like that face,” Wriothesley says, taking you by the chin to make you look at him. Then he leans in and gives you a soft kiss, the action making you squeeze around him which makes him brush a chuckle against your mouth. “So needy already?”

You say his name, hungry, desperate. You push into his mouth but he denies you by rolling his neck back.

“Talk to me.”

Eyes intent on every little detail of his face and with your pussy spread open by his fingers, dripping down your thighs, you breathe as best you can, raggedly.

“I love it. Thank you for bringing me to see the- ah!, Fontaine's greatest library.”

“And?”

“I love you…more than I would love to meet him in person.”

“Thank you.” He comes closer, killer smile seizing his mouth. His fingers push and go deep, free hand curling around your throat. “Now, who's making you feel good?”

“You… Wrio-”

“Good girl,” he breathes against your half-open lips. “And who owns this pussy?”

“You,” you sob again, your knees failing you and he must hold you steady by squeezing around your throat gently.

“Don't give up now, baby. You're almost there I can feel it…”

The door creaks open… your eyes are alert and you find that caramel look in him that warns you he won't stop: quite the contrary, you feel him going faster, sticky clicks reach your ears and you fear that the person at the entrance might hear them too.

The guard exchanges a brief dialogue with someone - Neuvillette. Guilty and aware you look at Wriothesley who kisses you to shut you up, it's messy and sloppy, you feel against your thighs the way you know this situation turns him on too.

“Give it to me now. I want your cum to be dripping down your thighs when you squeeze his hand and finally meet him in person…”

#wr #lovers ₊˚ᰔ #I love you and your great ideas #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley smut

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thatdammchickennugget · 2 days

Text

Twists Of Fate

pairing -james potter x fem!reader

summary - a chance reunion at a wedding leads to unexpected sparks between you and james

warnings - shitty ex, james is a danger to everyone around him, fluff

wordcount - 2.2k

You're standing near the edge of the dance floor, nursing a glass of champagne and pretending to be deeply interested in the intricacies of your friend's wedding decor. The fairy lights twinkle overhead, casting a warm glow on the happy couples swirling around you. You try to focus on the joy of the occasion, but your mind keeps drifting back to the events of the past few weeks.

Your ex-boyfriend, the one who decided that your relationship wasn't worth more than a passing fling, is here. And not only is he here, but he's here with a new girl, draped on his arm like the latest fashion accessory. Every time you catch sight of them, your heart twists painfully in your chest.

"Hey, you look great," he says after walking up to you, a smug smile playing on his lips as his new girlfriend giggles beside him. "Too bad things didn't work out between us, huh?"

Before you can formulate a response that doesn't involve throwing your drink in his face, he leans in closer, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I hope we can still be friends, you know? It's not like we ended things on bad terms or anything."

You bite back a bitter laugh, nodding along as if his words actually mean something to you. In your opinion, him cheating on you and then blaming his mistake on you left you far from ‘on good terms’. Inside, you're seething with anger and frustration. How dare he waltz in here with his new conquest, acting like he's the picture of decency?

But just as you're about to excuse yourself and find someplace else to drown your sorrows, a voice interrupts.

"Sweetheart, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

You blink in surprise as James Potter, of all people, strides up to you, an easy grin on his face. He slips an arm around your waist, drawing you close. His touch is warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the icy dread pooling in your stomach.

"James?" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

Of course you remember him from school. Everyone knew of him. You had talked to him once in a while during your time at school, mostly when he found himself interrupting your study sessions with Remus in the library, but since graduating two years ago your paths hadn’t crossed again until right now.

He doesn't miss a beat, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Sorry I'm late, love. Got caught up trying to find a decent tie. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one that matches your eyes?"

Your eyes fall down to his broad chest on their own accord, and to your surprise, his tie actually happens to match almost perfectly.

Your ex is staring, slack-jawed, clearly not expecting this turn of events. James turns to him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't think we've met. I'm James, her date."

"Date?" your ex echoes, the smugness evaporating from his expression.

"Yes, date," James repeats cheerfully, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You know, the person you bring to events like this to remind you what it's like to have someone who actually appreciates your company. But hey, I get it, it can be confusing for some people."

You can't help but stifle a laugh at the way he says it, his tone so breezy and unbothered. You decide to play along, slipping your arm around his in return.

"Thanks for coming to find me," you say, trying to sound as natural as possible. "I was just about to head back to the dance floor."

James winks at you, his grin widening. "Anything for you, darling."

As he leads you away, you glance back to see your ex still standing there, looking utterly flabbergasted. It's a small victory, but it feels monumental.

"You didn't have to do that," you murmur once you're out of earshot.

James shrugs, his expression softening. "Seemed like you could use a hand. Plus, it’s always fun to mess with someone who clearly deserves it."

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"Oh, I plan to collect," he says with a teasing glint in his eye. "But for now, how about a dance? You know, to really sell the whole 'date' thing."

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, Potter. One dance."

As you follow James onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, its lively beat washing away the lingering discomfort from the encounter. James wastes no time in taking the lead, his movements smooth and confident as he guides you through the crowd.

"So," he says, his voice close to your ear as he spins you effortlessly, "how's life been treating you since Hogwarts?"

You can't help but chuckle at his casual demeanor, the tension of the evening melting away with every step. "Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to navigate the treacherous waters of adulting and all that."

James grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, yes, the dreaded adulting. I hear it's a real beast but I wouldn’t know anything about that."

You nod in agreement, your laughter mingling with the music. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to worrying about O.W.L.s and Quidditch matches."

"Hey, at least in the wizarding world, adulting comes with the added bonus of using magic without getting into trouble," James quips, twirling you expertly before pulling you back into his arms. "Although, I suppose dealing with an ex at a wedding could be considered a form of dark magic."

You playfully swat at his arm, unable to suppress a grin. "You're terrible, you know that?"

He grins back, his eyes alight with mischief. "Guilty as charged. But hey, at least I'm charmingly terrible."

As the song shifts to a more upbeat tempo, James takes advantage of the moment to unleash his dance moves. Except, instead of smooth and confident, his movements are more like a cross between a flailing Hippogriff and a clumsy first-year attempting a Transfiguration spell.

You can't help but burst into laughter at the sight of him, his arms flapping wildly and his feet stumbling over each other. "Merlin's beard, James! Are you trying to hex the dance floor or something?"

He shoots you a mock offended look, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oi, watch it! I'll have you know, I'm a dance prodigy in the making."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to contain your grin. "Prodigy? More like a disaster waiting to happen."

Undeterred, James continues to dance with reckless abandon, his movements becoming increasingly exaggerated with each passing moment. He spins and twirls, his limbs flying in all directions as if controlled by an unseen force.

"Alright, alright, I admit it," he says between gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed with exertion. "Maybe I'm not the next Fred Astaire, but at least I'm having fun. And getting to see that pretty smile of yours is worth making a fool of myself."

You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you at James's words, his sincerity cutting through the playful banter. Despite his less-than-graceful moves, there's an endearing charm to his earnestness that you can't help but admire.

"Well, in that case," you say with a teasing grin, "I suppose I can forgive your questionable dancing skills."

James grins back, his eyes shining with amusement. "Gee, thanks. I'll try not to let it go to my head."

As the music continues to pulse around you, you find yourself caught up in the moment, dancing with James in a whirlwind of laughter and joy. Together, you move in sync, your steps perfectly imperfect as you twirl and sway to the rhythm of the music.

Just as you're both getting into the swing of things, James's exuberant movements nearly send him crashing into an elderly witch who's been watching the dance floor with a bemused expression. You gasp, reaching out instinctively to steady her, but James, ever the smooth talker, beats you to it.

"Whoa there, almost lost my footing!" James exclaims, flashing the woman his most charming smile. "But don't worry, I'm as steady as a Hippogriff on a broomstick."

The elderly witch chuckles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, steady or not, you certainly know how to liven up a party, young man."

James grins, his charm dial turned up to maximum. "Why, thank you, ma'am. It's all in a day's work for a dashing wizard like myself."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his shameless flattery, but the elderly witch seems thoroughly charmed, her laughter filling the air as James regales her with tales of his misadventures on the dance floor.

After a few minutes of chatting, you gently suggest that perhaps it's best to continue the conversation off the dance floor to avoid any more accidents. The elderly witch nods in agreement, bidding James farewell with a fond pat on the arm.

As you lead James away, the two of you share a knowing grin. "Smooth move, Potter," you tease, nudging him playfully.

James chuckles as he throws an arm over your shoulders. "What can I say? Charming old witches is just one of my many talents."

You shake your head in mock exasperation, but there's a warmth spreading through you at the easy camaraderie between you. Despite the chaos of the evening, being with James feels surprisingly natural, as if you were hanging out with an old friend rather than just an aquaintance.

At the bar, James orders a couple of drinks, and you find a quiet corner to settle into. The soft glow of the fairy lights creates an intimate atmosphere, and as you sip your drink, you find yourself relaxing in his company.

"So," James begins, leaning back in his chair with a playful glint in his eyes, "tell me something interesting about yourself that I wouldn't know from our Hogwarts days."

You ponder for a moment, swirling the liquid in your glass thoughtfully. "Well, I've developed quite the talent for baking since leaving school. There's something therapeutic about kneading dough and watching it rise."

James raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Is that so? I'll have to enlist you as my personal pastry chef sometime."

You laugh, nudging him playfully. "Don't get your hopes up. My baking skills might be up to par with your dancing."

James chuckles. "Well, I guess that means we'll have to stick to takeout for our first date then."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Are you asking me out on a date, Potter?"

James leans in, his grin widening. "Consider it a formal invitation. How about dinner at that new Italian place in Diagon Alley tomorrow? I hear they have the best tiramisu."

You pretend to mull it over, though your heart is already racing with excitement. "Hmm, Italian food and dessert? Sounds tempting. I suppose I could pencil you into my busy schedule."

James feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Penciled in? I demand top priority, thank you very much."

You laugh, the warmth of his playful banter melting away any lingering reservations. "Alright, you win. Dinner it is."

"Excellent," James says with a satisfied grin. "I'll pick you up at seven, then?"

You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation at the prospect of spending more time with him. "Seven it is. I'll be ready."

As you both finish your drinks, James suddenly feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see the elderly witch from earlier, a twinkle in her eye.

"Excuse me, young man," she says with a smile, "but would you care to dance with an old lady like me?"

James's grin widens at the unexpected invitation. "Of course, I'd be honored!"

He shoots you an apologetic look before following the woman onto the dance floor, leaving you chuckling at his eagerness. Watching James twirl the elderly witch with surprising grace, you can't help but feel a fondness for him grow.

As you observe them dance, you realize just how lucky you are to have him by your side tonight. Despite the chaos of the wedding and the presence of your ex, James has managed to turn what could have been a disastrous evening into one filled with laughter and joy.

After a few minutes, James returns to your side with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. Couldn't resist the opportunity to show off my moves to a new audience."

You laugh, shaking your head in amusement. "No need to apologize. You’re quite the hit out there."

James beams at the compliment, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Well, I aim to please."

As you both make your way towards the exit and he bids you farewell with a cheesy kiss on your hand, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Tomorrow's date with James suddenly feels like the highlight of your week, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection will take you.

James Taglist - @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @starsval @whoknowsbut @gayforyelena @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @helpimhopelesslyinlove @Yhiiil @themarauderswife7 @ihatemyexs @starsval @bath1lda @Allshitsangiggles @mildly-delulu @vcosette @rinalouu @agent-tempest @S0urw00lf @pinkestfloyd @l0v3do11 @Unstablereader @wolfstar-marvelsfan @captainstanksblog @pinktreee @ceehance @andrew-and-flower @cas-planet @csmt_m @poppysrin @camille-1019 @Laniirackssss @bshwrites @slytherinambitious @notyaslol @txzii @yourenogoodforme @starzioo @darkenwolfie @bunnyweasley23

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#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauder x reader #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #mari writes

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ghoulphile · 6 hours

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no use cryin' over spilled milk | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.8 k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, frottage, lactation kink, pregnant!reader, fingerfucking, praise kink, breast play, the ghoul calls reader pretty mama, he's a pervert who wants to lend a 'helping' hand ➥ summary | based off this ask; oops being an experiment from vault 4 where you may be the first rad resistant human pregnant with a possibly rad resistant baby, and you come across the ghoul who helps you get to a safe place but then he gets attached with you and the baby 🥺 (this is just me trying to insert a lactation kink somewhere i'm sorry) ➥ notes | uhhhh pls let me know if i missed anything, my brain is dribbling out my ears (its 3:44 am and i have work at 8 am rip) but the parasites persist. i'll do the tag list when i wake up ❤️ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Going topside wasn’t an easy decision.

In fact, bile bitter regret often lingers in the back of your throat - a lump that stifled the air in your lungs.

And while you might’ve been bioengineered to survive better under these harsh wasteland conditions, every time you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you're catapulted headlong into paralyzing self doubt; alone and rudderless.

No one lives in the vaults - not truly.

Birdie (and the others) warned you of what awaited beyond those lead-lined walls. But you couldn’t abide spending the rest of your life trapped in a cage, albeit a gilded one.

Not anymore.

Oh no, you wanted to feel a real breeze instead of air pumped through the HVAC. Experience the sun baking warm into your skin like fresh bread instead of the artificial heat of the UV lamp used for mandatory light therapy sessions. Complain about the chafe of sand in your shoes and hear the crunch of dirt under foot instead of a hollow clunk of sterile metal.

To witness first hand all the sights, sounds, and smells this world offers.

Only… you didn’t expect it to be this hard.

Nor did you expect to be pregnant when setting off into the great unknown on your own (a definite oversight on your part [you really shouldn’t have had one last hurrah before hitting the road]).

Through trial and error, motion sicknesses that swing into crippling nausea as manic energy - your first taste of true freedom! - dwindled into dragging fatigue, you found a happy medium. None of which would have been possible had it not been for the most unlikely of companions.

Ghouls; who knew, huh?

Sure, you’d heard of them from the rotating door of visitors that found themselves at Vault 4, but you’d never seen them. While you grew up surrounded by visible mutations, seeing the battlefield of his body was off putting; how a person could survive a patina of burns and patchwork slices without unraveling at the seams was beyond you.

And kind of frightening.

But he took it in stride, introducing himself as Ghoul. Refused to divulge anything else of substance no matter how much you poked and prodded. His life pre-bomb was a complete mystery filled with plot holes and unanswered questions (which is exactly what he preferred).

You learned to be comfortable with his meandering conversations, and all the words he spoke that said much of nothing. And what you did glean, you did so through observation alone.

He was alone - had been for a very long time.

He was very old - one of the last of his kind.

And he was, in his own way, very kind - at least by wasteland standards.

“The fuck you doin’?”

Pausing, you stop mid push and hover awkwardly on your hands and knees. The vault suit pulls taut across your hips, pinching behind your knees uncomfortably. Your toes squeak in your shoes, socks thoroughly soaked through with sweat.

It’s been unseasonably hot (or it’s the hormones). Whatever the case, this is the first semi-decent lodging you’ve camped in for weeks, and you’re not about to miss an opportunity to freshen up.

And maybe find a way to soothe the building ache in your tits - flesh swollen tender and nipples rubbed raw.

“I’m just, uh, gonna,” you motion towards the back of the house, the askew bathroom door clinging to its hinges by a corner, “y’know, f-freshen up. See if they don’t still have some water.”

The Ghoul scans you up and down, gimlet-eyed. “S’that so?”

You huff, your knees starting to ache.

Being five months pregnant throws your center of gravity for a loop, gravity weighing extra heavy on your bones. It doesn’t help that the baby’s decided sitting directly on your bladder with a foot tucked under your ribs is the best position.

“Didn’t know I needed permission to take a piss now,” you snipe. Usually, you try to reign in the hormones but the day’s been too long and you’re in pain. Anyone would be a little snippy (right?). “Can I do that on my own or do you need to watch, Mr. Ghoul?”

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze glinting from beneath the rim of his hat as he tips his head. “Better watch it, sweetheart,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have’ta wash your mouth out with soap.”

Pushing yourself up with a grunt, you determinedly ignore the raspy chuckle that follows as you waddle towards the bathroom. Cussing him out all the while in your mind.

While he’s been ‘nicer’ today - stopping for extra breaks, even packing it in several hours earlier than usual because he noticed how weary you looked - he’s still an asshole.

The toilet’s gone, the tub’s tipped sideways, the linoleum’s cracked, and closing the door sounds like a pack of howling mole rats but its functional. When you catch your reflection in the spider web fractures of the mirror, you grimace.

The wastes have certainly left their mark on you. Gone is the prim-and-proper vault dweller, replaced by a gremlin of a woman Overseer Benjamin would surely scowl at.

A true ‘surfie’ now.

“Great,” you groan, scrubbing a palm over your face. “Just - ugh!”

You’re caked in grime, a steak of dirt smeared across the bridge of your nose. Mysterious stains darken the blue fabric, the golden stripes of your suit an off-putting grey.

Your hair clumps in greasy chunks. You’re glossy with sweat, and while your curves have plumped up over the last few months, you didn’t realize just how much until now.

The vault suit’s always been tight - now it clings and creases in unflattering places. And there’s nothing you can do about it, unless the Ghoul is willing to spare a sewing kit.

You could let the waist out some…

What the hell am I gonna do if he won’t? There’s no way I’ll fit if this baby gets any bigger. Shit, I look like a fucking sausage. Your hand cradles the side of your stomach, stroking over the bump with a frown. This is all your fault, you little parasite.

“You better be so fucking cute - the cutest goddamn baby in the wasteland. Or I will riot.”

Tugging down the zipper over your breasts is heaven, the swollen flesh spilling out of the parting fabric, no longer compressed. It’s almost enough to make you cry as you struggle to tug the lycra off your shoulders, the fabric putting up a fight.

After some awkward contortions that pull uncomfortably at the muscles of your shoulder blades, you manage to wrangle yourself free.

The temptation to burn the stupid goddamn suit is almost too much to resist, but then you’d really be traipsing around the wasteland in the nude and just… no.

Peeling off your undershirt is another story altogether, the soft cotton feeling like sandpaper as it scrapes over sensitive skin. Your nerves tingle with awareness, bolts of pain shooting through your nipples with every shift.

Quick like a bandaid, you think, taking a steadying inhale.

It’s a miracle you don’t scream.

Tears cling to your lashes, your nose running as you toss the shirt to the side with one hand and cradle your chest with the other. Sure, you’ve had tenderness with your period but this kind of pain? A whole new level.

You almost don’t know what to do with yourself.

How is this fair - aren’t you suffering enough?

Sniffling, you peer down at your tits and gingerly cup them with your palms. Swollen hard and warm to the touch; a heavy weight crushing your ribs.

Do I really have to milk myself like a fucking brahmin? Another bolt of lightning crackles through your nerve endings as if in response. Fine. God, this is embarrassing.

Only any attempt at touching your nipples produces pure agony, shards of glass biting into delicate skin.

No matter how slight your touch, no matter how gentle your fingers - it doesn’t work. Leaves you more distraught and in pain than when you began as inflamed nerve endings crackle and burn.

And when the tears truly start, the dam breaks. It’s not long before they drip down your cheeks in fat rivulets, your breath hitching from you in pathetic little exhales.

Your fist shoves against your mouth in an attempt to smother the sounds, teeth sinking into your knuckle until you leave sore indents.

But you should know better, not only does the Ghoul have heightened senses (he’s taunted you constantly with this fact like the asshole he is), but he’s uncannily perceptive in a very annoying way.

You don’t hear the squeal of the door, but you do sense his presence behind you; the rad warm burn of his body as he stops a scant few inches away. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, the barest brush of his chest as he inhales.

“You ready ta stop bein’ stubborn?” he hums. “I thought I told you not ta wait s’long.”

Your voice warbles from you, “G’way.” You curl into yourself, shoulders hunching as you hang your head. “Don’t need your help.”

The Ghoul snorts. “Cuz you doin’ so well on your own, huh?”

“I resent that.” You shoot him a weak glare, the animosity ruined by the crumble of your lips. “I really, really do.”

You hate always having to rely on him, so desperate to prove that you can take care of yourself only to have every effort to do so thrown back in your face.

Shit, you hate how right Birdie was, “Honey, you won’t last five minutes on your own. Please stay here with us where it’s safe.”

“Well, maybe so. But pickers can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a languid roll of the shoulders. “Ain’t no use cryin’ over spilled milk. C’mon, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gon be.”

“I just - you don’t understand…”

He reaches around you to set his hat on the sink, the dwindling light of twilight creeping in through the holes in the roof to bathe him in its bloody light.

He looks like a grotesque demon that clawed its way from the depths of hell. It gets your pulse thudding, electric awareness an unwelcome visitor as it roosts behind your navel.

“I understand plenty. Now, let me.”

Not an offer - not really.

More akin to a demand, one wrapped up pretty like a gift. You’ve been here many times before, and while the Ghoul proffers his help under the guise of not wanting to hear your bitching and moaning, the hungry gleam of his eyes as they rake over your face say otherwise.

If it’s one thing you’ve learned in your travels with him, it’s this: he is entirely self-serving. He offers because he wants to suck on a set of pretty tits. If you happen to cream your panties while he does, well, he counts it as a win-win.

Quid pro quo.

And what you hate more than how utterly correct everyone is about life on the surface, is how needy he makes you. How desperate and dumb and dripping he’s got you by the end, drunk off the flick of his tongue and the rasp of his touch.

Because it’s so hard to be strong in the face of pain when the solution is right there; open-palmed.

“...Fine, just don’t - don’t leave marks this time, okay?”

A slow waking smile creaks across his face, and he says, “I ain’t makin’ any promises, sweetheart.”

Your stomach swoops, and your thighs clench.

Shit.

Scarred lips work over tender flesh as a talented tongue flicks and swirls over the bumps of your areola, the tip digging into your nipple and drawing the swollen nub into a hot mouth. You whimper, arms tossed over the Ghoul’s broad shoulders.

Cold ceramic digs into the base of your spine, your body crowded back against the sink as he plasters himself to your front. Cuts off any escape routes and refuses to let you squirm away from the overwhelming sensations as he suckles.

Heavy palms grope at the plush curves of your hips, fingertips digging into the fat.

His lips pop off your nipple with a sticky pop. “Always taste s’fucking good,” he groans against your sternum. “Got the prettiest tits in the wasteland.”

“Hnn! N-Not so hard.”

While you say that, you don’t mean it - not really. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeat, clit swollen and aching for friction. Your inner thighs are a mess of slick, your vault suit caught around your knees.

He never touches you below the waist directly (some boundaries still exist between you two), but at this point in your pregnancy, you’re so sensitive a gentle breeze could set you off.

“Heh, ain’t you know lyin’s a sin?” he says.

A scarred cheek drags over the swell of your breast, the rasp of rad burn alighting your nerves. Bolts of desire ricochet down your spine, fizzle like Nuka Cola on your tongue. He presses an open mouth kiss to your nipple, his tongue flicking out to massage the tender bud.

At the taste of your skin, his cock twitches where its grinding against your thigh. You feel him through his ragged pinstripe slacks, his shaft a thick line of heat.

It’s probably the hormones (you refuse to admit its anything else) but just the thought of touching him, of sinking down onto his erection - feeling how fucking good he’d stretch you out and fill you up - makes you dizzy.

You pant, your voice distinctly whiny when you say, “Please, d-do something. It still hurts.”

His grin reminds you of the mongrels roaming the wastelands. “Sh,” he hushes you. “I got you, sweetheart.”

The tips of his fingers brush along the side of your swollen stomach. Your heart flips in your chest, your breath catching as he follows the contours of your body, reaching down to brush over the skin of your mound. This is new, he’s never done this before. It’s simultaneously as arousing as it is terrifying.

“Can smell how wet you are for me,” he says, tone low and gruff. “You gonna be a good girl for me, ain’t you?”

“I-”

Then his mouth is slurping at your tit, his teeth biting down on your nipple gently as those strong fingers dip between your thighs. Blunt nails scratch through your pubic hair, a calloused pad swirling circles around your slippery clit. Your hips jump, your head rolling back between your shoulders as a loud moan rips itself from your throat.

You arch back so far your belly presses against the Ghoul’s, your tits smothering his face.

You think, half deliriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose otherwise you might’ve broken it.

“Shit, that’s so - oh, fuck, please, please, please!’

Your legs widen to make room for his hand as yours fly up to grab his biceps, nails biting into the rough leather of his duster.

His tongue flutters across your areola. “C’mon, pretty mama, give it ta me.”

“Oh.” Sparks dance behind your eyes, your knees shaking as the Ghoul strokes over your folds, tests your wetness and the give of your cunt as he plays with your entrance. “Right there,” you gasp. “I’m gonna…”

He grunts, tugging on your nipple with his teeth.

The sharp bite of pain shoots through you, deepens the kindling warmth behind your navel that steadily builds and builds and builds. You feel on the very edge, nerves plucked like the keys of a piano.

So close you can taste it.

Then a tingling starts in the tips of your fingers.

Burns its way up your arms to settle in the weight of your chest, pins and needles pricking across the skin of your tits, lancing through the swollen buds of your nipples.

You tremble, the relief bringing tears to your eyes as tears the heaviness releases in a warm flood, your milk letting down to flow into the Ghoul’s eagerly pulling mouth.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he moans, chasing after the taste by nuzzling into your chest. His cock ruts against you. “Took you’re sweet damn time, didn’t you, darlin’?”

Your head spins, hazy thoughts scattering like confetti.

Endorphins simmer through your veins as you float on a cloud of cotton softness. Reality seems worlds away, your vision blurry as you focus on the points of contact between your bodies. The stretch of his fingers plunging into your pussy to stroke over the front wall.

Mouth slack, your hands creep up the Ghoul’s arms to trace over the sides of his neck, watch the dance of your fingers over his skin. “It feels s’good,” you slur. “Please don’t stop - wanna cum just like this.”

“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it.”

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fanfic

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papayadays · 10 hours

Text

under the sea

summary: oscar x marine biologist!reader - where you get to teach him about the great barrier reef

a/n: i love marine biology, so this was fun to write and oscar’s just so cute in the video; so sorry it’s overdue 😔 not proofread because this is so overdue 😭 1.1k+ words

warnings: none, just fluff

you sat on the helicopter, holding your boyfriend’s hand as you relished the sea air whipping around. “almost there!” the pilot announced as you leaned into oscar.

“are you ready, osc?” you asked with a smile. his brown eyes looked down at you, crinkling at the corners adorably.

“yeah, it’s going to be fun,” he nodded, not one to shout over the sound of the chopper.

the two of you were flying to an area of the great barrier reef where mclaren was going to film a video of oscar learning about it and snorkeling there to promote awareness about climate change and coral bleaching. that’s were you came in, you were a marine biologist and had done work with the great barrier reef foundation, so mclaren decided you’d be the perfect person for the job, considering the fans loved you as well as your colleagues. and honestly, you were so excited to teach your boyfriend about some of the things you loved dearly.

you landed on a helipad, getting out of the chopper as the camera crew got set up. “i’m excited to hear you talk about your passion,” oscar told you, smiling cutely at you. you were definitely not weak to his charms, and you instinctively leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“thanks,” you grinned, enjoying the sun on your skin. “nothing better than being near the sea.”

the camera crew gave you two a thumbs up, signaling they were ready, but your boyfriend had other plans. “well there’s something running away,” he mumbled, pointing at something in the sand. “look, it’s a little crab, see?” never beating the polite cat allegations, you thought, amused.

you laughed, having seen many crabs in your life. “yes, i see it osc,” you nodded. “it’s super cute.”

oscar continued to walk after the crab. “i’m following it,” he said, still pointing at it. you walked up next to him, giggling.

“anyways, oscar,” you started, “you’re going to introduce the video from what i’ve been told, and here’s some notes i have for you. it’s just some key points you might want to mention.” you handed a post-it note to him, your handwriting scrawled across it.

“alright,” oscar hummed. “that sounds good.” he nodded at the camera crew, starting to talk as he walked along the shoreline. you beamed at him, proud of your boyfriend as he talked about the issue facing many reefs across the world.

once he finished his bit, the cameras were now directed at you. “bleaching is obviously a massive problem right now,” you explained to the camera, the words flowing to you. “it’s been happening for years, and it’s spreading down the reef, which is quite alarming.

“it’s far more serious and widespread than we had predicted, so we need to take as much action as we can to help mitigate it,” you elaborated. “here at the great barrier reef foundation, our main mission we’re trying to tackle with mclaren is trying to get more coral back into the reefs, and we’re working towards this by raising large amounts of coral and helping those with more desirable traits reproduce.”

from behind the camera, you saw a glimpse of oscar’s encouraging smile. “though we’ve helped raise about two hundred thousand coral this year, it’s just not enough compared to the rapid decline in reefs,” you added. “we need a hundred times that, honestly. but there’s always work to be done.”

the crew let you know you were good before you relaxed. “one take,” you cheered to oscar. his eyes were wide with pride and shock; he knew that you were really smart when it came to marine biology, but he never knew that you were so good at communicating your knowledge as well.

“you were so good out there,” oscar mumbled, leaning in to peck your lips, making you smile. “you didn’t even need a script!”

“perks of being a marine biologist, no?” you chuckled, reaching out and trying to fix his wind-tousled hair, but with no avail. “we still both have one more part to record before we can head onto the water. chop chop!”

oscar rolled his eyes playfully as you nudged his shoulder. you stepped back, letting him record. when you heard him mention mclaren being a “high performance race team,” you almost let out a laugh, knowing he was thinking of that danny ric clip. other than that, the rest of the filming was smooth and it was your turn again.

this time, you talked about how the great barrier reef foundation wanted to accelerate their progress and how mclaren was a natural partnership. after you wrapped up, a giddy grin stretched across your face. “ready to snorkel?” you asked oscar, following the crew to a boat, eyes briefly flicking down to his blue shorts he had just changed into.

“yeah, i’m ready,” oscar nodded, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a room in the boat to change into your wet suits.

“isn’t this a little forward, piastri?” you snorted, giving him a kiss and quickly changing before helping your boyfriend. “here, you have to put it on like that.”

you went back out, where the crew had already started filming. you briefly explained why you needed wet suits to protect against jelly stings before you and oscar paddled out on a raft. “we need to go surfing,” you commented.

“random, but okay,” oscar chuckled. “still can’t believe how good you are at it.” you gave him a grin, your snorkel on your forehead as you taught him some sign language to communicate.

“this is turtle, this is shark, and this is all good,” you said, hands moving around as oscar nodded intently, looking adorable as he was concentrating. “alright, i think we’re ready.” without further notice, you dived into the water, oscar following.

luckily, the reefs in this area weren’t hit too hard and still had some life and vibrance, fish swimming around in shoals. you almost smiled at the sight, pointing things out to your boyfriend, who gave your hand a quick squeeze. you resurface when oscar did, lifting up your snorkel. “not bad?” you teased.

“awesome,” oscar commented. “it was just…breathtaking. i can see why you like this so much.” you gave him a grin as you two started paddling back to the boat, shaking off the water as you sat down.

absentmindedly, your hands worked through his wet hair, a smile on your face. “so, maybe we’ll come back?” you asked, giving him puppy eyes.

“oh definitely,” oscar agreed. “it’s so cool to see it in person, and i get why you want to protect it so much.” you beamed at him, leaning onto his shoulder.

“then my job here is done,” you said softly, looking up at him. “i love you, osc. maybe even more than marine biology.”

oscar smiled at you, brown eyes crinkling with happiness. “that’s a big statement right there, y/n,” he whispered.

“i mean it.”

“i love you too, especially under the sea,” oscar grinned.

#papayadays #papaya writes #f1 #formula 1 #mclaren #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #op81 #mclaren f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff

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emjayewrites · 22 hours

Text

Just Between Us - LH44

SYNOPSIS: Sometimes two is better than one....

PAIRINGS: Lewis Hamilton x black!fem!OC (Sydney "Syd") x Miles Chamley-Watson

WARNINGS: sexual content, cursing, flirting, threesome. MINORS DNI (18+ only)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @perfecttrashface

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The woman I linked to be a face claim for Sydney was something I've found on Pinterest. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

Miles couldn't stop thinking about Sydney. She was perfect - beautiful, funny, intelligent. Everything that Miles wished he could find in a girlfriend. But there was one big problem - Sydney was already dating his best friend Lewis.

Miles had been trying to ignore his growing feelings for Sydney, but it was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day. Lewis was a great guy and an amazing boyfriend who treated Sydney with the utmost love and respect. He cherished her and their relationship in a way that Miles couldn't help but admire.

Yet as much as Miles cared for Lewis, he couldn't deny the crackling chemistry he felt with Sydney, their comfortable banter, the way she just seemed to "get" him. Every time the three of them hung out, Miles found himself staring at Sydney, getting flustered anytime she so much as glanced his way. He would distractedly nod along as Lewis and Sydney playfully bantered, Miles only half-listening as he studied the curve of her lips as she laughed.

He knew it was wrong to have these feelings about his best friend's girl. The bro code should have prevented Miles from developing feelings for her, yet Miles couldn't deny this profound connection with Sydney that felt like they were soulmates, as stupid as that sounded. Miles spent nights lying awake, torturing himself by imagining what it would be like to actually be with Sydney. To hold her hand, to run his fingers through her hair, to caress her soft skin. Would she taste just like the jasmine and citrus perfume she adored? How would her gentle curves feel under his embrace?

Lewis had noticed the way Miles reacted whenever Sydney was around. At first, it angered him - how could his supposed best friend be eyeing up his girlfriend like a piece of meat? But the more Lewis observed their interactions, the more he realized he couldn't exactly blame Miles.

Sydney just had that effect on men. She was gorgeous, with curves in all the right places, sun-kissed brown skin, and a brilliant smile that could make anyone's knees go weak. But it was her fun, effervescent personality that really drew people in, coupled with her whip-smart sense of humor. Lewis knew he was a lucky bastard to have landed such an incredible woman.

They had been dating for over a year now, and the passion between them showed no signs of cooling off anytime soon. In the bedroom, Sydney could barely contain her insatiable appetite, revealing a ravenous side that wildly contrasted her sweet, girl-next-door exterior. Lewis grinned remembering last night's escapades - Sydney was an absolute freak between the sheets, and she was always keen on doing more, which Lewis loved to oblige.

As they readied for the next Grand Prix race in Australia, Lewis couldn't help but notice the subtle way Miles' eyes lit up at the prospect of spending more time around Sydney while he had to handle pre-race duties.

"Babe, you know I hate leaving you alone in the paddock," Lewis murmured huskily as he pulled Sydney flush against his toned body. "Especially looking as gorgeous as you do in that little sundress."

His hands roamed appreciatively down the curve of her spine to grope her firm ass. Sydney let out a soft giggle, arching herself into him.

"You know Miles will keep me entertained while you're handling your racing responsibilities," she purred, batting her long lashes up at him innocently. "He's such a sweetheart."

Lewis threw a sidelong glance over at his best friend, who was studiously avoiding eye contact but failing miserably to hide how his gaze kept dropping to Sydney's cleavage. Miles shifted awkwardly, adjusting the front of his shorts, and it made Lewis inwardly smirk, thoughts already formulating on something worthwhile between the three of them.

"That's what I'm worried about," Lewis chuckled. "You two troublemakers alone is bound to lead to no good."

"Me? A troublemaker?" Sydney gasped in mock offense, bringing a delicate hand up to her chest. "Why, I'm just an innocent young thing!"

The low-cut neckline of her gauzy white sundress gaped open temptingly with the gesture. Both Lewis and Miles couldn't tear their eyes away from the tantalizing glimpse of her luscious breasts, the tawny peaks of her nipples straining against the thin fabric.

Lewis continued to squeeze Sydney's ass firmly, pulling her even closer until she could feel his growing arousal pressing into her belly. He claimed her mouth in a torrid open-mouthed kiss, his tongue delving aggressively to taste her. When they finally broke apart, Sydney was flushed and breathless, her lips swollen from his intensity. Lewis slowly dragged his gaze over to Miles, taking in his friend's dazed expression, the tent in his khaki shorts.

"Keep an eye on her for me, bro," Lewis smirked. "This one's a total handful."

He slapped her ass one last time, then sauntered off, leaving Miles alone with the gorgeous temptress. Sydney blinked a few times, still flustered from Lewis' passionate kiss as she regarded his friend with a shy smile.

"So…" she began slowly. "What should we get into while Lewis is gone?"

Miles swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from Sydney's tantalizing form. She was a goddess in that little sundress, and his eyes were drawn inexplicably to the swell of her breasts straining against the flimsy fabric.

"Uh…w-whatever you want," he stammered out, mentally kicking himself for sounding so lame.

Sydney's smile widened as she took a step closer, giving Miles an enticing view straight down her dress. He felt his mouth go dry as her cleavage was put enticingly on display.

"You know what sounds amazing right now?" She looped her arm through his, pulling him along. "Corn dogs! I'm starving."

Miles blinked in surprise but allowed himself to be led towards the nearby corn dog stand. As they waited in line, Sydney chatted animatedly about her plans to finally open her own event planning business after years of slugging it out in corporate gigs she hated.

"Lewis has been so supportive," she gushed. "He's really pushing me to take the leap and pursue my passion."

"That's awesome, Syd," Miles replied with a warm smile, genuinely happy for her. "You're gonna kill it."

She beamed at his encouragement before turning a bit more somber. "The hard part is, I can't really eat stuff like this around Lewis." She gestured to the corn dog stand wistfully. "He's so strict about being vegan. Which I totally respect! But I do miss the fun fast food sometimes."

"Well, what Lewis doesn't know won't hurt him," Miles said with a wink, signaling for two corn dogs piled high with chili and cheese. "Your dirty little secret is safe with me."

Sydney laughed delightedly, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze as she accepted her treat. They found a nearby picnic table to settle at, Sydney closing her eyes rapturously as she took a big bite of the crispy battered frank.

"Oh my god, that's so good," she moaned around her mouthful. She opened her eyes to catch Miles staring at her fixedly. "What?"

He cleared his throat, refocusing his gaze. "Nothing, just…you looked really happy there for a sec."

"I am," she smiled warmly at him. "Thanks for keeping me company, Miles. It's always fun hanging with my favorite fencer."

Miles felt a flush of pleasure at her words. "Speaking of, you know I'll be competing in the Summer Olympics in Paris this year, right? Gotta start mentally preparing myself to kick some French butt."

Sydney laughed that bright, melodious laugh that never failed to make his heart stutter. "I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines, as always."

"So have you settled on a name for your company yet?" Miles asked between bites of his chili-smothered corn dog.

"I'm thinking 'Exquisite Events by Sydney'," she replied, wrinkling her nose adorably. "Though Lewis says that's way too on-the-nose."

Miles barked out a laugh. "Well, I think it's perfect. When people see you've planned their wedding or party or whatever, they'll definitely remember a name like that."

Sydney's eyes sparkled with delight at his vote of confidence. "You always did have my back, Miles."

She reached across the picnic table to playfully nudge his arm. Miles's breath caught in his throat at her innocent touch, his eyes involuntarily dropping to her parted lips, still glistening with a stray smear of chili sauce.

Get it together, man, he scolded himself, dragging his gaze back up. This is your best friend's girl you're undressing with your eyes.

As if reading his mind, Sydney spoke up hesitantly. "You know Lewis and I both care about you so much, right Miles? You're like a brother to us."

Miles felt his face flush hotly at her words, a tight knot forming in his stomach. Of course she just saw him in a brotherly light - how could he let himself think anything else? He was Sydney's boyfriend's best friend, and that's all he'd ever be to her.

Clearing his throat roughly, he forced himself to respond lightly. "Haha yeah, you two really are stuck with me as the annoying third wheel, huh?"

Sydney laughed that bright, tinkling laugh that Miles loved, giving his arm a fond squeeze. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Miles managed a genuine smile back at her, ignoring the slight pang in his chest. Having Sydney in his life as a friend was better than not having her at all. He'd learned to accept that was all they'd ever be.

For now, he thought to himself as he gazed warmly at Lewis's girl. There was still a part of him that hoped, one day.

The mood was subdued as Lewis, Sydney, Miles, and Spinz arrived back at their hotel after the Australian Grand Prix. Lewis had DNF'd due to mechanical issues, furious at another race gone to waste through no fault of his own. He stayed mostly quiet through dinner, his jaw tensed in restrained anger.

Now back in their suite, they settled in to half-watch a movie together on Netflix, though the tension was still palpable. Spinz checked his watch and stood up with a stretch.

"All right, I should get going - early flight back to Toronto tomorrow to check on my mom," he announced.

After they said their goodbyes, Spinz headed out, leaving Sydney, Lewis, and Miles alone. Miles was sprawled out on the L-shaped couch, while Lewis and Sydney cuddled together on the opposite end. As the movie droned on, Miles could see Lewis's hands start to roam over Sydney's body out of the corner of his eye.

He trailed his fingers lightly up Sydney's bare thigh, drawing teasing circles over her soft skin. She shot Lewis a warning look and hissed under her breath, "Lewis! Miles is right there."

"So?" Lewis murmured back lowly. "It's not like he hasn't seen us be affectionate before."

Miles pretended not to hear their hushed exchange, keeping his eyes trained forward on the TV screen even as heat crept up his neck.

"Miles couldn't care less," Lewis said louder, making Miles's head snap over. "Hell, he probably gets off on it, the little perv has such a crush on you, babe."

"Lewis!" Sydney looked mortified, smacking his chest as she shot Miles an apologetic look. "That's not true, is it Miles?"

All eyes were suddenly on him. Miles felt like a deer caught in the headlights as he struggled to find his voice.

"Uh…I…um…" he stammered uselessly.

Sydney's eyes went wide as Miles failed to actually deny Lewis's claim. "Oh my god, you do have a thing for me, don't you?"

"What? No! I mean…" Miles could feel his entire face going red as he trailed off lamely.

Lewis let out a bark of laughter, not bothering to hide his amusement at his friend's predicament. He pulled Sydney more tightly against him, purposely letting his hand drift up to brazenly cup her breast.

"Don't worry about it, man," Lewis said with a cocky grin. "I'd probably have a crush on my girl too if I was you."

Lewis kissed Sydney's neck, his lips brushing against her skin with an intensity that made her shiver. Nearby, Miles watched on, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and curiosity. Sydney's hands tried to tear Lewis off of her, her voice trembling as she asked, "What are you doing?"

Lewis stopped kissing her neck, glancing at her, then over at his friend. "Do you like Miles, baby?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Sydney was at a loss for words, her mind racing to make sense of what was happening. "Of course, I do. He's our—"

But Lewis interrupted her, his gaze unwavering. "Beyond that. Don't you think Miles is handsome?"

Sydney looked at Miles, giving him a small, hesitant smile. "Of course he is. Any woman can tell that he's handsome. Lewis, what is the point of this?"

Lewis licked his lips, his eyes darkening with desire. "Remember when you said that you wanted a threesome?" Sydney nodded her head slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. "How about we have some fun with Miles?" Lewis suggested, his tone dripping with anticipation.

Miles's eyes widened further, his gaze locking with Sydney's. There was a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes — excitement, maybe, or a deep, simmering desire that mirrored Lewis's.

Sydney's voice trembled as she declared, "That's your best friend, Lewis. He's practically your brother."

Lewis's smile was slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. "Which makes it good, yes? We trust Miles, we love Miles. You think Miles is attractive. Makes sense to me."

Miles inched a bit closer, his gaze intense as it flickered between Lewis and Sydney. "Are you serious, man?" he asked, his voice low and incredulous.

Lewis nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of mischief and earnestness. "Absolutely. We trust you, Miles. I want this, Sydney wants this. Syd, what do you say?"

Sydney's heart raced as she looked between the two men, feeling the weight of the moment. Miles's eyes held hers, a silent question lingering there, as if he was asking for her permission, her final approval.

Slowly, Sydney nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."

Lewis's grin widened, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek. "Good girl," he murmured, before turning his gaze to Miles. "Are you going to sit there being weird or are you going to move closer?"

Miles was still stuck motionless, his hesitation palpable. Lewis clicked his teeth in annoyance before his lips descended on Sydney's once more, the kiss searing and demanding. Miles watched for a moment longer, his internal struggle evident, before finally stepping forward. His hand gently rested on Sydney's shoulder as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, and he planted a chaste kiss on her temple.

Sydney's heart raced, her senses overwhelmed by the dual sensations. She could feel the heat radiating from Lewis's body, the intensity of his kiss, while the gentleness of Miles's touch provided a stark contrast. The blend of both their touches sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling within her.

Sydney turned her head, capturing Miles's lips in a tentative kiss. It was soft and exploratory, the taste of him different but equally intoxicating. She could feel Lewis's eyes on them, his hands roaming her body with a possessive hunger.

The moment felt surreal, like a dream she hadn't dared to fully imagine. The forbidden thrill of it all made her pulse quicken, a heady mix of adrenaline and desire. She pulled back slightly, looking at both men with a newfound boldness in her eyes.

"This is… unexpected," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with anticipation.

Lewis's gaze was dark and intense. "Sometimes the best things are," he murmured, his fingers tracing a path down her arm. "How do you feel, baby?"

Sydney took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "It feels… amazing. Strange, but amazing," she confessed, her eyes flicking between them.

Miles finally spoke, his voice low and filled with a mix of emotions. "Are you sure about this, Syd?" His hand squeezed her shoulder gently, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt.

Sydney nodded, a determined smile curving her lips. "I'm sure. I want this. I want both of you."

Lewis grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's all I needed to hear."

With that, he leaned in to kiss her again, his lips claiming hers with a fierce hunger. Sydney's hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. She felt Miles's hand slide down her back, his touch sending electric sparks through her skin. When she broke the kiss with Lewis to turn to Miles, she kissed him with equal fervor, her tongue dancing with his as she explored the new sensation of his lips.

The room seemed to close in around them, the rest of the world fading away as they lost themselves in each other. Sydney could feel the heat building between them, an undeniable connection that pulsed with every touch, every kiss. She was caught between the two men, reveling in the attention and the way they made her feel alive and desired.

Lewis's touch was rougher and more insistent, while Miles's caresses were gentle and exploring. The contrast heightened her senses, making every touch, every kiss more intense. They moved in sync, undressing her slowly, reverently, as if unveiling a precious gift.

Sydney's moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure as Lewis kissed a trail down her neck, and Miles's lips followed the curve of her shoulder. They took their time, savoring every moment, every sensation.

Miles cupped her breasts, his hands gentle but firm as he stared at them with adoration. His thumb brushed over her nipple before he leaned in to take it into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the hardened nub. Sydney gasped, arching into his touch.

Meanwhile, Lewis's hands trailed lower, skimming over her hips and down to the apex of her thighs. His fingers stroked the juncture of her panty-covered pussy, teasing her through the thin fabric. "You're so wet, baby," he murmured against her ear, his voice thick with desire. "I can feel how much you want this."

Sydney's breath hitched, a moan escaping her lips as she felt him move her panties aside. His fingers found her wet folds, sliding through her slick heat with expert precision. "Lewis," she whispered, her voice a mixture of pleading and pleasure.

Miles glanced up from her breast, his eyes dark with lust. "I think we should take this to the bedroom," he suggested, his voice husky.

Lewis nodded, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Agreed. Let's make you even more comfortable, love."

Together, they helped Sydney up, leading her to the bedroom. The light from the streetlights of Melbourne played against her skin, casting a soft glow that made her look ethereal. Miles couldn't take his eyes off her, his gaze filled with awe and desire.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Lewis asked, his voice filled with admiration.

Miles nodded, his eyes never leaving Sydney. "The most gorgeous woman I've ever seen."

They made out again, their kisses heated and desperate. Sydney felt her knees go weak as she was caught between their bodies, their hands roaming over her skin, igniting every nerve ending.

With trembling hands, she undressed them, her fingers fumbling slightly in her haste. When she finally freed them from their clothes, she looked down to see Miles' erect penis for the first time, her eyes widening slightly at the sight. She felt a thrill of excitement at what was to come.

Sydney knelt before them, her hands wrapping around their lengths as she looked up at them with a sultry smile. She began with Miles, her tongue darting out to taste him before taking him fully into her mouth. His groan of pleasure spurred her on, and she bobbed her head, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Lewis watched with dark, hungry eyes, his hand tangling in her hair as she switched to him. She gave him the same attention, her mouth working him skillfully as his hips bucked slightly. They both groaned, their sounds of pleasure mingling in the air, driving her wild.

Sydney's thoughts were a blur of sensation and desire, her body humming with need. She was lost in the moment, in the way their bodies responded to her, and the thrill of being the center of their attention. It was everything she had fantasized about and more.

Lewis pulled her up, kissing her fiercely as Miles pressed against her back, his hands roaming her body. "I want to taste you, too," Lewis murmured against her lips, his eyes dark with promise. He led her to the bed, laying her down gently as he kissed a path down her body, pausing at her breasts to suck and lick each nipple before continuing lower.

Miles joined him, his hands and mouth everywhere, exploring and worshipping her body. Sydney's moans filled the room as they worked in tandem, driving her to the brink of ecstasy. She had never felt so desired, so completely consumed by pleasure.

The room filled with the heady scent of arousal as Miles and Lewis took turns devouring Sydney’s pussy. Their tongues explored her folds, each lick and suck sending shivers through her body. Miles's mouth was relentless, his tongue flicking over her clit with practiced precision, while Lewis's strong hands held her thighs apart, his tongue delving deep into her. The combination of their efforts drove her to the edge, her moans growing louder with each passing second.

Sydney’s body trembled, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. With a final, shuddering cry, she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. The men didn't stop, their tongues continuing their assault, prolonging her pleasure until she was a quivering mess.

Lewis pulled back first, a satisfied grin on his face. He reached over to the bedside table, retrieving a box of condoms. He handed one to Miles, who took it with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

Lewis's voice was low and teasing as he asked, "Want to try Sydney out first?"

Miles's answer was immediate, his voice thick with desire. "Fuck yeah."

Both men helped Sydney move, guiding her to straddle Miles. She positioned herself above him, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. Lewis watched with dark, lustful eyes, his hands moving to his own cock, rolling on a condom and stroking himself as he watched.

Miles kissed every inch of exposed skin he could reach, his hands caressing her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice filled with awe and desire. "I can't believe this is happening."

Sydney felt the head of Miles's cock press against her, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she lowered herself onto him. They both moaned at the sensation, their bodies finally joining after so much teasing and anticipation.

Miles's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as she began to ride him. His eyes were locked onto her, filled with a mixture of lust and disbelief. Each touch, each kiss, each thrust was a reminder that this was real, that he was inside her, and it drove him wild.

Lewis moved closer, his own need evident in his intense gaze. "You look so good together," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I can't wait to join in."

Sydney glanced back at Lewis, her eyes dark with lust as she rode Miles. The pleasure was overwhelming, but the promise of what was to come made her even more eager. "Why are you sitting over there then?"

Lewis let out a chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "I like watching you, baby. You look so good riding Miles' dick."

Miles groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he thrust up into her. "Feels amazing," he panted, his eyes locked onto Sydney's. "So tight and wet."

"She's got the best pussy," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration, as he moved behind her. He placed a series of kisses along her neck, his other hand trailing down her spine to her ass. "But I think it's time we give her a bit more."

Sydney moaned, the anticipation making her even wetter. She leaned forward, bracing herself on Miles's chest, as Lewis's fingers began to tease her other entrance. He spread her cheeks, his thumb gently circling her tight ring of muscles.

"Relax, baby," Lewis whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Just let me in."

She nodded, her body trembling with desire. Lewis applied more lube, his fingers working her open slowly, preparing her for what was to come. Sydney gasped as he inserted a finger, the sensation strange but not unpleasant. He moved it in and out, adding another finger to stretch her further.

Miles watched with rapt attention, his cock buried deep inside her. "You okay, Syd?" he asked, his voice thick with concern and desire.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice shaking with anticipation. "I want this."

Lewis smirked, his fingers working her open. "Such a good girl," he praised. He positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her newly prepared entrance. "Just take it slow."

Sydney bit her lip, leaning forward further to accommodate him. She felt the pressure as Lewis began to push in, her body stretching to take him. The sensation was intense, a mixture of pleasure and slight discomfort, but she trusted Lewis and Miles completely.

"You're doing so well," Lewis murmured, kissing her neck as he continued to slide in. "Just relax and breathe."

Sydney took a deep breath, her body adjusting to the dual sensations. Miles thrust up into her, his movements slow and measured, while Lewis continued to press into her from behind. The combination was mind-blowing, and she felt herself being filled completely.

Finally, Lewis was fully seated inside her, his hands gripping her hips. "You feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight."

Sydney moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. She began to move, riding Miles while pushing back against Lewis. The rhythm they found was perfect, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through her body.

"Fuck, Syd," Miles groaned, his hands roaming her body. "You're incredible."

Lewis echoed his sentiment, his breath hot against her ear. "So perfect, baby," he whispered. "You're taking us so well."

Sydney's mind was a haze of pleasure, her body moving on autopilot as she gave herself over to the sensations. The two men inside her, the way they filled her, the way they praised her – it was all too much, and she felt herself hurtling towards another orgasm.

With a final, shuddering cry, she came, her body convulsing with the force of her release. Miles and Lewis held her tightly, their own groans of pleasure mingling with her cries as they continued to move, riding out her orgasm together.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Sydney collapsed onto Miles's chest, her body spent and satisfied. Lewis pulled out gently, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder.

"That was incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're amazing, Sydney."

Miles nodded in agreement, his hands gently stroking her back. "Absolutely amazing," he echoed, his voice filled with awe.

Lewis and Miles gently eased Sydney off of Miles, laying her down on the bed with utmost care. Sydney's breath was still ragged, her body tingling from the intense experience. Lewis leaned in, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his touch tender and comforting.

"How are you feeling, love?" Lewis asked softly, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

Sydney managed a tired smile, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and satisfaction. "Great," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Thank you."

Miles, still lying beside her, reached out to hold her hand. "You were incredible, Syd," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "Just relax, we've got you, baby girl."

Lewis stood up and grabbed a towel from the bathroom, dampening it with warm water. He returned to the bed and gently cleaned Sydney's body, wiping away the remnants of their passionate encounter. His touch was soothing, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Just rest," Lewis murmured, his voice a gentle balm. "We'll take care of you."

Sydney closed her eyes, letting herself be pampered by the two men. Miles continued to hold her hand, his thumb stroking the back of it in a comforting rhythm. The room was filled with a serene silence, the chaos of earlier moments forgotten.

After Lewis finished cleaning her, he joined them on the bed, lying down on her other side. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to his chest. Miles shifted closer as well, creating a cocoon of warmth and security around her.

Sydney sighed contentedly, feeling safe and cherished between them. "You guys are amazing," she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude.

Lewis pressed a kiss to her temple. "You're the amazing one, Syd," he replied softly. "Just rest now. We'll be here."

Miles nodded in agreement, his hand continuing its gentle caress. "We've got you," he echoed, his voice a soothing whisper.

As the night wore on, the three of them remained entwined, their breaths syncing in a peaceful rhythm. Sydney felt a profound connection and trust with Lewis and Miles, and their shared experience deepened their bond. Eventually, exhaustion claimed them all, and they drifted off to sleep.

#lewis hamilton #emjayewrites #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black oc #lewis hamilton x black!reader #just between us #miles chamley watson x black reader #miles chamley watson

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koolades-world · 3 days

Note

I’m so proud of you for getting 2K followers!

Can you please do Simeon x reader (the two are already dating) with Simeon saying both prompts 5. "I’m here. You're safe with me" and 9. “are you bleeding?”

Please and thank you! :D

thank you so much!! i gladly will :))

i don't think i've ever written a dedicated piece for simeon so i'll put my whole heart into this to make sure it does him justice!

enjoy <3

prompts 5 and 9 w/ Simeon

It was getting late. The songbirds were asleep, and fireflies could be seen out in the open field near Purgatory Hall. The stars lit up the sky and if you listened close enough, you could hear demons laughing with one another. On any other day, the sight might be enjoyable and would be a great opportunity to gather loved ones to savor the moment.

But, it was too late for Simeon's liking. He was expecting you home hours ago. You had even called him, letting him know you were on your way home, and that you were running one last errand, despite the fact that you were out with friends. He didn't want to rush or question you though. You were an adult and your own person. You didn't need him looking over your shoulder. How he wish he did though.

He didn't want to call the brothers, because they would tear apart the Devildom searching for you, nor did he want to wake up his housemates out of fear they'd view him as irresponsible. He checked his D.D.D. for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, and after looking at the time, he decided he was going out to find you himself. If you were still running your errand, he could just apologize. He just wanted to make sure you were ok.

Just as he had gathered all his things and was about to put his jacket on, he heard the keys being inserted into the lock of the front door, and he heard it crack open. With the biggest sigh of relief he'd ever let out, he hung the jacket back up and rushed to greet you. You looked tired, and had your jacket oddly draped around you. But, he didn't question that. Instead, he was more focused on the bouquet of flowers in your hand.

"Sorry I took a while to get home. These are for you, sweetie. They took a tumble, so I'm sorry they look a little rough. " You held them out to him, and he felt as if his heart was about to explode from joy. Nobody had ever given him flowers before. He took them from you, and spun them around in his hands. He studied them closely, and found a little note stuck on a picket in the center. You watched anxiously as he removed it and read it.

"Mc. You're too kind. I'll have to make it up to you in some way." The note read 'because you deserve it <3' and Simeon was over the moon at the sentiment. There was no occasion. Mc just wanted to do something nice for him in a way he hadn't expected.

"I thought you might like them. No need to make it up to me. You're my boyfriend. That in itself is more than enough for me. You're my gift, silly." At your words, he threw his arms around you, unable to contain his feelings. He was usually so composed, but he just couldn't hold it in. He found it kind of ironic he found true happiness in the Devildom, but he could live with that fact as long as it meant he got to remain by your side.

In this hug though, something felt off. You leant into him heavily, which he might normally put off as you being loving and happy to see him again, but that combined with everything he'd observed when you'd entered, he felt as if he should at least ask. "Are you alright, my love?" He stepped back a little to scan you for any signs of harm. The way you wrapped the jacket tighter around yourself told him everything he needed to know.

"I'm alright. Just tired from my night out is all." You tried to comfort him with a warm smile, but he was quick to shut that down.

"Be honest with me. This isn't me trying to be mean, and you know that." He glared at you in a way you'd never seen before. With a sigh, you realized the act was up. You shrugged the jacket off, and at first, Simeon saw nothing wrong. But, as he looked closer, the fabric of your shirt looked as if it was damp.

"Are you bleeding? Why didn't you tell me as soon as you got home?" The flowers were quickly set on a nearby table as he rushed to your side to inspect you closer. You lifted your shirt just enough to show off the three evenly spaced slashes on your abdomen.

"I didn't want you to feel bad about the gift." You confessed. He was quick to put two and two together.

"Did you get this while getting my flowers?" Your silence was telling.

"I know what you're going to say, so you don't need to," you sadly told him. He put his arm around your shoulders and led you to the living room. He sat you down on the sofa and told you to hold still while he healed you.

"You should see the other guys." You weakly smiled at him, in hopes of trying to lighten the situation.

"There was more than one? We'll be talking about who did this later since I want to focus on your right now, but you can't casually mention things like that." Simeon sighed. He went silent after that to focus on healing you, and like magic, all that was left of the wounds was scars. Now, the two of you were just staring at each other silently.

"Why didn't you call me?" He remained in front of you to look you in the eyes.

"I had it. I didn't need any help." At first, you planned to stop there, but you couldn't hide anything from him. "They told me they'd hurt you if I tried to ask you for help, and I panicked. I was really worried about you, and they told me no matter what I did, I wouldn't be able to escape." You leant into him again, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Sweetie, it's alright. You did great." He wiped the tears as they fell. Despite the sparse amount of tears, you looked upset and worn down. "I'm here. You're safe with me." His words seemed to resonate with you, and you tightly clutched him as if he might vanish.

"Thank you. I love you." You rested your head on his shoulder.

"I love you too. Remember, your safety always comes first. Any world where you are is a world I want to be in." He gave you a kiss on the top of your head. "By the way, thank you for the gift, I really appreciate it," he told you, gently smiling.

"I thought you'd like it. They made me think of you when I saw them." He couldn't deny the fact that you were always on his mind, and it warmed his heart to know that you felt the exact same.

"Now, let's get you to bed. You need rest. I'll watch over you." With that, the two of you headed off so you could get your well needed rest. Simeone was glad you were safe.

#2k followers special #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me simeon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me! shall we date #wah i think i could've done better #oh well it's not awful haha

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fuctacles · 3 days

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@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 1/3 for easier reading on tumblr, but will be posted as a one-shot on Ao3 later | thanks @stevesjockstrap for beta-reading and mental support 💚

The shop was never busy. Aside from Valentine’s Day and Christmas, it was a lot of goofing around and packing online orders. And since it was pouring on a Tuesday afternoon, they expected no customers until closing, which was more than okay with them. They didn't choose it because it was popular. They chose it because their younger friends were too embarrassed to bother them here.

“It’s getting pretty bad,” Steve points out, squinting through the window. “I don’t wanna drive in this weather.”

Robin looks up just in time to catch a flash of lightning splitting the dark clouds outside.

“Maybe it will let up before we close.”

Thunder crackles above them, and Steve raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“We can wait it out in the pizzeria across the street,” she offers then.

“I like the way you think.”

There’s a loud bang as their doors slam open, letting inside some of the summer storm carnage. Despite the size of the shop, they can feel the cold rain on their faces, and for a second, the sound of the storm is deafening. It cuts off as suddenly as it started but is replaced by loud, displeased sounds of two figures drenched to the bone.

“Holy fucking shit!” a wet rat dripping on their floor curses loudly. He shakes his hands creating a small waterfall down the lapels of his leather jacket. The figure next to him drops down the hood of their jacket with a wet smack.

“Holy shitting fuck,” she agrees.

“They better be selling towels here.”

“Uh...” The unhooded figure, a short blonde, looks around curiously. “I’m afraid not.”

This prompts the guy to peel the wet hair away from his face and look properly around.

“Did we just walk into a fucking sex shop?”

“You did, yeah.”

The two turn to the desk when Steve speaks up.

Next to him, Robin flinches, and he senses something weird from her, like a brain equivalent of an exclamation mark. But he doesn’t think much of it, assuming it might simply be a reaction to the pretty girl in front of them.

“We have a radiator in the back, I could take your clothes to dry,” he offers the newcomers.

“No, we—”

“Are you seriously going back out in this weather?” The girl looks at her friend with raised eyebrows. He scoffs.

“No,” he admits petulantly.

“I can make you guys some hot tea. It’s not like anything is happening here anyway,” Robin pipes up.

“That would be great, thanks.” The blonde lights up gratefully, and Robin squirms.

Stave takes it upon himself to gather their wet things, afraid his friend might combust if she comes any closer to the girl. When he’s hanging the clothes, she is uncharacteristically quiet, so he turns to her and cocks his head.

“What’s up?”

She frowns at the mugs she's pulling out.

“Her.”

"Huh? She’s cute, isn’t she?" He grins.

“I think I could hear her,” Robin clarifies.

Steve straightens up immediately and walks towards his friend. She’s looking back up, worrying her bottom lip under her teeth.

“Do you think they are dating?” He motions to the front of the shop where they can hear the other two talk. She looks at the clothes scattered around the backroom. A denim vest, two black jackets, and a hoodie. Judging by the size and style, they all seemed to belong to one person.

“They could be like us,” he points out, but she doesn’t seem convinced. He isn’t either.

“Or she could not know.”

That would complicate things, wouldn’t it?

After exchanging a few heated looks they trail back to the front and Steve hands the teas to their intruders.

"Thank you." The girl smiles sweetly, though her gaze slides towards Robin.

Steve gives his friend a pointed look but she's too dazed to even flip him off.

"Thanks." The guy blows on his tea, keeping his gaze mostly on the window and the storm outside. "We'll take a look around and won't bother you guys," he says, giving his companion a pointed look before disappearing into one of the sections.

Steve knows it’s bad to stereotype but the assortment of strap-ons is not what guys like this usually go for, and his brain gets whiplash with the sudden onslaught of images he's not proud of. The tall guy wearing black and chains getting pegged by his tiny blonde girlfriend? It kind of suits him. He tries not to think about it.

They give them space to roam around the shop and whisper to each other while they finish their duties for the day and start closing up.

"Guys? We need to close in fifteen minutes!" Steve would feel bad for kicking them out into the storm, but the rain clouds have moved, turning the onslaught into a light drizzle.

It's only after they leave that Steve looks at the tattoo on the palm of his hand. Surprised at what he sees, he shakes it experimentally. The d20 lands back on the same number.

“Hey, look.” He holds it up for Robin to see. “I’ve never rolled a twenty before.”

Three days pass and Steve can't stand it anymore.

He slaps his hand on the counter, making Robin yelp.

“You’re thinking about her again!"

“I’m sorry!”

Steve shakes his head.

“No. Don't care, no sorries," he says with finality. “We’re finding her.”

"We go to the same school!" she protests. "I think. I mean, I'll run into her eventually!"

But Steve won't take that chance, tired of all the sighing from her brain, and decides to find the girl they've met. He figures the easiest place to find high schoolers is at the mall so that's where he goes.

With all the groups of friends and couples passing by, he feels even more like a loser than usual, being there all alone. But he's on a mission, so he won't let that deter him.

That is, until one of the faces he sees in the crowd gives him a pause. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize what's familiar about one of the three girls coming at him, but when the memory hits, he panics. Letting his flight response take over, he ducks into the nearest open door to avoid his ex.

After making sure the group has passed him without notice, he lets himself breathe. He's taking in the shop he stepped into, a record store full of tapes, vinyls, and band merch, when a voice startles his adrenaline levels back up.

"Well, well, well. How the tables have turned. Running from a gaggle of women, are we?"

Steve turns to find the metalhead who ran into his shop a few days ago, smirking at him.

"Just one." He shakes his head, instinctively looking back behind the glass door. "Really don't feel like running into my ex right now."

"Must be happening a lot, huh?" The man leans on the counter that separates them. "My friend told me you're quite the casanova."

Steve spots his opportunity and grabs it.

"The girl from the other day?" he asks.

"Yes?" The guy's eyes narrow.

“So you guys are friends?” he adds to clarify before he uncrosses his figurative fingers.

“Yes? Why else would we hang out?”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up under the man's suspicious stare.

“Well, you could be dating.”

The guy snorts.

“Yeah, I don't see the local freak bagging the head cheerleader. The fact that she can even stand me is enough.” Then his eyes narrow again. “Why? You interested in Chris?”

Chris.

“No? Well, kinda, but not… exactly.”

Steve has never felt less smooth in his whole life. And judging by the guy's expression, it shows. Whatever he was trying to sell, he wasn’t buying. His brain scrambles to salvage the situation and comes up with a painfully honest solution.

"Look, I just graduated and my friend group has fallen apart." He yells at his brain-to-mouth wires but keeps going anyway. "And you guys seem chill, I thought the four of us could hang out, or something?"

If the 'you suck' board still existed, he'd fill it out with tallies himself.

The man doesn't seem convinced and he opens his mouth to tear him to shreds probably, but then somebody yells from the back of the store:

"Eddie! A little help, please!"

And the guy, Eddie, gets reminded he's at work.

"Coming!" he yells back, and on his way there, throws Steve a quick string of, "Great seeing you again, we'll think about it, we know where to find you, bye!" before disappearing behind the back door.

After such a disastrous interaction, the last thing Steve wants to do is go back out into the mall full of people. But staying here to risk Eddie looking at him like that again was the more humiliating option. He turns around, planning to lick his wounds at home before reporting his findings back to Robin. For the hundredth time since finding her, he wishes they couldn't read each other minds. Because all he can think of is making a complete loser idiot of himself in front of a cool metalhead dude, and he knows she won't let him live it down. Maybe the Scoops board will make a comeback after this.

“Chrissyyyyyy!”

“Eddieeeeee!”

The rest of the cheer squad does perfectly synchronized eye rolls when their captain jumps down the human pyramid to greet her friend.

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “You’re early. We’re not done yet.”

“I got some news.” He taps his fingers on the small partition between them, ignoring the cheer practice in progress. “Bad ones and good ones.”

“Bad first,” she says with a decisive nod.

Eddie opens his mouth but then frowns and closes it.

“It won’t make sense if you don’t hear the good news first.”

“Oh my god! Just spill it!”

“So, they’re almost surely not dating.”

“The sex shop guys?”

He nods.

“Okay, and the bad one?”

“Steve seems to be into you.”

“No!” she gasps, scandalized. Eddie snickers.

“Yeah. Sorry sweetie." His smile turns more apologetic.

Chrissy makes a face. Then she keeps making faces until Eddie can’t help but snort and slap her playfully.

“Stop! What are you thinking about?”

“I mean he’s kinda cute, but gives me repressed gay vibes.”

Eddie chokes but she keeps going.

“And his friend? His friend is just hot.”

“Ehh, I guess.” Eddie shakes his palm, making his friend roll her eyes.

“You’ll never understand the beauty of a woman in suspenders.”

“More women in suspenders for you then.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Chris! You going back or what?” one of the cheerleaders behind them yells out, barely containing her annoyance.

“I’m coming!” Chrissy yells back. She turns to her best friend, her soulmate, with a dazzling smile. “You joining in?”

“You know they hate it when I do,” he points out.

“And you love it that they hate it.” She smirks like the evil little gremlin she secretly is.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Eddie grins, climbing over the partition to join the cheerleading squad. A couple of girls groan, knowing what’s coming next but none of them dare to protest. If their captain’s soulmate wants to perform a perfect cheer routine, putting their months of practice to shame, there’s nothing they can do except blame the fates.

Eddie drops his leather jacket on the bleachers and does a couple of stretches in perfect sync with his friend. They grin at each other while mirroring each other’s movements without a word.

“If only you could read my mind during math exams like that,” Chrissy teases.

“Okay, shut up.” He rolls his eyes with fake annoyance. Yeah, it would be convenient, but he got a cheerleading routine memorized in his muscles instead. He’d be complaining if Chrissy wasn’t so fun to be around.

Despite his involuntary knowledge of the routine, none of the other girls fully trust him, so he usually ends up working mostly with Chris, tossing her in the air and catching her when needed.

“You should join us for the game,” she asks as always, after jumping down from his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” he answers as always, patting her head. She huffs, swatting his hand away and fixing up her ponytail, now loose from practice.

“Wanna go grab pizza?” she asks casually and he immediately goes into suspish mode. Chrissy rarely proposes eating out together. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great that his girlie is starting to eat better again, but… He doesn’t let his suspicion show when he asks:

“Sure. Any place in mind?”

She hums, but it’s a short hum. Very 'i-already-had-a-place-in-mind' like.

“The one with the Ninja Turtles poster?”

“You mean the one across the adult toys store?” He raises his eyebrows.

She blushes a fierce red and he knows it’s not because of the sex shop thing. He grins, wide and teasing.

“You wanna see that girl again.”

“Maybe,” she huffs defensively. “Okay, yes, so what?”

“So nothing.” He shrugs innocently. “Grab your things and we’ll go.”

“Yes!” she pumps her hands in victory, a dorky move Eddie’s proud to have taught her, and runs off to grab her backpack. She snatches his jacket before he can, overly eager to get moving. “Let’s go!”

He can’t help but laugh while trotting after her towards his van.

The inside of the store is brighter than they remembered, what with the sky being clear this time. It looks surprisingly normal until you take a better look at the contents of the boxes on display. A sex shop during daylight just lacks a certain ambiance.

The preppy-looking guy behind the counter doesn't match the vibe either.

At the sound of customers, the guy looks up.

"Hello! Oh, it's you guys." He visibly relaxes, realizing it's not his usual run-of-the-mill customers.

"It's us indeed." Eddie smiles, confidently strutting up to the counter. "Has anyone ever told you you look out of place here?"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you not to judge someone's sex life by their looks?"

Eddie raises his hands placatingly.

"Fair enough, man. I'll back off." However, the comment made him insanely curious about what a guy like that would be into. Behind him, Chrissy gently kicks him in the ankle, prompting him to take a look around. "Alone today?" he asks with a curious tilt of his head.

"Yeah, Robin is tutoring after school today. Why?" His eyes narrow.

"No reason, no reason."

Chrissy kicks him harder and he smiles through the pain.

“What is she tutoring in? I’m having trouble passing the last grade.”

It takes Steve a moment to answer, like he's measuring how much information he can give away.

“Foreign languages.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Eddie snaps his fingers.

“Perfect! Can I get her number or something?”

The kick is so hard this time it jostles him forward and he glares back at his friend. It also attracts Steve’s attention to Chrissy.

He smiles at her, a bit unsure and shy. It rubs Eddie the wrong way and he can feel his hackles rise.

“Chris, right?”

“Chrissy,” she corrects, slightly scrunching her nose.

“Oh, sorry. It’s nice to see you again, Chrissy.” He smiles, more genuine this time.

“Uh, you too. Steve.”

Eddie clears his throat, hoping to come off as rude as possible.

Steve looks back at him and his expression shifts immediately. It’s almost a scoff.

“Listen, I don’t just give off my best friend’s number to random guys. But if you give me yours, I’ll pass it on.”

“Works for me,” Eddie says with the tightest approximation of a smile he can manage. “Do you have something I can write on?”

Steve looks around for the pen and notepad that are never in their designated spots and never together. He finds them under the keyboard.

“Here.”

But Eddie isn’t taking the items from him. Steve wiggles them like he would attract a pet or a child, but it doesn’t work. He’s about to make a snarky remark when the guy speaks up first.

“You have a D20 tattoo.”

“Huh?”

Steve is losing his mind.

But then he remembers that he does indeed have one and it’s partially visible when he’s holding out a pen like that.

“Ah, right.” He opens up his fingers and shakes his palm, causing the dice to roll. “It’s my soulmate mark.”

“Dude, that’s so dope.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with marvel and Steve’s throat tightens. “You rolled a twenty, does that mean anything?”

Steve shrugs.

“I don’t know. One of my friends is a Dungeons and Dragons nerd and he told me it’s a luck thing? He freaked out pretty badly when I kept rolling ones on vacation, but nothing happened.” He smiles, fondly remembering Dustin’s panic.

Eddie hums.

“Man, having a functional D20 tattoo would be so fucking cool. I’m kinda jealous here.”

Steve snorts.

“Yeah, Dustin told me that too.”

Eddie finally takes the writing utensils from him, eyeing him contemplatively.

“I’m guessing you’re not a DnD nerd yourself? Considering you get your info from a friend?”

Steve chuckles.

"Yeah, no. Though I do get a lot of brain chatter from my soulmate."

"Brain chatter?" Eddie picks on curiously.

"Uh, yeah. I dream up whole campaigns and know lore I've never really studied. The kids go bonkers over it."

"Kids?"

Eddie's feeling both stupid and entranced by the guy.

"The DnD nerd? Dustin?" Steve says with annoyance that poorly covers up his fondness. "He comes with a full set of other nerds. A party, if you will. They just started high school and no, it's not weird that I know them. I used to babysit them and they just kind of..." He waved his hand. "Stuck on. Like parasites.

Eddie barks out a laugh.

"They sound delightful."

"They have their moments," Steve admits. Then they both stare at the number Eddie has scribbled on the piece of paper handed to him.

"So uh, see you around?"

"Yeah." Steve smiles. It's genuine and pleasant this time. But then, to Eddie's chagrin, he looks to the side. "You too Chrissy. Come over anytime. Maybe you need some tutoring too?"

"Uh, thanks, I'm good. Good luck finding a DnD nerd soulmate," she says, her tone weird. Eddie can't blame her. He wouldn't like being so blatantly hit on either. He could already feel her tugging on his jacket.

"Thank you," Steve says, smile turning a bit wistful. His eyes turn back to Eddie, away from his poor, sapphic-leaning soulmate. Good. He waves the note with the numbers. "I'll let her know you're interested but no promises. And hey, if you're into DnD too maybe you'd be interested in DMing for a bunch of freshmen?"

"I'll think about it," Eddie manages, slowly backing away, the force behind Chrissy's pull increasing. "Thanks, man. And, uh, good luck with the soulmate thing too!"

"Thanks."

The doors close in front of him and it feels like a curtain has just separated him from a whimsical spectacle.

"What the fuck was that?" Chrissy and Eddie ask each other in unison, albeit in vastly different tones.

"Huh?" Eddie frowns at his friend. She had already turned around and was pulling him towards the pizzeria across the street.

"Don't huh me! You forgot I was there!"

"I didn't!" He kind of did. For a teeny tiny second.

"You were clearly flirting with him."

"What? No, I wasn't!" he bristles. He'd know if he was flirting with someone.

She looks back at him sternly when they reach a table of her choosing. She plops down heavier than a tiny cheerleader should be able to and takes on a mocking, high voice.

"Oh man, I'm so jealous of your soulmate. Yes, I will play with your kids. Here's my number."

"I said no such thing," he hisses, sitting down across from her.

"Might as well." She shrugs. "You were interested in him."

"Well, he's an interesting person!" Eddie defends.

"Yeah, the preppy, vanilla high school heartthrob that is clearly not into the same stuff as you, other than his connection to his soulmate," she deadpans back. "Wouldn't have guessed."

"Shut up," he huffs, crossing his arms.

"Eddie, he asked you to hang out with his kids, himself," she points out.

"These are not his kids."

"You're so focused on the wrong details here. Do I have to wingman for you as well? Because I will. Just say the word."

Eddie closes his eyes and sighs. He knows his friend means well but it's just too much.

"Chrissy, stop. I don't need someone who has a soulmate with a matching, kick-ass D20 tattoo waiting for him somewhere. Probably a busty, nerdy girl, too—"

"Ew."

"Yeah, I know. He just seems interesting, and honestly? Expanding the party would be cool. So I might take him on the DMing thing I guess. But please, for the love of gods." He makes fierce eye contact with his friend. "No matchmaking. No wingmaning. Or wingwomaning. No setting Eddie up with a probably-heterosexual dude, who is probably into you."

A shudder goes down Chrissy's lithe body.

"Please don't remind me."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I'm really hoping I'm right about his friend." She drums her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "Maybe it's stupid but I feel like it would magically solve everything. He'd get over me, I'd get to bone his friend, and you'd get a new friend with a kick-ass nerd tattoo." She beams at him and he just can't help but laugh at his little ray of sunshine.

"I hope you're right too."

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beesspacedotorg · 18 hours

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The Sky is Blue, the Grass is Green

Summary: You love your girlfriend more than anything else in the world. It's not hard, she's perfect for you. You'd give her everything she could ever want and more still.

Warning: SEX LESBIAN SEX WITH GIRLS AND LESBIANS. I will say that reader has a vagina as does lino. hits is because I wrote this while half asleep after not sleeping for 16 hours with a sore throat and forgot to write gender neutral reader. outside of the fact that the reader has one of those body type is not specified because :|. uh. spanking (sorry, I'm me) and mommy kink (me) and girls being in love with each other

notes: happy pride month. I've been listening to a lot of music by sapphics recently and it made me gay. Also I saw some loser say that Chappell Roan is the first queer person to publicly yearn for women and that is phenomenally untrue. Internet person who I've never met, this was written to spite you. Sorry for not making this more inclusive to women of all body types or to all lesbians regardless of gender. mayhaps I will write something for you soon. EXTRA NOTE: Moon Chaeyoung is not a kpop idol (to my knowledge) she is Cindy Moon aka Silk aka a Spider-Man. Chaeyoung is her Korean name. sorry for the slander, Cindy, I love you more than anything but I needed a name.

You’re going to make her your wife one day. You know this with the certainty that you know everything else. The sky is blue, the grass is green, you are going to marry Lee Minho. You’re staring at her, watching her make breakfast (that isn’t actually breakfast because you’re eating it at 2pm) in an old school shirt of yours and you can feel your love for her swell through your heart to be pumped through the rest of your body. You think that loving her is the most effective drug on the planet, that people wouldn’t need anything stronger than an ibuprofen because just spending a minute alone with her is enough to give you a high unlike any other. She turns around to plate the food and catches you staring, she always does, and it makes her ears blush crimson.

“Yah,” she says it softly, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Why would I need a picture when I have the real thing right in front of me?” Her ears turn a new, deeper shade of red and she avoids your gaze.

“You’re a charmer, you know that?”

“I have the most beautiful woman in the world in front of me and you want me to be normal about it?” You roll your eyes playfully, and reach for your cup to take a sip of your juice.

“No, you don’t,” she says, suddenly.

“‘No, I don’t’ what?”

“You don’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in front of you,” she hands you your plate - with no eggs because you can’t stand them, and no pork because it makes you sick, and french toast the way your dad used to make on lazy Sunday mornings - made with love and care just like everything else she does.

“You don’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in front of you,” she repeats, sitting down next to you with her breakfast that’s completely different from yours, “I do.”

“Minnie Mouse?” You just came from work, calling through the house to see if she’s home, too. You can tell from the aggravated sigh that comes from the living room that she is, indeed, home.

“You could literally call me anything else,” she’s wrestling Dori on her lap, the tabby always staunchly opposed to having his nails clipped.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You sit down beside her and take the clippers, letting her soothe and calm Dori while you make yourself his least favorite for the night. You’ll live. He’ll come begging for attention when Minho’s too busy being great at everything to give it to him.

“The fun is not having your girlfriend break your toes in your sleep.” You laugh at her and bring her Doongie, holding him instead because he doesn’t care about the whole process even a little bit and you want to pet his soft head.

“Did you know there’s nothing they can do for broken toes?”

“Really? Doongie, please stop wiggling so much.”

“Yeah, they kind of just say ‘good luck’ and kick you out before charging you one million dollars for breathing hospital air.”

“American healthcare really is something. How’d you learn that by the way?”

“My friend had an experience once. Also, it was mentioned in a video game.” She laughs, kissing Doongie’s forehead, then yours.

“Did you learn anything else in that video game?”

“I have incredibly poor hand-eye coordination.”

“I could’ve told you that.”

“What- what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Will you get a towel to wrap Soongie in, please?”

“Hey, wait. Hey! You can’t just say weird things and walk away!”

(“Can you really tell that I have poor hand-eye coordination?” You ask her this while she’s splayed out under you, two of your fingers knuckle deep in her sweet cunt while a thumb circles her clit.

“What?” She’s out of breath and her chest is heaving in a way that makes her tits look even hotter than normal. You almost lose your train of thought.

“Earlier. You said you can tell that I have poor hand-eye coordination.”

“Jesus- you stopped fucking me to ask me that?” One of her hands that was cradling your wrist goes up to her eyes to rub at them. “You’re something else.”

“Well! I just remembered it! Maybe I’m not doing a good job-”

“Stupid girl,” she’s got you on your back now, seemingly not caring about the orgasm she was approaching before you got distracted. “When have I ever not told you when I didn’t like something?”

“Uh. Never?”

“Exactly, so why do you think I’d start now? With this?” She gestures between the two of you and you look, stupidly, like you will see something other than your naked, sweaty body and her equally naked, equally sweaty, incredibly sexy body.

“That’s… that’s a great question.”

“I was just teasing, jagi. That’s all.” She kisses the side of your mouth and you can feel the way her lashes flutter along your cheek in a perfect butterfly kiss. Everything about her makes you fall deeper in love the longer you know her, even her stupidly long and perfect eyelashes.

“So, about my hand-eye coordination.” She drops her head to your shoulder with another curse and your hand comes up to play with her hair.

“It’s still bad, believe me. I don’t notice it when we have sex, though. You’re perfectly good with your hands, jagi.”

“The best?” She smiles, kisses you on the mouth this time.

“The best.”)

She’s got you in between her legs in the tub, her strong thighs thrown over yours so you can’t move while she aims the jet of the shower head directly on your clit. It’s almost too much, it always is, an unyielding wall of pressure that sends shocks of pleasure through your body in a way that makes you squirmy beyond belief. The first time you did this to yourself, you ended up with bruises on your back, the first time you did this with her, you almost elbowed her in the face. As it stands, she’s got her arms wrapped around you as best she can as you whine underneath her.

“I can’t, I can’t. ‘S too much, please.”

“Jagi,” she coos it right into your ear, “you haven’t even came yet. You keep tapping out before it gets good. Don’t you wanna come, baby?” You nod and she tilts her head out of the way so you don’t nail her in the jaw.

“I want to, but it’s so much.” She coos as you again as your legs scramble uselessly for purchase underneath hers. The tile is too slippery for you to do so, and Minho’s thighs are no joke. She’s danced for years and her gym routine is nothing to scoff at. You could spend hours writing sonnets about her legs if you weren’t so distracted.

“You can though, can’t you, kitty cat?” Your hand pats frantically at her arm until she gets the message to hold it in one of her own. “You can be good for me, right? You’ll come the way I want you to?”

The sound you let out in response to that is more of a cry than anything else, she shushes you and kisses your cheek sweetly like she isn’t the one overloading your nerves with sensation, like the isn’t the one unleashing as much water pressure as possible on the most sensitive part of your body. She shifts her grip just slightly, adjusts the angle and that has you lurching forward so fast you almost knock her over.

“Silly girl, don’t run.” She pulls you right back to her chest, boobs pressed against your back as she fixes the spray directly at the angle that had you reeling. “I always forget how squirmy you get when we do this.” She giggles, like she’s watching a silly cartoon.

“Mommy,” you can’t think enough to say anything intelligent, high, pitchy moans coming out in place of words. You want to answer her, to tell her you weren’t trying to run, that you will be a good girl for her. She’s trained you better than this, but you can’t say much else beyond her title, beyond her name. You hope she knows what you’re trying to tell her anyway.

“Oh, jagi.” Her voice is soft and sweet, but the way she’s pinning you is not. Neither is the way she’s forcing you to take what she gives you. “Mommy’s here, kitty cat. Mommy’s got you.”

“Mommy. Mommy.” You’re repeating it, over and over, too dumb to say anything else as you feel the overwhelming input you’ve been receiving crest higher and higher. She hums after each mention of her name like she understands what you’re saying. Hums like you’re one of the cats meowing at her for attention. You suppose she’s not too far off.

You cum with a near silent scream, breath halting in your chest in a way that used to concern Minho when it first happened. She doesn’t keep the water pressure going for too long after that, dropping the showerhead to replace the stream with her fingers to help you ride it out. She only loosens her grip when you slump back against her, loose limbed and dazed, muscles still twitching from how tightly they were tensed. She kisses the side of your face and very politely keeps her hands above your waistline while you calm down.

“You feel better?” She’s holding the shower head again, and giggles when you close your legs, simply holding it to the side so it doesn’t spray water all over the floor.

“Mhm. Thank you, mommy.”

“I’m glad. Let’s finish showering, yeah? Mommy will clean you up.”

(You’re leaning heavily against her as she guides you to sit on the bed, grabbing your respective lotions and hair care products and turning to take care of you first. You whine at her.

“Let me do yours!” She raises an eyebrow.

“Keep your eyes open for more than thirty seconds and maybe I will.” You lift your hands and manually pry your eyelids apart. She bats at them until you stop.

“Ew, it’s so gross when you do that. Freak.”

“I miss five minutes ago when you were telling me I’m the love of your life.”

“Five minutes ago you weren’t being a little shit head.”

“False. I’m always a shit head.” She hums and grabs your chin, wiggling your head a little until you look at her.

“No, sometimes, you’re my sweet little girl.”

“Oh.” There’s absolutely no hiding the way you react to her when she talks to you like that and your hands fly to her hips as she lets go and leans back out of your personal space to grab the stuff to start your post-shower routine.

“Let me eat you out.” It’s sudden, and comes out of you in a rush.

“What?” She nearly drops the bottle of leave-in, ears turning red.

“Please? Please. I’ll get on my knees right now.” She scoffs.

“You’re falling asleep as we speak”

“No, I’m wide awake right now. Please let me, please.” She hums.

“Let me finish what I’m doing and if you’re still speaking in full sentences and not going crazy with sleep induced hysteria, I’ll let you.”

“Yippee!”

“If you fall asleep you can have what you want in the morning.”

“You’re the best, ever.”

“I’m aware.”

By the time she’s done taking care of the both of you, you are definitely not well enough to be doing anything. That doesn’t stop you from trying though, and you fall asleep with your head pillowed on one of Minho’s thighs. She has to readjust you so you don’t suffocate in her cunt. What a way to go.)

Minho is having a bad day today. It isn’t often she has those, generally unflappable to most things, but she’d gotten into a fight with one of her work friends and came home in a huff.

“I just don’t understand why she won’t listen to me!” She’s slamming things open and closed around the kitchen while you sit on the counter. She works around you as she always does and doesn’t slam anything if it’s less than two feet away from you.

“I know, she’s a bitch. You should report her to HR or something.”

“I should!”

“I’ll help you draft the email. I’m very good at sounding bitchy in a nice way.”

“You are!” She’s aggressively chopping vegetables next to you and you rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Be careful of your fingers, lovie.”

“I’m always careful.”

“Of course you are,” you’re unusually agreeable because it will do nothing but harm to work your girlfriend up when she’s already upset. Besides, of the two of you, you’re more clumsy, so it’s not like you have any legs to stand on.

“Do you want solutions to what’s going on, or do you want me to keep calling your coworkers mean names?” It’s nice to ask people what kind of support they want, you learned. Minho is a coin toss, sometimes she wants an immediate solution, sometimes she wants to complain. You always do your best to meet her where she is.

“The second one, please.” She’s sauteeing something in the wok, and it smells delicious. You peer over her shoulder.

“Pause. Is that pancit?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the love of my life.”

“Yes, yes,” you touch your pointer finger to the tip of an iron-hot ear as she speaks, “please call Moon Chaeyoung a cunt again, it’s funny.”

And so you do, going into detail about all the ways Moon Chaeyoung is inferior at her job compared to your girlfriend until she asks you for genuine help.

(“Is there anything else you need?” She’s laying with her head in your lap as you make tiny braids in her hair. Her eyes are closing and she hums as she thinks about it. You’ve already given her all the advice that you can, her only course of action now is to do it.

“Well. I can think of some things.” She turns her head to the side and shoves her face into your crotch like an animal. You swat her shoulder lightly.

“You’re a horn dog. Insatiable.” She turns her eyes to you, squinting them so her cat-like gaze shifts from playful to predatory.

“Which one of us woke the other up this morning because they couldn’t stop shoving their hands in their pants?” She sits up, leaning over you.

“I was dreaming!” You’re giggling, slipping under her arm and moving away.

“You kept going after I woke you up!” She stands up, throwing her arms in the air indignantly. You cross your arms in response.

“I was horny!”

“That’s exactly my point.” She has her head in her hands so the words come out muffled. She grumbles something and lunges after you. You squeal and head towards your room.

“Yah! Get back here you little shit!” She lets out a huff as you throw a cat toy at her.

“I thought I was the love of your life!”

“That was before you decided to run from me- don’t you dare close that damn door-” The bedroom door clicks shut and the sound of your giggles is uncontrollable. You hear her walk away before the lock jiggles and her head pops through.

“Guess who?” You laugh again, heading towards the bed to throw more things at her, it does nothing to stop her. It’s not long before she has you pinned underneath her.

“Hi,” you smile at her, leaning up for a kiss.

“All that and all you want to say to me is ‘hi’?”

“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes and flips you over as you yelp in surprise. You’re about to start questioning her when a sharp sting lights up your ass.

“Ah- Minho! Hey!”

“Stop squirming. I’m not done yet.” There’s another smack over your pants before she pulls them down and her palm is connecting with skin.

“This isn’t fair! I didn’t even do anything!” You’re protesting while laying limply across her lap. She laughs at you.

“‘This isn’t fair’ she whines. Why is your pussy so wet then, hmm?” She spreads your legs a bit and lands a smack there too, snickering when your legs close reflexively on her hand. “Be a good girl, jagi. Take what you’re given.”)

It’s sunny when you ask her. The air is hot and humid and she’s wearing this dress that’s making your brain melt out of your ears. You’re having a picnic, because you can, and she’s talking about this show that she’s watching with Jisung.

“And then- and you’ll never fucking believe this- he goes ‘I could never court her’ and she overhears. If that happened to me I would literally explode.” You hum, shoving a heart shaped sandwich in her mouth while you look at her side profile. She’s beautiful, sharp nose and a round face. You want to live the rest of your life with her.

You’ve talked about it before, on hazy mornings when the rest of the world is just waking. In the middle of the night when the only sound is the hoot of owls and the buzz of crickets. At lunch, at dinner, at breakfast. In the shower, over the phone, through text messaging when you’re at work. You both are listed on the cat's vet information, something she changed a year into dating that she was nervous about telling you.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” she’d said, “or like they’re your responsibility. I can take you off if you want, but I thought that if I was out of town or if something happened, you should be able to take care of them.” She’d been nervous, ears red with shame instead of the cute way they flush when you flirt with her.

“Thank you, jagi.” You don’t often call her that, preferring to torture her with bad puns using the syllables of her name, so her breath catches in her throat.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

She knows every order that you get from fast food restaurants, she hounded your parents for their chicken noodle soup recipe when you got sick one time. She learned how to make your grandma’s spaghetti sauce and let’s you call her mommy in bed because it makes you feel safe.

She’s everything to you and then some, so when you tap her shoulder and hold out the ring you bought, it’s as natural as breathing. A fact of life, an inevitability. The sky is blue, the grass is green, you are going to marry Lee Minho.

“He keeps friendzoning her. It's absolutely despicable, like, are you blind or something-” She turns her gaze to you and her eyes go wide. “You’re joking.” Her eyes are welling with tears, something that you hardly ever see.

“I’m as serious as a heart attack, baby. Will you be my wife? I promise if you say yes I’ll start helping you make the bed in the morning instead of laying on it and making your job harder.” She hugs you, knocking you back onto the blanket you’re sitting on. The movement tips over your cup of lemonade and you damn near lose the ring.

“Of course I will. And you most certainly will not help. But that’s okay, I love you even if you create weird bumps in my sheets and mess up my hard work not five seconds after it’s done.” She kisses your face all over, resembling more like an overexcited puppy than the cats she favors, and you grab her hand to slip the ring on it.

“I love you, Minho. I really do.”

“I can’t believe I get to marry the most beautiful girl in the world,” she says, looking down at her hand.

“You don’t,” you start, kissing her cheekbone. “You don’t get to marry the most beautiful girl in the world. I do.”

(“You know,” she starts as you’re packing up, “I was going to propose to you soon.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Absolutely I am not.” She fishes around the pocket of her dress before pulling out a ring.

“This is so funny. Can I still have it?”

“Of course, it’s yours,” she slips it onto your finger, face heating up to match her ears, “everything I have is yours. Everything and then some.”)

#bee blurbs #ft.lino #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #lee minho x reader #happy pride month everyone #auntie lee know #would it be too much to tag this post with lesbians

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justkending · 2 days

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (7/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 1800+ (shorter but sweet;)

A/N: This is the last chapter of the mini-series! I've loved a break from all my other WIPs and am surprised that I was able to complete this even if I wasn't sure where it was going 🥲 Thank you all again for the support, comments, and sweet love you've sent my way, and I hope to have more free time to write this summer now that I'm on break!🥳💞

Next Chapter

Y/N’s POV:

Four months have gone by since our mission. And to say things are different would be an understatement.

We kept the game of hating each other going on long enough for Steve and Nat to both lose their bets. And then we each did a little betting on the side with the two on how fast we could make the other reconcile. Bucky and I both were $200 richer after that.

The team was shocked at the new friendship, but after some consideration and after coming clean to Bucky about my reasoning for how I treated him, I felt a weight off my chest. That weight grew lighter and lighter with each person I confided in, making our explanation of no longer having a feud unimportant.

My story was a reason for how I acted the last almost five years with Bucky, but it wasn’t a valid one. I was happy to have moved past it and frustrated that it took me this long.

Comfort in having Bucky as a genuine friend was a gift I starved myself of for so long, and I’m happy to know that I’ll have it from here on out.

“If Sam asks, I didn’t do it,” Bucky sped walked into the room and tried to act casual as if he had been in the space the whole time, standing next to me at the kitchen island as I cut up fruit for my snack I'd become hyper fixated on recently.

God bless the billionaire who could keep all fruits, in season or not, on hand.

“Got it,” I nodded unphased, never taking my eyes from the cutting board before me.

“Have I told you thank you for never questioning my antics with Sam?” The smile in his voice is evident, and I turn to see the proof of it stretched across his features as he looks down at me.

“You've established your appreciation once or twice since we’ve become friends,” I laugh, looking back at my work. “Grab me some blueberries from the fridge, will ya?”

As he moved and started opening the fridge, perfect timing, Sam turned into the kitchen with steam practically blowing out of his ears.

“What did you do?” he grunted as he stomped in, fists at his sides.

Bucky turned from halfway in the fridge and gave him a confused look. If there was one thing I learned about him while on the mission, he was a great actor.

“Y/N or me?” he asked, pointing between us with the carton of blueberries in his hand. “Do you want an apple too?” he asked casually, one already in his hand as if Sam wasn’t seconds from shooting him from existence with Redwing.

“Sure, why not?” I hummed, dropping the knife and wiping my hands as I turned to Sam. “What are you going on about?”

“I know it wasn’t Y/N, Barnes. She’s been on a mission the last two days and just got back this morning. This was a premeditated hate crime.”

“Whoa. I’m intrigued now,” I laugh, and start placing the cut strawberries into a bowl I had out and take the apple Bucky hands off to me.

“You want to tell her about your fun, little prank?” Sam turns his annoyance to Bucky with crossed arms, and Bucky flips on the water to wash the berries in hand.

“I would have to know what you’re talking about in order to tell her.”

“Don’t play coy, Barnes,” he points a finger his way, and his eyes could laser through vibranium if they wanted.

“Help us out. Give us context,” I carry on, very intrigued with what it is Bucky had done, and start cutting the apple up.

“As if he doesn’t already know,” Sam grumbled, walking in further. “You know how I had to buy all new long sleeve thermals because my clothes don’t fit anymore?”

I hummed and smiled down at the fruit. “Getting too swole in the gym, as I heard you tell Steve. Trying to match his bench press will do that, trust me. I know,” I raised an arm and flexed for extra measure, and he rolled his eyes as Bucky laughed and placed the cleaned blueberries on the counter.

“Tell me why all my new shirts don’t work…” Sam looked to Bucky with a cold, calculated stare.

“Would work be the correct term?” Bucky poked. “Would you say shirts ‘work’ or ‘fit’?” He looks at me with the tiniest smirk on his lips. I shook my head, trying to soften the smile growing on my own.

“You sewed the end of my sleeves shut so my arm wouldn’t go all the way through!” Sam shouted, pulling the shirt from his back pocket and holding it up.

Bucky let out a ‘pft’ sound and leaned against the counter by me. “Who’s to say I even know how to sew?” In truth, I knew he was using me as a barrier when Sam eventually fell over the edge and gave into his fantasy of choking him out.

“Shut up!” Sam growled. “You stitch yourself up on missions half that time because you hate having the nurses do it. Obviously, you know how to work a needle and thread.”

“Needle and floss most of the time, actually,” he shrugs, and that does it for Sam.

“I’m gonna beat your ass!” Sam stomps hurridly to the counter, but Bucky goes on the other side, estimating his moves.

“Have to catch me first!” he said with a wicked grin, and Sam wasted no time running after him.

As Bucky escaped the room and Sam followed behind him, I heard a “That’s what you get for hiding all the remotes in my room while I was gone, dick!”

_______________________

A few days later, after I got a stitch ripper and helped Sam get his thermal shirts ‘working,’ I asked Nat and Wanda to join me on a girls' trip to buy a new winter wardrobe now that the seasons had officially started turning in New York.

When we returned, Nat was called to talk with Fury, and Banner asked Wanda to be a second set of eyes for something in the lab.

I was left grabbing my bags by myself in the den, and just as I was about to tumble to the side with the last overstuffed brown sack, Bucky came around and caught me. His hand wrapped around my waist as the other grabbed the bag that would have been my doom.

“Thanks,” I groaned as the weight of them pressed into my wrist from the handles.

“What happened to all those gains you got matching Steve’s bench press?” he laughed, taking at least three bags before I waved him off, taking the others myself.

“I gave up on that challenge a long time ago. I’ve lost the muscle mass, unfortunately.”

“You didn’t lose it. Just transferred it,” he winked, curling the fourth bag I fought him taking.

I rolled my eyes and nodded my head toward the hall with our apartments. “You do have a vibranium arm. That gives you more of an advantage than you give credit for.”

“Just be happy this advantage is working for you and not against you,” he kicked the back of my knee as he followed behind me. “Find anything good?”

I turn back and see him glancing in the bag like the snoop he is.

“If I tell you, are you going to sew my sleeves shut?” I hum, turning a corner down the hall from my door.

“Only if you hide all my remotes and then log out of all my streaming services, so I have to put them all in one by one,” he whistles a jazzy tune. “Stear clear of that, and I’ll be nice.”

“Ooo,” I cringe, turning and looking at him as I put my thumbprint on the door to unlock it. “He got you with the minor inconvenience prank. Those are the worst.”

“Minor was an understatement. Hence the retaliation.”

We both go inside, and Bucky places his bags on the couch while I dump the remaining ones on my bed.

“Thanks for the help,” I smile, stretching from the long day out, and shrug off my coat as I settle.

“No problem,” he replies, but I don’t hear him move to leave, so once I throw my coat off completely, I turn and give him a look. He’s watching me intently, and I feel almost bare under his gaze.

“Was there something-”

“Can I ask you something?” he cuts me off, and his mood shifts.

“Um, yeah. Sure. What’s up?” I turn to him and give him my full attention cause it seems serious.

He hesitates at first and almost looks nervous as he contemplates how to ask me whatever it is.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he looks around my room towards the living space.

I follow his gaze, trying to see if I’m missing something. “Plans that I can think of... No. Why?”

“I was wonder- well. I was- I was wondering if you’d want to maybe- I mean, if you’re up for it, of course, possibly maybe, watch a movie or something?” he gets out, and oh my God. I’ve never seen him fumble over his words like this before.

“Watch a movie?” I recap as I blink out of the idea that Bucky is 100% nervous. “You and me or with the rest of the team?”

He lets out a small chuckle and rubs the back of his neck.

“You and me. If you’re ok with that,” he answers, looking at me bashfully.

“I’d be up for that,” I smile and my stomach does a little flip even if I’m not sure where he’s going with this. But the teenage girl who never got to experience this before is doing cartwheels. “What movie were you thinking?”

He seems to have a permanent smile now because of my answer, and I can’t lie and say the one on my face doesn’t hurt a little from how wide it is.

“Lady's choice. I’ll bring one of those fruit bowls you like to make and maybe-”

“I made some cookies this morning. I hid them in the pantry because we all know Tony and Sam would have finished them off before I had a chance even to smell them from the oven,” I rush out.

“You’re baking tends to have that effect on many people around here. I kind of miss when I was the one and only recipient of it,” he laughs. “Even if I wasn’t lying about gaining a few pounds.”

I roll my eyes at that and start to walk to the door, stopping to put a hand on his shoulder. “We both know that your metabolism is far too magical for that to be a long-term problem.”

“True, but I’m not against testing that theory,” he shrugs, bumping my shoulder with his own as he walks with me.

I stop right before reaching the door and turn to him with a grin and blush I cannot control.

“Bucky, is this a date?”

As if he’s so sure of himself now, the nerves melt off him; he says, “I was hoping we could count it as one this time. Considering all the others were fake, even if I don't count most of them that way...”

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @billyseye @hallecarey1

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @julvrs @mostlymarvelgirl @heletsmelovehim @learisa @bubblegumbeautyqueen @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321

#bucky barnes mini series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x mini series #justkending #marvel mini series #bucky barnes x avenger reader

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