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tender-rosiey · 2 days

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hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

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erwinsvow · 2 days

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random but i can see rafe giving shy!reader like a large amount of “pocket money” and she’ll always wait until she’s fully broke and runs out (if she doesn’t have a job), she’d be so nervous to ask him for more.

at first you're so shy around rafe you can't even find it in you to question what the money is for—you just assume it's some sort of test. you keep the cash in your pretty pink wallet until it's so full it won't fit in your purse.

rafe has no reason to be giving you money—you've got your own, your parents', that is. and suddenly you start to question everything, start overthinking like normal. does rafe think you're reliant on him for money? if so, is he mad at you because of it?

one day when he comes over to your place for once, claiming he wanted to get away from his noisy house to the serenity and peace of your bedroom, you dig out the wallet from under your bed and drop it next to him. he's laying on the mattress, sprawled out playing chess with a robot. the wallet lands with a thud.

like always, you let him speak first.

"what the hell's this?" he asks, lifting the thoroughly packed leather.

"i'm giving it back," you state, trying to remain a little firm. it's so hard around him though.

"jesus, kid," he comments, flicking through the cash. "did y'spend any of it? huh?"

"n-no," you stammer, suddenly nervous. "i kept it safe for you, like you wanted." you look at him with big, confused eyes and he looks back at you in disbelief.

"s'not for that, baby. it's for spending. for nice things, y'know, all the crap you like."

"crap?" you question back.

"stuff. books and records and ice cream when m'not around. y'know, pocket money."

"but i already have that," you reply. "did you think i didn't? did i ask for it?" suddenly confused, you wonder how you gave rafe this implication. "sorry, rafe."

"why are you apologizin'?" you perch yourself next to him.

"i guess because i didn't spend it.."

"well, stop. just use it for somethin' nice. for yourself, not me." he clarifies because he knows you—knows you'll go find him a new polo or golf glove if he didn't tell you otherwise.

and the way he says it—you comply, pressing a kiss to his cheek, mind floating to all the ways you could use it—a new beach read, a new bikini for boat days, ice cream nights with wheezie and a big tip for the nice girls who worked at the parlor.

you were used to spending your dad's money, now you were spending daddy's money. it wasn't that big of a change after all.

and it's really not.. until you run out.

you never had to ask your parents twice for anything, but rafe gives you cash and you don't question why, but now that you're used to getting things from rafe's money, you don't want to revert back. in all honestly, it felt nice when someone asked you where you got something from and you could tell them your favorite words.

"my boyfriend got it for me!"

credit cards are unlimited, but cash runs out. and asking rafe for more seems like the absolute worst thing in the world, especially when you were so hesitant to even start using it.

approaching the door to rafe's bedroom, you pace infront of it for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. ward walks by and smiles at you, though he's confused at what you're doing. panicked, you run in, standing in front of your boyfriend while he's looking at something on his desk. rafe glances up when you walk in.

"hey, kid."

"hi." it even comes out nervous. rafe shuts his laptop at the sound of your voice.

"what is it?" he asks, and you blink back in response.

"what's.. what?"

"y'think i can't tell when you're off? c'mon, start talkin'." you give in immediately.

"well... it's just, um, this cash. your cash. i ran out. and, um, this book i wanted releases out tomorrow. and i told wheezie i'd take her to the movies because that book we both like is a movie now, and it comes out this weekend, and y'know she's a child so-"

"yeah. m'aware."

"sorry," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. "sorry." he gets up from the desk, and you wonder if you really messed up by demanding so much.

"what'd i tell ya? stop apologizin'." when he gets close, rafe does what he always does, lifting your chin up so you're looking at him, his fingers resting on your jaw. "what'd you think? i'm gonna say no to you?"

"maybe. i'm being kinda greedy."

"nah, kid. be as greedy as you want." when you smile, he laughs at you, at how nervous you still get, how worried you are that you're doing something wrong. "besides, i got some ideas on how y'can make it up to me."

sounds like a win-win for you.

#this was so fucking cutie pie #i love them #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 days

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James Potter x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

Genre: Angsty Fluff (happy ending)

Warnings: intense swearing, violence, being drugged/spiking someone's drink, mentions of blood, vomiting, crying, a suggestive joke, James kinda has light trauma

~ again—to the kind anon that had this idea—thank you! ~

Everyone knew it was you and James. It has always been you and James. Ever since the third term of your second year when he'd stolen you an absurd amount of chocolates and candies from Honeydukes because you had failed an exam and were sobbing in your dorm, you knew he had you hooked around his pinky. Luckily, you had him wrapped around yours just as well.

He was yours as you were his.

It didn't worry you that you hadn't seen your boyfriend all day because N.E.W.T's were coming up and as much as he pretends not to study or care, you've never met someone more desperate for success.

James had even left you a little note signed "only yours" telling you he'd be in the library today, so you used this time to spent the day with the girls instead.

However, you didn't expect to see what you did when you walked into the Great Hall that evening.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter look just as dumbfounded as you when James stands from his usual seat, his arms outstretching towards another girl.

Your smile falters and you freeze up, your stomach sinking as his hands find the girl's waist and he spins her around.

"What the fuck?" Marlene mutters from next to you, her arms crossed.

"Who is that?" Mary asks, unhooking her arm from Lily's as she sympathetically touches your shoulder. You blink, unable to look away from whatever nightmare is happening.

James would never cheat on you—especially in public like this.

Never.

"Amerie something, she's in my Potions class," Marlene whispers but her gaze is hard.

James's grin is wide and the girl—Amerie apparently—holds him closer. She's beaming as her manicured hands finds his cheeks and your entire world shatters when she presses her lips to his. James leans into her kiss, one hand at her waist while the other runs in her dark curls.

Marlene breaks at the same time as Sirius does and they march up to the couple. You're stunned, your eyes watering as you replay how your beloved boyfriend kissed another girl in front of everyone. Including you.

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lily takes your hand and guides you towards where everyone had gathered. Marlene is being held back by Mary, but she's furious as she screams at James and Amerie. Sirius stands next to James, his arms crossed as he stares at his best friend.

When his gaze flickers to you all calm crumbles. "James," Sirius says, interrupting Marlene's shrieks, as he sounds unusually serious, "This is wrong. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

James has never looked this confused in his life. "What are you talking about, Pads?" he asks innocently, his eyes scanning all his friends and their upset expressions.

They skim over you as if you were nothing to him— as if he hadn't held you close to his heart just yesterday and whispered how much he loved you into your hair.

Amerie leans into James, her hand on his chest, and even Remus scoffs.

"You can't be serious, James?" Remus says. He stands and puts his hand on your other shoulder as Lily holds your other arm. He stands tall and looks stern, clearly unamused by whatever sick joke he thinks his best friend is playing.

James's eyes widen but even Peter squeaks, "You have a girlfriend," as if to remind James.

"I know!!" James exclaims and turns to Amerie as he smiles like a love-sick fool. You feel like you're going to vomit all over your uniform. "Aren't I allowed to kiss my lovely girlfriend?"

Chaos ensues as Amerie holds James closer, her icy-blue eyes staring into yours with venom and malice as Marlene lunges for the two of them.

Marlene is pulled away by Mary and Lily and Sirius and Remus speak up with confusion as they jumble out accusations and disbelief.

You stand there, frozen, as your boyfriend looks right through you.

"She is your girlfriend, you dimwit!" Lily shouts and points to you. "Not this minger," Marlene adds with a hiss at Amerie, eyes dark.

James finally looks at you and your breath hitches when you see the look in his eyes. There is no remorse or shame, just a blank expression as he looks you over.

"Who?" he asks as he turns to his friends with a genuine look of confusion on his face. His question brings silence to the group and you feel warm tears brim in your eyes.

Some part of you screams at you that the confusion is real. You know James and you know how he lies. But his voice rings in your ears as pain caves in your chest and you turn, breaking into an embarrassing jog as you run away.

James would never cheat on you—right?

Lies.

* * *

A few hours later, when Lily comes into the dorm with news that James is in the Hospital Wing, you don't want to care but you do. Just the mention of James in pain hurts you and Lily doesn't even have to convince you to come see him.

You walk into the room and your eyes instantly widen. Dumbledore and Amerie stand in one corner. Amerie's eyes are bloodshot and she's pleading with Dumbledore—who looks absolutely furious.

Lily pulls you to the main dilemma and you see James sitting up in a bed, a bowl in his lap as he's encouraged to vomit. He's surrounded by Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Madame Pomfrey.

Remus sees you and Lily and he walks up to you.

"Is he okay?" you ask, your voice small and hoarse from your crying.

"Love potion," Remus doesn't waste time as he glances at Amerie in the corner, his jaw clenched, "she slipped it in his drink when we went to lunch. I lost him this afternoon after that but I thought he'd gone to find you. It's strong, well made, but Madame Pomfrey is convinced she can reverse the spell it has on him."

You let out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing as you take in his words. A love potion? It had all been fake.

You turn to look at Amerie and anger swims through you. She'd drugged your boyfriend and taken him from you. You clench your fist.

If she wasn't with Dumbledore, you'd punch her.

"But Y/n," Remus interrupts your violent fantasies and Lily takes your hand. Lily clearly knows the news Remus is about to break and it doesn't sound good. "The reason he didn't remember you is that the potions—well he was already in love with you so the potion messed up that chemistry and it was so strong it reversed all those emotions to Amerie. Erased any memory of you completely."

You feel like you can't breathe.

"Madame Pomfrey doesn't think she can fully reverse his memory loss," Lily whispers and tightens her grip on your hand, "Obviously, he won't be in love with Amerie anymore but—we don't think he'll remember you either."

You can barely hear her. Your eyes water as your eyes glaze over and you look behind Remus at James. Your James, who is puking his guts out and who doesn't have a clue who you are. He has no more memories of you. No more midnight secrets or scandalous touches. No more sweet confessions or fleeting arguments. Nothing.

And it's all her fault.

You storm up to Amerie, ignoring the Headmaster's presence, as you see red. You grab her by the shoulder and punch her in the nose.

The sound resounds around the room as she falls back, a broken cry leaving her mouth as she holds her nose. Blood runs down her mouth and chin, her tears mixing with the crimson liquid as nurses rush to her.

Your voice is unemotional when you snarl, "Stay away from him, you psycho cunt."

* * *

You sit in the common room, bandaging your bruised knuckles, as you let your tears fall freely. Your heart feels broken and crushed into absolutely nothing.

You don't even care about the detention Dumbledore was basically forced to assign you. "Violence, no matter how deserved, is never the answer," he had said and perhaps he had a point because breaking Amerie's nose didn't really make you feel any better.

She'd still taken your heart away from you.

All you want is to reverse time and prevent James from leaving so early in the morning and slipping through your fingers. You hate yourself for not finding him in the library that afternoon. You should have studied with him—maybe then you could have prevented this.

You unclench your fist and stare at James's crumbled note from a few hours earlier.

Early morning for Quidditch then I'll be in the library studying. You can always join me, lovie, or go to Hogsmeade with the girls, I know they miss you. I can't always be selfish and have you all to myself, can I?

I love you, my darling.

Only yours,

You choke on another sob and you resist the need to scream.

"Hi," a familiar voice suddenly whispers from above you and you look up. Color has returned to James's cheeks and he's standing in front of you. He's so familiar and so different.

He doesn't look at you the same and you want to cry harder. He looks down at the note in your hand and holds out his hand when he sees a glimpse of his own chicken scratch.

You hand it to him without a word, leaning back on the couch as you wipe your tears with your palms. You shut your eyes, feeling the cushions dip as James sits next to you and you can feel the tension in the air. You peek at him as he shakes the note and says, "So, this is real, hm? It's not some messed up nightmare? I- I don't even remember writing this. I remember this morning but—you aren't in the memory," his voice sounds shaky.

"It's okay," you whisper, unable to say much more or you'll cry.

James turns to you and shakes his head. "No. It isn't okay. I want to remember you," he whispers and takes your hand.

Your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sudden warmth of his touch. James puts the paper in your palm and closes it, squeezing your hand, "I obviously loved you a lot, and I think you loved me too—"

"Love," you whisper, looking him in the eyes, "I haven't stopped."

James makes a pained grimace and his hand loosens around yours. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could remember. I wish this never happened. I know I don't know you anymore or well, my brain doesn't know you but I still can't stand you being hurt because of this," he sighs, "Sirius told me everything. I have so many pictures of us in my room—my sheets smell like your perfume—I– I wish I could remember," he sounds so lost and your heart breaks.

You can't help yourself. You cup his cheek and lean your forehead onto his like you'd a thousand times over the last years. James doesn't pull away. Instead he leans into you, as if your touch sparked a distant muscle memory.

"It's okay. It's not your fault. I-" you pause and then say, "I can help you remember, if you want?"

James doesn't hesitate and he nods, his breath unsteady, "I do. I don't understand why but my heart, well it misses you. I want to understand why."

Your heart flutters at his words and you smile. You pull away and smile at him. His smile is weak and you know him all too well to let that slide. "What's wrong, James?" you ask and when his eyes shift, you can tell he's feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry you lost your boyfriend. You didn't deserve that."

You sigh, "It's not your fault, okay?" you look him in the eyes and wait until he nods solemnly. "If we're meant to be, we'll figure this out, yeah?"

"Yeah," James whispers in agreement.

* * * Six Months Later * * *

The snow falls around you as you and your friend return from The Three Broomsticks one Sunday evening. Sirius and Remus walk much faster than you and James as Sirius rambles wildly about this new muggle band Remus helped him discover, and Peter loiters behind you all as he hurries to finish reading his Transfiguration book due Monday morning—he seems quite discouraged considering the snow keeps ruining his pages.

You are snuggled up against James, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he adjusts your scarf and presses a kiss to your head. You sigh, continuing your conversation about how very clearly chocolate is the superior ice cream flavor, and James just listens even though he has no clue why you're talking about ice cream in the dead of winter.

Suddenly, your voice dies down and you tense when you see who's walking towards you. She's with three of her best friends—snotty Ravenclaws with egos larger than their brains—and you feel sick as all those horrible feelings come bubbling up again.

Amerie had been suspended for six months after what she had done to James and while you and your friends insisted she be expelled, your outburst of violence had inevitably lightened her sentence.

Dumbledore didn't want a scandal on his hands and Amerie's parents were well off—surprisingly more so than the Potters.

James senses your tension and he looks up too, his stomach sinking. Amerie is staring at you both and her friends are whispering. You look between her and James, sensing how uncomfortable he is with her presence and anger boils inside you.

Six months. Six months of peace and time you had to rebuild your relationship with him. Six months you spent taking him to all your favorite places, reminding him of all those secrets he had already earned, and telling him stories he should remember.

Six months to catch up on six years, all because of her.

You feel James's gloved hand find yours and he squeezes it, pressing his lips into your hair near your ear and he murmurs, "Ignore her, my love." His voice sounds a little strained and you look at him, the warmth of his hazel eyes calming you.

You nod and press a kiss to his lips. You can feel Amerie's eyes on you as you pass but you just walk faster. Once she and her friends are behind you, you squeeze James's hand too. "Are you okay?" you whisper.

James had been very open with you about how much what had happened scared him and still does. There were times he remembered snippets of you from before, but mostly nothing, and that scares him. I never want to lose you again, he had said three months into the six and you knew he meant it.

When James Potter loved, he loved hard, and it became very obvious his feelings for you had returned even stronger than they had been.

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice small.

You pause, turning around and taking his cheeks in your hands, encouraging him to look at you. "Baby, it's okay if it made you feel uncomfortable to see her. It's normal," you say, kissing his forehead and leaning against it.

James holds you close and kisses the crook of your neck, which causes you to giggle.

"I love you," he mumbles and you grin.

"I love you," you say and kiss his lips again.

James runs a hand in your hair and sighs, lifting his head and watching Amerie and her friends disappear down the road. "As much as I hate her for what she did, I am sort of grateful," he whispers.

"Oh?" I ask, caressing his cheek lovingly.

"Mmhm—it was an absolute pleasure falling in love with you all over again," James says sincerely and your heart flutters at his words.

You laugh and ruffle his messy hair. "You're such a dork," you chuckle.

James laughs now too, "It's true!"

Suddenly, you shriek lightly when you feel cold snow glide down your neck from inside your scarf. You and James spin around at the same time, catching Sirius as he makes another snowball and barks out a laugh, "Ooops."

Sirius smirks and as if on cue, James bends over and pats down his own snowball to throw at Sirius in your defense.

"Keep your grubby snowballs away from my girl, Pads," James shouts in between his laughter as he runs after his best friend. You hear Sirius mumble something that sounds like, "Ooh, kinky," before James shoves snow into his mouth.

You just smile, your heart feeling completely full.

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blueywrites · 2 days

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baby can we smoke?

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.

2.8k

cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.

Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think.

enjoy xx

Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.

He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.

Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so… innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him.

“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”

You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”

Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.

It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.

“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.”

Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke.

And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.

“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.

“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”

You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers.

“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth.

“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—

Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore.

Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?”

Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”

You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.

“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.

“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”

“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell.

For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.

The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.

“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.

“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”

Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.

Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.

He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that.

The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs.

"Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.”

If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me."

You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."

“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief.

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days

Text

Firsts V

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first steps

There's something about your little family that makes Magda feel soft.

She isn't soft. Not really.

She's one of the best defenders in the world. She's intimidating and scary and people falter when she glared at them.

But here, in Germany, she isn't any of those things.

In Germany, she's lying on the sofa with Pernille on top of her, trading soft kisses while something random plays on the tv. You're sitting in front of them, banging some blocks together aimlessly.

You babble some half-words and Magda knows that you're very close to forming your first words soon. You grunt a little bit before deciding to taste your blocks.

Magda laughs. "Does that wood taste nice?" She teases and you turn to look at her.

You grunt at her again, before throwing your block over to where your girl-swan and girl-moose are sat further away.

"Oh!" Magda says," Did it not taste nice then?"

You hum, shuffling across the floor to where your stuffed animals await you.

Magda winces. "Does she have to do that?"

You shuffle more furiously on your bum to your other toys.

"She's happy," Pernille laughs.

"But..." Magda watches as you smash your moose and swan together. "She can crawl..."

"And she wants to bum shuffle," Pernille replies," She can crawl and she can bum shuffle. She tends to crawl more at training."

Magda pouts, something truly pathetic for such an intimidating Chelsea player to have on her face. "I want to see her crawl too."

She doesn't get to see you crawl often. When she comes over to Germany, you like to be carried and when you're put down, all you seem to do is bum shuffle your away around the apartment.

You giggle from across the room as you smash your toys together again.

"She's being violent, Pernille," Magda says.

"She's making them kiss," Pernille replies, glancing over at you.

"Really?"

"Yes," Pernille assures her with a little laugh," Princesse!"

You turn to look at her, halting your playing.

"Can you show me how your toys kiss?"

Your head bobs up and down and you smash your toys together again.

"Good job, princesse!" She says before grinning at Magda. "See, she's just aggressively affectionate."

"Aggressively affectionate?" Magda laughs," Is that we're calling it?"

"I think it's sweet."

Magda rolls her eyes, dipping her head down to press her lips against Pernille's. Pernille kisses back until suddenly they're trading lazy pecks back and forth as they cuddle together.

You turn your head to look at them both.

Whenever Morsa comes to visit, she's very cuddly with you and Momma. Today is no different.

She flew in last night when you were already asleep so today is a calm day at home. That's what usually happens.

The day after Morsa flies in, there's a chill day where you do nothing but stay at home and then the day after, you will all go out and do something together.

Most of the time it's the park and Morsa will push you on the swings and help you feed the ducks.

But that's for tomorrow.

Today is for kisses and snuggles.

Momma and Morsa have gotten started without you. That was okay at first when you were still playing with your toys but you're done now and want to be included.

You whine a little but neither notice you.

With Morsa home, you don't really need to use your legs because she likes to carry you everywhere.

You raise your arms for uppies but no one comes for you.

You huff.

You don't want to have to shuffle over because it makes a silly noise and you would prefer to be picked up.

It's a little annoying and you force yourself to your feet.

You've stood before at training, holding Caro's hands even as she glanced around the room in horror at being responsible for you.

So, you've had practice at standing so you stand now.

Momma and Morsa are still taking up all your kisses.

You want kisses too.

One foot comes down in front of the other until you're standing in front of them both.

Somewhere along the way, they've stopped kissing to watch but you're just very happy to get your own cuddles and kisses to really care.

"Did she just...?"

"Yeah." Magda's face splits into a grin. "Look at you, princesse!" She grabs you, fluidly pulling you into her arms. "Walking already!"

Kisses are littered over your face and you giggle, kicking out your little legs in happiness.

Pernille stays frozen for a while before she's taking you from Magda's arms and placing you back down further away.

You frown.

You're pretty sure you've already earnt your kisses.

"Come on," Pernille says to you, a camera in one hand," Do it again. Do it again, princesse!"

You place one shaky leg in front of the other as you toddle right back into her arms.

"Look at you," She coos," Such a big girl."

"I think this calls for cake," Magda says and you perk up.

You know that word.

"You want cake?"

Your head bobs up and down.

"Let's get cake."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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aligned-starz · 2 days

Text

Crying in the Courtyard - Theodore Nott

⋆｡°✩Pairing : theodore nott x fem!reader

Warnings : fluff/light angst, happy ending, use of y/n

Summary : reader finds something out about her crush.

Song : Crying In the Chapel - Elvis Presley⋆｡°✩

"So, did you find out? Is he seeing someone?" You gushed in a hushed tone, fisting your Slytherin friend's robes in your hand as you pulled her in, anxious to hear what she has to say.

"Y/n! Calm down, you're going to rip off my bloody buttons. But yes, I did hear something from Blaise." Pansy Parkinson, a friend you hadn't expected to make, replied with a sigh, her expression mirroring your own anxiety. You held your breath, waiting for her next words, knowing deep down that your suspicions were about to be confirmed.

"Y/n..." She trails off, looking for words to explain the news. You met her eyes, a small realization dawning that your suspicions had been correct.

"I'm sorry. There was talk in the air that Theodore had been seeing someone, and Blaise confirmed it for me," Pansy started, her voice tinged with sympathy as she glanced away, almost as if she was shielding her eyes from your reaction. "Says that he's crushing on a girl, and we believe it to be Daphne."

Your heart sank as her words registered, but another thought flashed in your mind. Blaise, with his charming smile and smooth demeanor, had always seemed to have an affinity for Daphne. You couldn't help but wonder if his confirmation of Theodore's crush was influenced by his own feelings for her.

"Greengrass? Doesn't Blaise like Daphne Greengrass?"

Your curiosity sparked, and a deep longing for an answer, an answer that may prove that there's still a chance that Nott could be yours.

"Yes, he does. And Daphne likes another Slytherin boy, like Theo. The two have been teased before, but they had previously mentioned that they're just friends. Maybe something had developed? Theodore also mentioned that the girl he liked may have liked him as well, and Blaise saw them laughing together after class. So, if we connect the information together.."

Your heart felt as though as it had been hollowed out as Pansy dropped the bombshell. Theodore Nott, the enigma that had captured your thoughts and dreams, was supposedly entangled in a relationship. You leaned against the hall wall, the cold stone offering little solace as you tried to process the news, mind full with a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.

"I'm truly sorry, Y/n," Pansy's voice softened, her usually sharp features softening with genuine sympathy. "I was really rooting for the two of you to become a thing."

Her eyes, normally filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of sadness as she spoke, as if she shared in your disappointment. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Pansy, one that made you realize just how much she valued your friendship.

As Pansy's voice faded into the background, you found yourself lost in a sea of memories, each one a painful reminder of what could have been. You remembered the stolen glances and whispered conversations, the moments shared between the two of you that had ignited a spark of something more, moments where you couldn't take your eyes off one another.

Maybe it was all in your head? It was only you who felt that way. No, he had felt that way for a different girl, not just any girl, Daphne Greengrass. You could never compare, oh how foolish you felt.

"Y/n, are you alright?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back from your thoughts. You looked up at her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Yes, I'm ok. I expected this, so.." Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, anger at yourself for falling so stupidly.

Before Pansy could see you break down, you decided to leave. You feel so stupid for feeling like this, and you couldn't have someone else see you like this.

"I've got class so um, thank you Pansy." You stammered and started to walk away from the girl, leaving her confused and concerned.

As the day wore on, Y/n found herself struggling to maintain her composure. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the most inconvenient moments, like droplets of rain in a storm. In Potions class, she buried her face in her textbook, pretending to study as she blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. Tears all caused by the boy who sat at the back of the class, who she refused to even spare a glance at now. But the ache in her chest only intensified with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of the pain she could not escape.

So she stood up abruptly in class, her sudden movement capturing Snape's attention like a disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.

"Do you need a moment, Ms. L/n?" his voice was cold and clipped, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized her.

Y/n met his gaze, her eyes watery but determined. She nodded silently, not daring to speak as she fought to control the storm of emotions raging within her. Snape's expression remained impassive, a faint hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he waited for her response.

"Take all the time you need," he said curtly, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to his lesson.

"Thank you, professor." With a heavy heart, Y/N nodded once more, her resolve hardening in the face of his indifference. With one last glance at her teacher, she turned on her heel and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease in her wake.

Theodore Nott, who had been witnessing the whole situation, was confused beyond belief. She was alright this breakfast, she had been chattering and smiling beautifully as usual with her friends. What made her so distressed? So distressed to the point she wouldn't even spare a glance in his way?

The boy raised his hand, ignoring the looks from his friends, and excused himself from class. Though Snape's questioning gaze unsettled him, he was free to go. And the moment that Snape had nodded, the boy was off running after the girl of his dreams.

Finally, she reached the courtyard, her sanctuary amidst the chaos of her emotions. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she allowed herself to surrender to her grief. Each soft sob echoed off the walls, a symphony of heartache that seemed to consume her entirely.

Lost in her misery, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. She hastily wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself as she heard someone round the corner.

"Y/n?"

She froze, all the blood draining from her face at the recognition of his voice.

From all the people that could have seen her at a state like this, why did it have to be him? She felt a weight of dread as his presence lingered from behind her.

She slowly turned around, looking at Theo through her red puffed-up eyes. His eyes softened and he kneeled down to sit beside her, his expression filled with concern and something else, something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Tesoro? Are you alright?" His voice was gentle, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

Forcing a smile, she nodded weakly, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm fine, Theodore. Just... just a bit tired. It's been a bad day."

But he wasn't fooled by her facade. Stepping closer, he tilted his head at the sight of how broken-hearted you looked, and in his own chest, he felt a pang of pain. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/n. I can see that something's wrong."

The vulnerability in his eyes shattered the last of her resolve, and she broke down before him, the truth tumbling from her lips in a rush of emotion. "The boy I like... he doesn't like me back," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet Theodore's gaze.

The pang in Theodore's heart deepened, now with a mix of jealousy and seething anger. Who would make such a warm and bella ragazza, cry like this?

"Well, that's his loss," Theodore said, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of something deeper. "Because if it were up to me, I'd never let someone as incredible as you slip through my fingers."

Y/N's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat at his words. "Theodore..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Y/N couldn't help but glance at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Nott leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered, "Of course. Anyone who can't see how incredible you are doesn't deserve you."

He pulled away to look into her eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe away the stubborn tear that fell from her eye.

"Do you remember that time when I was feeling so lost and alone?" he began, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her cheek. "I tried to push you away, but you refused to leave my side. You stayed with me, even when I didn't deserve it. You're such a kind and loving soul, your soul made mine feel love again like it had never felt before."

Before she could dwell on the thought, He continued as he cupped her face with his hand, his tone growing more teasing with each word. "And besides, if this boy doesn't appreciate you, then he's clearly not worth your time," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his stormy eyes. "I mean, he must be pretty stupid to let someone like you cry tears of heartbreak. Che idiota è quel ragazzo."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his playful jab, the tension between them easing as she felt the weight of Theodore's words lift from her shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and the teasing sparkle in his eyes, she dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he had loved her back.

"There it is, that beautiful smile," Theo remarked, his heart swelling at the sight of her radiant expression. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he watched the way her cheeks popped out when she laughed, prompting him to playfully pinch one with his hand as he joined in her laughter.

But as the symphony of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Theodore found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. His eyes wandered down to her lips, drawn like a magnet to their soft curve, and he felt a familiar warmth spreading through him, igniting a longing he couldn't ignore.

In that lingering moment of silent connection, Theodore's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching as he felt an irresistible pull towards her. Without a second thought, he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the world fell away around them, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. In that stolen moment, all doubts and fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion as Theodore finally dared to seize the opportunity he had longed for.

And as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, Theodore knew with absolute certainty that he had found where he belonged – in the embrace of the one who had captured his heart from the very beginning.

"Wait wait!" Y/n mumbled against his lips, pulling away with a concerned look upon her face. He looked up at her in regret, a fear that the kiss didn't feel the same for her made him gulp.

"What about Daphne?"

The regret on his face morphed into confusion.

"What about.. Daphne?" He repeated.

"Yeah, aren't you guys like a thing?" She hesitated, searching for answers in his eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows and wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.

"What? Daphne likes Blaise."

"Daphne likes Blaise." She repeated, a small smile forming upon her face at the realization.

"Wait, how about you? Who's the boy you said that didn't like you back?"

Y/n laughed out at the realization, ignoring Theo's confused face which made her laugh even more. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the feeling of relief, the joy she felt making her heart beat quickly.

"You! Nott, you were the boy who didn't like me back! Blaise told Pansy that you and Daphne were a thing!" She watched his face for a reaction, and at first he was still confused, but as he realized, his mouth was agape as he said "Ah."

The two soon shared their laughter again, Theo apologizing for the tears he had accidentally made her cry, "All along I was the fool who made you cry," he admitted, his tone soft yet tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, il mio tesoro, if only I had known. How can I make it up to you?"

A playful smirk danced on his lips as he pulled her in closer, his gaze drifting down to her grinning lips.

"I don't know if you can ever make it up to me, Nott. You hurt me pretty bad." She playfully said, wiping away her already dried tears. "Well actually maybe, you can start by kissing me again, you fool."

With a chuckle, Theodore leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, knowing in that moment that he had finally found where he belonged – in the arms of the one who had stood by him through tears and laughter, through every trial and triumph.

⋆｡°✩

Hi! This is my first ever upload on tumblr, so it may not be perfect but hey who cares I got inspired by a personal experience! If you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! xx

#theo nott #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #fanfiction #fluff #light angst #theodore nott oneshot #theo nott x y/n #slytherin #harry potter #oneshot

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 days

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Post!prision!Reid seeing his daughter for the first time after he gets out 🥹 he gets so emotional because he can finally hold his baby again!

OMG OMG OMG!!!! can you imagine how teary he'd be!! post!prison dad!spencer x mom!reader, I hope you enjoy <3

You wish you could’ve been with the team at the prison, see him come out there in person, but you’re still on bedrest with your baby girl. Georgia is only a couple weeks old, but she’s so much Spencer’s twin- the same unruly curls, the same nose and the same want of you.

You’d written all about her in your letters to Spencer, describing every feature he’s going to see today in so much detail you were sure he would see her clearly in his mind.

“Honey?” He doesn’t shout lest he wake his daughter as he walks in, his fingers twitching with the need to see both of you.

“I’m on the sofa baby,” it’s almost as if he was never gone. You lean over the sofa to see him pass through the kitchen, his hands holding a small bag. “I’m sorry I can’t stand to kiss you, Spence.”

He tuts, leaning down over you, “Nonsense, how’re you feeling?” His eyes flit over to the cot beside you, roving over your daughter before settling back on you.

“Like I missed you longer than you’ve been gone.” You’re waterlogged immediately and Spencer rounds the sofa to pull you into him.

“I missed you too,” his lips press into your temple, “God I missed you both so much.” Tears wet your hairline but you can’t seem to care, Spencer’s home and he’s able to see your baby girl together. What more could you want?

“I brought you some snacks, I figured you hadn’t been able to get any of your cravings.” He says gently, opening a bag to show you all the chocolate malt balls, the yoghurt raisins and the nuts you’d just run out of. “I got something for Georgia too.”

“Spence,” you gasp when you see the orange stuffed octopus that he pulls out, it’s just as big as Georgia is now. He wipes the tears that fall on your cheeks, kissing your nose before opening the tub of nuts for you. “Seventh smartest animal in the world.” you recall softly.

“Can I hold her?” He asks finally and you nod, watching him stand and hover over the bassinet.

“Just scoop her up Spence, she’s going to be so happy you’re home.”

Spencer doesn��t say a word, practically holding his breath as he does as you say- scooping Georgia up in record time and holding her close to his chest. There’s a moment right after she wriggles a bit when she settles and Spencer feels an ungodly wave of emotion crash into him.

Of course, he’d read that men only feel like fathers the moment they hold their babies, and everyone had told him (everyone being Derek and JJ) that you can’t control the way your heart kind of cracks open to make room for this new love, but he still hadn’t expected it to be so immediate and visceral.

“Hi Georgia,” he whispers, his tears rolling down the bridge of his nose as he strokes her cheek. “Hi sweet girl.” You’re enamoured already, looking at Spencer holding your daughter like she’s made of fine China. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were born, baby. But I promise I’m not missing anything else where you’re concerned.”

Tears pool in your eyes as your daughter wakes up, no crying or wailing, just small coos and gurgles as she looks at Spencer.

“It’s your daddy, Georgia.” You murmur, sniffling and wiping your eyes as Spencer hiccups as she reaches for his face, her little fist bumping into his jaw.

Her almond eyes stare up at him, blinking all slow as she takes him in. Then she smiles, as if she's put a face to the man who spoke to her every night, telling her all the facts he'd read and learnt about babies, animals and whatever soothing topic he could find to tell her while she lived in your belly.

“Your mom lied to me, you look just like her.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as Spencer gives you a little glare. “Those eyes are all her, Peach. Maybe you won’t get your daddy’s brain either- it’s no fun being smart and getting beat up.” You throw a cashew at Spencer then, making him chuckle and come sit beside you.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You whisper, stroking Georgia’s cheek as you press yours into Spencer’s bicep.

“I’m happy to be back, angel.” his eyes remain transfixed to Georgia all day, holding her and touching her foot when he can’t because you have to feed her. Spencer thinks to himself that he’d live through prison a thousand times over if every time he gets out, he can come back to this moment, to the peace and serenity in your home with you and your little girl and the life you’d made together colouring every wall of the house.

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cutielando · 2 days

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sweet girl ~ oscar piastri

Summary: Oscar kept his personal life pretty private, so when he appears at the paddock with his wife and his almost 1-year-old daughter, everyone is shocked.

Words: 1.2k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

"Are you sure she's ready?" you asked Oscar one night, laying in bed facing each other.

"She'll be safe with you and my parents, you don't have to worry about that. We don't have to bring her if you don't want, it was just a thought" he said, tracing your spine with the tips on his fingers.

Ever since Charlotte was born, you've kept it a complete secrete from the public. You hadn't even told anyone that you were pregnant except for your families and the McLaren team. Given that your lives were very public and in the open eye, you wanted to enjoy your pregnancy as something only for the two of you.

"How do you think the world is going to react?" you asked, already picturing the whole paddock going crazy over the fact that you would be bringing your baby to a race.

"They're going to lose their minds" Oscar chuckled, pulling you even closer.

You chuckled alongside him before you settled into a comfortable silence, the baby monitor silent for the moment.

"This past year has been amazing. Just the three of us, nobody commenting on how we should be leading our lives" you said, thinking back on the one year since your girl has entered this world.

Your pregnancy has been amazing, you were lucky that you didn't experience morning sickness at all, you didn't have weird cravings, you hadn't gained that much weight, you weren't tired, you kept active. It was really the dream pregnancy.

Oscar, of course, had become all that more protective of you and the baby. He made sure you were always comfortable, you never had to strain yourself more than necessary, he was practically at your beck and call the entire time.

When it came down to labor, he was with you the whole time you had to push, whispering encouraging words, holding you up and holding your hand. He was the best, helping you with your recovery and being the most hands-on new father that you had ever met.

And you weren't just saying that because you were biased.

"It has. I'm surprised nobody figured it out, to be honest" he said, making the two of you laugh.

"Imagine their surprise when they see us with Char" you said, silently hoping Oscar would get the hint.

He was silent for a moment before he looked down to you, a smile threatening to escape his lips.

"Does that mean you'll come to the race with her?" you giggled, nodding your head.

Oscar pulled you to him, kissing your lips eagerly. Just as you rolled around and ended up on top of him, your hands wordlessly sliding up his shirt, cries erupted from the baby monitor, making you sigh and chuckle.

"I'll get her" Oscar said, kissing your forehead and leaving the room to soothe your daughter.

♡♡♡♡♡

"Do we have everything?" you asked, finishing dressing your baby girl in a papaya onesie the McLaren team had gifted you for the occasion.

"Yes, everything is in the bag" Oscar assured you, picking it up along with his backpack.

"Are you ready to go see daddy race, sweet girl?" you cooed at Charlotte, who smiled wordlessly at the both of you.

Her small hands reached out to Oscar, her eyes twinkling at her father.

"You ready, Char?" Oscar asked in a baby voice, tickling her tummy which prompted your girl to erupt in a fit of giggles, your favorite sound in the world.

After spending a couple more minutes with your little family, you two met up with his parents and started your journey towards the track, Oscar's parents playing with Charlotte the whole way to keep her entertained.

Once you finally arrived, Oscar took the bags and kept you close to him as you held Charlotte, trying to shield her face away from the thousands of flashed coming your way.

She, on the other hand, being the little social butterfly that she was, insisted on being seen, waving to everyone that passed by you.

A couple of interviewers signaled for Oscar to give a statement, so he gently pulled the two of you with him towards one of the friendlier ones.

"Oscar Piastri, the man of the moment. I see you have brought someone special with you to your home race, care to share the news with us?" the kind woman asked, her eyes darting to the happy little girl holding her McLaren teddy in her arms.

"This is my wife, Y/N, as my fans know, but we have an addition to the family. This is our daughter, Charlotte Rose, she's almost 1 year old and she decided she wanted to watch her daddy drive today, isn't that right, Char?" Oscar turned his attention to your daughter, gently caressing her cheek.

She smiled widely at him and squealed "Voom voom!" which made everyone melt and awe.

"She is adorable, congratulations to you both. This is the first time we're hearing about her, how did you come to the decision to keep Y/N's pregnancy a secret?" the woman followed up, smiling at you the whole time.

"I am a public figure and my whole life is being displayed to the public. When we found out that we were expecting, we both made the decision to keep it to ourselves and our families, mainly so we could have a sense of normality for when she would be born and not throw her into the spotlight immediately. We wanted to enjoy it for ourselves for a while" he explained, not even minding that Charlotte was tugging at his hair as she wriggled in your arms.

"We understand. Congratulations to both of you once again, you have made one beautiful young daughter. I wish you good luck on the race and much love in the future with this little one" the interviewer looked at you for permission to touch her, which you gave by simply smiling.

The woman squished her cheeks, making Charlotte smile and babble at her, seemingly happy as a bug.

Oscar thanked the woman and led you through the paddock towards the McLaren hospitality, where you and his parents would be residing in for the race.

Once there, Lando and Zak were waiting for you, eager to see the newest addition to the Papaya army.

"There she is, my favorite little munchkin" Lando cooed before taking her from your arms, your little girl giggling once she laid eyes on her favorite uncle.

"La-do" Charlotte giggled, not being able to pronounce his name correctly yet.

"Yes, it's your uncle Lado. You just get cuter and cuter every time I see you" he bounced her in his arms, making her erupt in a fit of laughter which made everyone in the hospitality smile.

"How are you, Y/N?" Zak asked, putting a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm great, thank God. She's keeping us on our toes, but we love it nonetheless. Oscar really wanted her for the race and I couldn't deny him that" you explained, making Zak nod and smile.

You diverted your eyes back to your husband, who was now sitting on the floor with Lando and playing with Charlotte.

As you watched them, you knew that you would never trade this for anything else in the world. This right here, Oscar and your girl, was everything that you needed.

Just Oscar and your sweet girl.

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its-avalon-08 · 1 day

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Hello! Can I req ln4 x reader where they are secretly married, but the entire world just know they're bestfriend. One day an interviewer ask if they are a thing and they say they're married but sarcastically (like Chris Evans and Elizabeth Olsen on Ellen show) and in the end they decided to just reveal it. Thank you!!

🗣️avaspeaks: i love this request so much!!! and i thoroughly enjoyed writing this one, and i hope i did it justice!

we decided to break the internet (ln4)

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡

introduction - lando and y/n were practically inseparable since childhood. building sandcastle empires on the beach, trading pokémon cards at recess, navigating the awkwardness of middle school together - they'd seen it all. what neither quite admitted, not even to themselves, was the secret crush simmering beneath the surface of their friendship. every time lando tried to impress a girl with his skateboard tricks, y/n would "accidentally" trip him mid-grind. and whenever y/n had a date, lando would "forget" to return her favorite dress, the one that made her feel invincible. their sabotage was childish, sure, but it stemmed from a fear of losing the other entirely. one summer night, sprawled on the hood of lando's beat-up car, gazing at a sky exploding with stars, something shifted. maybe it was the whispered secrets shared, or the way their laughter mingled with the chirping crickets. in that moment, childhood friendship flickered, ignited by a spark of something deeper, a love waiting to prosper.

the air crackled with anticipation as lando norris and a stunning y/n settled into the interview chairs. formula one fans adored their playful dynamic, convinced they were just best friends. little did anyone know, they'd been secretly married for over a year and a half.

"so," the interviewer began, a sly smile on his face, "the fans are curious. is there anything going on between you two, romantically?"

lando shot y/n a mock glare. "absolutely! infact we're married!!!," he deadpanned, throwing his head back in exaggerated shock.

the room froze. cameras flashed. y/n, stifling a laugh, gasped dramatically. "married and absolutely smitten with eachother! lando, haven't you told them about movie night and all the crying over sappy rom-coms?"

the audience erupted in gasps and whispers. even the other drivers, strategically placed in the back row, looked bewildered. carlos, oscar,max,charles,daniel,alex and george laughed silently into their hands.

lando, playing along, clutched his chest. "oh no, you can't tell them about that! what will the neighbors think of all the late-night screaming about popcorn refills?"

y/n doubled over, tears welling up (from laughter, not the fake movie marathons). "and the screaming matches over who gets the last slice of pizza? lando, you monster!"

the room buzzed with confusion. were they…? weren't they…?

the interviewer, clearly flustered, stammered, "wait, so… you're saying you have movie nights and… screaming matches?"

lando winked at the camera. "the usual newlywed stuff, you know?"

y/n, wiping a fake tear, added, "don't even get me started on the scooter races in the paddock."

the room descended into chaos. reporters scribbled furiously, phones buzzed, and drivers peeked over their chairs, jaws slack.

lando, barely able to hold back a real laugh, reached for y/n's hand. "alright, alright," he conceded, "we might be exaggerating a tad. movie nights are definitely a thing, though. y/n's a terror with the remote."

y/n swatted him playfully. "hey! at least i let you pick the action movies sometimes."

suddenly, y/n did something unexpected. with a flourish, she turned her hand, revealing a simple gold band with a sparkling diamond. the room fell silent.

"oh by the way we've actually married for about two years now," y/n raised an eyebrow at lando, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across her face. "forgot to mention that detail, did you?"

lando, speechless for once, could only stare at the ring, then back at the stunned faces around him. the dam broke. laughter, loud and genuine, erupted from them both. the tension in the room evaporated, replaced by a mixture of shock, amusement, and a touch of awe.

as the interview wrapped up, the secret was out. lando and y/n, f1's favorite "best friends," were husband and wife. the post-interview scrum was a whirlwind. questions flew, cameras flashed in their faces, and congratulations poured in. through it all, lando and y/n stuck together, their laughter echoing through the room, a testament to their love and their ability to surprise everyone, even the f1 world.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!

leave a like, leave a comment!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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candylix · 3 days

Text

one little lie | hyung line (part 3)

Pairing • FWB!Minho x Fem!Reader x Hyung Line

A/N • This is last part of the fic! You can read part 1 and part 2 here

Summary • The boys have one rule in their shared apartment. Don't bring girls over for sex. So when Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin walk in on Minho fucking the living daylights out of you in the living room, he has to lie to save his own skin. His excuse? That's not a girl under him... you're a sex robot. And now they all want to try you out.

Genre • smut, sci-fi ish? (sex robots are a thing in this world that people know about and use)

WC • 2.9k

Content • reader pretends to be a sex robot, free use, dubcon, groping, dry humping, sexual comments, piv penetration (with feelings!), clit stimulation, orgasm denial, riding

Minho walks you out of the bathroom, and you arrive to the empty living room. Chan was definitely still recovering after what he just did, but where were the other two?

You sit on the couch, right in front of the coffee table that started it all. This would have been a completely different day if you fucked in his room instead. Maybe you would've had to try and sneak out of the apartment without being caught. That would've been thrilling.

But you have to admit, today was fun too.

You hear Minho's phone vibrate in his pants, and he takes it out to see who's texting him.

"Oh, it's Jisung. He says he's gonna be here very soon."

"Talking to the robot? I know you're lonely, but come on."

Hyunjin strolls into the room, wearing nothing but loose, cotton pajama pants. You freeze, eyes staring straight ahead. As soon as he sees you sitting pretty in the middle of the couch, he stops caring about whatever he was going to do, and makes his way towards you.

Minho's eyes furrow, but he ignores Hyunjin's teasing to text Jisung back.

Hyunjin takes a seat behind you, and snakes one hand under your shirt to fondle your boobs.

"Do we have to give her back?" he whines.

"Yes..." Minho says, and looks back up from his phone, only to see Hyunjin groping you like he wasn't even there. "Do you have to be doing that? Have some decorum."

"I literally saw you with your dick in her a few hours ago. You don't get to talk."

As if to spite Minho, he moves himself to sit behind you, and both his hands travel under your shirt and to your chest. He continues squeezing you, palms rubbing over your nipples until they poke out under his hands. He pulls and pinches them, and you try to suppress the noise you make, but a soft whimper slips out anyway. You feel something hard press against your lower back— he's turned on. You sit there as he fondles you, and his erection grows stiffer. Suddenly, you feel movement, and you realize Hyunjin has started rubbing his dick against you. He grinds his cock against your ass, slightly bouncing you up and down, and Minho just stares in silence at the scene unfolding in front of him. His own erection forms as he watches Hyunjin grope and dry hump you. Unconsciously, his hand lowers down to palm at his crotch.

Finally, Changbin walks in, and when he sees Hyunjin humping you on the couch, he kicks him out from behind you. Reluctantly, Hyunjin stops, and his hands come out from under your shirt. He moves to sit beside you once again.

"Do that in private, man. Gross."

"Well, Minho liked it," Hyunjin says, and Minho's cheeks flush.

"What? No! I was in shock! I can't believe you did that."

"Mmhm. Sure. Look where your hand is right now."

Minho looks down, and his eyes widen when he sees his hand mindlessly rubbing his bulge. He yanks his hand away, and you can see the huge mound that has formed.

"Both of you need help," Changbin says, and leaves for the kitchen.

A moment later, Chan walks in, and sees you on the couch.

"Oh, she comes with clothes?" he asks

"Of course she has clothes," Minho says pointedly, "I had to bring her here, and I'm not gonna be seen carrying a naked woman around with me."

"I don't know what you're into," Chan says, and walks to take a seat on the couch beside you. You're sandwiched between these two men, and Chan's hand lays itself on your thigh. Unlike Hyunjin, he doesn't go any further than that.

"He's into watching people fuck the sex robot," Hyunjin says, snickering at Minho's face getting progressively more red.

Chan's face drops. Apparently, it wasn't just 'bros helping bros' for Minho.

You hear someone pounding on the front door, startling everyone in the room, and saving Minho from this uncomfortable conversation. The door knob rattles frantically, but the door is locked, so whoever's there goes back to banging on the door.

Minho is more than happy to leave them and go open the door, and no one is surprised when Jisung reveals himself on the other side. He barrels into the apartment, almost pushing Minho down, and his eyes fix on you.

He swings his arm out to point at Chan.

"Get your nasty ass hand off of her, fiend!" he yells.

Chan raises his hands up, and Jisung points at Hyunjin next.

"And you. Put a shirt on!"

"This is literally my apartment," Hyunjin says, shrugging off Jisung's complaint.

Changbin runs back into the living room with a half empty water bottle, raised like a club.

"What the hell is that- oh. Hi, Jisung." He lowers down his improvised weapon.

"Hey," Jisung says calmly, as if none of that just happened.

"Here for your girlfriend?" Changbin asks, intending to make fun of him, but his words bounce off Jisung easily.

"Yes," he says, and turns to the men on the couch, "Now bring her to me!"

Chan and Hyunjin look at each other, look back to Jisung, and when he signals for them to come, they lift you up and walk you to him. Jisung gently grasps your shoulders, and looks into your eyes.

"Blink once if you're ok."

The two men standing behind you roll their eyes at his theatrics, unaware that you can and do respond. You blink, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Jisung holds you close to his chest, and looks back at the men in the room.

"Well, thanks for using my robot without permission. I definitely wanted you to do that," he says, fake annoyance in his voice.

"Not sorry," Changbin says, walking over to where the rest of you are standing. "She was great."

"Can you send me the link to the store? I want one for myself," Hyunjin asks.

"You can't buy these online," Jisung responds, not missing a beat.

Unlike Minho, Jisung is good at coming up with excuses that are actually believable. You've known him a long time; it's a skill he developed while asking for homework extensions and calling in sick to work.

"Oh," Hyunjin says, "is there a physical location I can go to?"

"No the store burnt down. It's closed forever," Minho says, words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he can think. Jisung side-eyes him.

"Anyway, I gotta go now," Jisung interjects. He opens the door to leave, and Minho wraps an arm under you to walk you out.

"Bring her back sometime!" Chan yells out.

"No!" Jisung yells back, and closes the door.

When they're finally out in the hallway, Jisung smacks the back of Minho's head.

"Ow, what was that for!?"

Minho unwraps his hand from around you, and clasps the sore spot on his head.

"Everything," Jisung says. "Never try to lie again. You're terrible at it."

"Agreed," you say.

You walk back to Jisung's car. Minho takes the front seat, so you sit at the back while Jisung drives. Everyone sits in silence, not sure what to say after all that happened. You take this time to reflect. You know what a rational person would think about all this, but they've fucked the rationality out of you. All things considered, if Minho wanted to 'borrow' you again… you don't know that you'd be opposed.

"So…" Jisung starts, interrupting the silence. "Can I use the sex robot too?"

This time it was Minho's turn to smack him on the head.

"I was joking!" Jisung says defensively. Minho raises his hand again, and Jisung shields himself with his arm.

"Hide your boner before you say that," Minho responds.

"What? I'm not-" he glances down, noticing the tent springing up in his pants. "This is just because I love driving. Traffic is so sexy."

"God, you're so annoying. Why am I even friends with you?"

"Excuse me. I just saved your ass."

You laugh at your two friends bickering in the front seats. They can be stupid sometimes, but you're glad to have them around.

"Thank you, Jisung," you say, and they both quiet down.

"Thanks," Minho says softly.

You can see a smile form on Jisung's face in the rear view mirror.

"Don't mention it. I'll always be here for you both."

You finally arrive back home, and you hug Jisung goodbye. Minho walks with you into your apartment.

The first thing you do is collapse onto the couch. It was a long day, you're tired, and all you want to do is lie down.

"Come on, you need to wash up properly," Minho says, attempting to lift you up.

You don't budge. Minho gives up, and falls on top of you, squishing you under him.

"Hey!" you laugh, and you try to push him off, but he holds onto you.

"I thought we were laying down," he says, smiling as you struggle under him, until you finally manage to push him off. He rolls onto the floor, laying on his back. He looks up at you, and sighs.

"I'm sorry about all that. I should've just..."

"It's ok," you say, and he sits up.

"No, that was a shitty thing to do."

"Minho, really. I had fun."

His face finally softens up.

"Yeah, I could see that," he says, smirking. You throw a cushion at him.

"Don't give me that look. I saw you jerking yourself off in the living room."

He pauses.

"Fuck. They saw me do that. I'm never gonna live that down. And I didn't even get to cum," he says, collapsing back to the floor. "Why did they come home so early."

You feel bad for the guy. All his roommates got to fuck you, when the whole plan was for him to do it. You saw his dick bulging in his pants more times than you actually saw his dick today. He was probably horny as hell, but trying to keep it together.

His face is buried in his hands as he thinks about all the embarrassing things he did in front of his roommates.

You just wanted to tease him more.

"Yeah, I bet they're talking about it right now," you say. He groans. "I bet they're talking about how you helped Chan fuck me. How you bounced me on his dick and watched him cum inside me."

He squeezes his legs together. The teasing is working.

"I bet you wanted to watch the others too, right? You didn't get to see Hyunjin fucking himself on my boobs."

Minho moans, and you can tell he wasn't expecting it, because he turns to hide his face from you.

"And Changbin... he was so thick. He completely stretched me out. You should've seen the way he pounded into me. He could barely fit inside."

"You're killing me," Minho whispers.

"Remember what Jisung said in the car? I'm sure you would've loved to see him pull over and fuck me in the backseat-"

"Alright!" he shouts, interrupting you.

He suddenly stands up, with a massive protrusion in his crotch. Without warning, he pulls down your pants, and then his own, and you see his hard, leaking cock throbbing in front of you. He wastes no time climbing on top of you. He pulls off your shirt, and throws it across the room.

"You really want to see me horny, huh? Well guess what, it worked."

He grabs your wrists and holds them over your head with one hand. He did this after your time with Hyunjin, when he was wiping you down, but you don't think he'll be as gentle this time.

"Do you know how hard it was, seeing their cum all over you, and not fucking you then and there?"

At those words, you can feel yourself getting wet. You've never seen him like this before.

His free hand goes to his cock, positioning it at your entrance. He pushes it to your core, but doesn't put it in. It throbs against you, desperate and needy, and your pussy throbs with it.

"I was trying not to overwhelm you, but it looks like I should've just fucked you every time we went to the bathroom together."

He punctuates his sentence by ramming his cock in you. It hits you hard, and you can't help the moan that comes out.

"While I was waiting for you to finish, you were getting drunk on all their cocks, huh? You like getting fucked like a sex toy?"

He rams his dick inside you again, and you moan louder.

"I'll use you like one, then."

His hands move to your waist, and he thrusts into you, again and again, finally getting to fuck you after watching all his friends fuck you first. His bucking is desperate and frantic, and you barely have time to process the way his dick plows into you before it's taken out and slammed back in.

One hand moves to your clit, and you moan out his name as he rubs circles around it. You twitch under his touch, the stimulation from inside and out of your pussy leaving you unable to control yourself. He watches you writhe on the couch, brain turned to mush as he fucks you senseless.

How he feels is paradoxical— he liked watching you get fucked, but he needed you to want him more.

He leans over you, thrusting into you deeper, and grabs your boobs.

"Did you like it when Hyunjin did this?" he asks, and gives them a squeeze. You answer his question with a moan, and he kneads into your breasts. You can feel your orgasm growing as he continues bucking into you, and your nipples harden under his hands. He pulls your nipples when he thrusts into your g-spot, and you can feel yourself about to reach your climax.

"I'm gonna cum," you moan, and he immediately stops. You feel his dick slide out against your walls, and you whimper at the empty feeling he leaves you with. Your core aches from the loss of contact, throbbing as your orgasm slowly disappears.

"Not yet."

He carries you up from the couch, making you stand up while he takes a seat. His legs are slightly spread apart, and he holds his throbbing cock up, but it's so hard that it might as well be standing up on it's own.

"Sit down," he commands, and you waste no time climbing onto his lap. He guides you onto him, and you feel his cock fill you up as you lower yourself down. Soon, his entire dick throbs inside you, hot and stiff as it presses into a sensitive spot.

"I'll make you feel better than Chan did," he whispers, and a chill runs down your spine.

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, licking on and around it, and he kneads your other boob with his hand. He rolls his hips into you, his free arm holding your waist to keep you steady, and you melt into the feeling. His cock pumps into you, slow at first, but he speeds up as his own need builds. Your head leans back as you feel your orgasm coming, and you buck into him. His dick hits you harder as you bounce into it, and he moans into your boob. He breaks away from your chest to watch you fuck yourself on his dick. Your eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, and you moan loudly when he bucks his hip forcefully into you.

His hips roll into you faster now, watching you moan and twitch on his lap. You can feel your orgasm come quickly, and one last thrust into your g-spot takes you over the edge. You feel his dick keep pounding into you as your walls clench, and you gush around his cock. The pressure on his dick, and moan that comes out of you, are enough to take him into his own orgasm. He bucks into you wildly, and you feel his hot liquid spurt out inside you as he moans your name.

He leans back into the couch in exhaustion. You're too tired to get yourself off him, so you grab his chest to hold yourself up.

He admires how you look, breathing heavily after being fucked, sitting on his lap with his cock still buried deep inside you. He could stay here forever with you like this.

"Who was better?" he asks, "Me, or them?" He rolls his hips into you, and you twitch from how sensitive you are.

"You," you say, still breathless from what just happened.

"Of course I am."

He helps you off of his lap, and you collapse onto the couch next to him.

"Still, if you want me to 'borrow' you again, let me know. I'm sure they'd love to see you again."

You're too tired to respond, so you just nod your head.

The atmosphere surrounding the rest of the evening is very warm. He cleans you up thoroughly, and you order takeout to eat for dinner. He puts on a movie, and you fall asleep on his shoulder halfway through. When the movie ends, he carries you to your bed and tucks you in. He considers leaving, but you look so comfortable, so instead he joins you under the covers and snuggles up to you. Soon, he falls asleep too.

He dreams of Jisung fucking you in the backseat of his car.

taglist:

@loeyscock @0325tiny @5starlee @miupow @mapofthemazeinthemirror @sadrosessing @luminouskalopsia @minghaosimp @curiousgworge @azuna-sz @piscesrising01 @g-bbzz @extrhotjne @nabi-tokoshi @kpopsstuffs

@weareapackofstrays @jabmastersupriseee @neko-squidblog @lurking-coconut @kiaralynn3838

@chanssmiles @linos-kitten

This is the end! Thanks for reading everyone!

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee minho #minho smut #minho x reader #minho x reader smut #lee know x reader smut

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azrielbrainrot · 22 hours

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The Right Time

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Azriel wakes up with a massive hangover and the girl of his dreams sitting in his kitchen.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3390

Notes: This story is set immediately after Loose Lips and Big Feelings so I encourage you to read it before this one. It's also part of the band au if you're curious to know more about them. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

Azriel can feel the headache even before he opens his eyes, a groan escaping him when he slowly comes to after a strangely lucid dream. He raises up a hand to cover his face, trying to protect his eyes from any light filtering in through the blinds. It's been a while since he's gotten this drunk, ever since he and his brothers decided to take a serious chance at this band thing, performances and rehearsals taking up most of their weekends.

As a rush of broken memories carrying your voice and images of your teasing smile come back to him, he remembers the other reason he'd abstained from drinking lately. He's been patient with your feelings and trying to take things as slow as possible, not wanting to make a single mistake to ruin what he's sure could be the best thing that has ever happened to him. A drunken sloppy confession is the farthest thing from what he's been planning, and you deserve nothing but the best.

He sits up with a grunt, pausing slowly as he finds the strength to get up, his head felt like it weighed as much as whatever Cassian benches. As Azriel looks down at himself he notices he's only wearing his underwear, but a glance at where his clothes are carefully placed over the back of his desk chair tells him he wasn't the one to take them off. He runs a hand through his hair, you had been the one to take him home, that much he knows for sure, in fact the last thing he remembers was you grabbing his hand and leading him to a car with bright eyes. The image that flashes of you helping him take off his shirt has him finally get up and rush to his bathroom.

More and more memories come to him as he takes a shower and puts on his clothes, cringing softly at how the first thought in his drunk mind was to ask you to meet him, how you came to find him even though you told him you were tired and then preceded to spend the entire night babysitting him. There isn't a single memory he has from the night before where you weren't right by his side. He can't recall even half the things he told you but he remembers you listening to everything, holding his hand and smiling at him the whole time. As much as he's a little embarrassed of the situation, his heart also feels like it might beat out of his chest.

Distractedly pulling some sweatpants on after haphazardly drying his hair, Azriel grabs his phone up from his nightstand and starts walking to the kitchen while trying to see if you left him any messages, already pondering on what he should say after everything that happened the previous night. Pretending he didn't remember anything is an easy out, but he's not sure he can lie to your pretty face, or even if he wants to.

What he didn't expect in his wildest dreams was to turn the corner and look up from his phone to find you sitting at his table eating breakfast.

Azriel pauses midstep, caught completely by surprise when you look up at him with an amused expression, albeit looking a little surprised yourself. It takes him entirely too long to snap out of it and in the meantime your eyes start traveling down his body, taking note of how little clothes he's wearing while his face heats up. Since he only expected Cassian to be home, he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt. Intrigue fills your gaze as you trace every tattoo covering his torso and arms. There was something else swirling in your eyes, a certain heat that told him his tattoos weren't the only thing you were studying.

He clears his throat before speaking, subtly getting your attention back to his eyes, not sure how to deal with the weight of that heat over breakfast. “Good morning,” his throat still feels dry, making his voice come out raspier than usual. You bite your bottom lip softly before offering a shy greeting of your own as your smile returns, even if adorned with tinted cheeks at being caught staring at him.

“I hope you don't mind but I stayed in the guest room,” you start softly, pointing to the hallway as you spoke, “It was late when I finally managed to get you into bed,” you bite your lip again as if remembering the entire ordeal, trying to bite back a chuckle, “I've never seen you that drunk.”

He's glad you didn't go back home by yourself at such a late hour, and doesn't even want to think about what could have happened. A funny feeling also blooms in his chest at the thought of you deeming his house safe to stay the night in. The problem was the guest room was a mess and the idea of you not only seeing it but also sleeping there made him cringe softly once again. The room had been turned into somewhat of a storage room when he and Cassian moved in since they didn't really need it and had extra stuff to put away. The countless promises between each other to tidy it up were forgotten the longer they stayed in the apartment. The last time you'd slept over he offered his own bed for this exact reason, but he understands why you wouldn't want to sleep with him when he was that drunk.

“I don't remember the last time I was that drunk,” he confesses, tearing his eyes away from you and moving to the fridge to find some food, desperately trying to act normal when the domesticity in this whole situation threatens to send him into cardiac arrest.

Azriel had easily accepted that the two of you would stay friends until you sorted out your life and had a chance to think about your relationship. He was more than confident you liked him as much as he liked you so it wasn't too hard to do. In truth, he was also perfectly content in being your friend even if that's all you ever wanted from him. But moments like these, with you sitting on his kitchen chair, wearing one of his shirts and what he suspects is a pair of his boxers, eating your favorite cereal - the ones he made sure to add to his grocery list - out of his bowl, after everything that happened the night before, was making it really hard for him to ignore his feelings. The only thing he can think about right now is how much he wants to kiss you, maybe bring you back to bed with him so he can cuddle you and sleep off this headache in your arms.

He takes his time assembling a bowl of cereal of his own, sluggish movements not pairing well with how distracted he was. By the time he turns back around, bowl in hand, he notices how your face had changed from the beautiful amused expression you had been wearing when he came in into a conflicted one. He wasn't sure if it was his fault, but he felt this intense need to change it back around either way. And so he walks to the table and sits right next to you, giving you a smile when you look up at him with slightly wide eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You blink and recover immediately, pushing your thoughts away as if only now remembering he was right there. “I should be the one to ask you that,” your hand raises slowly, hesitating for just a moment before fixing his hair, brushing it softly away from his face, he hadn't even thought about how messy it must be, “You look a bit like shit if I'm being honest.”

He chuckles at this, though with the way you were eyeing him up earlier no one would have guessed. “I feel like shit too. I have half a mind to go back to sleep.”

“I'm actually surprised you slept through the night,” you say as you pull your hand away seemingly content with his hair for now, much to his dismay.

“We haven't really gotten to party in a while. I guess I got carried away with the celebration too,” he scratches the back of his neck and stuffs a spoon of cereal into his mouth, chewing slowly as you turn sideways in your chair, fully facing him now.

“Right, I almost forgot! Congratulations. I know you guys have been working really hard. You really deserve this. I'm sure you're going to start getting booked a lot more all over the city after this.” Your excitement makes him blush, never one to know what to say when someone praises him so openly and finding it even harder to handle coming from you. He simply nods and lets out a small thank you, but you don't seem offended, in fact your grin even widens. You already know him so well.

Silence falls between you again, notably more comfortable than before, as you seem to get lost in thought and he tries not to think about the way your knees brush his thigh, or how beautiful you look in his kitchen, sitting and talking to him while wearing his clothes, hair still messy and eyes still a bit puffy, how he wishes he got to see this every day.

You bring your elbow to rest on the table, face falling against your hand as your gaze falls back on him, making up your mind on whatever was bothering you. When you call out his name softly, he instantly turns to face you as if he was a sailor being charmed to the bottom of the ocean by his enchanting siren, and his breath almost gets knocked out of him for the nth time since he walked into this kitchen.

“Do you remember everything that happened last night?” You bring your other hand to play with the back of his chair, your eyes following your movements. He's inclined to believe it was so you didn't reach out to touch him again, he's definitely noticed how touchy you are, especially with him. You looked clearly nervous about his answer. The question is, would you be relieved if he remembered or if he didn't? Gods, he really hopes you don't regret any of what you told him the night before because there is no way he will ever be able to forget the sweet words.

“Most of it,” he admits, studying your expression intently and turning slightly so he's closer to facing you.

“And is there anything you regret saying?” So that's what it was. You had probably been scared he was too drunk to know what he was saying. The notion is actually laughable, if anything he was still holding back even as drunk as he was. He could write a whole album about you, in fact he's in the process of finishing a song he can only credit to you.

“I meant every word, princess.” You give him a shy smile in response and just as you were about to open your mouth to tell him something, his roommate decides to walk into the kitchen.

“Good morning. Didn't realize we had guests,” he sends Azriel a knowing smile, reading the room all wrong and prompting you to move away from him.

“I brought Azriel home last night and ended up staying in the guest room since it was late,” you explain, clearly catching on to Cassian's thoughts. Azriel couldn't really fault him for thinking you'd slept together since it's more than obvious to anyone that he's head over heels for you and you're currently sitting in their kitchen wearing his clothes, you have also stayed in his room a couple times before. Still, it clearly embarrassed you and he hopes the glare he sends Cassian is enough to make him swallow any further comments he might have come up with.

Cass straightens up slightly, thankfully catching on to your tone, even though there was still a twinkle in his eye Azriel had to hold himself back from wiping off his face. “That's very nice of you. Thank you for making sure our bassist got home safe,” he immediately responds in a jokingly tone, “What would we do without him?” You let out a chuckle at this.

“Maybe I should have helped you too. I heard you stumble in later into the night,” you tease. Azriel feels his entire body relax at your change in demeanor.

“I wasn't stumbling. I even opened the door on the first try.” Your giggles fill the room, clearly not believing his brother. He can't laugh himself since he can't remember how he got in and it had definitely been with your help, but he's more than aware of Cassian's lack of coordination when he gets a little drunk.

“What about Rhys and Mor? Did they make it home? I don't have their phone numbers, I thought about asking for them so they could let me know when they got home but everyone was so gone by the time I even got there.”

“I don't think Mor went to her house but she texted me earlier,” a cheeky grin spreading on his face before he continued, “Rhysie definitely got home. He brought company too.”

“Feyre?” You lean forward slightly, suddenly very interested in the gossip. Cassian nods dramatically. “Finally. They've been making eyes at each other for so long. It was bound to happen.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Azriel tenses up again, easily catching on to the parallels. Apparently so does Cassian, the range of emotions that pass by his face as he looks between Azriel and you and back again are nothing short of hilarious. Azriel would have laughed out loud if they weren't at his expense. Cassian looked almost incredulous as he looked at Azriel.

Your eyes widen as you watch Cassian, an embarrassed expression falling over your face once again. You clearly only understood how your words could be applied to your relationship with Azriel after you've said them out loud. It really was impossible not to notice but now Azriel wants nothing more than to grab Cassian by the shoulders and shake as hard as he can until his brother finds some manners and stops making you feel like this.

He almost wishes he never got out of bed. This really wasn't the type of conversation to be having in his kitchen, definitely not with the headache that still pounded at his brain or in front of Cassian. Hell, if he had been mistaken this whole time, this would be the saddest place to get his heart broken and he didn't need an audience for that. He'd have to find another apartment and roommate just to have a chance at ever forgetting your face.

“Don't you have to get ready for work?” Azriel needed to get him out of there before he could do any more damage. The look on your face was making his chest feel tight. You sat in the chair picking at the hem of your shirt, you truly looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Yeah. I still need to shower,” Cassian caught on fast, leaving the kitchen without even saying another word. Azriel glances at you when he hears a door close in the distance, catching your eyes already searching his face. It seemed neither of you knew what to say.

You were right, Feyre and Rhys had been running circles around each other for a few weeks now, but you and Azriel had been at it for months. All the stolen glances, lingering touches, sweet words were getting harder and harder to ignore or deny. It crosses Azriel's mind that if he leaned in the already short distance between you two and kissed you, everything could be resolved in this exact kitchen, headache or no headache, but you deserve so much more and the thought sobers him up, biting his lip and dragging his eyes away from your inviting mouth.

“I should actually go too,” you whisper, noticing the change in the atmosphere. You're up on your feet before he has the chance to react, setting your empty bowl in the sink.

“You don't have to do that,” Azriel starts but you shake your head, stopping him in whatever he was going to say next.

“I do, I have assignments to finish,” you pull the shirt down a little, probably hyper aware that it was his, “I need to go change. I'll be right back.” You leave the kitchen even faster than Cassian did, not letting Azriel get any word in.

He leans back against his chair, throwing his head back and letting out a sigh. So much happened in so little time, he was having trouble even wrapping his mind around the whole situation. He can't tell if you ran back so fast because you were still embarrassed or if you're simply not ready to have this conversation. You've been getting better lately, no longer stressing so much about school and coming to terms with the fact that your best friend hurt you so much, but that doesn't mean you're ready for a relationship, especially if it could come with the possibility of losing a friend if it ended up not working out. Azriel wasn't in a rush for anything either, things between the two of you are perfect.

Still, he hopes you hadn't taken his silence earlier as him ignoring your feelings or pretending things are completely platonic between you. Even worse, he really doesn't know what to do if that look on your face wasn't only embarrassment but also disappointment. The last thing Azriel wants to happen is you thinking that he doesn't have any intention of acting on his feelings or that he's been playing around with yours.

“Azriel?” Your voice startles him out of his thoughts. He hadn't even realized you had walked back into the kitchen, covered in your own clothes this time. He gets up and sets his bowl in the sink next to yours, turning to face you.

“Sorry I was distracted.”

“That's okay, maybe you still need more rest. I was just saying I put the clothes I was wearing in the laundry basket in your room. I didn't have the chance to ask you last night but I hope you don't mind.” You sounded more like your usual self now, maybe had enough time to gather your thoughts when you were changing, but there was still an edge to your voice. It felt like you were putting on your polite voice with him, he really didn't like this.

“Anything of mine is yours, princess.” A bashful look falls over your face sending relief rushing through his body. This is the type of reaction he's used to, still he can't help but want to reassure you somehow.

Azriel grabs your hand before he has the chance to change his mind, though as you look up at him questioningly he knows he's doing the right thing. “You don't have to worry about Cassian or anyone else. We're going at our own pace and anything that happens between us is none of their business.”

You blink up at him for another few seconds, a look of understanding falling onto your face. “I wasn't worried,” you smile softly. It seems he was the one who needed the reassurance after all.

“Alright,” he squeezes your hand, his eyes dropping momentarily to your lips as is the usual these days. “Thank you for last night. You didn't even have to meet up with me, let alone babysit me all night.”

“You know you don't have to thank me for anything, Az.” You look down at his hand in yours, smile turning a bit shy. When you look up at him again, you reach up on your toes and press a soft kiss on his cheek, effectively taking his breath away. “I have to go now, but I'll call you later.” As soon as you drop his hand and move away from him, all he can think is how much he wants to pull you back into him.

taglist: @bookishbroadwaybish @sad-anxious-muffin @mika-no-sekai-blog @starwholistenanddreamsanswered @secretlyhers @evergreenlark @vermillionwinter @anuttellaa @lilah-asteria @tinymarklee @lupinswolfsbanes @therealmoonstone @rose-sinclaire23

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel fluff

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simpjaes · 1 day

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mdni. req by anon: pleaseeeeeee more innocent Jungwon with a dom Heeseung or Jake that gets jealous and ruins everything for him..like imagine Jungwon is finally going to lose his virginity to Y/N and Heeseung/Jake finds them in the act then decides to make him sit and watch how to do it correctly..

wc: 1.4k

tags: virginity loss, jungwon is jake's brother and jake is ur ex bf, reader is a whore we love her, voyeurism, exhibitionism

It’s not that he’s doing it wrong, it’s just that he doesn’t have the confidence to own the way he moves his body.

Jungwon, your favorite person in the world. Your ex boyfriend’s brother, who you simply couldn’t leave behind after the break up. Yeah, probably not an ideal situation you’re in right now but it’s still a situation that feels right.

Sure, hanging out at your ex boyfriend’s house was weird at first but all three of you just kind of got used to it after Jake realized there’s no getting rid of you for as long as he lives there with his brother. Exhausting? Yes. Annoying? So fucking annoying.

It’s not that Jake minds you being around. After all, he’s not the one who wanted to break up. You broke up with him. Imagine how he felt just four days after the break up, walking into his house and seeing you lounging on the couch as if he was still allowed to pounce on you. He couldn’t do that, of course. For one, because you’re not his girlfriend anymore, and secondly, because his bitch-ass little brother was always crowded up next to you on the couch.

You guys weren’t that close he originally thought. At least throughout your relationship with him, Jungwon was never clinging to you like this. So, really, Jake doesn’t mind being able to still see you. What he minds is the fact that you’re here to see his little brother, and it’s a bit…

Well…

It doesn’t sit very well with him when it comes to the way you now interact. Like, really? You’re gonna break up with him over some shitty excuse of “we just aren’t on the same path in life” only to run and cling to his little brother? As if Jungwon knows what path he’s on either? Hell, the guy only just chose his major after a full semester at your college.

Exhausting. That’s what the two of you are. And Jake tries his fucking hardest to not witness you when you’re over.

That is, until it becomes far too difficult. Until that pit in his stomach bubbles up with envy so draining that he can’t help but barge into the room.

“Like this?” Jake had heard his brother’s broken voice through the door that he should not have been listening through.

Hearing Jungwon sound like that isn’t exactly new. After all, he always sounds embarrassing when a girl is around. Jake really would have just rolled his eyes and went back to his room if it weren’t for what he heard next.

“Does it feel good when I do this?” Jake heard this time, Jungwon’s voice coming out in more of a breathy moan.

“Yeah, so good–” You responded with your own moan.

“Ah–it’s so warm–”

And for a split second, Jake wondered if maybe you guys were doing massages or something. Trying to make sense of why the fuck you’re in there moaning alongside his brother. Surely you’re not fucking him. Jungwon is a virgin as far as Jake’s concerned and…if he’s really about to lose it to you, that’s beyond crossing a boundary.

Both of you should know better.

So, naturally, Jake doesn’t even knock.

The door swings open with the force of a thousand suns as Jake stands there and connects the dots. Nope, no massages. Yep, that’s your legs spread around his brother. Oh, yeah. Okay. Wow.

Jungwon is no longer a virgin it seems, considering his cock is clearly nestled inside of you. All the way. He saw the jerky movements of his hips just before the two of you snapped your heads to him. He saw the way you clinged to Jungwon harder.

And the three of you just stare at each other, you frozen with your a piercing gaze on Jake, Jungwon’s cock plunged into you as deep as he can go, and Jungwon’s little pants because he can still feel you clenching around him and he’s really, really trying not to moan right now.

“Are you fucking joking?” Jake finally lets out, furrowing his brows and zeroing in on Jungwon. “You decided to lose it to her of all people?”

There’s silence for a long while as Jungwon tries not to moan out an answer, feeling both awkward and entirely aroused because you’re still so wet, you’re still holding onto him, you’re still clenching.

“And you’re not even making her feel good?!” Jake continues as his gaze falls to you.

It’s not that you look bored, or even that you were bored. It’s just, Jake knows how you are in bed. He knows you very well, and seeing you be more in control, guiding someone else is definitely not something he thought you were into. In fact, no matter how many times the two of you would fuck, you always acted like a fucking virgin. Like his cock hurt you every single time, like you couldn’t help but moan. You couldn’t help but babble incoherently. You couldn’t help but orgasm within the first five minutes.

It’s the fact that he never saw this side of you, and you’re giving it to his fucking brother while taking something away from him.

“Jake–” You manage to get out, so turned on beyond belief that you barely recognize how awful you look in this situation. Then again, you’re no longer dating Jake. It’s not like you clinged to Jungwon because you wanted him instead.

Jungwon is just…really cute and needy. Jungwon just needs some love. Jungwon was just nervous about this girl he’s supposed to meet this weekend and wanted to get some experience in.

Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for Jungwon, Jake could probably give less of a shit as to why you’re in here letting Jungwon fumble between your legs. If you’re gonna fuck anyone in this house, it’s gonna be him. You guys can fucking go outside otherwise.

“Move.” Jake says, now making his way toward the bed and practically shoving Jungwon out of you.

There’s a wet sound when he does that, Jungwon letting out both a pornographic and frustrated moan when he falls back. Jake spares no glance at him though, all he does is shove him further, all the way until he topples off of the bed.

You don’t really care whose hands are on you though. While you wanted to be this person for Jungwon and while you feel bad that he barely got to even start, you really, really don’t mind the familiar grasp of Jake. With the way he puts his hands on your knees and spreads your legs wide.

You blink up at him, seeing Jungwon peek at you from the edge of the bed as he keeps himself on the floor. Probably both intimated and embarrassed at what’s happening.

“I can’t believe you.” Jake announces now, leaning his face in between your legs and inspecting how stretched Jungwon managed to get you. “I can’t believe you got this wet over him.”

You roll your eyes, clenching hard just so Jake can see that you’re still just as needy as you’ve always been.

Jake sees it and squeezes his eyes shut with a frustrated sigh. Of course you’d do this. Of course you still want him, sexually, at least. And then he snaps around to look at Jungwon.

“If you ever try to fuck her again, at least make it count.”

Jungwon looks away and avoids eye contact. He knows Jake is pissed, not that he cares or anything. It’s not like he’s not allowed to be pissed off too. Jake really just walked into the room thirty seconds after he officially lost his virginity. Of course he’s not gonna be good at fucking yet.

And Just as Jake turns back to you, whipping his cock out and sliding his fingers down the length of it to stiffen up, Jungwon tries to get up and leave quietly.

No, no, no.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake asks through a seething breath, sliding into you with ease and a slight moan. “You’re going to sit right there and watch.”

Jungwon doesn’t know why he listens, but he does. He finds himself right back on the floor. His hands that were covering his cock slowly begin to palm when he keeps his eyes on you and the way you moan out for your ex boyfriend.

He’s not happy right now, but you. You turn him on. He wishes so much that it isn’t Jake here doing this, that’s his brother, after all. Still, he watches. And somehow, he learns.

#enhypen smut #jungwon smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours

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dabislittlemouse · 3 days

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“𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐞…”

Part 2 | Dabi x fem!Reader

CW: yandere themes, some mentions of noncon, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, complicated feelings, stockholm syndrome

SYNOPSIS: you are finally saved from the hands of your captor, who was now locked up, far away from you. But to this day, the memory of him still haunts you in your dreams, still so present in your life, still reminding you that you are his girl.

A/N: here the reader finally decides to read Dabi’s letters, we’re taking it slow guys ;)

Part 1 | REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Your hands rummaged through the mailbox to grab the letters that were sent from Tartarus. You stared at the envelopes, your chest suddenly feeling tight, for a second you were about to change your mind and throw them away. Though you felt something gnawing inside of you, the guilt and fear of ignoring Dabi, you felt like you were still obliged to him even if he was now locked away, technically out of your life. You must read those letters and you must reply back. You wouldn’t want to anger him would you?

“You know what happens when you make me mad..” Dabi would whisper in your ear, grabbing your wrist tightly. “Don’t get out of my eyesight, I won’t repeat myself twice.”

You vividly remember how that day he had taken you to the shopping mall, wanting to spoil you with nice things since you’d been so good to him lately. Though as you would go through the aisles, staring in awe at the variety of clothes and cute things you could buy, you forgot that you had separated from Dabi, when he had clearly told you not to go too far and wait for him.

“Shall I put ya on a leash and drag you around for you to finally understand?” he scoffed.

“I’m sorry” you mumbled. “I won’t walk away again”

First thing you would always do was apologize of course, because you knew how far Dabi would go. If he said something, he would actually do it. And you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his heinous acts. You remembered how tense you felt, if you had run away and called for help back then, would someone have helped you?

“No” Dabi’s voice echoed in your head. “They would ignore your pleas, leave you there to die, thinking that some righteous hero will come to save you soon. But they don’t care. This is what society has become, rotten to the core.”

This was what he was fighting against, to burn down the whole system, take down the corrupted heroes, and he would passionately talk about it with you, making you part of his bright future.

You shook your head off the thoughts taking over your mind, and opened the envelopes, grabbing the one of the letters.

“My pretty girl,

wonderin’ what you might be doing right in this moment as I write this. Have you been good? Are you inside your little apartment, watching those favorite TV shows of yours? Or are you outside, going to places that I don’t know of? Meeting new people, having fun and all that? Trying to create a new life after our separation, trying to fit back into society…

I bet you are. I wonder how that is going~

As for me, I am sitting here, losing count of days while being surrounded by these four walls 24/7. Kinda boring to be honest, nothin’ much happenin’ around here. You are all I think of baby, and the remains of your pretty face in my memories. My hands are itching to just grab at it and kiss it just how it deserves to be kissed. I gotta admit, this punishment is much worse than being locked up, it hurts a lot baby. Knowing that all this time you haven’t bothered to check on me once…damn, it really hurts a lot~

You like hurting me though don’t cha? I guess it’s fair, knowing the ways I’ve hurt you and marked your body all over. But you know that it was all out of love, right? That’s how I like to express it, just imagining what a piece of art your body looked like whenever you ended up on my hands baby..

Fuck it- even now as I think about it I’m aching, and your pretty mouth, that soft tongue could be the only solution to my problems~

Do you realise how much I crave you? Physically and mentally, look what you do to me princess. And the more you ignore me, the less that fire goes away. I guess distance strengthens relationships don’t you agree? I wonder how you’ve been feeling lately, do you miss me? Just a little bit? I bet ya do~

I miss you a lot. Terribly. I ain’t good with words so that’s how much I can express it. Y’know I’m mostly a man of actions, words don’t do it for me.

You can ignore me all you want, I won’t stop writing you. I know one day you will be sitting down to read these letters, because I know you feel the same fire inside of you that only I ignited. We are made for each other, you are just meant to be mine, never think otherwise.

Waiting patiently for a letter back. Make sure to put something in your envelope as well. A recent picture of you, your perfume, or maybe something else, y’know it~

Yours only,

Dabi.

For a while you stared into nothingness, only the sound of your heartbeats in your ears. The letter was clutched tightly on your hands.

“Fuck..” you whispered, before letting out a breathy laugh. You continued laughing to yourself, all while your eyes filled with tears. You weren’t sure if those tears were tears of anger, sadness, hopelessness, fear, love, maybe altogether.

You were terrified, that was certain. Terrified that he still hasn’t forgotten about you, nor given up on you. Terrified that he still thought that this fucked up relationship was true love, despite all the suffering you endured. Through all those sentences and words, you could feel as if Dabi was right in front of you, you could even hear his voice reading the letter for you. It’s like he had possessed you, like a demon that took place in your body and mind forever.

“This isn’t love..” you mumbled. “This is not love, this is NOT LOVE!”

You screamed at the letter, throwing it away.

“I hate you!” you finally burst into tears. “Why can’t you leave my life?! Why, why, why?!”

Why do I miss you like this?

Have you become addicted to the hurt and pain? Or maybe the way he would hold you close and kiss you and worship you right after he completely broke you, maybe you got addicted to that. You could only imagine his reaction if he knew what you’re feeling.

“Told ya so” he would say with a cocky smirk on his face and his cerulean eyes glaring at you hungrily. “Me and you are meant to be”

The rest of the letters pretty much held the same content, though the more he wrote, the filthier he got. It was clear that he craved you badly, as he sat there alone in the prison cell. You squeezed your thighs shut, swallowing nervously while your body remembered the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of you, always hitting that one special spot deep inside of you and making you see stars.

Apart from everything, Dabi was sexually frustrated. Hands just weren’t enough for the job, they could never replace the way your wet cunt wrapped so nicely around his aching cock. He was getting off on memories, every day and every night, bringing back on his mind the ways he would take you, softly or roughly, just as he pleased. He loved the way you screamed and cried and begged for him to stop, he got addicted to it, nothing and nobody else could even get him hard anymore.

“Do you still get wet for me baby?” Dabi wrote in one of the letters. “Do you play with yourself late at night while remembering the way I ate that pretty pussy of yours, slurping every remaining juice, licking that sweet clit.. I almost drool as I think about your flavor, need to quench my thirst so bad. Just need to dive in between those plush thighs of yours and devour you all damn night, until it gets too much and you start crying. And even then I won’t stop, cause y’know hearing you cry just gets me off real nice. Yeah I am sadistic like that, you already know it baby. And yet you like me just the way I am, you always feel that thrill, I can tell by the way your pussy fluttered each time I got my hands and fingers on it, each time I left marks on you, my little painslut”

Dabi was sure he had turned you into his little masochist, he trained you to cum only when he inflicted pain on you, and the pleasure mixing with it sent you over the edge.

You took all the letters and made sure to get rid of them, burning all of them until they were nothing but ashes. Though the words written in them never burned away, they planted themselves deep inside of you, not leaving your mind for the rest of the day. As the days went by, you decided to distract yourself as best as you could. Meeting your old friend, going out for a walk, going shopping, karaoke nights, watching movies, going for a drink, you name it. And yet you couldn’t shake off the feeling of emptiness, that in some fucked up way only that monster could fill. How could you be so terrified of someone and yet so addicted at the same time? You were sure it would pass as time went by, but it never did. Your body still held the memories of the past, the nasty burn marks were there, probably would stay there forever too. For some reason you found comfort at the old memories, at the old feelings, the abuse had become a familiar thing to you, and you wanted familiar. The outside world and its people, no matter how much you tried to fit in, it was all foreign, unfamiliar, you didn’t belong there.

You belonged to him only.

“Face your fears” someone used to say. “Once you bravely face your fears, they won’t haunt you anymore. Make it known that you don’t submit to them anymore, they don’t affect you anymore, they don’t scare you. And it will all go away”

Should you face Dabi? Should you tell him right to his face that things between you and him have ended forever, that you now are living a good life, happy, away from him? Would that be a lie? Yes.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me” Dabi used to say. “I can tell when you’re lying baby.. I hate liars”

***

“Two more weeks” the guard said, not turning to look at the prisoner. “The boss said we are at the last steps of preparation. We will finally get you out of here, sir”

Dabi nodded, exhaling the smoke of cigarette. “I am a patient man”

The guard continued. “One of our men informed me that the girl had called the prison yesterday, asking how the visiting hours worked in here”

Dabi quirked a brow, slowly turning his head towards the guard outside of his door. A grin creeped up his face, his eyes widening in pure thrill. “Is that so? Haa, m’getting excited now, seems like the little angel indeed misses me a lot”

He stood up, heading towards the door and peeking through the small window.

“Let me know as soon as she decides to come and visit. Must look decent in front of ‘er”

The guard chuckled.

“Of course, sir”

🏷️ tags: @hunajan @touyalove @murderous-snail @syrenkitsune @baby-tini

#B.writes #dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #dabi smut #bnha smut #yandere x reader #x reader #tw: smoking

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doofsevilinc · 3 days

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Let Me?

Art Donaldson x reader

Notes: suggestive, fwb-ish, non-tennis AU, university AU, polisci mentioned 😬 first ever work, comments/feedback appreciated 🗣️

Word count: 1k

A/N: sorry for blueballing mike faist call me

Summary: Political science can be a hard major. Everyone needs a distraction sometimes.

Now playing: Play Date - Melanie Martinez

“I’m walkin’ to your house, nobody’s home,

just me and you and you and me alone.”

——————————————————————

Art was so polite. When you first met through your polisci study group friends, he was the perfect gentleman. When you all would go out together, he’d hold the door for you, always pull out your chair when you came back to the table with drinks. You figured he was like that with every girl, your typical midwestern sweetheart.

You couldn’t have caught how his eyes lingered on you when you’d walk past him through the door, or how his eyes drifted downward while you chatted and passed out drinks. No one could. No one suspected it of him. He was too slick about it.

So when the rest of the group wasn’t available and he asked you to help him study for an upcoming test, you thought nothing of it. His roommate would be right next door anyway.

And it really was nice. It was enough to make learning about congressional oversight over the bureaucracy less excruciating. You two laughed a lot (he did at all of your jokes) and he’d smile so sweetly at you that it sort of gave you butterflies. Of course you wouldn’t object when he started only asking for you to study with. You figured it was because you were good at the subject anyway. It’s not like you weren’t getting something out of it too. You had to admit that you liked how he acted like your puppy. He’d do anything you asked, get you whatever snacks you wanted, ever the knight in shining armor. He really was a cutie, especially when got that embarrassed blush on his face hearing his roommate outside the door with the girls he brought back, or the constant EDM blasting from his room.

Midterms were coming up, and you were stressed. You were a high achiever, but studying for 5 classes was a lot to juggle. So of course you took up Art’s offer of a study/chill sesh at his dorm. You knocked, and he opened, wearing his red cap backward, another thing you thought was cute on him. You looked a little past him, noticing the silence. His roommate wasn’t there. Your eyes felt back on him and you noticed that this time he looked more… pensive. His eyes looked tired, his lips looked bitten on. You chalked it up to the time of year. You probably looked out of sorts too. As he held the door and you brushed past him, though, you could feel his eyes on you, stalking you like prey.

You were sat on his bed, and the lack of technobeats in the background made the air feel heavy. Things were more quiet this time as you two once again went through the motions of flipping through flashcards detailing factors affecting political efficacy. It almost felt tense. You weren’t so sure his roommate’s absence was entirely at fault. At some point you put them down and sighed, slumping against the wall.

“I can’t do this anymore. I just wish midterms were over. I feel like I haven’t relaxed in weeks.”

He was still upright, looking at you keenly.

“Yeah. Me neither.”

He put his cards down without taking his eyes off of you.

“I need a distraction. Just for a little. I just wanna stop thinking.”

He huffed in agreement, then paused. Now he looked down. Started biting his lips again. He swallowed.

“I could…help you with that.”

Maybe you were reading too far into the tension in the room, but your mind quickly darted to something…uncivil. Your stomach jumped before you regained your composure. …He was cute. It’s not like in your horny hellscape of a university you hadn’t thought about it before. You had no time for a relationship that could relieve your frustrations, something your major was known for, and which you and your single friends complained about often. It was starting to take a toll. Still, you took the thought out of your head. You just had a dirty mind. That’s not what he meant. He was gonna pull playing cards out of his pocket or something. You laughed a little, lightly, cautiously.

“What do you mean?”

He looked back up, eyes shining, piercing. His face grave, like when you’d came in. It made you feel almost too seen…almost naked. Almost like your minds had gone to the same place.

His eyes went down again, landing on his fingertips, which you hadn’t noticed had reached the edge of your thigh. In fact, you couldn’t focus on much outside of your heart beating in your ears.

“I just…I’ve been really stressed too. Really busy. I mean, the way we all are. Too busy to…you know…” He trailed off a little, his eyes crinkling in an embarrassed huff, softening his features. “And…you know what a good stress reliever is?”

He was hesitant, but the question was rhetorical. The way he said it was enough to give the answer. Your peers talked about their sexual frustrations enough that you knew it was on their minds too.

It was so still that you feared he could hear your heart beating out of your chest. You both being on the same page had caught you off guard.

His lack of silence caused him to backtrack, trying to read your face. “I mean, we always talk about not having time for dating and wanting hookups and stuff… I just figured since we know each other we could…I don’t know…lend each other a hand.”

You could feel your face getting hot, giddiness rising inside you. Seeing the small smile on your face, and how you watched his fingertips on their trail up your thigh, he seemed to relax.

You felt cheeky. He was into you. “So you wanna help me out?”

“…please?” His eyes turned pleading. “No one’s here.” He said softly, suggestively.

Your face turned even hotter. He was right. You were alone. No one would hear him putting you through the mattress like you’d tried not to imagine before. God, you were getting ahead of yourself. You nodded. He pulled away from you, and the vacant space he left on your thigh felt cold. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he got off the bed, kneeling, and settled between your legs.

He gazed up at you, looking more puppy-like than ever, his wide, desirous eyes a question — a desperate plea.

“Let me?”

#challengers #challengers x reader #challengers imagine #challengers x you #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #mike faist #mike faist x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson smut #challengers smut

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enwoso · 2 days

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SUNSHINE — alessia russo

*same universe as grumpy. i’ve had a lot of requests asking for more of grumpy so here’s another little one!”

alessia’s day started in a way she was not expecting or wanting and a lot earlier than she would have liked.

"mummy, mummy, wake up!" you shouted jumping on top of the blonde, as alessia lay still asleep. groaning at the sudden weight falling on top of her, rubbing her eyes before opening them to see you sat beaming with a big smile on your face.

"what are you doing up so early, lovie?" she asked, the room still being dark was a clear indication it was early as she rolled over to check the time on her phone. 6:44am was the time it displayed. "it's game day!" you cheered.

since arriving at camp, you had been really excited for the game against sweden. alessia was unsure of why you were but nevertheless she didn't want to dampen your enthusiasm, so she let you be excited. she much rather deal with you being overly excited then sit grumpy all day like a moody teenager.

"lovie, it's still early. why don't you go back to sleep for a few then we can go get breakfast when everyone else wakes up." alessia suggested not really asking more hoping that you would as the last thing she wanted was to be up all day.

your smile dipped a little, "why? me not tired anymore" you spoke quietly playing with the label on your blankie.

"c'mere" your mummy cooed, pulling you into her embrace and under her covers as you snuggled into her as she began to draw tiny little circles on your back. knowing that it wouldn't be long until hopefully you were back asleep.

after wiggling around a few times, you finally settled as alessia relaxed back into the sheets of her bed hearing your breathing begin to get heavier as you fell back asleep. alessia sighing as she knew this was going to be a long day.

after a long morning of you being overly excited and a small tantrum because you had decided to get yourself ready, an england shirt and shorts with your crocs, now alessia wouldn't of minded that outfit if you were on holiday or it was actually hot but it was the middle of end of march and still very cold in england.

however you had demanded that you were a 'big girl who can dress themselves' alessia finally had won the small battle of getting you to change the shorts by telling you that you could change into them later knowing you would most likely forget and alessia would save herself from you catching a cold. it was the small win, but a win nevertheless!

you were now about half the way to wembley on the bus and you had spent most the time watching your ipad much to your mums surprise as she thought you would get bored of watching it after a while.

you'd had a few little fusses and your mum had solved this by letting you out of your seat and giving you a few seconds to wander the isle of the bus which is exactly what you were doing now by chatting beth and mary's ears off about the film you were watching.

"and she becomes a ballerina" you told to two as they both nodded along as you told the story of the film, "mummy says i can start dance lessons!" you smile getting sidetracked as the two gasp as you look at the two with a frown.

"what?" you ask innocently your head cocking to the side slighting in confusion as the two look at each other shaking their heads.

"i'll pretend i didn't hear that!" mary whispers but still loud enough that both you and beth hear her as beth hums in agreement as your eye brows furrow further.

"that i'm starting dance lessons?" you ask a small smile appearing on your face at the thought of joining them it being something you had been asking your mummy about for a few days now.

"i thought you were joining the local football team" beth asks as you shake your head, "no, dancing!" you argued back.

the two older women turn to your mummy, "less! is she actually joining dancing?" mary asks as alessia looks around to see where the sound of her name was coming from before her gaze landed on mary and beth’s head peering over the seats on the bus.

alessia nodded, "after this camp yeah, don't worry it won't last long. it was gymnastics last month" your mummy told the two, saying the last part a little quieter.

it was true, you had begged alessia to let you do gymnastics for three weeks straight and when she finally took you to a session you told her after when she asked you if you enjoyed it that you didn't want to go back because turning upside down made you tummy feel weird.

"well let's just hope she hasn't inherited your two left feet then!" mary joked, looking to you who had returned to your seat next to alessia, as the blonde rolled her eyes at the goal keepers comment knowing she couldn’t exactly argue with the statement.

as the bus pulled into wembley, your excitement levels hit another level, your mummy carrying you into the stadium a huge grin on your face you it was getting more and more closer to the start.

“mummy look there’s stina!” you pointed to the swede as she waved to you before heading to the changing room with her team. “yeah lovie she’s playing with sweden today, cause that’s where she was born!” your mummy explained as you nodded slightly.

“so like i was born in england and im english that makes stina swedenish?” you asked as mummy looks as you with a small smile, “close lovie, stina is swedish” she corrected you as you nodded before feeling someone tap you on the shoulder seeing millie and ella behind you.

“hey!” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest - well trying to. “hey!” millie mocked you with a grin on her face as your frown deepened.

“oh don’t be all grumpy again, you’ve been little miss sunshine all day” ella commented as she poked at your side as the four of you got closer to the changing room.

“anyways who’s names on the back of ‘ere then?” ella asked pinching your england too you were wearing as alessia placed you down having reached the changing room, moving your coat to your shoulders to show ella, who sat on the bench letting your mummy begin to get ready for the match.

“my name!” you beamed as your back had ‘russo’ displayed on your back but instead of the number 23 you had four, for your age.

“i thought your name was y/n, not russo!” ella joked knowing what you meant but wanted to create a little joke to keep you entertained for a few moments to allow alessia to at least begin to get ready for the warm up.

“it is! russo my last name, like mummy silly!” you corrected ella, shaking your head as the brunette smiled.

“of course, silly me!” ella laughed as you did with her.

alessia had managed to get ready for the warm up as you sat playing with a small ball you had found back at the hotel and being with you, ella had given you a mission to try and see how many people you could nutmeg in the changing room, promising you a prize if you got a few people.

“gotcha!” you beamed, giggling a little as you rolled the ball through grace’s legs. hearing her gasp seeing the ball go through her legs making you giggle more.

“you little troublemaker!” she whispered with a smile, picking up your ball handing it back to you. “you’ve declared war now tiny!” she narrowed her eyes as you took your ball back looking for your next victim.

managing to get a few more people, including lotte, georgia and chloe before you heard mummy shouting your name.

“y/n!” mummy called you over as you ran back to her, as she sat you down on the bench in front of her. beginning the usual routine of telling you that you had to be on your best behaviour sitting on the bench, and to tell whoever you were sat with if you needed anything. you always sitting still, nodding you head along to each thing your mummy said.

"and remember you must stay with leah, okay?" your mummy reminded you, as kneeled down to your small height as she tugged your coat back onto your shoulder before finding the bottom of it and zipping it back up, to ensure that you didn't get cold while sitting in the dugout.

"yes mummy" you beamed, looking around the changing room as the rest of the girls were beginning to get ready to walk out. "are you gonna score today?" you asked, as alessia laughed a little.

"i will for you" the blonde smiled, as you cheered a little before embracing your small frame in a hug as she kissed your cheek. "good luck mummy!" you smiled, the blonde smiling too as you both pulled away from the hug.

"off you go, look, leah's waiting for you!" alessia pointed over to where leah was, standing in the doorway of the changing room. "bye!" you sung out, blowing kisses to your mum until you got to leah who scooped you up and walked you to the dug out.

you watched as your mummy walked out with the rest of the girls cheering your mummy's name as she waved at you at the end of the anthem singing, blowing you a quick kiss before she ran to her starting place on the pitch. you stood tall on the dugout seat. leah holding onto you to make sure you didn't fall.

the sound of the whistle went and leah helped you to sit back down in your seat wrapping a blanket around your legs to stop the cold london air getting to you as you helped to cheer them on.

you were no stranger to sitting with leah on the bench or in the stand when your mummy played for arsenal, the defender often watching you while your mummy played as when was not allowed to play because of a big ouchie on her knee.

you had helped leah making her knee better by putting a peppa plaster on it one day, the blonde admitting it had made it feel a lot better leaving you feeling very accomplished.

but one thing leah did like to do while the girls were playing was talk, she often helped you understand what was going on. but sometimes the blonde would begin to ramble and start with some really technical words and you think she would sometimes forget your only four and didn’t have a clue what she meant.

she often said that some of the front line, like the likes of hempo were a fox in the box but you didn’t know what she meant by that because there isn’t a fox even there nor a box which would leave you confused but you didn’t want to upset your auntie leah by not knowing what she meant as mummy had told you it not kind to upset people so you let her ramble on.

you knew that if the team your mummy was on was scoring then that was good thing and that was good enough for you.

“pass it g, that’s it! keep pushing forwards!” leah was mumbling to herself as the girls pushed towards the sweden goal, it landing in alessia’s feet as she smashed it into the back of the net not without falling on the ground.

you watched intensively your fingers in your mouth, along with leah as you were sat on her lap as she shot up with you in your arms, the two of you cheering for your mummy.

the rest of the game went a little boring for you, no team scored anymore after sweden equalised and your mummy came to sit on the bench with you during the second half of the game and before you knew it you were finally aloud on the pitch.

as mummy and her teammates walked around waving to the stranger in the stands, you running along side with your little ball again trying to see if you could nutmeg anymore people before trying to beat mary and get the ball into the back of the net.

“watch me gee, mummy” you yell, as they stop their walking around the pitch to watch you. you line up the ball and step back and run and kick it as mary moves the opposite way to the ball is going as you cheer and run to where your mum and gee were standing copying the same jump and first bump in the air that your mummy always does when she scores.

“did you see that mummy? gee?” you ask as you run up to them, your mum picking you up in the arm to two beaming with smiles and excitement just as you were.

“that was amazing tiny!” georgia cheers, holding her hand up for you to high five as you did slapping georgia’s hand.

“your getting so good at scoring lovie” your mummy complimented, kissing your forehead as you saw mary jogging over to the three of you. “that was a perfect goal tiny!” mary said ruffling your hair as you gave her a stern look resting your head on your mummy’s shoulder.

“see that was so much cooler than doing a dance lesson!” mary smiled as alessia looked over shaking her head at the goalkeeper a small laugh coming from georgia.

“mary! i’m trying to encourage her to try new things!” alessia scolded as mary shrugged her shoulders as the four of you walked back to their others.

the three began to talk but all you could heard was boring adult talk as your eyes were beginning to feel tired probably from all the running around you had done. having your blankie snuggled up to you, before alessia got to the tunnel you were asleep.

the blonde picking up your little backpack in her hand, as she walked down the tunnel with beth. “is that her down for the count?” beth asked as alessia nodded moving the hairs from your face to behind your ear.

“yep, it’s hard work being four and being and sensational footballer and dancer at the same time!” alessia joked shoving beth a little who rolled her eyes at the comment mumbling something about how you would learn to love football just like your mum.

“oh how i dread to imagine!”

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buckboi · 2 days

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Angsty Little Coda to 7.6 because I couldn’t get the look on Margaret Buckley’s face out of my head but don’t worry it has a happy ending

*Now edited and on Ao3*

G / 1k / TW for bad parents

“Evan, have you got a moment?”

Five words from his mother and Buck falls off cloud nine and crashes back to nineteen years old.

But Chimney’s alive and okay. Maddie’s glowing beside him in her gown. Everyone’s chatting and eating the overpriced (but admittedly delicious) wedding cake. It feels like a family gathering, and Buck won’t cause a scene in front of his family.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. Tommy gives his hand a gentle squeeze. Says I’ll be right here with just his eyes. Buck squeezes back, and follows his mom into the corridor.

“Come here.” She pulls a tissue from her pocket with one hand, grabs his chin with the other and starts wiping away the soot Tommy had left on his face when they reunited. “So. What’s all this then?”

It’s a trap, he knows.

“What’s all what?” he deflects.

“All this.” She waves her hand at his face, then towards the hospital room where Tommy is visible through the glass door. “You’re an adult now, Evan. I thought you knew better than to upstage your sister on her wedding day.”

Oh great. Accused of doing exactly what he’s trying not to do. It would be funny if it wasn’t frustrating.

“Second wedding,” he mutters under his breath. Just because Maddie was happy to forgive her parents for missing the first one, doesn't mean Buck has to let it go too.

“Excuse me?”

“I said she knows,” he corrects. This is a happy day. Chim is alive. Maddie is beautiful. Tommy is waiting for him. Things are good. He’s not arguing with his mother. “Maddie. I told her about Tommy weeks ago. She was the first person I told, actually. And she told me to bring him to the wedding, if I wanted to. The only one here who seems to have a problem with it is you.”

His mom scoffs at that, and lets go of his face.

“I’m not homophobic.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I just don’t think it’s right, springing it on your father like that.” She tuts at him. Like he’s nineteen, fifteen, twelve, eight years old. He almost liked it when she was disappointed in him. At least she was paying attention. “He’s getting older. His heart.”

“You think me having a boyfriend is going to give dad a heart attack?” He laughs at the absurdity of it all. “Do you think we should get him outta that room before he realizes Hen and Karen are lesbians?”

“Evan.” How she manages to say his name with some much judgment when she’s the one who names him, he’ll never know. “It’s different. When you find out your own child has been lying to you for years. And all those girls you’d string along...”

She looks hurt, but not angry, which is its own kind of fucked up. It’s not fair. She doesn’t get to be sad about this.

Not when things are finally feeling good, and safe, and right. When Tommy feels right.

“I wasn’t lying.” It’s maybe more of the truth than she deserves.

“I don’t see how that can be true if you’re gay.”

“Well I’m bi, actually. And I only just-“ he scrubs a hand over his face, probably spreading the soot around worse. “It’s a recent development, okay? That’s why people didn’t know. ‘Cause it’s new. And Tommy and I are taking it slow.”

“I suppose that’s a first for you too, Evan?” she snipes and it’s goddamn unfair because who is she to ask him that? To judge his life when she’s never so much as pretended to take an interest in it?

He has options, now. He could storm off. He could say something worse. He could say something worse, something about dead children and how they can’t disappoint you like the ones who are still alive and then storm off.

She’s not worth it, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Eddie, and Bobby; like Maddie, and Chim, and Hen, and Tommy.

Like someone who actually cares about him.

“Can we just… not?” he asks, and for a second Buck thinks she might actually refuse. Might force the point, but she lets out an unnecessarily weary sigh and nods. “Can’t we go back to the party, and enjoy what’s left of the day?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want that?” Buck doesn’t even attempt to answer that one. “Just let me get you looking respectable again and we can go back.” She grabs at his face once more.

“Buck! Chim wants you back for a team photo,” Maddie says, bursting out of Chimney’s room in a cloud of tulle. Just in time to witness his humiliation. Great. “Aww, you’re wiping it off?”

“Of course he is,” their mom says. She’s scratching at his face with the tissue. Speaking for him like he can’t answer on his own. “It’s your wedding, Maddie. I won’t let him show you and Howard up.”

Buck takes a deep breath and smiles thinly as his sister furrows her brows.

“Oh, well, Chim said he wanted a photo with your face all dirty.” She laughs sweetly, and grabs Buck’s arm. “He wants to capture every detail of the day.”

“Oh,” Buck says eloquently as he lets his sister pull him back into Chimney’s room. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she assures him.

“No it isn’t,” Chim cuts in from his bed. “Tommy, again. I want that photo!”

And Buck laughs, because it’s silly, and because he knows his family loves him. He asks, “Do we have to?” not because he doesn’t want to, but because it’s Maddie and Chim’s day, and he never wanted to steal their spotlight, even for a moment.

“Oh absolutely you do, Mister,” Maddie tells him, with just enough tease that he knows she wouldn’t force it if he protested. “Our wedding, our rules.”

Buck has no interest in protesting, instead he turns towards Tommy, who’d been a shockingly good sport about this. Buck’s sure he’s exhausted; probably desperate to get back to his apartment and shower off the day. Kinda wants to join him there if he’s being completely honest with himself.

“Well?” Tommy asks, interrupting his steamy fantasy.

Buck bites his lip like he's a teenager again.

“Hi.”

“H-“ Buck interrupts Tommy’s reply with his lips, far softer than before.

He’ll never ask how his mom reacted - whether she rolled her eyes, or pursed her lips or looked, even for a moment, proud of him - but Buck’s family cheers and jeers and whistles their support.

And he feels free.

#is it silly and indulgent? yes!! this is the being silly and indulgent website #911 spoilers #911 abc #evan buckley #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #tommy kinard #um i will edit & ao3 this later ok i gotta get back on the floor lol

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