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penkura · 3 days

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OP Men Holding Their Firstborn for the First Time

Note: This is in relation to my post of headcanons for these five men and their children. I just started thinking of which ones of them will cry, who will freak out over holding a tiny baby, who may reject the thought at first. And it came to this lol. I think the next one in this series will be names for the kids or babies taking their first steps! The baby fever is strong help. For now, please enjoy these men being soft about their offspring!

Ace almost has a heart attack when you try to pass your daughter to him, he swears he felt his heart jump into his throat when you ask if he wants to hold her, saying no that he's fine for now, but you insist he should. He doesn't do so for several hours, instead watching you with her as he works up the courage to have her in his arms.

What if my powers activate and I burn her? What if she cries and kicks? Oh lord, what I drop her??

"Ace, please. You need to hold her."

The look on your face, like you're begging him to hold her, finally makes Ace agree, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed to take your hours old daughter from you. You remind him to be careful of her head, make sure to support her, and smile when you finally get to see the two loves of your life together at last.

She doesn't fuss or cry or kick, instead staying fast asleep and seeming like she's snuggling into the warmth Ace radiates thanks to his Devil Fruit powers. He's just amazed by her, her tiny little nose and the beautiful, dark eyelashes that brush her chubby little cheeks. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen after you of course.

Ace fights not to cry but can't help the few tears that sneak out, wiping them away on his sleeve quickly, the one time he wears a shirt and it's the day you give birth to the newest love of his life.

Gosh, he always knew you were amazing. Now you've given him a family of his own, how could he ever repay you?

"Thank you for her...she's so perfect."

Ace can't seem to tear his eyes away from your daughter's little face, and that's okay with you. She's his baby too, he needs to have some time with her.

"What do you think we should name her, Ace?"

Oh. Oh crap, she does need a name huh?

Law doesn't even have a chance to think about it, he's holding your son immediately after birth since he was the one to help you deliver obviously. Once your baby boy is wrapped in a towel Law hands him right to you before checking to make sure you're doing all right. Your vitals are all normal and stable, he's relived that you're both fine, while he watches you talk to your crying newborn.

You tell him that it doesn't count that he held your son right away since he's your and the boy's doctor, eventually getting Law to sit down and actually hold him as his father instead. Your son kept fussing and crying until Law finally got to hold him, the newborn quieting after a few moments but keeping his eyes shut tight and his little hands in fists as he kept whining.

Once he finally opens his eyes to stare up at Law, it's probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life apart from Bepo.

Especially once you catch sight of a few tears in Law’s eyes, making you smile softly as you lean back to just watch them. He's quick to rub at his eyes and make them stop, but the few sniffles you hear every bit tell you he's trying to stop himself from looking like a bigger baby than your literal baby he's holding.

He's never actually held a baby so tiny, not since Lammy was born. And to know this is his son, it's crazy to think about while he watches your baby boy start to fall asleep.

He really does wish his parents, sister, and Cora-san were there. They'd all love to meet your son, and you know he's thinking that, but you hope realizes that all the Heart Pirates are going to love your little boy just as much as his family would have.

And that eases the sting a bit, especially when they all do get to meet your son, and not a single one of them is without tears, beyond happy for you and their beloved captain.

Penguin almost begs to hold your daughter once she's born and you're both stable. Law tries to push him away while he takes your daughter's vitals and measurements, asking how on earth you dealt with Penguin being so clingy the last nine months, which just makes you laugh.

"Go sit with your wife, damn it, I'll bring her over in a minute."

"But, captain--"

"Penguin, just come over here for now."

Penguin sits beside your bed and pouts until Law finally brings your daughter over, about to hand her to you before you direct him to your husband. Both ask if you're absolutely sure you want Penguin to hold her first, until you confirm it, and Law hands your daughter to her father, showing him the right away to hold her, before he leaves the three of you alone for a few minutes.

Penguin is absolutely enthralled with her. She's still fussy from being born, stretching out her little arms and legs, making cute little sounds, and he just can't believe she's finally here. He feels like you two waited an eternity for her to be born, now she has been! She's so small, she fits perfectly in his arms and it makes him want to cry so much.

"She's so tiny."

"And she looks just like you, Peng."

Due to you having twins, you hold your son while Sanji holds your daughter, blubbering like the baby girl was because he's just so happy to have these babies with you. It makes you want to laugh hearing him cry, watching him kiss your daughter's forehead to try and calm her down while he dotes on her and you give your son attention.

"You're an angel, a perfect little gift from heaven!"

When you finally swap which baby you're each holding, Sanji still cries, happy to have a son too! He never really thought you'd have twins, or that they'd be fraternal on top of it! Both are so precious to him, you're precious to him, this little family you've now built together.

Your daughter has his hair, but your son looks just like you to Sanji. He kisses your son's forehead before looking at you and your newborn daughter, still unable to believe this is going to be his life from now on. You, and him, and your two tiny blessings.

"I love you so, so much."

He can't wait to call Zeff and let him know the good news.

Zoro has no worries or qualms or tears when holding your son for the first time. Actually, it doesn't hit him for a few hours that he has a child now.

Your son is so quiet most of his first day outside the womb, sleeping and eating, only fussing when he needs something, but you're able to calm him down quickly. The way you're able to do that when this is your first baby impresses Zoro more than anything today.

It's only once you're asleep and he's holding your son again that it really gets to him. There's another person depending on him now, this one being his own flesh and blood, his newborn son that already looks just like him. His hands are so tiny, he's not even able to fully get his little fingers around one of Zoro's fingers.

Chopper made sure you both were left alone for the day, Zoro taking a bed next to yours and laying back with your son on his chest that night. That's when he realized just how small your baby is. His hand covered the newborn's back completely, his tiny hand fisting Zoro's shirt as he slept, small coos and whines coming from him every now and then. Zoro looks at you for a moment, before back to your son with a smile.

Your son may not have been planned, but Zoro's more than accepting of how his life is turning out.

Note 2: I am absolutely willing to elaborate on these men and their children. If anyone wants to see something specific, just send me a message! I'll be posting more of my own thoughts too!

#one piece x reader #reader insert #roranoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #penguin x reader #sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #black leg sanji x reader

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tojisun · 10 hours

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sex with simon… oh the worms. they're going crazy

!! (mentioned) breeding kink; squirting; unrealistic (and hinted gratuitous) sex; afab reader

he would keep you in his bed however long he wants. you could have work or any other scheduled outing, but nothing gets accomplished nor is a priority the moment he's got you in his room. it's not like he chains you to his posts—not unless you two planned it—but he teases, rutting his cock along your stomach or punching it deep in your cervix. the croons come soon, always accompanied by open-mouth kisses along your skin.

“y’r so wet, listen—”

you squeal, clawing the sheets at his deep thrust; the slide so wet and sloppy, your cunt drips and squelches. your cheeks tingle with warmth and your chest thrums with the feeling of shame, and you want to curl into yourself but know you are unable to.

not with how simon’s bearing down on you like the weight of his fat cock isn’t enough to smother the little air you don’t gasp out in your dizzying bliss.

he grins, seeing the way your eyes roll to the back of your skull and feeling your toes curl from where they are pressed on the rise of his ass, and doubles the speed. his pelvis meets your own, the head of his cock snug just before your cervix and you hiccup, thrashing, your slack jaw even more useless.

gargled keens is all you can reply to simon’s taunts, your mind and body unable to form any coherent thought.

your pussy aches. oversensitive. you are sure your walls will permanently be stretched, shaped by the size of simon’s cock—he’s ruined you for everyone else.

god. the thought shouldn’t be pleasing but it makes you scream, hips jumping as your orgasm builds, reaching its peak, frantic as it razes your body and—

and—

simon grunts at the wet gush of your squirt, your slick forcing itself past the plugged-in girth of his dick. he hisses to himself at the biting pleasure of your pussy gripping him like a wet, used vice, his mind going numb at the onslaught of ecstatic sensations filling his synapses.

his orgasm hits him hard too, his teeth digging into your skin as it racks him with such ferocity.

you sob, hitting him weakly with your trembling fist because s’too muh– simon s’too mu–!

he whispers his sorry’s. says this’ll be the last round, he swears, his eyes blissfully closed as he fills your womb with his cum.

(let it take, simon sings to himself.

let it take. let it take. let it take.)

but he doesn’t pull out his flaccid cock, not even for a break, and you whimper, your mind humming with need and your clit thrumming with unbridled desire, because you know he’s not done.

not yet. not with how simon looks at you with dark eyes, his kiss-swollen lips tugged up in a grin. it looks more like a snarl, you think.

“‘m gon’ make a mess out o’you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice soft even as it descends into you with a certain finality. “gon’ fill this cunny with my cum until y’r womb’s sloshin’ with all of it.”

you blink your wet eyes up at him and mewl, “please.” because you want nothing less.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #cod x reader smut #suns #i was hit with the need a while ago do forgive me #q

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berryhobii · 1 day

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Baby Mama Drama(jjk x reader)

Pairing: BabyDaddy!Jeon Jungkook x BabyMama!Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K+

Warnings: reader and Jungkook coparent, they have a daughter who is mentioned but doesn’t appear in the story, reader and Jungkook technically aren’t together but they still love each other and fool around🥴, reader irritates the hell out of JK but he can’t stay mad at them, reader is definitely a little toxic, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), oral(m and f receiving), 69 position, the sloppiest of top, face riding, fingering, reverse cowgirl, reader rides like a pro, missionary, reader has a tattoo🤭, reader is also dragging that wagon, reader also also has that certified WAP, reader is flexible, squirting, unprotected s*x(don’t do this and then turn into this couple), creampie, dirty talk, one face slap, multiple ass slaps like seriously JK is obsessed with reader’s badonk a donk, a little degradation and a dash of dumbification

A/N: I’M BACK EVERYONE!🥳for anyone who didn’t read my last post, my tumblr was suspended for a little while so that’s why I wasn’t posting. Anyway, it’s over so I’m back to work. This is a piece inspired by @joonberriess and their Sleazy!JK storyline. Shoutout to them. I love everything about the way they write JK and reader so definitely check them out if you haven’t already! Their stories make me want a sleazy baby daddy who can’t leave me the hell alone but I know I’ll never be able to handle that in real life so fictional is good enough for me!🤣this fic is just kind of a reverse of theirs where I made reader a sleazy and jealous baby mama. I know this kind of behavior is a stereotype among the black community but I am in no way condoning it. It’s just fiction and meant to be entertaining. Anyway, please let me know what you guys think as I am always open to criticism and please look forward to my upcoming posts! Much love and thanks for reading 🤎🤎🤎

“So, do you have any kids?”

Taking a sip of his drink, Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, one. A daughter. You?”

“Two. Their father is an absolute nightmare though. Thank goodness we have a court order. I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to pull all my hair out.” She bitterly laughed with a shake off her head, tossing the rest of her drink back. “What about you? Is your child’s mother a monster?”

Jungkook titled his head, a strained chuckle leaving him. “Um, well she’s…..something.”

The woman hummed. “I get it. A real bitch, huh? I hate women like that. Ones who can’t let their baby daddy’s go and are somehow always around. So annoying. Like don’t you have something better to do?”

“Yeah and I do it 4 times a week in my Queen sized bed.”

Jungkook stiffened at the sound of that familiar voice. There was only one person he knew that spoke that crassly to strangers.

The scent of your perfume and the smell of the mousse you used on your braids invaded his space and solidified that shit was about to go downhill.

The woman, who’s name he don’t think he ever caught, made a noise of surprise once you appeared before her. Your body stood right between her and Jungkook, forcing her to step back a little. Arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked out to the side, your eyes roamed up and down this woman’s body in a scrutinizing manner.

“And who are you?”

Leaning back a little, you plopped yourself right on Jungkook’s lap.

Looking her up and down once more, you answered simply with a big smile, “I’m unimpressed. Nice to meet you.”

Ignoring you for a moment, the woman looked around you to make eye contact with Jungkook who was shooting her a look that screamed, “please walk away!” She didn’t really understand what was going on. Who were you and why did you walk into their conversation on 10 like that? It was one thing to interrupt a conversation but to be that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know? That didn’t go down well in her book.

Copying your previous stance, the woman replied, “Well I’m unimpressed with your attitude. Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”

“No but she taught me to how to wrap a bitch’s hair around my wrist and keep swinging until my arm gets tired.” Your smile was sugary sweet but your words cut deep like knives. The woman was stunned. No one has ever spoken to her this way and it was a rude awakening. She didn’t even know how to respond.

Not wanting to see you demonstrate your mother’s teachings, Jungkook quickly stood to his feet. “Well, we should really be going. It was nice meeting you. Let’s go.” He grabbed your arms to start pushing you away from the woman.

“No it wasn’t!” You called out, both of you leaving the shocked woman by herself.

Once you two had made it outside, Jungkook’s frustration boiled over.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it everytime I meet someone, you show up and scare them off? We aren’t together anymore. Is it not getting through your head? Like what the hell-“

His rant was flying right over your head because all you could focus on was how unbelievably sexy he looked today. How dare he walk outside like that? And he was going to waste all of that on some random stranger in a bar? Yeah right. Not as long as you had a say about it.

Your greedy eyes trailed from the top of his head to those bulging veins in his neck and down to his soft cock that was pressing against his jeans. Whew, just imaging that monster had your panties sticking to you. It was so big and warm and when he was giving you back shots…..

“Are you listening to me?”

You blinked a few times, your eyes slowing raising until they met the searing glare of your baby daddy.

“Uh yeah. Something about airline prices. So what are you doing tonight?”

Jungkook couldn’t fucking believe you. God you pissed him off to no end but he always had a way of letting off some steam.

“Let’s go. Now.”

“Yes sir.” You purred with that mischievous glint in your eye. Jungkook’s own eye twitched at the implications behind your tone but he decided to ignore it in favor of turning around to begin walking to his car, you hot on his heels and a Cheshire like grin on your face because you were getting what you wanted.

The drive back to his place was quiet, as was the ride up the elevator and the living room as he moved to sit down. He didn’t even raise his eyes to look at you once since you got in the car. Although you could see right through his petty act.

Flopping down on the couch next to him, your head leaning against your hand, you said, “come on, baby. You’re not still mad at me, are you? I said I’m sorry.”

No answer.

Moving closer to him, your hand trailed over his chest and up to his face to turn his head to face you, lips just centimeters apart. This wouldn’t be the first time you were on the receiving end of his heated glare and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“What do I have to say for you to forgive me? I hate when you’re mad at me, baby.”

“Then stop doing shit that pisses me off and I won’t be.” He fired back, that low tone of his sending shocks down your spine.

“I’m sorry. Now let me make it up to you.” He could pick up on that sultry voice anywhere and those bedroom eyes you were currently shooting him was a dead giveaway as well.

He rolled his eyes. “You need to stop expecting dick everytime you come over here. It’s not gonna fix anything.”

Gasping dramatically, you moved back a little to hold a hand to your chest in faux offense. “You wound me, tater tot. I came here with pure intentions to apologize to you. Can a woman not apologize to her baby daddy without him thinking she has an ulterior motive?”

An unimpressed look crossed Jungkook’s face from your dramatics and from that stupid pet name you gave him all those years ago.

“Whatever.” He mumbled. “Fine. I accept your apology. Just don’t do it again.” A warning that fell on deaf ears because yeah, you’d definitely do it again if needed but for now, you’d bask in his forgiveness.

“Thank you, baby. You know I only want to make you happy.”

“You do,” he whispered, those doe eyes lifting to connect with yours.

Your lips met, your hands pushing Jungkook back against the arm of the couch to climb into his lap. He went willingly, melting into your touch and the feeling of your plump lips. His own hands traveled up your thighs to squeeze at the plushness of your ass, his grip forcing your covered cunt to rub against his growing erection.

His grunts mixed with your low hum of pleasure as you grinded against one another but Jungkook could only tolerate about a minute of that before he started getting impatient.

Groaning against your lips, he struggled out a, “fuck. Sit it on already.”

The sounds of your giggles made him pause, eyes cracking open and his eyebrow raising because what the hell was so funny?

“Oh nothing.” You said as if reading his mind. “I just remember a very certain someone saying not to expect dick everytime I come here yet that same person is telling me to sit on his dick. How the tables have turned.”

Rolling his eyes yet again, Jungkook suddenly heaved himself up, forcing you backwards. Your giggles increased, the contagion of your amusement finally breaking him and stretching a full blown smile across his face.

“You’re so goofy.”

“Then do something about it, Mickey.”

In a show of strength that turned your panties from a pool into a water park, Jungkook heaved you over his shoulder, hand coming down on the fat of your ass.

“I’ll do something about it alright.”

Once you made it to the bedroom, Jungkook tossed you down onto the bed and was about to climb on top of you but you were a little quicker. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him down until he was flat on his back with you straddling his waist—his hard cock pressed right against your clothed cunt, just waiting to be released.

Leaning down, you captured him in another kiss while he captured your ass in his grip.

“Damn I love this ass….” He murmured into your lip lock which made you giggle.

After deeming him throughly kissed, you sat up to take in his flushed face and reddened lips. Perfect.

“Forgive me yet?”

He hummed, fingers playing with the hem of your top. “Maybe after you take this off.”

Ever so compliant, you gripped both sides of your shirt and pulled it over your head to reveal your bare breasts to Jungkook. His eyes could have popped out of his head, the groan he let out a mixture of arousal and slight irritation.

“You’re not wearing a bra?”

Shrugging one shoulder, you simply answered, “I knew I was coming here. What’s the point? Do you want to know if I’m wearing underwear?” That cheeky smile answered the question for him and it only sunk him further into the already unhealthy infatuation he had with you.

Gripping your ass, he roughly grinded your cunt down on his erection. The friction made both of you gasp, the air starting to feel electric as desperation began eating at both of you.

It didn’t take long for both of you to undress each other. Jungkook helped you wiggle out of those tiny shorts you wore, letting out a curse as a little drip of sticky arousal snapped back against your inner thigh. Sitting up, he grabbed the back of his shirt to pull it over his head and toss it somewhere in the room. Now you could feast your eyes on the hard planes of his body and trace your fingers those intricate tattoos that marked up his skin.

Leaning down once again, you trailed kisses from that sweet spot on his neck, down his chest and over his abs until you reached your destination. Your eyes never left his as you began your descent, hands tugging at the waistband of his jeans to pull them down and Jungkook helped kick them off. You licked your lips at the sight of Jungkook’s hard cock slapping against his abs once you freed it from the confines of his pants . He could see that hungry look in your eye, smirking as he took hold of his erection and began lightly pumping it; a motion that drove you fucking crazy was watching him stroke himself. It just did something to you.

“You want it, bug?” He teased to which you nodded frantically.

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.” Opening your mouth, you held your tongue out to lick at it, Jungkook hissing at the contact. He slapped it against your wet muscle a few times before letting the tip slip in your mouth. You immediately wrapped your lips around it, suckling at it like a desperate whore. Which you were but only for him. No one else could make you act like this.

You replaced his hand with your own, licking and spitting all over his cock to lubricate it. Taking him down your throat, you began bobbing your head up and down, making sure to twist your wrist just the way he liked it.

Jungkook let out a series of low moans, curses, and the tiniest of whines everytime you went down. One hand gripped at the ponytail you put your braids up in and one hand behind his head, he let you take the lead. You knew just how he liked it, just the way to flick your wrist and tighten your throat to throw him over the edge in minutes.

Coming off him with a wet cough, you continued to stroke his cock, your spit soaking your own hand but that only helped the glide. Your hazy and hungry eyes stared right into his, your chin and mouth soaked in saliva. “I love this cock so fucking much.” You gasped before taking it back down your throat and bobbing your head.

Tossing his head back, Jungkook let out a strangled moan, forcing your head down. You let him, of course, relaxing your throat so he could fuck up into your mouth.

“Come sit on my face, baby. Right fucking now.” He demanded.

Pulling off him a little, you maneuvered your body until your pussy was right over his face—69 style. He gripped both of your ass cheeks in his palms, pulling you down until he could suck your neglected clit into his mouth.

You let out a sharp gasp around his cock, finally getting some type of relief. Sucking his cock made you a different type of horny and he could see that with the way your cunt was dripping.

His mouth and tongue started going crazy, ravenous as he alternated between sucking and licking, making sure to dip his tongue in your opening everyone once in a while. His hands continued to slap and grip at your ass, one wandering sometimes to pull your slippery lips apart so he could really get in there.

His hand trailed down from your ass to your tight opening, squeezing a finger into your spasming walls. He located that sweet spot with practiced ease, slipping in another finger in beside it and stretching your snug cunt open. The squelching of your walls was like music to his ears, adding to the salacious ‘gluck gluck’ noises your throat was making as you swallowed his cock.

Since you were horny on your way here, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start burning hot in your belly.

You pulled off his cock but continued to stroke him, your cheek resting against his thigh as high pitched moans left your lips.

Jungkook flattened his tongue, his grip on your ass guiding you to rut against his face. The fat of your ass almost suffocated him but Jungkook couldn’t imagine going out any other way. He hooked his fingers right into your gspot, your eyes rolling back and head hanging low as you used him for your pleasure.

“Oh yes! Oh yes, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum!” Lifting your head, you took his cock back into your mouth, burying it all the way to the hilt in your throat. Jungkook’s hips jumped, him groaning against your clit, the vibrations sending shocks right through you.

A few swallows around his cock and a few more jabs to that spot inside of you and both of you were cumming. Your body tensed, hips rutting faster against his face to ride it out. He thrusted his hips up once, twice, three times before letting out a drawn out moan as he pumped his release down your waiting throat. Your body shivered as buzzing pleasure raced down your back and to your toes. You don’t think you’ve had an orgasm like that since…….three days ago when Jungkook ate you out in his car after he had to pick you up because you forgot to get gas.

Amazing car head aside, the party wasn’t over yet.

“Sit on it, bug. Hurry.” Jungkook rushed you, tapping your ass a few times, his breath labored and tone dripping with desperation.

Good thing you were just as eager because you crawled forward on your weak knees until he was lined up with your entrance. Reaching between your legs, you held his wet cock steady as you slid down on it. Jungkook’s hands held your ass cheeks apart to watch, eyes blurring slightly as your hot, tight, and gushing walls wrapped around him. You weren’t faring much better, your head knocking back as his thick cock stretched you to your limits. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken his cock, the pure g i r t h always knocked the breath out of you. This is why you couldn’t leave him alone, his cock was just too fucking good. You’d be damned if you ever let someone else take it from you.

Once you were settled to the hilt, your body leaned all the way forward to rest between his legs and you began bouncing your ass on his cock.

Jungkook was mesmerized by how your fat ass rippled and moved against his pelvis. At this moment, he didn’t give a damn how many women you threatened or how much you pissed him off; just the sight of your ass and the feeling of your juicy cunt wrapped around him was enough to make him remember another reason why he couldn’t let you the hell go. He loved your pussy too much. And if that wasn’t enough, the sight of that tiny ‘♡JK’ tatted on your left ass cheek certainly let him know.

Jungkook’s hands came down to slap repeatedly on your bouncing ass. “Faster baby. Fuck, this ass is so good!” The seat of your ass was wet from a combination of spit and cum, the wet slapping noises filling the space. Your moans were in competition with the clapping of your ass, your cheek pressed against the sheets and your nails digging into his calves.

“Ahhh! This cock is so b-big,” you whine, “love it so much…..right there….! Oohhhh-ohhhh fuck!”

Lifting up a little and adjusting your knees to a better position, you began throwing yourself down on his cock, the head brushing against every spot you had and sending you reeling. You’d come all the way up until just the tip was inside before slamming back down, the bed shaking underneath the force. Jungkook’s toes curled, your cunt gripping him tighter than a vice.

He was about 98% sure his soul left his body, eyes rolling and head knocking back against the pillows as his lungs struggled for air.

Not able to hold it anymore, Jungkook was quickly flipping your positions. Now it was your turn to be on your back, your legs spread in a wide V shape, his cologne invading your senses and his lips covering yours. He was everywhere, all over you. Your skin was on fire from his touch, sweat soaking your back and air becoming sparse as he kissed away what little oxygen you had left. You were obsessed with him. He was yours as you were his. Nothing would ever change that.

His cock buried itself back into your walls, a deep moan of pleasure getting caught in your throat once he began jackhammering into you. Your hands gripped the bottom of your feet, keeping them apart so he could continue to plow into your soft spot. His hips moved like a well oiled machine, making noisy contact with your ass with every thrust.

Your mouth dropped open, “oh my…..fffucking g-god…!” Tears welled up in your eyes as blinding pleasure spread over every nerve in your body.

Jungkook grunted, his own pleasure peaking at the sight of your fucked out face.

“Yeah? You about to cum? Are you gonna what the fuck I say and stop acting so fucking jealous? Huh?” Drool dripped down the sides of your mouth as you tried to form sentences but hurried ‘yes yes yes’ were the only words you could manage. “How many times do I have to fuck you before you get that through your thick head? I only want you. Fuck you push my fucking buttons but I know it’s just because you want me to fill up this tight cunt, isn’t that right?” A slap came across your cheek, orgasm crashing into your body without warning from the sudden strike.

Jungkook could feel wetness soaking his pelvis and cock, jaw tightening as he began moving even harder—the headboard knocking into the wall so hard that he doesn’t think he’ll get his security deposit back for this place.

“Juicy fucking cunt squirting all over me. Mhmmmm….I’m gonna fill this pussy up. You want that? Want me to send you home with my cum running down your legs?”

Your ears were ringing, his dirty talk propelling you right into another endless orgasm, your toes curling in the air as blissful overstimulation began to take over.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts and he was burying himself deep in your sopping cunt. His cock throbbed inside you, the thickness pressing right into your abused gspot. Your hands released your feet to scramble against his back, sharp acrylics digging into his skin and making him hiss in slight pain.

“Ohhhhhh shittttttt….fuck baby,” He groaned out as he pumped creamy ropes inside your clenching pussy, your spasming walls sucking him in and milking him for everything he was worth.

Both of you collapsed from exhaustion, Jungkook’s face planting itself in your breasts and your legs falling weakly to the bed with a light thump. Only the sounds of your heavy breathing filled the room, both of your hearts beating wildly as you two came down.

“So am I forgiven?” You asked as you two soaked in the tub, the scent of an apple scented bath bomb wafting around the room.

Jungkook was behind you, head leaned back against the wall as he tried not to fall asleep. “I guess so. Just stop doing that, okay? It’s so embarrassing.”

“Deal.”

A beat of silence washed over the room, just the sound of water lapping against the sides of the tub filling the space.

“One more time.” You suddenly said.

“Huh?”

“You asked me how many times do you have to fuck me before I get it through my thick head to stop being jealous. I think one more will do the trick.”

Jungkook let out a chuckle, opening his eyes only to find your beautiful irises staring back at him with that playful and lustful glint.

“You’re impossible.” He scoffed with an endearing shake of his head.

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

#bts #bts x black reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook

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cheriladycl01 · 14 hours

Text

I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader

Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…

Credit to micksradio

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.

For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.

Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.

You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.

Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.

"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.

You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.

Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.

"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.

"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.

"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.

"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.

"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.

You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.

Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!

But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.

Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.

And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.

He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.

"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.

He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.

He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.

It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.

And god you loved him for those attributes.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.

But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.

He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.

And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.

He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.

You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.

Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.

But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.

And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.

But ... now wasn't the right time.

You would always take your Whiskey neat.

And Lando ...

Well.

He was far too sweet.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

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dwaekkicidal · 2 days

Text

Kiss it Better

˚ʚLee Know x Gn!readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Minho has a rough day at the company and comes home exhausted, craving your loving.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: <1k (~650)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: nothing its just tooth rotting fluff

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: double post because ty for 100 followers :3 also max this is ur fault (AGAIN LMAO) im so weak at the idea of this help

edit: MAX POSTED HER OWN VERSION OF THIS PLEASE GO READ IT IM (S)CREAMING

MDNI!!

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

Not long after his messages, Minho waddles into your shared apartment. Kicking his shoes off and throwing his keys on the kitchen table without any care. You peak your head out of the bedroom at the sound of the front door closing. When his eyes meet yours, you see the deep scowl on his face, but his eyes soften immediately at the sight of you. You smile softly and make grabby hands at him before ducking back into the room to start the shower for him. In seconds he’s following you and undressing through the doorway, desperate to get his sweaty clothes off.

You wait patiently on the bed and scroll through your phone. It doesn’t take long for him to return in his boxers, towel drying his hair on his way to the bed. Your phone is quickly tossed to the side and you pull him into the bed with you, watching as he throws himself on his stomach and groans into the sheets. You hold back a giggle at the sight and opt to run your hands down his bare back. He shudders but you can see him physically relax when your hands lightly massage his upper arms. He turns his head to the side, looking back at you as much as he could without straining himself.

“You wanna talk about it? Let me take care of you tonight baby..” You whisper out, the softness in your voice making his eyes shutter close as he nods lightly. You swiftly move to straddle his thighs, placing a kiss on the back of his shoulder and trailing down very slowly as he speaks up. He goes on for a while, explaining how the new choreography they were learning was extremely draining, telling you about the argument he got into with one of the members, and whining about the quality of the dinner he had at the cafeteria. He goes into light details about every other little thing that chipped at his happiness for the day while you trail kisses down his bare back. Your soft hands massaging up from his arms to his shoulder blades and you hum in response to every experience he lists, placing extra kisses for each as a reward.

By the time he’s done telling you about his day, he’s all but a puddle underneath you. Eyes shut and muscles completely relaxed. You back away to sit up, softly dragging your nails up and down his back to keep the attention on him. A wide smile spreads on your face as your eyes catch one of the cutest sights you think you’ve ever seen. Soonie lays next to Minho’s face, licking his hand as he softly caresses his baby. Not far away, Doongie and Dori are laying near each other and sleeping against your pillows. You carefully reach for your phone and take a picture, before laying beside your boyfriend and Soonie.

“Feel better?” Your voice startles him, his eyes closed and breathes lighter than normal. He doesn’t bother opening his eyes to respond with a quiet “Mmmg..”

You get up and walk over to your closet to grab a blanket, not wanting to disturb any of them by going under the sheets. You pick the softest one you own before returning. Soonie is gone when you kneel on the bed and you could almost thank him for the chance to be close to Minho.

You lay your head on the empty space left on the pillow and watch as Minho drags himself up to you, shoving his face into your neck and wrapping his arms around you. Your hands trail through his hair, massaging his scalp softly as he drifts off.

The two of you fall asleep like this, tangled in each other. There’s a quiet “Thank you" and "I love you so much.” from Minho as he finally falls asleep. You respond with a soft kiss to his forehead, drifting off shortly after.

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

#lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know fluff #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagines #lee minho fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #sian’s writing

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nereidprinc3ss · 11 hours

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do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

part one | two | three | bonus chapter | four

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days.

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days.

It’s scary.

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space.

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up.

But you’re not quite there yet.

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy.

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting.

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice.

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting.

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either.

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause.

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally.

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick.

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach.

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment.

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all.

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat.

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself.

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position.

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him.

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass.

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that.

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step.

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy.

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you.

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea.

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence.

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there.

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do.

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue.

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder.

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out.

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person.

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now.

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort.

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you.

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him.

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle.

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer.

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up.

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes.

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man.

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that.

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—”

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again.

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this.

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you.

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff.

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group.

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice.

Soon, it’s just the two of you.

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond.

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.”

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high.

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts.

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence.

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice.

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud.

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing.

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset.

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running.

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears.

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream.

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care.

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right.

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you.

You feel like you might throw up.

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away.

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking.

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is.

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying.

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder.

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette.

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you.

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection.

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you.

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them.

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again.

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale.

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice.

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive.

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more.

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby.

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again.

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink.

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words.

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles.

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk.

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup.

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant.

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit.

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it.

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede.

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done.

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you.

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him.

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta.

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever.

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side.

“You in there?”

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup.

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing.

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes.

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating.

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him.

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate.

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed.

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive.

Spencer attempts to speak again.

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?”

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face.

You don’t know where it comes from, either.

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms.

Too scared.

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too.

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room.

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final.

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home.

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do.

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing.

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet.

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move.

If only time would freeze before he could walk away.

But it doesn’t.

He sucks in a decisive breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

It’s that fucking phone call all over again.

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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strangererotica · 2 days

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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington x Reader | Steve is on a mission to get you pregnant, as a thunderstorm rages outside… | Includes breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex (naturally lol) and mentions of drinking wine.

(This fic pairs well with a previous post ⛈️)

You were busy chatting away, all giggly and excited as you told Steve a funny story from work. You didn’t realize his attention had drifted far away from your words by the point his second glass had been emptied. Steve’s dark hazel eyes were focused on your lips, and the blush spreading your cheeks from the wine you were sharing…the pretty sound of your voice as you spoke, the way your animated gestures caused your breasts to jiggle over the top of your dress...

Steve distractedly pulled his fingertip along the edge of his wine glass, his eyes wandering up and down your face and body with a wolfish intensity he made no effort to hide. Steve’s main focus, as always, was on you. And tonight, with the promise of a storm rumbling nearer by the minute, it seemed that Mother Nature herself was beckoning Steve, practically begging him, to ask the question…

“Do you want a baby, (y/n)?” Steve asked. Your eyes widened, a bashful smile heating your cheeks. Steve already knew the answer to his question; you’d both discussed a mutual desire for children quite some time ago. Obviously, the two of you were having sex, and often. But you were still on the pill (when you remembered to take it, at least) and since the subject of actively trying to get pregnant hadn’t been seriously discussed, Steve was still pulling out each time he came.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the soft, pretty glaze in his eyes it had created, that made Steve’s suggestion especially tempting, exciting, almost dangerous…?

He was serious. And you knew it.

It’s how you ended up in bed less than ten minutes later, a mess of arms and legs tangled together, lips searching, craving one another with an intensity that rivaled the raging storm outside.

Steve had made his mission clear, through a series of slick kisses that tasted like you, climbing up your body from where his face had been nestled between your thighs: he was going to get you pregnant.

Your fingers clutched the edge of the mattress, nails digging crescent shapes into the foam. Steve’s breath was hot against your neck, raising goosebumps along your shoulders, the groans from between his lips thick and labored. The hair spread over Steve’s chest, moist and curled with sweat, rubbed coarsely against your back, stomach muscles taut where his body rounded yours, enveloping you.

Steve took you with both the soft, steady rhythm of making love, and the rough, selfish thrusts of a man wanting only to fuck you. The storm outside boiled over, a burst of white light illuminating the bedroom, the sharp crack of lightning briefly masking your cries of Steve’s name. The sweat on your skin glittered in the sudden light, which flickered like a dying bulb through the bedroom window. Steve dipped his forehead to your shoulder, his tongue pulling a quick stripe across your back, tasting your skin. You shivered at the contact of his warm, wet tongue, your clit throbbing in response to the stimulation.

Thunder rolled close by, vibrating the mattress Steve had you splayed against. His right hand slid beneath you and cupped your breast, groping you gently as his voice panted hot and breathy at your ear. “I’m so fuckin’ close, honey.” The weight of Steve’s balls slapped against your ass, heavy and full. Steve had so much cum to give you, enough to keep you dripping for days.

He exhaled against your shoulder, his voice focused, forehead creased in concentration. “Gonna feed this pussy so good tonight-” Steve murmured, his voice breaking softly. “-fuck a pair of twins inside you before morning…” Lightning erupted nearby, crackling loudly above the room. Steve’s growl of release was drowned out by the sound of the storm, his climax overtaking him as the room around you was splashed in light. Thunder rolled deep and slowly, drawing further and further away. Steve’s groans devolved into a low whimper of relief as his body softly crumpled into you, his wet lips finding yours from behind.

“Think we did it?” he asked, and you giggled a little, rolling onto your back so you were looking up at Steve. He didn’t quite understand, so you explained that it would likely take at least a few months of really trying, timing cycles, charting temperature, etc, before you’d actually get pregnant. “Well,” Steve shrugged, undeterred. “Even if it doesn’t happen tonight-.” He tugged your body into his chest, stroking back your hair with his hand. “-I sure as hell don’t mind practicing…” 💜

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yorsgirl · 1 day

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Fuck you . Gladly

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The embers of your jealousy is fanned when girls forget that your boyfriend is not available. The only problem – silent treatment is your go-to reaction. Good for Sukuna, he knows how to make you talk.

Tropes: Established relationship, smut

Warnings: Explicit smut, fingering, fellatio, spanking, degradation+praise, choking, rough/angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms(female), mentions of smoking and cheating, no curse AU, college boy!Sukuna, kinda toxic relationship, strong language, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count - 3.8k

A/N: nope, sorry, this isn't the Sukuna fic whose sneak peek was posted a few days ago. That's a long one so it's taking time, instead I am feeding you this. Enjoy :)

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

Jealousy is a ugly thing.

From childhood, you were taught to always be poised and content with whatever you have. Limited resources, not the best outfit or not your desired commodities. Accepting and being satisfied with it was the norm.

Your mother said the same, "Jealousy is a ugly thing." When you admitted to be jealous over a certain classmate whose grades were higher than yours. I saw her cheating in the exam hall, words were on the tip of your lips but you resorted to keep the dirty secret to yourself.

Heard the same from your friend, "No need to be jealous, its the worst of emotions." When you fumed over how you can't go to a particular excursion (blame your strict parents) while she gets to go.

Jealousy is a ugly thing. Be content with whatever you have, even if it's not the best.

Oh- but fuck off to that age old quote that was thrown down your ears.

You get it. You really do, be glad with whatever you have and shit! And you are. You really are. But how could jealousy not play when others try to put their filthy hands on what is rightfully yours?

In this case, your boyfriend – Ryomen Sukuna.

You aren't particularly insecure about your relationship with him. Contray, you do trust him a whole lot and his mannerisms to the opposite gender doesn't defy your view of him. However, problems arise when a dumb bitch forgets that your boyfriend is not out in the market for her to rub herself.

Take today for example – it wasn't long after Sukuna's practice match while you watched him from the bleachers. Silently, gushing to yourself of how gorgeous your boyfriend looked with the sweat dripping down his hair and forehead, the perspiration glistening on his skin and over his well sculpted abs when he pulled his jersey up to wipe his face, once his eyes landed on you– fuck it! He does that on purpose. More clear with the stupid grin he had when he noticed you, checking him out. You swear, you hate him the most.

Ah– sorry, that went off topic... so where it was? Oh yeah!

Not long after his practice match did you watch that bitch Yorozu, literally jump out of the bleachers and run into his arms like she is his damn girlfriend. (She isn't). While you quietly, revelled over the fact when Sukuna without a bit of damn respect shoved her away, you couldn't shake out the fangs of malice growing inside you.

That brings you here, leaning back on the headboard of your bed with your phone clasped firmly in your hand, you scrolled through instagram. A rather pathetic attempt at ignoring Sukuna, who tried to strike up a conversation with you but you remained nonchalant.

"How long will you keep up that attitude?" Sukuna questions, leaning on the wall to your shared bedroom, a bored expression laces his features.

You don't answer, you don't even make the effort to look at him. It was perhaps, good time to just break your resolve for you've been giving him the cold shoulder since yesterday. Honestly, you don't even know why he's on the receiving end of your wrath? Sure, you are mad, but you are more mad over that wretched bitch than your boyfriend. But, as you have no relation with her, its him who is suffering.

"Jesus Christ," Sukuna murmurs to himself, rolling his eyes as he steps up and sits in front of you.

He calls your name. You don't answer. He calls it again–his tone harsher. Your response is silence.

The next thing you know, your phone is harshly snatched away from your grip.

"What the fuck?!" You curse aloud, fire burning in your irises as you glare at him. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

He scoffs, "So now you talk."

You try to reach for your phone but his counter is putting it away with a hand extended out. "Give that back."

"No."

"Yes."

He grips your right wrist in a tight hold, not enough to hurt you, just to keep you in place.

"What the fuck do you want?" You ask, the attempt at pulling your hand away proves futile when he tightens his hold.

"For you to stop acting like a brat."

"Acting like a brat?" You could only scowl. "I was silent the whole time. Is breathing illegal for you, now?"

His carmine irises blaze with annoyance as he retorts back, "You know damn well, I am not talking about that."

"I don't." You had always been bad at lying.

"Fuck yeah, you do."

You don't respond to that, trying to reach for your phone which he is doing a damn good job at keeping away. "Sukuna," Warning drips from your lowered tone, "I am not in the mood. Give my phone back, now."

"Yeah?" A humourless chuckle leaves his lips, "You're not getting it tonight, deal with it." You grit your teeth, trying to keep in the bubbling anger which would flow out any second but sure the God's hate you cause Sukuna's next words crumbles every bit of your self-control.

"Besides... why do you need it anyway? What?" He raised an eyebrow. "Texting some bastard while you I am in your no communication zone."

That's it. The fucking audacity.

Cheating. Something you can never speak or joke about, and he knows it still the God damn audacity to spit shit in front of you as if you're the one whose locker would be filled with love notes on valentine's day.

"You fucking asshole," You stand up, pulling your wrist away from his grip. Rage pours tumbles out of the dam, pouring through your every vein, every bone, every pore. "You have the fucking audacity to accuse me of cheating when you're the one smooching of other girls."

There's bad move. Then there's the worst fucking move of all.

This was the latter.

Sukuna rose up instantly, his gift of height gave him the upper hand to easily glare down at you. "The hell did you just say?" His tone turned a note low, the deep raves of his voice enough to warn of the impending danger.

Did that scare you? Maybe. Were you going to back down and say sorry? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

You scoffed, folding your hands over your chest, "Oh, you heard me." It was entertainment. Pure entertainment. Watching him riled up over a simple accusation. Hell, you'd pay to witness it again and again. "Do I have to say it again to your face, cheater?"

If he's so much offended to be labelled as a cheater then he shouldn't have brought up the topic in the first place. It doesn't make sense on what type of logic, you're backing yourself up but if rationality worked in cases of fueling rage and huge egos then there'd be no wars in the first place.

His response could only be grasping you by the throat, firmly as he roughly pushed you back on the wall. "I am the cheater? I've been nothing but loyal to you."

"The last time Yorozu–"

"She was clinging to me and I pushed her off, what more do you want?"

Nothing, I am just fucking jealous. That's what, you should be saying but you don't cause- cause you just can't. You grit your teeth and resort to profanity, "Fuck you, nonetheless."

"You stupid bitch," His grip around your throat tightens and that's when you're finally aware of your position. With your back pressed against the wall and his calloused hand grazing over the pulse point of your throat–this situation could not be more intimate.

You are hit with his cologne mixed with the musky smell of cigarette which, you assume, he had smoked before coming to you. A heat burns in your core as you notice the intricacies of tattoos that marks his visage; each one luring you to trace your fingertips over them.

You're still antsy and a flurry of provocative insults are resting on the tip of your tongue which would be spit out any second but- but what could be the better time for your estrogen levels to rise?

It's not long after that you mutter a curse under your breath, your fingers find their way to his collar; a second later–you are locking lips with him.

Sukuna's initial shock of the situation is evident as his lips doesn't move against yours. Yet, he indulges soon, his eyes flutter shut when he responds with equal fervour and fire. He tilts your head back, his tongue lapping over your bottom lip and a sigh escapes him when you give him access. His free hand find their way over to your hair, tangling his fingers through your strands as he tugs them back – deepening the kiss.

You groan against his lips at the surprise pull. His tongue prods inside your mouth, engaging in a harmonious dance with yours – swirling and lapping with it. His hold on your throat was tight, cutting off your air supply while his mouth moved against yours in a rhythm. Allowance of breath was gratified once he felt your mouth tighten against his. You gasped and panted for air, his hold on your throat loosening just a bit. When you looked up, a suggestive smirk was plastered against his lips and damn– wasn't that just irksome.

Sukuna pulls you closer, nibbling on your earlobe which incites a rather sinful moan from your mouth. "All that attitude and you wanted this. Should have just said so, princess." It's almost mocking on how he used the nickname.

"Fuck you."

"Gladly."

Said so, his mouth again presses over yours, harder than the previous time. The passionate liplock lights the fire in both of you as Sukuna's hands glide down from your hair. Caressing the curves and contours of your body before finally resting on the plump flesh of your ass. He squeezes your buttocks while trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw and lips.

"Use your words from next time, princess."

Fuck it. Fuck him. He is smirking. You can't see it but damn, isn't it palpable? Your eyes are shut tight as his hand moves from your buttocks to your thighs and upto your thong. "Fucking soaked," He hisses under his breath, feeling the large wet splotch that has settled over your the fabric.

"Ngh– Sukuna," A breathy moan slips past you as he palms you over the garment, tracing the outline of your clit and entrance. His attempt at teasing you is working dangerously well and you have to restrain yourself from giving into this wanton pleasure. You grip onto his biceps, nails digging into the muscles from over his shirt. "Stop fu-fucking teas–ing me."

"Am I teasing you? Mhm nah, I don't think so." His heated breath falls hot over your neck as he licks a line over the curve of it. "Tell me, what do you want me to do?"

You don't answer, silently scowling at him but that's his cue to slide your thong aside and caress the skin over your needy pussy. He knows what you want. And he knows only he can give it you. But he won't. Not until you say it. And you won't say it cause you're damn stubborn and you've got to show him that you're still mad which is proving difficult under his skillful ministration.

Well, that isn't a bother to him, you can stay with your resolve all you want while he enjoys playing with you.

"F-Fuck it– Sukuna–," You whine, pushing your hips towards his fingers to just receive an inch of stimulation but that's fruitless. The attempt at clamping your legs shut is the worst play you could make as Sukuna harshly slaps your pussy.

"Keep those legs spread like a good whore."

You hate him. You really do. You hate him for the certain joy of degradation mixed with praise – one, only he can evoke from you. The phrase had a electricity shoot to your cunt causing it to throb as a sheen of sweat formed over your forehead.

The grip over your resolve breaks and you find yourself speaking before you can even think, "Fuck– Sukuna, need you, ngh– now."

"Now, that's like a good little slut." Sukuna doesn't need to be told twice before two of his digits delves inside your aching cunt while the rough pad of his thumb presses over your clit.

You throw your head back at the needed stimulation and courtesy to Sukuna's hand tangled in your hair–shielding your scalp from hitting the wall. The flurry of curses and moans leaving your lips could have been recorded. His fingers move in and out of your cunt in a fast pace while your pussy sucks them in. He hits your g-spot and that has your eyes rolling back in your head. The squelching noises from your pussy and your breathy loud whimpers reverbrates through each and every corner of your room. He draws circles over your clit, scissoring his finger in a V, stretching you out.

"Eyes on me, princess," He murmurs in your ear and you comply soon after. Gazing in his crimson eyes darkened with lust, a shiver runs down your spine as your legs tremble while he fingerfucks you like playing the keys to a piano. "Watch the only man who can make you cum like this."

It's possessive and diabolical. He has no right to act such when you aren't even the one who's going around entertaining the opposite gender. But you don't have any bit of resilence left in you to tell him to fuck off. Besides with the amount of strings he's pulling, its only a second later that you spasm and milk around his digits.

Sukuna pulls out his fingers from your hole, gazing at the slick and fluid running down them with amusement flickering over his irises. Yet, he pushes them to your mouth, pulling down your lower lip. "Clean up your mess, brat."

You keep your eyes on him, taking the same fingers which was in your cunt, in your mouth as you lick them clean.

"Yeah? Like that? It's yours, princess." You hum in response. Your brain is still hung up on the earlier scenario, and even though getting off on his fingers did relieve your frustration. You're still not satisfied. Nay, you aren't letting him off the hook that easily. That's when a rather vile idea conjures up in your brain, a smirk escapes your lips.

"Hm, whatcha smiling about?"

You could only laugh, "Ah– you'll know." It's in a second that it happens – the tables turn. It's now Sukuna with his back resting against the wall while you smirk up at him. Your hand slid down to his sweatpants and damn– his clothed bulge could only compare to the actual thing. You kneel down before him, a mischievous glint shadowing your eyes. "Let me return the favour."

You hook your thumb and pointer finger in his waistband, pulling down his briefs. His cock springs out, smacking against his abdomen and for a second, its like you get a brain freeze. Rock hard, and the veins are protruding out of the shaft. It isn't the first time, you've seen it but each time you do, realization hits of how huge it is.

"Less staring, more sucking, princess." Sukuna says from above, threading his fingers through your hair.

"Oh no, just admiring a work of art," You reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. It isn't a lie but it's sure a push to his ego. You look up at him, holding the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue over his mushroom tip.

"Fuck," He mutters to himself, head tipping back when your warm mouth latches over his hardened shaft. He pushes himself onto your moist mouth, hitting the back of your throat as you almost gag on his cock. You compose yourself soon, looking up at him as you bob your head up and down on his thick, veiny shaft.

Sukuna's grip on your hair doesn't falter, instead tightens as he establishes his hold while tangling his finger through your strands. You assume he likes it (and why wouldn't he? Only you can give him a head like this) from the way noises leaves his mouth as you take him in as much as you can. Your hand glides over the remnants of his dick, stroking and pressing on it.

"God yeah– fuck... j-just like that– ngh."

Your name rolls out of his mouth sinfully causing your cunt to suck on air. Drool runs down your chin to your jaw as you lap your tongue over his shaft – swirling and drawing over the bulging veins. You feel him twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. He knows, he's close as he heaves in a ragged breath.

Good. You were just waiting for that.

You detach your mouth from his cock with a pop, standing up as you press your lips to his for a brief second. A smirk played at your lips, "Now, wasn't that nice?"

"What the fuck?!" Sukuna growls at you, dumbfounded at the wave of pleasure that would've washed over him if not for you.

"Pay back, darling." You grin, pressing a kiss to cheek which only infuriates him more.

It isn't a second later that you are roughly thrown on your bed as Sukuna hovers over you, pulling your skirt up and ripping at your thong. You don't have the time to complain when he pushes his cock inside your throbbing cunt, hitting right at your g-spot on the very first stroke.

"God, Suku– ah–" A harsh slap is delivered to your ass, you hiss in pain as Sukuna picks up the pace. Pulling out his cock just to the tip before shoving the whole girth in–stretching and filling you up to the brim.

"Sluts don't to speak," Another smack lands on your ass cheek, harder than the previous. It would sure leave a mark but he could care less. He swipes at your hardened bud, pinching it as you cry out in pain. "Yeah, like that– scream like the dumb bitch you are."

You are panting, trying to breath but his hand is clamped around your throat like a collar–pressing down your wind pipe. "Gnhh– Su-Suku' ahh– too m-much."

"Too bad, you're taking it." His hands find their way under your thighs, pushing them up until your knees are pressed up beside your face. He folds you in a mating press, reaching spots in you which you didn't know existed. "That's the thanks I got for making you cum. Brat's like you need to be punished." Said so, he reaches under your shirt, squeezing and kneading your breasts while he tweaks over your nipples.

You fist the sheets, eyes rolling back, you are almost on the verge of seeing stars before your eyes. His strokes has your legs tremble but he holds you tightly in his grasp, pinching and tugging on your erected buds. You swallow a deep breath feeling yourself clamp around his cock, you're close–too close and his swipes inside your pussy does not make this situation better. "Sh-shit, ahh– g-gonna ngh– cum."

"Oh yeah, so soon?" He pinches your clit elliciting a scream from you. "Like that, don't ya? Nasty little bitch, cum."

You suck him in, feeling yourself come undone under him. But– uh oh...

Sukuna is far from done.

You don't have the time to catch your breath, before he flips your position; you're straddling his lap with his dick still stuck in your cunt. "Wait– what the–"

"We are far from over," He whispers near your ear. "I still haven't cum, slut." He leans back on the bedframe, squeezing your ass cheek with a lopsided smirk stuck on his face. "Go on, take responsibility of your own actions. Or..." He stretches out the word, looking down on you. "Can you not?"

Did he really...? Was that really a challenge thrown your way?

If he thinks your estrogen levels aren't enough to keep up with his testosterone then he's damn wrong. You snickered, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh–he grunts out in pain. Your knees are aside his hips as you push yourself down on his cock. "You should know better than asking me if I can go on."

"Hm, prove it then."

Damn bastard... he's toying with you, provoking you with words and damn! It's working well. Like a moth to a flame, you are playing into his whims and you're damn sure, he's laughing his ass off inside his mind.

"Fuck off," You curse at him, pulling yourself up before sitting back on his member.

"Gosh– shit," Sukuna grabs your hips, groaning at the way your warm walls feel around his dick. Hooking his hand under your top, he tugs on it and you oblige, putting your hands up as the garment is thrown off your body. He doesn't waste a second before delving in to bite and suck on the flesh of your neck while fondling your breasts.

The only sound that reverberated through the room were your wanton moans mixed with his groans as your name was chanted like a mantra. Your butt slapped against his lap as you bounced on him, your mouth parted as a trail of drool ran down your chin.

It's the same dance, you've danced with him countless times. The flicker of flame that burnt could only be fuelled by your combined desires. Each kiss, each bite, each stroke giving rise to the allure of just one more. Once again.

You felt Sukuna's cock twitch inside your sore cunt–burning and ravished from taking him in so long. Your pleasure was coming in soon. And at the last second, Sukuna's mouth met yours in a salacious, deep kiss–resulting you to moan in his mouth as his seeds paint your walls white. You come simultaneously, ragged breath of relief erupting from you.

Both of you part, as you stay still over him, catching your breath. You look into his eyes; he's staring right back. Huffs and pants could be the means of communication and even though your room is air-conditioned, a thin layer of sweat covers the both of you.

For a second, there is a amalgam of emotions that flicker in his gaze alone. They disappear before you can name them yet- you believe there was a hint of tenderness to them.

"I hate you," The words flow out of you yet you don't know, why they don't have the same sharp tone as always.

"I hate you," You repeat again.

A smug smirk plasters over his lips as he clicks his tongue, "Right? Who was riding that dick–"

"Shut up."

Yes, you do hate him the most.

#sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x you #ryomen x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen x reader

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luza-wayne · 3 days

Text

calling them with another name (part 2).

kozume kenma, oikawa tooru, akaashi keiji

i completely forgot to post this, my bad

here's the part 1!

kozume kenma

a lil suggestive if you squint

“ken…” you called for your boyfriend, who's currently busy with his switch.

“hm?” he hummed, not sparing a glance at you. you pouted and just muttered it's nothing.

you rolled on his bed, not sure how to make your boyfriend, kenma, point his attention to you. it was so hard to find free time for both of you while you’re both in college. while thinking hard, you heard your phone pinged, you lazily reached for it and saw that your friend messaged you.

you immediately opened it and saw that she had sent you a video. it was a tiktok video of a girl calling his boyfriend a different name and seeing his reaction. your friend even said to try it on kenma and see how he will react.

you were reluctant, knowing kenma is too busy playing, you're not sure if he'll even notice that you called him by a different name, but with your friend's persistence, she managed to get you to try it.

well, here goes nothing.

you went behind him and rested your head on his arm. he peeked at you a bit but went back to playing again.

will this really work?

“hey,” you started, kenma took off the headphone on one of his ears.

“hm?” he asked.

“pay attention to me already.” you whined making him chuckled softly. he just planted a kiss on your head, before going back to playing.

“boo. forget it, you're always busy playing, mitsuo.” you delivered your plan and crawled back on the bed and scrolled through twitter on your phone.

not even a minute passed, kenma took the phone from your hand and he's already on top of you, his arms locking you within his grasp.

you looked at the switch he was just holding a few moments ago and it was just laying there, you made a terrible decision to look him in his eyes. kenma is staring at you as if he's looking through your soul and he's not saying a word.

“k-ken?” you called, your heart starting to beat incredibly fast and your lips forming an awkward smile.

“that's not what you called me earlier.” he said, every word making your knees feel like they're wobbly.

uhm, hello?! this is not the reaction i thought i would get! what is this?!

“ke-kenma, what?” you tried to look away from him, but he just made you look at him again.

this is too much for me to handle! i didn't expect kenma to be like this!

“kenma, it's just a prank!” you confessed shakily. “haha.” you smiled at him nervously, your hands waving in front of you.

instead of a confused expression, you saw a smile creeping up on kenma's face. he laid on top of you and cuddled you.

“i know.” he spoke, his voice resonating through your neck's skin.

“huh?” you asked him confusedly.

“i know you were just playing with me. i saw a lot of videos like that, and i just decided to turn the tables on you.” he explained.

you hit his biceps playfully while telling him how you thought he was mad. he muttered that he was sorry for that and that he's sorry for not giving you enough attention. you guys cuddled up for a bit before it was disturbed by a certain rooster-head.

“kenma, let's go play vol—” kuroo slammed open the door of kenma's room and found him cuddling with you.

an teasing smile immediately flashed his face, and you heard kenma groaned knowing how kuroo would react.

“oh my~ it seems like i interrupted something. ohoho~” the former captain said, putting a hand on his mouth as if he was a reserved lady.

“shut up, kuroo. leave.” kenma said and buried his face deeper on your neck.

“yes, yes. please don't be too sweet to each other, you might attract ants.” he said before leaving the two of you alone.

oikawa tooru

“babe,” you heard the same sweet voice call from outside your room just when you finished packing your things.

you looked where the voice came from and oikawa was there standing by the door and waving your way. some girls are glancing at him as they walk past him, but sadly for them, oikawa doesn't notice them, for he's only looking at you. waving and smiling like an idiot.

you apologized to him in your mind, because today you'll be doing a prank on him and hopefully you can do this according to your plan.

when you went to him, he immediately kissed you on your forehead and even your hands.

“what? you're being extra sweet. did something good happen?” you laughed as you started to walk away with your hands locked with him.

“hm? no, it's just, i suddenly felt happy when i saw my beautiful girlfriend.” he said and suddenly threw himself on you, hugging you in the middle of school grounds, with students walking from all directions to go to their clubs or to go home.

“jeez, people are starin— ahahaha stop that!” you screamed when oikawa suddenly tickled you.

“hehe, sorry, sorry.” he said and stopped, placing a kiss on you again.

you guys continued to walk before some of his aggressive fan girls arrived. when you two are out of school, you finally decided that it's time to commence the work.

“hey…” you called for his attention. he immediately leaned down to you, still holding your hands. “our anniversary's close, i was thinking, how about we go out of town?” you suggested. oikawa's eyes beamed and smiled at you.

“that's nice, babe! where should we go? kyoto? kanagawa? ah! how about akita?” oikawa muttered excitedly, and even did actions with his other hand. you smiled at how high tension he is, but you need to focus on your job.

“haha, i see you're excited about it, shuichi. let's go to my house and discuss it there.” you said and pulled him to your house direction.

oikawa titled his head as you pulled him until he forcefully made his body stop and pulled you too. you looked back at him, with a smile, holding back your loud laugh at seeing his expression.

“what?” you asked him, trying to sound normal. he let go of your hands, in the most dramatic way, even letting out an 'ugh' sound.

“no, no, no, i am your babe.” he said pointing his finger at him. you just nodded at him.

“you are my babe.” he followed, you furrowed your brows, but still nodded.

“then who is this shuichi loser you just called me?! my name is not shuichi and will never be shuichi. ah—! are you cheating on me?!” he said in one breath, putting both of his hands on your shoulders.

“i—”

“no! i need an explanation. i demand an explanation!” he emotionally drew his eyes away from you.

yeah, i was about to explain, but you cut me off.

oh shit. why didn't i take account of how much of a drama queen my boyfriend is?

“(y/n), tell me what did i do wro—”

“tooru, it's just a prank.” you plainly said.

“huh?” he stopped all his movements and let go of your shoulder.

“prank, just a prank.”

“ah! how could you?!” he shouted as he put a hand on his chest and turned around.

“i thought it would be a good one, sorry hehe.” you apologized and hugged him from behind. but, oikawa looks at you with a pout and teary eyes.

“i thought i had a heart attack. hmph!” he broke off from your hug and started to walk.

“what? tooru, are you going home now?” you asked him as he walked further, but he suddenly stopped and went back to you. “yes?”

“give me your bag.” he demanded that you complied. when you handed him your things, he ran off again.

“eh? babe?” you called.

“don't talk to me! go and do your stupid prank on someone else!” he said and grumpily stomped.

“yeah, you're acting as if you're mad and yet you're still going in my house's direction.” you teased and laughed.

“hmph! i still want to go to akita with you, duh?!”

“‘duh’? hahaha! tooru, you're so cute!” you said and ran to him.

akaashi keiji

cuddling with your boyfriend, akaashi keiji, on their couch, while watching anything you two find is a normal routine for the two of you whenever his parents are out or in another town.

but, right now, your beautiful prince is sleeping while you watch the movie you are really looking forward to watching with him. you are sure that he's not asleep because he's tired from practice or that he stayed up late last night, so the only reason he fell asleep is that he got bored watching it.

“keiji, we haven't even reached the middle part and yet you're already sleeping.” you murmured as you turned off the tv. you lay on top of him and as if he's awake he snaked his arms down your waist, but you're sure that just reflexed, so you put on your earphones and went to tiktok.

scrolling down, your eye was hooked on one video of a girl pranking his boyfriend. should you do to your boyfriend? hmm...

after thirty minutes, akaashi woke up to the smell of cookies that you just baked.

“ah, good afternoon to you, mister. i was just about to wake you up.” you told him when you saw his eyes wide open when you placed the bowl on the table.

“mhm, i woke up to the aroma.” he said and looked up at the tv. “what happened to the movie?” he asked.

“well, you are already sleeping, so i just turned it off.” you explained. “forget about that, why don't you give these cookies a taste?” you told him and gave him a piece. he took a bite and chewed on it.

“so? how's the taste, yukio—”

eh? (y/n), what the hell?! wait, omg. the prank is still on my mind, and i unconsciously said the name that the girl used in the video! i wasn't even planning to do it!

“u-uhm…” you nervously scratched your cheeks and took a seat next to him.

“it tastes good…” akaashi answered. you sighed deeply in your mind, thinking that he's not mad, or so you know.

“how about thi—” you didn't finish speaking when akaashi talked.

“so, (y/n), who the fuck is this yukio?” he looked at you, and you saw the most serious face you've seen in his face.

huh? i thought i was safe! i thought he'll just let it slip, just as usual.

is this what they were talking about in that idiom about don't dare to joke about a person who just woke up-something?

huh? wait. did i hear that right?

“keiji, did you just curse?” you asked him, in complete awe, to hear your usually calm and collected boyfriend curse.

“that's not what's important right now. cut the crap and tell me who the fuck is that yukio?” he said and furiously ran his fingers through his scalp.

“again. keiji, you cursed again.” you stated, just staring at him with your hand on your mouth.

“(y/n).” he deadpanned.

“somehow... it's so hot to hear you curse, keiji.” you melted as you looked at him lovingly and hearts can be seen in your eyes.

“babe...”

“keiji, one more.” you said with your puppy eyes, wanting to hear more.

after a few more pleas to him, akaashi gave up.

he already realized that that was just a prank and yet, he is now stuck with you who seems to have unlocked a new world for you.

i wrote this back in 2021T^T, anyways i hope you enjoyed that!

if you'd like to support me, you can click here! ❤︎ ྀི˖ ko-fi anything will be deeply appreciated.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kozume kenma x reader #kenma x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x reader #kozume kenma #oikawa tooru #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #luza-wayne #luza-wayne works

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greenandsorrow · 2 days

Text

the price for misbehaving (ii)

post rut Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), plot

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either.❤️

From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.

~masterpost~

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?

In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.

"A- Al?"

Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.

You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.

He doesn't need you anymore.

After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming that hid a great deal of desperation to his tender claiming last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... that's all it takes really, then you were nothing but a fucktoy.

"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"

Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!

Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior to him.

This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach to churn with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.

You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.

Sinking in the water, having it envelope you, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench. A long and audible sigh. Your hands around your frame.

You start crying.

If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.

Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.

But oh the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him, you being there for him that is. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.

Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you.

As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.

Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable at peace! Not like you're in Hell.

"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"

Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is okay to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiles smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.

"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"

"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.

"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"

"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my dear!"

"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-" The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a child whining. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he suit himself in.

Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees, shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle you are. The radio demon scranches his nose.

"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"

Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.

Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.

Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"

You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"

The fucker chuckles!

"Oh I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.

"Go to Hell."

"Ironic."

You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.

The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the wall and crouches down so he is eye-level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's a guilt eating him from the inside.

While he was in heat, in breeding mode, or whatever you wanna call it, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.

And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things that he doesn't particularly feel bad about, but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.

You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.

So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID IT TO YOU.

Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.

"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."

It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.

"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.

The radio demon's worry deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."

No one has heard Alastor apologize before, not even God, for all that's worth.

His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."

"I'm not in pain... Just sad."

You do look rather devastated.

Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.

He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."

"None of it?"

Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.

"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."

You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.

What really surprises you though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.

"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."

"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"

"Now now little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."

You sigh and settle in his lap.

"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"

Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then peaks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his but he doesn't seem to care for such detail right now.

"Now let me see you."

"I said I'm fine!"

"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."

"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."

"Hmmm, did you say something dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"

It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state it's very validating to have him take care of you.

So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.

Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.

Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.

"I'm fine Al. Really."

"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."

"It's just a bite or two."

"I drew so much blood..."

"Yes and?"

He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories, in the days when he still hadn't taken good care of his father. As long as he hasn't permanently marked you it should be fine.

"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."

"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"

"You were my solace."

"What-"

He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."

"I don't do cuddling."

"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."

You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from all of your intense moments, but it was a relief to know he still wants you in his life after the rut has ended.

Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear, no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy -to him- equals vulnerability and vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.

"But we did sleep together until yesterday."

The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.

"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."

You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored to an extent after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.

"But why do you not like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."

"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things my dear..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that. You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good. And I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion of physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.

"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."

The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.

Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you now. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow. It's a cozy place. His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel Dust, but unlike the former he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft hairs around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining as one might expect, it's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.

Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?

His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's that was a bad thing.

As you're nuzzling against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host and a serial killer.

"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"

Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.

"That feels nice..."

"Oh I know."

"What were you saying?"

"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable baby boy! ...my mother... she..." His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.

There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.

"Can you keep this up?"

"Sure Al."

"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes of course! Mama and my curly mop."

The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story. It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.

"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-

As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently they didn't like that at school! So my father... he radio static intensifies he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently then no one would take us seriously."

You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything, that's not your job.

You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.

"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."

You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that is resting on his chest.

"But it is!"

Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.

You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.

Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you. The radio demon is enamoured with you.

Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.

When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.

"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona. You haven't even completely woken up and you're already wondering about this new side of him.

"Al? Is everything okay?"

"Oh why yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."

"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"

You expected him to laugh or even chuckle but Alastor goes straight to the point. "All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."

Kissing him would mean that you actually view him romantically and that whatever "friends with benefits" situation you had going on will get destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.

"We can change that y'know."

You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and loses no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile on his face.

"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.

Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate, but not overly aggressive. His lips are very warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

Once again -just like when it came to sex- you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power, an instinct if you will, provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.

And then you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.

"When I thought I was doing a good job-"

"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so he is.

Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.

To be continued.

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mattyriddlesbitch · 3 days

Note

could you please do one where theo nott boasts about his hickeys from us to his mates and then we hear him and drag him upstairs and he goes all subby :)) btw love ur posts!!!

I would dieeee if you wrote about a needy Theo who is eating the reader out and he enjoys it so much he finishes without even being touched. I love when he’s subby

I combined these two asks, so I hope you guys like it!

Liar

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, oral(female receiving), shoe humping

18+ Minors DNI!

You had just entered the Slytherin common room when you heard Theo’s friend teasing him about the hickeys, but instead of getting flustered, he bragged about it.

“Yeah, I made my girl feel so good, she couldn’t contain herself. Needed to leave her mark.” Theo said with a smug smile.

That’s not what you recall, though. You recall teasing him by kissing and biting his neck until he begged to fuck you.

So you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around him sweetly. “Oh, I don’t think it went that way.”

Theo looked at you with wide eyes, surprised you were there and that you were about to call him out. “Ah, doesn’t matter.” He tried waving off your statement dismissively.

“It doesn’t? But you’re bragging about it, love. It apparently does.” You smile at him.

His friends were laughing. “Stop.” He whispered to you.

“Upstairs. Now.” You whispered back to him and he didn’t even hesitate before letting you pull him to his dorm.

You closed the door and crossed your arms. “So, you think it’s okay to lie about me now?”

“You know how the guys are.” He tried shrugging it off.

“Do I need to remind you of last night? Of how I had you begging?”

He swallowed, his eyes looking down. “I could use a reminder.”

You rolled your eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You want me to make you feel good after what you just pulled?”

“I’m sorry, cara mia.” He said, kneeling in front of you.

“Doesn’t sound sincere.” You tsked.

“Please, bella, I’m sorry, I won’t lie again.” He started rubbing at your thighs.

“If you want me to make you feel good, beg.”

“Please, please, make me feel good, principessa.”

“You can use my shoe. I’m not doing any work after what you pulled.” You said, leaning back on your hands.

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Go on. Give yourself some relief.” You tilted your head expectantly.

He looked humiliated but moved to rub himself against the toe of your shoe, whimpering at the contact.

“Needy boy, willing to get yourself off with just my shoe. If only your friends knew.” You say mockingly.

“Please let me fuck you, cara mia. I’ll do everything. Make you feel good.” He begged, a moan escaping his lips as he kept humping your shoe.

“I don’t know. Gonna make me feel so good, I can’t contain myself?” You asked, using his words against him.

“I’ll make you feel so good, please.” He said, pressing kisses to your thigh.

“You can eat me out.” You said, spreading your legs for him. “But you can’t touch yourself.”

“Deal.” He said, wasting no time in nearly tearing off your panties. He buried his face between your thighs, licking at your cunt eagerly as he wrapped his arms around your thighs.

“Fuck. That desperate, baby?” You teased, tangling a hand in his hair.

He just moaned into you.

“You’re so fucking good at this, Theo. You like pleasing me?” You asked, tugging his hair gently and he looked up at you.

“Fucking love it.” He replied quickly before going back to licking at your clit.

“Better use of your mouth than lying about me, right?” You smiled at him and he nodded, sucking at your clit.

He kept licking and sucking, desperately trying to get you off, his own moans and groans nearly overpowering yours. You came with a cry of his name and some curses, body trembling as he helped ride it out. He pulled back and pressed kisses to your thighs to help calm you.

“Fuck. You still want me to make you feel good, baby?” You asked, cupping his cheek.

“No need.” He said, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously.

“I might’ve…already…” He looked down and you followed his eyes.

“Oh.” You said once you saw the wet patch on his pants. “Just from giving me head?” You smiled.

“Yes?” He answered but in more of a question.

“I love the power I have over you.”

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Let me know if you wanna be added!

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #thedore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader smut #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader

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flemingsfreckles · 2 days

Text

Physio’s Daughter Pt 7

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the other 6 parts here!

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, angst, verbal arguments, verbal insults

WC: 5.0k

A/N: I got nothing to say, we should be on the downhill from the angst for now

“I missed that penalty because of you, it’s your fault.”

You hear her say as you walk away. Her words freeze you mid step.

Your heart sank. You had tried your best to leave her alone, you had barely spoken to her outside of the training room or on the pitch, besides the phone call where she hung up on you. You had done everything to just be a regular staff member to her. And despite your efforts you had fucked this up.

“What?” You turn back to look at Jessie.

“When I kick a penalty, I pick my spot and then when I step back I think of something that calms me. Sometimes it’s my sister, sometimes my parents, sometimes it’s the beach, it’s whatever comes into my head first.” She stands up from the table, starting to walk toward you. “Today, your stupid beautiful face came into my mind and for a second it was good. For a second, the thought of you calmed me. But then her stupid face came into my mind too and all I could picture was the two of you together, on your stupid little dates in the city, how I should be your personal photographer, not her! And I thought about the fact that you’re sharing a room and you were sleeping in her fucking bed the other day, and it pissed me off and I got rattled and fucked up my penalty.”

You realize now, that’s why Jessie had left her eyes closed longer than usual, that’s why her penalty routine was different, it was your fault.

“You mean Olivia?” You say with a small laugh, there was no way Jessie was being serious and no way she actually believed there was something going on between you and Olivia. You were also laughing out of nerves, you had never seen Jessie angry like this, her face turning red as she stood in front of you.

“Yeah her. Unless there’s other girls you’ve been prancing around the city with?” She crosses her arms across her chest, clearly annoyed with you.

“Oh you’re serious?” You look at her and she just looks back at you, her stare cold. “Jessie, Olivia and I, we’re not together.”

“That’s not what it looked like, her following you around with her camera, all the photos of you she’s posting on Instagram, looks like more than friends to me. She had you half naked in her bed, you can’t tell me your just friends.”

You can’t believe the words coming from Jessie’s mouth. “I wasn’t half naked! Get a grip Jessie, she has a boyfriend!”

You had learned that Olivia had a boyfriend when you spent the day together a few days ago. It was something that had yet to come up in your previous conversations. They’d been together just under a year, he was her first long term relationship after she had broken up with her girlfriend

You weren’t surprised someone like her was taken, but what surprised you was that it didn’t make you sad or disappointed like you thought it would. You had the realization while out with her that, while she was attractive and your type, you didn’t find yourself interested in Olivia in a romantic way.

“Well, does her boyfriend know she’s obsessed with you?”

“Oh my god, you’re being delusional.” While maybe not the best word to use, it’s what comes out of your mouth in the heat of the moment.

Jessie’s eyes squinted, her eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t you fucking call me delusional!” Her hand comes out from her chest, she points a finger at you.

“Well that’s what you’re being Jessie! She’s in a relationship, there’s nothing between us!” You had no idea how else to explain to Jessie that there was nothing there. Olivia was a friend.

“You know what, maybe I am delusional for thinking maybe we could’ve worked!” She turns back to the table, snatching the tablet still playing her kick, storming out of the conference room.

“Jessie.” You follow her out into the hallway.

“No, we can’t keep doing this, the back and forth, it’s exhausting and childish, you need to stop.” She turns back to you, taking a step closer to you so you’re between her and the wall.

“Don’t fucking tell me that I need to stop. Jessie I’m not the only one making the decision on what’s happening here.” You take a step away from her, your back making contact with the wall behind you. “You’re the one who keeps kissing me and bringing me coffee, and texting me about non-work things. You’re just as much feeding into this, you’re just as guilty as I am!”

You were fully aware a member of the hotel staff was likely to come down the hall any minute to tell you to keep it down. It was 2:49 in the morning and you two were screaming at each other.

“I know, and that’s my fault, I should’ve realized you weren’t worth my time!”

It’s like she had punched you in the gut. Your chest started to feel tight, your eyes burning. Her words hurt. You could handle her shoving you after the game, you could handle her yelling at you, you could handle her accusing you of being interested with someone else even though you weren’t, those weren’t personal attacks. But her standing here, telling you that you weren’t worth her time, burned inside your chest.

You could see the moment Jessie realized what words came out of her mouth. A wave of guilt and shock washed over her face her fingers come up to her lips. She puts her hands out, reaching toward your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean-” she starts to backtrack, trying to take back the fact that she just called you a waste of time.

“Save it.” This time it’s you shoving Jessie out of your way, your hand against her shoulder as you push past her. “I’ll go. Sorry I was a waste of your time.” You manage to choke out before you turn, tears starting to fall from your eyes.

You run back to your room, not caring how loud your footsteps were as you rushed to your room. You hear Jessie yell after you but ignore her pleas for you to come back and let her explain. You quietly open the door and slip into your bed. You choke back your tears, burying your face into the fluffy hotel pillow to not wake up Olivia.

You’re not sure how long you cried, there’s a soft knock at your door but knowing it’s Jessie you ignore it, you didn’t want to see her and you didn’t want her seeing that you were crying over her. You fall asleep a little bit later.

You’re woken from your brief attempt at sleep by a hard knocking on your door. You look over to see Olivia is already out of bed for the morning, probably down at breakfast, maybe she forgot her key and was coming back.

You quickly check your phone, a few emails, three missed calls and a few texts, five from last night and one from this morning.

Jessie Fleming: I am so sorry

Jessie Fleming: please open the door

Jessie Fleming: I shouldn’t have said that

Jessie Fleming: You’re not a waste of my time, you’re worth all my time.

Jessie Fleming: You deserve better

The one from this morning was only from a few minutes ago.

Jessie Fleming: I’d like to talk when you have a chance. I can be available whenever. I’m really sorry.

Still half asleep you wander over to the door, expecting to see an apologetic Canadian when the second round of knocks comes more aggressively. You open it, only to be pushed out of the way by a very angry Canadian, Janine.

“I told you, if you hurt her, we were going to have problems, so now we have problems.”

It takes you a second looking at the woman in front of you, her hands on her hips as she stares back at you. She was talking about Jessie. You blink a few times at her, trying to wake up your brain and body.

“Hmm late night eh?” She says, a hard cold stare still on her face, her tone is degrading.

“What the hell Janine, I didn’t hurt her!” It was the truth, maybe you called her delusional and that was too far, but you didn’t do any worse than she did to you.

“Then why did she come back to our room, crying at three in the morning? She refuses to tell me what you did, but she mentioned your name while I was trying to comfort her, so what the hell did you do?”

Learning that Jessie had also cried over your argument made you feel somewhat better about your own tears. You’re sure Janine could see your eyes were puffy and likely bloodshot.

You throw your hands up “What I did? Janine did you think that maybe she won’t tell you what happened because it was what she was the one who did something to me?”

You watch as Janine’s face drops for a second. She looks unsure if she’s supposed to believe you or not.

“I didn’t hurt her.” You take a breath, sitting back on your bed, debating if it’s even worth explaining your side. This was Jessie’s best friend, of course she won’t believe you. Deciding to tell her anyways, you quickly begin rambling, telling Janine everything.

You start to tell Janine about what happened. You tell her about the first coffee kiss, how you mom had yelled at both of you and how you made the agreement to be professional. You then go on to tell her about the second coffee kiss, the one she almost walked in on. You mention the hand holding on the plane. You then go on to explain how Jessie seemed to think you and Olivia were a thing. You mention the movie and how you were in her bed, you explain it all.

“Oh, so that’s why the coffee shop was weird between you two. I thought maybe you two had finally hooked up or something and you were trying not to be weird about it, I tried to ask Jessie about it but she wouldn’t say anything.” She cracks a small smile.

“No, we haven't slept together, or hooked up or done anything beyond just kissing, and even the kisses, they weren’t like make outs, and oh my god why am I telling you this?” You cover your face for a second, taking a breath to ease your embarrassment.

When you look back Janine has a smug look on her face, probably to your reaction to accidentally admitting the extent of your and Jessie’s physical relationship. You try to push the thought from your mind and get back to telling her the details

“Regardless, Jessie thought I had blown her off to go with Olivia but she was the one who hung up on me. I wanted to go with her, I told her I could go in the morning before I went around with Olivia. She didn’t say yes, she hung up on me.” You finish explaining the situation with Olivia to Janine.

“Then what were you two doing at two in the morning together?” She questioned, knowing you and Jessie had seen each other the night before. You explained that you couldn’t sleep so you went down to the conference room for a break and that Jessie had been there watching her penalty.

“She accused me of being the reason she missed her penalty, telling me I got in her head with me being with Olivia I guess and it upset her and rattled her focus.” You take a breath, knowing you had to admit your own faults to Janine too. “And then I, I called her delusional, which I know was wrong.” You look away from Janine not wanting to make eye contact, knowing what you said to Jessie was terrible. “And then she called me a waste of time.”

Janine just gives a slow nod, her eyes wide as she tries to process the information that is being thrown at her. “Oooookayyy then, I wasn’t expecting that..” She finally says. The room then returns to silence.

“Look, I may be Jessie’s best friend, but she doesn’t get to blame you for missing that penalty, she can’t really blame herself even though she always does, penalties are luck, you pick a spot, you kick it, if it’s the same spot the keeper picked, oh well.”

She takes a deep breath looking at you, she clasps her hands in front of her.

“But also as her best friend, I’m going to ask you, if you can, to give her some grace. I know she maybe doesn’t deserve it, especially after what she said. But, Jessie, she’s a good person, but she sometimes tried to be too perfect. She’s a perfectionist. And she has a lot of pressure on her right now, first major tournament as the official captain, she’s got the pressure of Canada, and then she’s got the pressure from herself. She’s hard on herself, too hard and she knows it, but she can’t always help it.”

You nod, you knew being around Jessie at training, when she’d struggle with a skill, she’d stay late mastering it, practicing over and over, exhausting herself to get it right. You knew this whole tournament was likely weighing on her mentally, not to add the feeling of missing her penalty.

“I’m sure the outburst at you, was not what she fully meant. She was probably upset about the penalty and she let it boil over into her personal life. Maybe she was jealous about Olivia too, but once she learned she had a boyfriend then it shouldn’t have mattered. I think she unfortunately was bottling up one too many feelings, the bottle just broke on you.”

You nod, it makes sense.

“She’ll probably kill me if she ever finds out I’m telling you to talk to her, she won’t like me meddling. But if you can, talk to her, now that she’s calmed down a bit.” Janine let’s put a sigh. “Jessie really likes you, it’s annoying to hear about but seriously she does and I want her to be happy, which you seem to make her happy, with the exception of the crying last night. I understand if her behavior was a deal breaker though, I’d just advise you to hear her out, and have her hear you out as well. You two need to have an adult conversation, not a screaming match at three in the morning. You need to talk about all of this, make up your minds about whatever you two are doing.”

“I know.” You nod at her, it was nice having someone else talk some sense into you, you hoped she gave a similar discussion to her roommate.

“Sorry I came in here on a mission to accuse you. Jessie was just incredibly upset last night, I figured something happened, I assumed you did something, sorry about that.”

You shrug at her. “It’s alright, I get it, you're her best friend, you’re just looking out for her.” It’s true you’re not upset at Janine, it was alarming for her to come in yelling, but she had been sensible.

Janine takes steps toward the door, you stand up from the bed to follow her to the door.

“I’m her best friend, but I’m not going to excuse her behavior when she was out of line.” She opens the door and walks out, you’re assuming back to her own room where Jessie likely was getting ready to head to training in the next half hour.

You pack up your backpack, dreading going to work for the first time since you joined this team, you didn’t want to have to see Jessie, you didn’t want to have to see Janine, you didn’t want to see your mom or Olivia, you’d rather be alone.

As you headed down to the lobby your phone vibrates in your pocket. You roll your eyes reading the text.

Jessie Fleming: So you're allowed to tell Janine about our argument and all the other details but I’m not allowed to tell her I kissed you?

You: She came barging into my room this morning demanding to know what I did to hurt you because you refused to say anything so yes, I told her what happened.

You: I was defending myself.

When she doesn’t text you back you slip your phone back into your jacket and take a seat at a table in the lobby.

“Hey kiddo!” Your Mom slips into the seat across from you. “You alright?”

“Yeah good, just didn’t sleep well.” You try and give her your best smile. Your Mom squints at you. You know she knows something’s up. She knew you too well, she always had.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, I’m good, I’m ready to work, I didn’t sleep well last night and it’s not something I want to talk about.” You didn’t sleep well, that was the truth. It wasn’t exactly lying by just not telling her what was keeping you awake.

“Issues with Miss 17?” She knew, she always knew. You just give her a glare across the table. “Alright, I’m not going to get involved despite my motherly instinct. I’m here if you want to talk, don’t let it affect work because you’re bottling it up.”

You think about the irony of you Mom telling you not to bottle up your feelings, the same thing that Janine had said Jessie typically did.

“I won’t, I’m good.” You say, rather harshly, before you turn in your chair to face away from your Mom.

When the players begin to file down from their rooms and out to the buses you stand up from the table, grabbing your bag. You follow your Mom, Olivia, and the rest of the staff toward the staff bus.

“I need to talk to you.” You feel a gentle hand on your arm. You recognize the voice, it's softer than it was last night when it was yelling at you. Jessie had strayed from the line of players getting on their own bus and was now standing next to you.

“No you don’t, you said what you needed to say yesterday.” You quickly say to her, not wanting to draw additional attention to the two of you.

“Please.” You hated how easily you were about to give into her. All it took was for her to look at you, wide eyed in hope that you’ll hear her out. You look at your watch, she had to be on the bus in three minutes. She notices you checking the time. “I’ll be quick.” She glances at the bus door where the rest of her teammates were waiting to board, likely watching and eavesdropping as she talked to you.

When you don’t say anything she takes it as permission to speak.

“I was terrible, you are not a waste of my time, you are not a waste of anyone’s time. That was a terrible, horrific thing to say to you or to say to anyone, no one is a waste of time.” She reached out to put a hand to your arm, you pull your arm away, giving her the hint you don’t want to touch her.

“I don’t want to be making excuses for myself, I said what I said, I regret it. There is no excuse for what I did and I understand I can’t take that back, I can’t unsay those words to you. But I’m sure you can understand I’m under a lot of pressure here, then with the missed penalty, I snapped. I’m usually good under pressure, yesterday I wasn’t and I panicked. I-” she checks over her shoulder to the bus and let’s out a huff as she sees the last of her teammates board the bus.

“You’re going to be late.” You say, not acknowledging any of the apology she just gave you.

“That’s fine, they can wait a second, I’ll be late. I need to finish.” She waves off the bus, looking back to you. This time when you make eye contact you notice her puffy eyes, a little bloodshot. As her physio you’re concerned for her lack of sleep. You can’t help but wonder if she’s noticed the same look in your own eyes.

“No, go.” You point at the bus door. You had already caused enough issues making her miss the penalty, you weren’t going to be the reason she was late.

“Can we please talk later? I didn’t get to say everything, I have a lot more to say to you.”

You nod at her. You didn’t feel like hearing her out, but you thought back to your conversation with Janine. You had already let her start apologizing, might as well let her finish. Then you two could finally have an adult conversation.

“Meet me after training, we can finish this.” You tell her, she whispers a quick thank you and turns jogging to the bed.

You attend training like normal, trying to pay attention to everyone equally but naturally your eyes constantly found their way to Jessie. You were pissed at her but you couldn’t deny she was so attractive when playing.

The way she was incredibly physical compared to her usually timid demeanor, the way she’d yell to her teammates asking for the ball, the way she’d pull down her shorts. The way she’d wipe the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt, lifting it enough to show her toned stomach made your own stomach clench.

Toward the end of training Jessie lifted her shirt again, wiping her forehead, when she pulled her shirt down, she was looking in your direction, making eye contact with you. She bit her lip with a slight smirk seeing you were watching her.

You couldn’t help but give her a small smile back. For a split second you forgot all the terrible things she said, you forgot you were mad, it was just you and her smiling at each other from across the pitch.

But then she turned back to continue her drill and you remembered your argument and her hurtful words and now you were mad at her and yourself. You shouldn’t have looked at her, you shouldn’t have smiled at her.

After training you help the girls with treatment and recovery. You make the ice bath, you hand out heating pads. You help take off the stability taping that you put on just a few hours ago. It was an easy end to your day. Jessie gets herself into the ice bath for 10 minutes before she hops out and moves to the corner of the room waiting.

“What are you waiting on Jessie? I can help you.” You hear your Mom ask, she was one of the last few players in the training room, but she wasn’t actively being treated. Just standing in the corner of the room, bike shorts still soaking wet from her ice bath, making a small puddle at her feet..

You look up from where you were cleaning water bottles to watch as Jessie points at you. Her hand close to her chest to not make the pointing obvious. Your Mom’s head turns to look at you, and then back to Jessie. She just shakes her head at the two of you and mutters something under her breath that you’re not able to understand.

You occupy yourself restocking the first aid kits, cleaning out the ice bath, all the small tasks, you offer to take over all the other physio’s end of shift jobs to get them to leave the facility sooner. Soon it’s just you, Jessie, and your Mom left in the room.

“I’m going to go, let you two have whatever discussion you need to. Do you have a plan to get back to the hotel? Both of you?” You Mom asks before she leaves the room checking that you both weren’t coming on the bus.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You let her know.

When Jessie doesn’t answer, your Mom asks again. “Fleming?”

“I’m good, thank you for checking.” She thanks your Mom with a smile and a wave.

Knowing you both were good, your Mom walks out the door, leaving just you and Jessie in the training room. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting with your legs dangling. Jessie walks over from the corner she was standing in. She places a towel down before she hops up onto the treatment table across from you. You both sit for a moment, looking at each other.

Jessie breaks the silence first. “It wasn’t fair for me to blame the penalty on you.”

“I know.” You decide this is the time to get out your frustrations with the brown haired, brown eyed, beautiful freckled girl in front of you. You couldn’t help but admire her despite being about to yell at her.

“It wasn’t fair for you to blame me for your kick, it wasn’t fair for you to shove me, it wasn’t fair to your team for you to leave the game without anyone knowing, it wasn’t fair for you to just assume I immediately went to fuck Olivia just because we’re sharing a room, sorry I wanted to have a friend! We were watching a movie, that’s why I was in her bed. She put on a movie and I fell asleep because I don’t speak French! It wasn’t fair to assume just because I was trying to be professional that I no longer was interested in you and moved on to the first girl I could find. None of that was fair to me Jessie!” As you yell your voice gets louder.

“I know.” She looks ashamed, Jessie is looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with you anymore.

“It’s not my fucking fault you thought about me during your kick, I had no control over that!” You take a second to notice the tone of your voice and decide the two of you have had one too many screaming matches recently. You lower your voice, letting your sadness from the night before overtake your anger with her. “It feels really shitty to be blamed for something you had no control over Jess.”

“I know.” Jessie repeats herself. Her voice is quiet, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, her eyes looking glossy as if she’s about to cry. “I know none of that was fair.”

“Then why did you do it?” You start to feel your own eyes water.

“Because you were there.” Her hands clap down onto her knees. “That’s it, and I know that that’s not fair to you either but I had already spent the previous five hours blaming myself, ripping myself apart for missing that kick, so when you walked in, I was able to put the blame on you and I felt like I could breathe again. I think I would’ve ripped off anyone’s head who walked in.”

“You’re saying had Janine walked in instead you would’ve screamed at her? I find that hard to believe.” You hop off the counter, walking around the room. You pick up a lacrosse ball the girls use to roll out with, tossing it between your hands.

“I don’t know, maybe. It also didn’t help that I was already having feelings thinking you were with Olivia now, I got jealous.” She turns around on the treatment table to keep watch on you. “So I think my anger with you was a little different than it would’ve been with someone else. But I probably still would’ve ended up yelling at Janine or anyone, just it would’ve been a little different words. I’m just, I’m really sorry.”

You’re not sure how to react to her apology, so instead you start your own. You’re occupying your body, bouncing the ball on the ground while you speak with her.

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have called you delusional, I shouldn’t have ever started anything with you, it’s inappropriate and unprofessional, I’m supposed to be someone you can come to for help. I’m sorry I aided in our little back and forth from flirting to coworkers to friends, I didn’t do anything to stop it and I should have.”

“We both failed at being professional, it’s not just you.”

“Yep.” You quietly say to her. It’s quiet again between the two of you. An uncomfortable silence falling over the room with the rhythmic bouncing of the ball against the ground.

You bounce the ball all the way across the room and back before you look at Jessie. “Okay so what now?”

“Nothing.” She just looks at you. Her expression blank.

“Nothing?” You stop bouncing the ball, turning to look at her.

She hops off the table and comes to stand in front of you. “I only wanted to apologize. I messed up in an awful way, I was awful to you. I’m not here to beg for you to be my friend, let alone ask for you to be anything more, I just needed to apologize. I don’t expect you to have any interest in anything happening between us anymore.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

You look at Jessie, taking in her appearance, her cheeks still rosy from playing. Her eyes are no longer puffy like they were this morning, she’s chewing on her bottom lip, her hands are fidgeting. She’s nervous.

You then realize you're nervous. You hadn’t previously been aware of how hard your heart was beating, how you could feel it through your chest. The room was warm, your skin crawling. You didn’t know what her reaction was going to be to your next question.

“What if I did still have interest in us?”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

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roseychains · 2 days

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Make him jealous ~

A/n: entirely self indulgent.

C/w: written by a minor!, porn with minimal plot, marking, nipple play, fingering, oral (r!receiving), kissing, praise, gentle, idfk.

2 weeks. That’s exactly how long it had been since your now ex had suddenly cut contact with you. A long relationship you poured your heart into for months, gone without a second though, leaving you void, unable to enjoy anything. It was like you were a shell of the fun loving person you used to be. The joy sucked out, and all that remained was a sad, confused girl who was all but betrayed by the man she loved the most.

You hardly made it through the day without tearing up atleast a little. Everything hurt. It hurt even more when your friend, shoko, has shown you photos of your ex and his new girl. Cuddling in bed, his arm around her waist it was sensual. Your frustrations came pouring out to her. It hurt that you meant so little to him, he could move on so quick, he wasn’t hurting like you were. You wanted him to care, to hurt, to be jealous.

The topic continued to your lunch break, where you met up with 2 more of your colleagues, Gojo and geto. Your frustration seemed to radiate to the rest of the group, the 3 of them vocalizing their distain for the man, that you deserve better, he deserves to hurt, it’s almost like they wanted him to suffer more than you. But in truth, you just wanted him to realize what he lost, to make him jealous.

The sexual tension was thick. Talking about how you needed someone to mark you up and post it on media, to be fucked till you forget, to feel loved again, right in front of your 3 friends, all eyeing you like hungry predators ready to devour their prey. They were so tired of seeing you sad, watching as you slowly lost motivation and will power for all the thighs you used to love. So if anyone was going to do something about it, let it be them. They will make you feel better, like friends do.

Eventually, Gojo took the initiative to finally offer up his services. “I mean, you know the three of us would be more than happy too, you just say the word it will all be yours~” you felt yourself twitch with excitement, almost like a fantasy, to be in between the most attractive people you know. It wasn’t just you, they wanted you too, maybe even more so. Anything for their dear friend.

Finally, the trio came to a plan. They were going to dress you up, take you out, feed you, and fuck you till you feel nothing but pleasure. Then hold you tight till you fall asleep together. It began Saturday morning, breakfast Gojo paid for. You ordered pancakes, that satoru ended up sneaking a few bites of. Next, you were off to the mall.

It was fun, riding the carousel, getting small snacks here and there, but the real event was when you made it over to a high end store with gorgeous dresses. The boys had ran off, but shoko kept her hand in yours guiding you through the store and picking out dresses for you to try. She even came in the changing room to help you sip them, and give you her opinion.

One thing lead to another, she found herself getting handsy with your delicate body, her hands that had previously helped you slip in and out of your clothes was now tracking down your abdomen and dangerously close to your heat, covered only by lacey panties. You gasped as she began toying with your clit through the fabric, her other hand coming up to cover your mouth. “You wouldn’t want to get caught right? Be a good girl and keep it down”, she’d whisper sensually in your ear.

Her words shot right down to your cunt, throbbing with need. She wasted no time to slip her long fingers inside the hem, now. Rubbing them along your slit, feeling your wetness. “Your so fucking wet, my fingers are drenched baby. I can tell you want this.” You felt your eyes roll back against your skull as she plunged two long fingers inside your hole, giving you only a moment to adjust before roughly curling them inside you repeatedly.

Her assault on your core had your legs weak, threatening to fall down. “Careful, baby.” As she helped you to the small chair, fingers still deep inside you. She moves her mouth to leave small love bites on your neck, proof of what the two of you had done in the dressing room. Your hands flew up to hold on her shoulders as you felt yourself reaching your high. “Are you close? Go on then. Let me feel you.”

Your legs shook as you came on her fingers, and your sounds where muffled by her hand covering your mouth. After you came down from your orgasm, dress long forgotten, you put your clothes back on and left with the dress that you and liked the most, face still red and flustered from your exchange in the dressing room. Shoko held your hand as you made your way back to the boys.

The marks on your neck where painfully present, “with out me?” Gojo whined, earning him a smack on the side from geto. “Today isn’t about you, satoru. Anyway, shall we, princess?” His gaze, now back on you offering a gentle hand as you continued your day, until yourself and the trio made your way to the club. After sitting at the bar for a minute, drink in hand you made your way to the floor with the boys, shoko content with her drink.

You were face to face with Gojo, and his hand caressed your face. “You look so beautiful tonight, you know that?” Brushing the hair of your face with his fingers. You giggled and thanked him. He grabbed your chin, and leaned down into your ear, “I can’t wait to show you just how beautiful I think you are~” you felt shivers run up your spine, ones that where only exemplified as you felt a second pair of hands meet on your hips, getos face on the other side of your face behind you.

You were sandwiched between the two large men, you felt your heart facing. There hands roamed your body as much as public decency would allow them, peppering you with gentle kisses on your jawline and collar. As the night went on, the two men could feel themselves losing restraint, shoko getting needy as well. And after a few hours, they escorted you back to the car where the three of you arrived at the closest house, gojos, and hurried inside.

As soon as all of you stepped in, Gojos lips where immediately on yours, practically moaning into your mouth. Geto pulled him off, “let’s take this upstairs. Tonight is all about you, baby.” He picked you up bridal style the other two close behind, and paced to the master bedroom, an Alaskan king easily enough for the four of you. Conferring with you one last time that this was what you wanted, their clothes were being tossed on the floor. You moved your hands to lift up your dress, but Gojo quickly grabbed your wrists. “Let us do it, you don’t have to move a muscle tonight for that?” You nodded, as geto grabbed your dress lifting it over your head, and shoko unclamped your bra, your breasts falling on your chests. You were then layed on your back, and your stocking pulled off your legs, leaving you bare in front of them.

Shoko was the first to move. She grabbed your face and kissed you passionately, tongue diving into your mouth. she then trailed kissed down your neck before reaching your tits. “Fucking gorgeous girl.” She popped one of your buds into her mouth, swirling it around while grabbing your other, fondling your chest.

Meanwhile, the boys layed down settled between your legs, your thighs on either side of their faces. With one hand, both held up your leg and started on your thighs, kissing and sucking on them before they both meet at your heat. Suguru went first, pressing a kiss too your clit before taking the bud into his mouth, “mmm s’ good” he mumbled into your cunt. Satoru took his fingers up to your hole, teasing your entrance before gently pushing in two fingers, making your back arch into shoko. “Careful, sweetie. Tell me if you need anything to change mkay?” Gojo reassured as he began pumping his fingers in and out.

Shoko continued her work on your chest, occasionally letting up to take your mouth in hers, sucking up all your moans, when she remembered your earlier words, reaching for her phone. She held it up enough to show off all the marks on your neck and collar, without getting your boobs in the shot. She snapped the photo, kissed your cheek and hit post.

Geto was making sloppy work of your cunt, eating you out like his life depends on it. His moth was ravenous, mumbling praises here and there relishing in your taste. “Could eat you like this forever, fuck.” Satoru was busy fingering you and kissing every inch of your body, his other hand rubbing gentle shapes into your thigh. “You’re so fucking pretty. We don’t deserve you.”

The combination of stimulation quickly accumulated, you tried to let out a warning before you came, shaking and arching off the bed. On nights like these, one time was enough, and you just wanted to sleep now.

“Do you want a bath? Something to drink?” Geto questioned. “No,” you murmured, “just get me some clothes and hold me till I’m asleep.” And so they did. You lay in the middle, shoko cradling you on one side, satoru the other, and geto holding onto both you and shoko.

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artificialbreezy · 1 day

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okay i was in the middle of working on a smutty Matt blurb but i saw this post and i feel like its my duty to talk about it okay? cool. here we go.

this is the era that would shotgun smoke into your mouth. i’ll take no arguments.

kinda (really just weed) NSFW under the cut ◡̈

okay now let’s get into it.

MAYBE it started out friendly, right? just a casual hang out at his house. nothing you weren’t used to at this point. you don’t really smoke, never tried it. they never judged you for it, always offered if you ever did wanna try, they’d take it so easy on you and would never rush/push you into more than what you were comfortable with. so ya know what, this is the time. you’re gonna smoke weed today! so when you get there and everyone’s outside surrounded by a fire you’re extra comfortable. it’s warm, there’s no reason to be nervous, all your friends are right there, Noah is RIGHT there. he always has your back. as the night goes on and more people are working their way inside to play some drinking games, you and Noah are left outside with a half smoked blunt and a weak fire going. you’d take a deep breath, Noah immediately catching onto your nerves. “hey, what’s wrong honey?” Noah always got a lil more affectionate when he was high. you weren’t complaining though. you’d shake your head and tell him nothing. he’d cock his eyebrow, 100% not believing what you said. so you’d just quick talk it out. “iwannasmokeweedbutimalittlenervous” and you’d take another breath and stare at the fire. all to hear his sweet chuckle, “there’s this thing that we could do, where you don’t have to take a hit off the blunt. i could take the hit, give it to you and see how you feel.” and you’re more confused now, what is talking about? how can you get high by not smoking it? he’d see the confusion on your face, “you trust me, yeah?” and you’d nod.

he’d pull you into his lap, and you’re already beet red. nervous, shy, hoping to all fucks that he can’t feel how fast your heart is beating. “open your mouth a little bit.” he’d relight the blunt, take a rather big hit, grab your jaw and pull you close. close enough that his lips were on yours and blow the smoke into your lungs. he’d pull away a little, hand still holding your jaw. “fuck it.” he’d mumble, before he pulled you back into his lips. “gotta have another taste, you understand right?” he’d say between kisses.

your kiss was interrupted when the slider opened and Jesse stood there wide eyed, immediately turning back into the house yelling, “YOU GUYS OWE ME 20 BUCKS. THEY’RE OUT HERE SUCKING FACE!!” Noah would just shake his head, rub his thumb against your cheek, press a soft kiss to your mouth. “go upstairs, i’ll meet you in my bed in 10 minutes okay? we got some things to talk about.”

#noah sebastian blurb #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian headcanons #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #bad omens blurb #bad omens moodboard #bad omens headcanons #bad omens fluff #bad omens fanfiction

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saturnville · 2 days

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skin tight, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x black best friend oc (anvika dawson) content: in which two friends cross a line people have been waiting for them to cross...and it comes with consequences. warning: angst song: skin tight by ravyn leane, steve lacy an: this is part 2 to "bite." listen as you read if you choose :). wc: 864 tags: the girlies who were hyping me up to post this @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @ggaslyp1 (I'll remove those who don't want to be tagged, please just let me know!)

The urge to relieve herself woke her up the next morning. It was still early; the sun had hardly risen over the horizon, the birds were full of energy, and the screeching tires of rushed vehicles on the highway.

Her body was sore and her mind was exhausted when her eyes opened. There was a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She felt content, satisfied even, from the intimate moments she shared with Lewis the previous evening. She could still feel his lips against hers, his hands on her body and his warmth. She loved it. Yet, there was underlying apprehension about what it meant for their relationship moving forward.

She couldn’t help but think about the first time they met at the Formula One race all those years ago. A chance encounter that started as teasing banter blossomed into something beautiful that she cherished just as much as life itself. Their friendship had been a constant source of support, understanding, and respect, but as she lay next to him, in a position she never thought she’d be in, she couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty,

Anvika groaned softly as she attempted to free herself from his grasp. Her head turned to look at him. She’d fallen asleep beside him many times before. This was different. He held her close this time, his strong arm around her waist and his hand on her breast, squeezing every so often. He looked so peaceful. His lips were slightly parted, his hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and his golden brown skin was raw with remnants of her lipstick smeared across. He was so beautiful.

As she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Lewis who was still asleep, she couldn’t help but replay the events of the night before. It was exhilarating, freeing, even, to release her inhibitions and give in to the desires that had stirred within her. But now, in the quiet of the morning, reality sunk in.

She had (sort of) slept with the man she called her closest friend. She knew some consequences came with that. Anvika knew they would need to have a conversation about what had happened, but she was unsure of how it would go. Setting boundaries (if they were still present), clarifying their feelings, and ensuring the solidarity of their friendship needed to be addressed. But, as anxiety crashed over her like a tidal wave, she decided to let him sleep and let herself bask in the memory of the previous night.

As Anvika finished in the bathroom, She couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingered in the back of her mind. She hoped their bond was strong enough to withstand what came next, but, as anxiety crashed over her like a tidal wave, she decided to let him sleep and let herself bask in the memory of the previous night.

When she returned to the bed, she saw Lewis on his back, arm thrown over his face to block the smiling sun that danced outside the window. His strong chest was on full display and she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering. She shook her head and made her way to the bed.

Lewis lowered his arm and turned toward her. His gaze was intense as he beckoned her near. Anvika slid into the bed next to him, tucking herself under his arm. “Good morning.” His voice was low and full of sleep.

“Morning,” she replied. “Sleep well?”

Lewis hummedther of them said anything after that. The hustle and bustle of the city was enough. As Anvika lay on his chest being caressed by his warm hands, her mind began to wander again. What would come of their relationship?

She took in a sharp breath, one that Lewis recognized. So, he spoke before she could, “Later. Just…let me have this moment, okay?” His throat constricted with each word he said. Her stomach churned. He sounded so desperate as if he knew where her mind was going. He needed something to hold onto just in case it was pulled away from him in an instant. The least she could do was give him that…right?

Anvika nodded against his chest, “Okay.”

“Lew, it was the heat of the moment. It can’t happen again.”

That didn’t go over well with him. He was used to flings and one-night stands but she made him feel rejected in more ways than one. Nothing more than someone that she used to let her inhibitions go. His mind was racing. Questions, thoughts, and feelings clouded his mind and he struggled to articulate what he wanted to say.

Her hesitancy was warranted, but Anvika was so opposed to even considering what life would be like as partners that it felt like a slap in the face.

“That’s not true and you know it,” Lewis said after some time, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t try to downplay what happened between us.”

Anvika shook her head and tightened her robe. “I’m not downplaying anything. I’m just saying, we’ve been friends for too long to let something like this change our friendship. I care for you too much.”

The racer scoffed. His head dropped to his hands and he inhaled deeply. He tried to make sense of her logic, but nothing added up. Anvika was a firm believer that good friendships were solid foundations for relationships, yet she wasn’t willing to take the chance with him, the man who knew her like the back of his hand. She told him she loved him, and it was not how she usually did. It was so full of adoration and love. Of course, she thought he was asleep when she said it, and truth be told, he was almost there. But, her sentiment caused his senses to alert and suddenly he felt alive. If all that was true, what was holding her back? Was the possibility of being with him that bad?

“What are you scared of, Anvika?” he asked after some time. She visibly winced at his calling of her full name. That wasn’t common between them. He was her Lew, and she was his Ani. The shift had already begun and it was sickening to her stomach.

She looked taken aback. Her lips parted but nothing came out. She had an answer, she just had no clue how to articulate it. How would she tell him that she was afraid of getting hurt again, that she was angry with herself for teetering the lines of her boundaries, that she was unsure if she was worthy of being the woman on his arm? And most of all, she was scared that if it didn’t work between them she’d lose him forever. Her friend. He meant the most to her.

“I just,” she paused. “It’s risky. And everything would be different.” She didn’t say much after that. Lewis didn’t press her, either. With one nod, he stood to his feet. Her eyes followed him. He gathered his belongings and shoved his hands in his pocket. He made his way toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

The conversation was tense. They were talking in circles and he couldn’t stand it. It was filled with unspoken fears and uncertainties. Lewis’s frustration was palpable as he struggled to understand her hesitancy, and Anvika struggled to grapple with her insecurities and her fear of losing him. A cat-and-mouse game that had grown exhausting.

Lewis didn’t meet her eyes. They reached an impasse as their words fell short and there seemed to be nothing else to say. The divide between them seemed to get wider with each passing minute. With a heavy heart, he said, “I’ll see you around, Ani.”

Anvika watched him go and a sense of loss washed over her. The door closed softly behind him. And just like that, she was alone.

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