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bwskj · 28 days ago

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NSFW MDI | jjk x reader

- jjk characters reacting to u asking them on call for a moaning audio -

chars: gojo, nanami, megumi, sukuna, yuuji, inumaki

notes: (text) are you; bulleted + written

tags: honestly just a lot of nsfw stuff, pls x away if ur a minor or uncomfy

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

gojo

— “baby what?”, he laughs amused, “did you just say you want me to send a moaning audio?”

— you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “ah baby, well i could do that… just not for free. give me something to look at and i’ll make it, how about that?”

output: bro sends a hand held video of him jacking off while sitting on the living room couch. a part of his laptop sitting on the coffee table with your photo/video on it is shown in the upper half of the video, behind the main character that is his thick hard cock. satoru likes talking as if you’re there kneeling in front of him, pretending he’s got your face to tap his dick on before he fully wraps his hand around the girth and starts pumping. he often groans low with the occasional sharp inhales through gritted teeth. eventually, he gets to the point wherein he’s leaking so much pre-cum it’s enough to help him make big smooth strokes over his length. his camera angle ends up wonky sometimes because he’s too zoned in jerking off to you. “fuckkk baby, god you’re so—hot” and “shit… that’s mine, that fucking pussy belongs to me.” he sure loves his dirty talk, “bet you wanna ride this huh, baby? want your tight pussy walls sucking up my cock.” when he finally cums, you can tell he’s trying his best to not hold in his moans (cause ofc that’s what you’re looking for). his thighs tense, spreading apart as his cum shoots up high, loud groans with every shot that spatters all over his bare stomach. he aims the camera down at his messy torso, laying his dick on it as he swipes it across the mess around and on his happy trail. “you better lick this clean off, baby.”

nanami

—“excuse me? a what?” (you repeat yourself)

—hunched over his desk at work, he says, “honey i… don’t do that,” he sounds concerned that you would ask for such thing, “do you need it for… something?” you can imagine the stitch in his brow when he asks this.

— (you reply with a vague and teasing “maybe”) kento lightly huffs, seeming slightly bothered (?)“well, i’m busy right now… just… wait until i get home.”

output: no audio but what did you expect he was at work! not like he would do it though if he wasn’t. instead, on the way home, he’s got one thing on his mind. the thought keeps bubbling up in excitement, making him tap his foot in impatience as he rides the elevator up to your shared apartment. when you hear the jangle of his keys in the doorknob, you spring up from where you’ve been rotting. a smile immediately appears on your face when you see your boyfriend looking even more dashing with the appearance of a man who’s worked hard all day at work. “you’re home, i—“ you’re about to tell him you’ve missed him but he cuts you off when he closes the distance, leaning in and catching your lips with his. he drops his work bag on the floor as the big palm of his hand slides onto your back. he pulls you close, not giving you the chance to speak anymore as his deep hungry kiss keeps your mouth busy. you manage to make at least the sound of, “mphh.. Kento!” when his lips pull back a bit. you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back, his jaw and shoulders feeling rigid when your hands feel over them. “couldn’t wait to get home,” he mumbles when his mouth detaches for a second — basically, yea, he fucks you pretty much the whole night or until you can’t take any more. everything he does is meant to please you; he thrives on giving you, his pretty princess, what you want, feeling fulfilled when he knows he can keep you more than satisfied.

sukuna

— “the fuck? a moaning audio? why would i do that?

— he stretches his jaw, the eyes on his cheeks fluttering a little eye roll. he speaks into the mic at a low volume, “baby if you miss being dicked down just say so…”

— “uhuh yea, keep pretending you don’t want it til you’ve got this cock in your mouth, right? stay put. i’m coming over”

output: no moaning audio. he gets to your place in 10 minutes (how the fuck he got there that quick you’ll never know). when you greet him at the door, mouth ajar in surprise, you can’t stop yourself from cheekily saying, “well, isn’t somebody excited?”

“i wanna know what the bitch who’s asking for an audio sounds like when she gets what she actually wants,” he cockily spits out as he looms over you by the still open door frame.

your eyes widen at his response but you can only stutter before his hand is suddenly holding you by your throat. he welcomes himself in, shutting the door behind him while you almost stumble back into your hallway. your hands instinctively reach to grab at the back of his hand around your neck. not even a second later and his other hand grabs one of yours, tugging it and placing it over the tent in his pants. his fingers sandwiched around your neck begins to squeeze and you accidentally sound out a moan. you can feel his sharp nails pricking your nape. his hand holding yours guides you into palming him. a dark smirk is on his face. “i’m fucking hard. do something about it.”

long story short: he rails you (on your bed, in front of the mirror, doggy style or just backshots in general— he loves pinning your wrists behind you and watching your tits bounce everytime he pounds into you. when you’re on top, he doesn’t even give you the chance to ride him on your own). “how you liking this, huh? sweet little slut. you like this fat cock fucking your stomach? isn’t this better than some shit tease through the phone?”

megumi

— his cheeks warm when he hears the words through the phone, “what’s that?” He asks though he knows full well what you mean (i think megumi would be a secret tumblr user).

— you carefully explain it to him. there’s hesitation in his voice when he says, “oh, i see…”

— alarmed by the way his voice trailed off, you reassure him that he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.

— he replies with a slightly stammered okay and the call eventually awkwardly ends with exchanged ‘i love you’s and ‘talk to you later’s

— you feel slightly embarrassed for voicing your request but it’s not long before you forget about it. it was worth a shot.

— that night, while you’re snuggled up in your cozy blanket, you receive a single voice note from megumi with no message attached

— megumi blushes as he stares at the file he just sent, wondering if he did it okay. you don’t know that he jack offed and recorded not even five minutes after your call ended.

output: when you press play you’re immediately met with the semi-distant sounds of megumi’s shaky gasps and breathy low moans. it looks like he sent you a recording of the most interesting part of his session wherein wet stroking sounds are being picked up by his phone. there’s oftentimes soft whimpers that slip through, the noise of his bed covers shifting on his skin almost overpowering it when he gets more and more into fucking his hand (or whatever he’s slotting his dick through). you have to replay it a couple times to make sure you heard right—pride blooming within you when you’re certain he’s whimpering and mumbling out your name. his moans rise in pitch and grow more rugged the closer he gets to his climax. “a-ah… mm—hah.. gonna c-cum,” you can hear the strokes getting faster and the sheets being gripped tight. when he cums, he gets even louder, noisy staggering moans falling out his mouth. you just know his throbbing dick is thrusting up while chasing his high. when it dies down, you can hear soft panting and then the sound of his phone being picked up. there’s a silent pause before his voice comes through low and crisp, “i… hope you liked that.”

yuuji

— “a what audio??”, he laughs, “you’re kidding!” His laugh fades when he realises you aren’t.

— “wait seriously, you’re into that? like those audios on reddit or something?”

— (“… you know those?” you ask curiously.)

— yuuji gets flustered, he stutters, “i-i don’t—I accidentally came across them once. kinda freaked me out, ngl…”

— (“freaked you out?”)

— “yea, i dunno, never imagined guys to be doing that for a living. and i didn’t know there were girls who especially liked that.”

— (“really… well a lot of girls actually like that. but yea, i guess you wouldn’t really know, cuz you know,” you lightly tease.)

— yuuji rubs a hand over his blushing cheek, “you don’t have to keep reminding me that you’re my first…”

— (he always reacts like this and so you remind him again [you love reminding him], “sorry my yuuji, but you know, i love being your first, especially knowing that my competition is literally THE jennifer lawrence.”)

— you can hear the smile yuuji is trying to keep down, “and your 100x better than her,” (honestly, you just tease him to hear him say this again)

— (“so what about that audio?”)

— “hm?” yuuji didn’t even realize it until now that he’s got a hand over the boner jutting through his boxers

— you quickly reassure him that he can say no if he doesn’t want to. there’s a silence that hangs for a moment in the call, and when you’re about to say something again to dismiss the topic, he starts, “could you… maybe, talk me through it?”

output: you piece together that yuuji’s turned on. “are you… hard rn?” your voice comes gentle through the phone and yuuji grabs his dick stronger through the cloth, pushing his palm against it. he shudders, “m-maybe.” your voice sounds so good.

“are you…” you trail off, but yuuji knows what you mean. he quickly replies, “is this okay? you can tell me if it’s not, i-i’ll stop.” yuuji doesn’t want to stop but he’s stiffened his hand on his dick to try to stop himself from touching further without your consent.

there’s another short pause before you say, “mm, it’s okay, yuuji… you need help?”

“mhm,” he hums, instantly resuming his hand movement. there’s slight guilt when he clears his throat and says, “s-sorry our call kind of—went in another direction, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I can—“

your laugh cuts him off, “sweetie it’s okay. i’d like to help. we’ll hit two birds with one stone since i wanted an audio anyway.”

yuuji blushes even harder. “I… I’ll try to not… hold it in.”

you grin, biting at your lip as you lay in your bed with your phone planted on your ear. “Good… you’ll give me what i want hm?”

Yuuji’s breaths are beginning to tremble as he continues to rub himself to the sound of your voice. “y-yea, for you… i’ll do what you want.”

it gets more serious when yuuji finally takes his dick out his boxers and starts pumping it up and down; it’s almost fully hard. he loves it when you ask him what he’s doing, what he’s thinking about. his moans start off quiet but when you tell him you wanna hear him, his voice breaks and he lets a louder sound come out his throat. “can you imagine your hand as my hand, or my mouth?” you ask him. at this point your thighs are squeezed together and you can feel the wetness pool in your panties. this makes yuuji moan even louder.

after a couple minutes of this teasing dirty talk, yuuji can’t take it anymore and the needy words, “fuh… i… i want to see you. c-can i?” slip out of his mouth.

it turns into a video call after the both of you move to transfer to your laptops. you can see yuuji’s tip peeking from the bottom edge of the screen. his shirt is on and it’s lightly sticking to his skin, likely because he’s starting to sweat. when you turn on your camera, your pretty face comes into view and you’re in the usual clothes you wear at home: loose shirt, no bra, panties. you can instantly tell yuuji’s back to jerking himself, though you can’t see his whole hand or his face at all.

“let me see you, sweetie,” you say, hand digging between your sticking thighs and going over your clothed crotch.

his movement slows, “shit, you wanna see me?” he sounds embarrassed. you nod. yuuji is obviously reluctant, but he listens, repositioning his laptop further so it captures his face and dick in hand. you feel yourself throb at the sight.

it isn’t long before you’re touching your bare pussy in front of the camera, tits out on display. you’re lewd and so is yuuji, now more confidently moaning as he pleases himself to you. between your own sounds, you softly say, “gosh my pretty baby. you’re doing so well,” knowing how your boyfriend is secretly a sucker for praise. yuuji groans, body jerking as his face flushes even redder. “will you come for me?” you say. you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

yuuji’s a moaning needy mess, the hand not on his dick pinning the hem of his shirt high up. “fuugh… y-yes… yes for you. I’ll come… i’m about to—about… agh—“

yuuji’s hand pumps the tip fast and he cums strongly, head bowing as his hips thrust up and he shoots white. “Ah~ oh~,” he’s shaky and noisy all the way through his high. when he finally lifts his head up to look at you, you’re sweetly smiling (you came watching him cum but he missed it ://). you stare at one another for a moment before the both of you let out (somewhat nervous) laughter.

yuuji pats sweat off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, careful not to have the other covered in his own cum go near his bed sheets. “gosh, you’re good. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you beam. “and i’m so lucky to have such a pretty, handsome boyfriend. you did great.”

he shyly looks away, biting on his lip to suppress a smile, “thank you.”

inumaki

— you text him asking for a moaning audio (unless u want inumaki to go tuna tuna at u on call lmao)

— “?”

— “how do i make that?”

— you send him a voice note explaining what kind of audio it is, making sure to tell him he doesnt have to do it if he doesnt want to

— “…”

— “okay…”

— “i totally thought you wanted to hear me in pain and i was… concerned.”

— (“??? baby pls no?!)

— “thank god”

— there’s a pause in the chat

— “i would send if i could.”

— (“wdym? if you don’t feel comfortable about it it’s okay maki”)

— “no… um”

—(“?”)

— “i don’t really get hard unless ur here.”

— (you stare at his message before sending an “oh !”)

— “yea… nothing else does it for me. sorry.”

— (you’re both blushing and stricken by his response. “no baby don’t be sorry TT you don’t need to do this. i can always hear you in person.”)

— “sure?”

— (“yes for sure TT”)

— “:p i’ll make those sounds for you next time if you really like them.”

output: next time you see each other, it starts off as usual. a casual date outside before going back to his place for nightly cuddles and eventually… that. it’s clear inumaki remembers you’re conversation without you having to bring it up. he’s nervous at first (he’s always been pretty quiet mostly because he’s mindful of using his voice), and you see it in his eyes. “just let it out okay? it’s just me here,” you whisper when you softly kiss under his neck, a little shy as well. soon, when you’re kissing, touching, and sucking him all over, his moans are tiny sharp inhales and whimpers rising up his throat; they come out somewhat muffled because of his closed mouth. since he can’t really risk saying anything, he’ll tell you that he feels good with a hand combing through your hair or a thumb caressing your skin. he’ll buck up into your throat when he cums, his mouth accidentally opening to sound out a breathier vocal moan. when you pull up, wiping your mouth after swallowing, he doesn’t hesitate to pull your face close, kissing you sweetly. you know it’s his way of saying ‘thank you. i love you.”

—— <3

a/n: wrote smth diff today (context: i usually write leon kennedy stuff) these are just my headcanons so i’d love to hear what u guys think! xoxo i had sm fun writing this hehe

also, can u guess who my fav char is? (it’s not the one with the longest part— mb that some are longer than others, idk how to stop smtms)

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hannieehaee · 8 months ago

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18+ / mdi

content: loser!cheol, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), eating out, face riding, u can either assume they're in a relationship or just fwb, etc.

wc: 1378

a/n: someone requested this at some point so im here to deliver 🫡 if u guys are interested in more from this couple lmk<3

part 1 , part 2, part 3

masterlist

"f-fuck, don't stop," seungcheol breathed out, glasses foggy from his heavy breathing.

you took this as a green light to increase the pace of the bobbing of your head, taking more and more of him each time. occasionally, you would envelop the tip of seungcheol's cock between your lips, sucking lightly as you looked up at the pretty boy.

"it's so good, fuck, s-so good," he kept on groaning, hands digging on the bed he was sitting on, making a mess of the sheets.

it had been a few weeks since your chance encounter at jeonghan's party – an encounter jeonghan had fully orchestrated in order to rid seungcheol of his virginity. ever since then, you and seungcheol became inseparable, with you making it your mission to make the pretty boy cum any time you got him alone.

today you had showed up at his frat house unannounced, knocking on his door and immediately pushing him in when he had let you into his room. attacking him with a depraved kiss, he became weightless under your touch, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to him.

seungcheol's life had greatly improved ever since he met you. not only did he have a gorgeous girl completely obsessed with making him lose his composure, but he had also found a friend in you. the two of you would often hang out together, sharing many things in common. except that most of your get togethers would end with seungcheol's balls completely empty and a satisfied look on your face.

after sucking his cock almost to completion, you disconnected your lips from it, moving onto his balls to lick and suckle at them, something you knew drove seungcheol crazy.

you looked so pretty beneath him, completely addicted to his cock. there was clearly nothing in your mind at the moment that wasn't seungcheol's pleasure. to this day, he wasn't quite sure what you saw in a guy who was as inexperienced as him. he was yet to ever eat you out or finger you, never getting the chance as you were always the first to jump him (and maybe he was too shy to initiate anything on his own – he just didn't want to disappoint you and ruin the thing you two had going).

so far, the two of you had sex many times (you always on top), and you'd allowed him to make out with your tits a few times. other than that, seungcheol had the great pleasure of feeling either your hands or your lips wrap around his cock as he cried your name. surprisingly, he was not embarrassed of how pathetic he sounded any time you touched him, how easily he gave in to you. seungcheol could tell you liked the effect you had on him, so he was liberal about letting you know how much he enjoyed your touch.

when you finally made him cum, sucking his balls while your hands handled his cock, he threw his head back, chanting your name in low breaths, occasionally interrupted by uncharacteristically high whines. your mouth enveloped his cock once again to swallow his cum, moaning around his cock and letting your eyes roll back at the taste. whether you were playing up your reactions to get seungcheol to lose his mind or not, he ate it all up, ego inflating at how much you enjoyed giving him pleasure.

climbing on top of his nude body, you laid your skirt-covered crotch above his own, gasping when you accidentally felt his now flacid cock under you. catching his lips in a steamy kiss, you began whining against his lips when your hips began gyrating against his. despite still being incredibly sensitive, his cock began hardening again, though the feeling of your grinding still felt incredibly intense to him.

"can i have you like this, cheollie?", you murmured against his lips, "hmm? does it hurt, baby?"

he nodded, answering both your questions at once. it hurt so good to feel your almost-bare cunt grinding against his cock despite the intense sensitivity of it at the moment. his hands grabbed onto your hips, grinding you even harder against him.

crying against your lips, he begged for more, barely able to follow your lips in a kiss despite wanting to so badly. luckily for him, you continued to lick and kiss at his lips despite his constant cries against your own.

"h-hurts so good, fuck. please ... y-your cunt, i-"

"my cunt? you want it, angel?"

"yes, please! w-want it on my face. wanna- wanna lick it so bad."

you gasped against his lips, moaning at the thought.

"oh, cheollie ... wanna lick it? fuck, can i sit on your face, pretty? hmm? can i make you cum and then sit on your pretty face?"

your grinding never halted, only becoming faster and harder as he spoke against your lips.

tears fell from his eyes, glasses fully foggy by now as he nodded against your lips. your hands went up to wipe his glasses with the fabric of your skirt, bringing them back up to his eyes with a sweet peck to his lips.

his cock was fully hard by now, and you were far too desperate to wait for him to cum through mere dry humping, so you dipped your hand between your bodies and wrapped it around him, speed too fast for him to even comprehend before his high took over him once more.

you praised him through his orgasm, as you usually did, telling him what a good and pretty boy he had been for you. but then your desire took over, making you rip off the remaining of your clothing and sit back on his lap.

seuncheol whined at the sight of your bare body. despite having seen it far too many times by now, he couldnt help but be obsessed with it. even on days when he had already had you, he'd think of you when his hand wrapped around himself late at night. sometimes he'd look at pretty pictures you'd send him – pictures that had him losing focus when he thought back to them in the most inconvenient moments possible.

when he tried to grab at your body like he usually did, you lightly slapped his hands away, giggling at him, "cheollie, gonna sit on your face now, okay?"

"i- i don't know what to do ... want it so fucking bad, but-"

you shushed him, pressing a peck to his lips after. smiling at him, you reassured him.

"it's okay, cheollie. just ... just lick, yeah? you'll know what to do, i promise," and with that, you removed his glasses and climbed up his body, ass on his face as you arched your back for him.

he groaned at the sight – which lasted far too little for his liking. you lowered yourself on him and it was like an animal took over his senses. you had been right, his body knew exactly what do do.

his strong arms held onto your hips, bringing your cunt as close to him as humanly possible. the proximity was practically suffocating him, but he didn't care. he licked and sucked and groaned at your cunt, almost unable to hear your own cries at the feeling.

"cheollie! fuck ... it's so good, 'sso fucking good," you mirrored his earlier words.

before long, you began grinding against his face, using him for your own pleasure. and he happily let you, moaning like crazy at the thought of the pleasure he was giving you. at some point, you began doing most of the word, even angling yourself so his nose would nudge against your clit while his tongue explored the rest of your cunt.

he claimed your orgasm like this, rendering you a limp version of yourself as you weakly crawled away from him snd let yourself fall on the bed.

his face was ruined with your cum, but he had licked as much as he could out of you. wiping it carelessly with a nearby rag, he went over to you, holding you as you laid on his bed.

"you learn so quickly, cheollie," you smiled at him, satisfied look on your face.

"you're going to kill me," he said as he put his glasses back on, making you giggle.

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furuu · 1 month ago

Note

It can either be Tiger Sukuna or True form Sukuna. But, can you write something where Sukuna and reader playful chasing each other around the palace?

Sukuna can obviously grab her at anytime and they both know that, but it’s the fun of the game for the two.

Thank you! Remember it’s no rush and take as much time as needed!

𐔌 . ⋮ The echo of your laughter bounced off the high walls of Sukuna’s palace as you dashed around yet another corner, your heartbeat racing with exhilaration. His footsteps—purposeful and heavy—followed you closely. You knew he could catch you whenever he wanted; his long strides, his speed, and those extra arms meant you stood no real chance. But you also knew he loved the thrill of this little chase.

“Running again?” he called, his deep voice booming through the halls with a playful edge. “I didn’t think you had the nerve to try it twice.”

You grinned, a quick glance over your shoulder revealing his towering form just steps behind you, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement. The flick of his fourth arm stretching toward you made you squeal as you took a quick detour down the next corridor.

“Almost got you!” His voice was closer now, teasing, his grin stretched wide with excitement.

He chuckled, and you could hear the thrill in it, the enjoyment that came from indulging in a playful chase he could end whenever he pleased. “I think I’ll give you a little head start. You’re so eager to flee, after all…”

You took his words as an invitation, picking up your pace, your legs carrying you through familiar corridors. But as you darted through Sukuna’s massive palace, it became clear his pace had quickened. You felt the whisper of air near your arm as one of his hands almost grazed you, and you yelped, ducking around a pillar in an attempt to evade him.

With a sudden leap, Sukuna appeared in front of you, his hulking form blocking the hallway. “Where were you going?”

You took a breath, heart racing as you met his eyes. “Away from you...!”

Sukuna tilted his head, his gaze dark but softened by amusement. “Is that so?”

You could feel the vibration of a deep, rumbling growl as the monstrous mouth etched across his stomach, curled into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. As Sukuna leaned closer, his upper eyes narrowed with mischief, but it was the mouth on his stomach that made a low, eager sound, almost like a playful, guttural laugh.

“You didn't honestly think you could've escaped me.” Sukuna’s voice was tinged with amusement, but the mouth below spoke with its own eerie cadence, baring its jagged teeth in a mock snarl.

The mouth on his stomach seemed to grin wider as he drew you in, as though equally entertained by the chase, its rough tongue tracing over its teeth with an amused snicker. You let out a playful huff, cheeks flushed from the thrill of running. “You’re just too slow to keep up,” you teased, glancing at both his face and the mouth, which growled at the playful jab.

“Oh?” Sukuna smirked as he pulled you firmly against his broad chest. The lower mouth snickered, its eyes gleaming as if fully intent on keeping you from ever escaping his grip again.

With all four arms around you, he leaned close, nipping your ear as his stomach mouth chimed in with a low, mischievous chuckle. You laughed, heart pounding but entirely entranced by him. Sukuna’s eyes softened just a fraction as he looked down at you, his smirk easing into something more affectionate.

You laughed breathlessly, and his eyes softened ever so slightly as he took in the sight of you, exhilarated and thrilled by the chase. Then, with a fond rumble in his chest, he pulled you closer, brushing his lips across your forehead.

“You play well,” he murmured, voice low. “But never think you could get away.” The stomach mouth grinned even wider, letting out a satisfied growl, as if it, too, was looking forward to the chase .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

#𐔌 ຼ ͡ ৯ 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ໒꒱#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #anime x female!reader #anime x chubby!reader #𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃 :¨ ·.· ¨: ..#. . ˚˖𓍢ִ

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roseykat · 9 months ago

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hard thought: nerdy virgin!Jisung who’s in the same major cohort as you at college. He’s quiet and likes blending in with the other students rather than being the centre of attention. Every now and then over the semester however, you notice him. You catch him staring at you for too long - particularly staring at places on your body where he really shouldn’t like your ass and tits.

One day you decide to confront him about it when everyone’s left the lecture and ask him questions in very accusatory tones such as “do you like staring at my ass all day?” Or, “are my tits that much of a distraction to you that you always feel the need to fucking look at them?” And it flusters Jisung in the worst way imaginable when the embarrassment of being called out like that actually ends up making him hard.

He turns into a stuttering, blabbering mess when he tries to justify himself as you bring up the matter, which again, feeds into what you correctly think to be a humiliation kink of his. At that point, the tent in his pants is so obvious that you actually do him a favour and get him off in the lecture theatre.

Jisung would be gripping the desk until his knuckles turn a sick white, too scared to touch you back. His body is so sensitive to pleasure that it’s impossible for him not to squirm in his seat when you thread his cock out through the zipper of his pants and start jerking him off. It makes for the best sounds you’ve ever heard to come out of anyone’s mouth though. They’re so strained and his pitch goes from high to low and vice versa.

But they don’t last long, because Jisung would cum so fucking quickly, as in just over thirty seconds to fully spill and dribble thick, hot white over your fist as you pump his cock into overstimulation. He’d tremble and shiver all over when he orgasms, causing him to clap his hand against his mouth so he doesn’t moan or mewl too loudly. But it knocks his glasses sideways on his face as his eyes screw shut.

Then you just leave him there; fucked out in a post orgasmic daydream which has him wondering if what just happened was real or not. After that experience, Jisung would always jerk himself off to that very memory at every chance of alone time he got. Even in the student bathrooms before going to a lecture that he knew you were attended. He’d always imagine his hand to be yours and your voice degrading the fuck out of him until his eyes are rolling back and his moans are stuck in the back of his throat.

(Inspired by this newly released photo of Sungie <3)

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #Han Jisung smut oneshot #kpop smut

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auspicioustidings · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1

Moniker: Soap Risk Level: Low. Soap is a part-time resident who is detained as needed. He is currently not detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Oral sex, “69”ing. Note Soap has biologically female genitalia with an enlarged clitoris or “t-cock”. He accepts feminine and masculine terms for this. Safeword: The word RED is to be used by any party if at any point the session must stop. If any party is unable to vocalise they are to signal physically by touching their thumb to each of their fingers in sequence to signify RED. At no point should any party be both unable to vocalise and unable to signal physically. In the event that this happens, RED will be considered in action and the session will be stopped.

Thought losing your virginity on the first day might scare you off so I’ve shuffled the plan around. You’ve spoken with Soap before, helped him diffuse a bomb on the Medusa mission. He’s insistent you got along so hope having him first helps settle your nerves. I’m on cameras for this one, so I’ve got your back - Price

Well fuck you sideways, your first sexual experience with another person and Captain John Price was going to be watching. You don’t know how he thought that was supposed to settle your nerves. The poor paper that briefing was on had been twisted to pieces in your nervous hands as you made your way to the room. This was where you’d go everytime, this was where you worked. You’d seen it once and Kate had stressed that it would be thoroughly sanitized and reset after each use to fit whatever purpose it needed to. She further stressed that anybody who entered this room had been tested for any transmittable diseases, sexual, blood borne or otherwise, and would only be permitted entry if they came back clean. That wasn’t terrifying at all.

Did you knock? That would be the polite thing to do. Well the correct thing to do at least, Soap was a Sergeant and while the ranks were different in your service your equivalent would be somewhere around Corporal, a rank beneath him. Did he remember you or did Price just know as his Captain that you had spoken before?

The door opened and you about had a heart attack as Soap stood grinning before grabbing your wrist and yanking you through. You had sort of pictured him as handsome because he had a nice voice, but you hadn’t expected him to be so damn broad. Bomb specialists tended to be a little more wirey in your experience.

“Price said ye were out there having a moment, but I’ve only got the day with ye so cannae be wasting time.”

The room did not look as it had when you had visited it. It was warmer now, more welcoming. The raised platform in the middle had a big bed on it with a soft looking duvet. You couldn’t help but smile seeing all the bedclothes were tartan. So the soldier of the day had some say then.

“Right, first off cannae believe I get ye first. I bitched Price’s ear off but didnae think I had a chance. Very, very grateful tae my bonnie Captain for naw ignoring me though” he said, loudly announcing his thanks and sending a grin to the camera in the corner. “I ken ye probably have a bundle of nerves rioting in that pretty stomach, but ye need tae get over them and get over them fast because I need tae winch your cunt.”

You started choking as a gasp caused saliva to go down the wrong pipe. He laughed and patted your back, or at least he started on your back but his hand very much wandered to your ass and squeezed, hard.

It was a knee jerk reaction. You didn’t fully catch up to what your body had even done until you saw the blood streaming from his nose. Shit. You thought for sure Price was about to march in here and give you a dressing down for punching his solider in the face on your first day as a glorified sex toy.

“S-sorry! I wasn’t expecting you to… I mean I know that’s why I’m here, it was instinct” you blurted, getting increasingly panicked at the feral glint in his eye as he rubbed a hand across his nose which only served to smear the blood everywhere.

“Look at the camera for me hen, aye that’s it. Now tell Price that nice wee safeword so he kens ye remember it. The non-verbal version too.”

You shakily followed his instruction, freaked out at how calm and warm his voice was when his eyes were still manic.

“That should dae it, aye Captain? All mine until ye safeword out now hen.”

He attacked you, no other way to describe it with how fast and violent he was in grabbing your face and shoving his tongue into your mouth. He was still bleeding and you could taste it, could feel it stick to your skin. It’s not like you had never kissed someone before, but you never realised just how another tongue could bully yours, writhing against it and pushing it around at it’s pleasure. Oh fuck, if that’s what it was doing in your mouth… an almost painful jolt shot to your clit and you jumped at the shock.

He led you backwards until you hit the bed and then his hands were gripping the back of your thighs so he could use a combination of strength and momentum to lift you a little and toss you back onto the bed. You stared at him as his mouth broke of from yours with the movement. His face was a mess, blood and saliva coating his lips and chin even as the fresh blood had started to slow from his nose.

“Fucking need this hen” he said, almost a keening whine, as he shoved your legs apart and buried his face between them. “Been dying of thirst, ye need tae drown me.”

It was overwhelming just how desperate he seemed and you were shocked and embarrassed at the whimper that spilled from you when he started to lick and chew on the seam of your jeans. The scrape of teeth through the thick fabric had you feeling your heartbeat throb through your clit and your legs were trying to close, you weren’t sure if it was to escape the sensation or chase it with friction, but he muscled his shoulders between them and gripped hard around your thighs so they were locked open.

“Think ye can soak through them? I can make ye soak through them, fuck” he groaned, kissing and tonguing your jeans like he had your mouth.

It was so erotic and so wrong, he was leaving them marked with blood and spit and you felt powerless to do anything about it. You didn’t know if you were getting wet over it and you fisted the duvet below, the urge to run your fingers under your jeans and panties and check flooding through you. It was as if he knew because the next moment he was pressing the pads of two fingers hard against your opening over the jeans, but it was enough. Your panties grabbed onto the slick that had pooled around your hole and it was like a dam breaking, suddenly you could feel it everywhere.

“I-I-” you started, not actually sure what you needed but needing something.

“Nae patience eh?” he said, lifting his head to peer up at you, the picture of some decadent predator feasting on his prey. “Say please.”

“Please?”

“Say please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

You felt like your cheeks had just become about equal to the surface of the sun in terms of heat. You had listened to fucking torture sessions to gather intel but dirty talk from this bloodied creature was the thing that tied your tongue up? There was almost an anger at yourself over it. No wonder you were a fucking virgin if you couldn’t even handle this, they should have chosen one of the confident candidates who would already have made demands of him.

“Naw, stop thinking hen. Please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt” he repeated expectantly, keeping his eyes on you even as his head turned and he nipped his teeth into the meat of your thigh.

“…please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

He was about ready to cum from hearing you say that particular nickname so sweetly.

“Good lass” he said, planting a kiss where he had just sunk his teeth and wasting no time undoing the button on your jeans and peeling them down your legs, his eyes taking in everything underneath them on the way. “That all for me?”

You had forgotten the prep you had done over the last week. Hairless, smooth, soft. It hadn’t been a plan so much as a mad evening of bathing, shaving and nearly drowning yourself in scented oils and lotions in some sort of panic. Lingerie that you had nearly bailed on because it was so delicate and lacy and see through that it felt a level of sensual you weren’t confident in pulling off was now on full display for him and the fabric was so thin that your arousal was making it cling lewdly.

“Aye, think that’s all for me” he grinned as your jeans hit the floor with a thunk.

Fuck he was a sight. He looked like he had just been tearing into a carcass. You had around 5 seconds to take a breath and try prepare before his head was back between your legs. You didn’t realise how much the jeans had muted the sensations, but now with barely a scrap of thin fabric between your pussy and his mouth you saw stars. There was a scream that you vaguely realised was coming from you. His hair was so soft in your fingers, you felt delirious almost as you mumbled out a question about what conditioner he used and then about died when he chuckled right against your clit before he pulled back and ever so slowly pulled your panties off.

“Fuck that’s pretty” he commented before bringing your panties to his nose and rubbing them against his nostrils.

It broke some of the congealing blood, caused a little trickle to start up again. He didn’t seem to care and after another huff neatly, reverently folded your panties and placed them on a little table at the side. Your shirt he was quick with and showed less care, it going flying to rest on the floor a few inches from your jeans.

“These are pretty too hen, if Price wouldnae gie me a spanking for going off brief I’d fuck them” he said as he squeezed your tits together. “Just a wee taste.”

A wee taste here meant him crushing your tits together so he could suck both nipples into his mouth with such force you bowed off of the bed and felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your bra was taken off and folded with the same reverence your panties had been, placed on the table with pink marks on the cups from that little trickle of blood. Most of the blood around his mouth was gone now, only a pink tinge left among all the spit and arousal.

“Ye ever cum for anyone else before?”

“I… no. I mean I’ve done it myself. Or with stuff to help.”

“Price remind me tae blow you later!”

With that he latched on your swollen clit. At first he suckled, humming as he did which drove you fucking mad. Then he pulled off with a slurp, gathered more wetness from your hole on his tongue and drooled it back on your clit. The tip of his tongue flicked at it rapidly, ramping up in speed as your body coiled tighter and tighter.

The noises were erotically disgusting, wet. You tried to tug his hair to get him to let up because you were going to explode, his writhing tongue was about to send you right over the edge.

“S-stop, gonna cum” you panted, trying to hold on.

“That’s the idea hen.”

“The brief said you wanted to… do other things?”

“Aye?”

He had stopped at least and your body was slowly stepping back from the cliff which felt awful. But the brief said he wanted to “69” so you couldn’t cum this early. You just looked down at him debauched between your legs, waiting for him to move on to the next part.

“When ye play with this fat pussy, dae ye stop at one?”

You felt a little panicked at his question. Theoretically, you knew people with your anatomy could have multiple orgasms. In practice you usually just got off and left it at that. It didn’t feel good to keep touching when you were so sensitive after cumming anyway. You sort of shrugged in response.

“Oh hen, you’re going tae gie me 2 like this, 2 when I eat ye from the back and then we can move on so you can have a taste of me. Thinking at least 3 while your lips are wrapped around my cock.”

“I- what? I don’t think I can have that many.”

“Thought I told ye tae stop thinking?” he said with a wink before he dove back in.

If you thought he was giving you his best before, you were quickly disabused of that notion. It took him around 5 seconds. His mouth latched onto you and his tongue eagerly abused your clit without any respite. You rocketed right back to that edge and went tumbling off, thrashing on the bed while he just pinned your hips down and kept going. Your pussy clenched in waves that seemed to never fucking stop.

It was uncomfortable when the orgasm was done but you were still being stimulated and you tried again to shove him away, but fuck he was strong. He refused to be moved, lapping messily at you with a desperation that gave you goosebumps.

“Stop, I can’t!”

“Ye fucking can” he barked back, teeth scraping on your now very oversensitive clit in warning. “Now get your legs up.”

He shoved upwards with his shoulders while his hands forced your legs back, bending you in half. Your hips were tilted now, both of your holes so fully on display for him that it made some undignified sound of humiliation come from you.

He feasted. No part of you escaped him - he licked the seams where your legs met your torso, he sucked on your lips and you wondered if they would bruise with lovebites, he lapped at your rim and had you screeching when he bullied his tongue in, only stopping when a beep sounded in the room.

“Aww fuck off Captain, her arse is fair game for oral!”

Another beep.

“Killjoy. Sorry hen, nae rest for your delicious wee cunt.”

You knew the tongue was a dexterous muscle, but fuck it was insane how he managed to get so much of it inside your pussy. He massaged your walls, flattened and curled the appendage and then flicked it fast. The barest brush of his pinky on your clit was enough to set you off again. You were sure you were nearly pulling his hair out when you came and he drank it up like wine. Decadently, savouring.

His face was a wreck, strings of spit and cum connecting him to you and then snapping and dripping off when he moved his head further away. There was a little blood around his nose, the rest long gone from all the fluids helping to dilute it. You licked your lips only to taste iron. That was right, he may have gotten wet enough to soak it off, but his blood was still all over you.

Fuck he looked drunk. His eyes were unfocused and dreamy, a dopey smile on his face as he went to his knees and looked down at you splayed underneath him. There was a wet spot, a large one, on the duvet. You felt boneless, like you had run a marathon. You weren’t sure you could move. But despite that you couldn’t help but drag your eyes across his still clothed body.

The brief had said he had biologically female genitals, but that his clit was enlarged. You’d never heard of the term t-dick but now it was all you could think about. You wanted to make him feel the way you did, boneless and ready to sleep for two days straight.

“Ask me.”

“What?”

“Can see ye thinking away hen, ask me what it is you’re wanting tae.”

“Oh…” you said, trying to bring your fuzzy brain back online and be brave. “I want to see you. And uh… you know.”

He stripped his t-shirt off with one arm and it was like a damn porno as he tossed it on the floor.

“Cannae say I do hen, ye need tae tell me.”

You sighed in frustration and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Taste you. I want to taste you the way you tasted me.”

“Aye ye do. Still owe me 2 before that though.”

You shot up. He could not be serious. You were already about dead. He could not actually expect you to cum two more times before you even got to the next part of the briefing. You’d fucking die, you were sure of it. You snarled at him when he went to grab you and it was an actual fight.

Your wrestled with him, feeling the burn of something like humiliation whenever your pussy rubbed up somewhere on his body. At one point you tried to lock your legs around his torso, feeling like fireworks went off when you rubbed against the hair running down past the hem of his sweatpants. You squealed in alarm when he wrestled you off and it left a shining wet streak across his skin. You fought hard but you had no chance against him as he roughly got you over onto your knees and shoved hard between your shoulder blades to pin you to the bed.

Your hips wanted to follow, to collapse down, but he didn’t let them. He bullied his knees between yours to spread them and gripped hard onto your hips to give him control over exactly where your hot, wet cunt was. Perfect position for him to dig in.

Another beep.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and you whimpered when he wrenched your head up and turned it to the camera.

“Tell him ye still ken the safeword” he growled.

“I still know the safeword.”

His other hand cupped your slippery and unbearably tender cunt and gave a warning squeeze.

“You’ll remember yer manners soldier.”

“I still know the safeword, sir.”

Satisfied he pinned your head back to the mattress, returned his hand to your hip and maneuvered you so your hole was at just the right height for him.

He dug in.

Oh God, oh God from this angle anytime his mouth was at your clit the rest of his face was getting soaked by your gushing hole. He seemed so much closer now, like he was somehow inside you. His beard felt like it was ripping your lips apart and the prickly pins of pain were so sharp against the all consuming pleasure.

He was suctioned to you, only ever pulling of for a second to take a deep, gulping breath. There was a reluctance to breathe, to ever do anything but drink you down even if it meant he was half suffocating himself.

You tried to have any coherent thoughts about this. It was insane. You had signed up to help him get this out of his system but so far you were pretty sure you should be hiring him and not the other way around. You never knew this could be so all consuming, that your whole body would be so easily played by someone. You were at his mercy, every thump of your heart sending blood wherever the hell he decided it needed to go.

The next orgasm was powerful. It sent your body wild, your legs violently shaking and a choking scream fighting past your lips. You fucking hated him in that moment. He was so eagerly eating at your cunt, taking so much pleasure from it. It made you want it. You wanted to eat him out. You wanted to feel what he was feeling. But he wanted another orgasm from you first so he wasn’t stopping even with you screaming at him.

“Fuck you! I can’t go again, I can’t! Let me see you, let me taste you Johnny! It’s not fair!”

You’d lost any sense of shame. You think you might have lost any sense at all when you screamed your throat raw as your body fought the stimulation, tried and failed to get away so then just accepted it.

Cumming this time felt different. It was almost sore to have your muscles contract again, so exhausting you wanted to cry and beg to just sleep.

He slowed down, was gentle in cleaning you up with his tongue. When his grip on your hips loosened you collapsed to the bed, panting.

You could hear him taking his sweats off and it was the only thing to will you to turn yourself over onto your back. You needed to see him. You fucking needed it more than you needed anything as inconsequential as rest.

At first you felt like your brain was shorting out. He was standing at the end of the bed, now totally naked. His body was gorgeous, rugged. Your mouth watered as your eyes trailed down, following the path of hair to his pussy. He certainly hadn’t shaved in a panic like you had, the hair was just as thick between his legs as it was everywhere else. His fingers were lazily playing with his clit and you swore it was a cock.

It stood proudly through the thatch of dark hair, was dripping like you imagined a cock would. But that’s what it was. You understood now why the brief had called it a t-cock. Oh God you wanted to kiss, lick, suck - devour him the way he had you.

“Go on then hen, get that wet wee mouth on my cock” he said, his tone that of a man indulging the whims of some silly creature whose desperation he found cute.

You swallowed thickly, your body slow in moving through the exhaustion as you got to your knees and crawled across the bed to him. At first it was just a kitten lick, a little taste. Sweat, salt and something tangy and sweet. He was so slippery beneath your tongue and it was instinct to lap up the liquid, to keep chasing the strange taste.

“That’s it, good lass. There you go” he said, barely above a whisper as if coaxing some scared prey animal.

You shifted to get a more solid position, knees splaying wide to get you the right height and hands gripping his thick thighs. You needed to taste more, feel more. You fucking needed your mouth on him like you needed oxygen. You needed to drink down his arousal, the proof of what his body thought of yours.

He smiled down at you in tentative delight. You were so gone for this, all that trepidation vanished as you savoured the first tasting of him. No longer the shy thing that he had dragged into the room, now an animal understanding that the feast came before all. He knew the place you had went to couldn’t be permanent but while you were there he intended to enjoy it.

There was no skill in what you were doing, just a clumsy and selfish exploration. Your concept of time floated away as you treated his cunt and cock like the mouth of a stranger in the drunken haze of a club, wet, sloppy kisses against the heat of him.

He was dripping down your chin, the red around your mouth tinging pink and eventually being drowned entirely. His hands were massaging softly on your scalp, your shoulders. You wanted to stay here forever. He could not think of a compelling reason why not.

“Fuck, need tae get your taste back on my tongue” he groaned.

You barely registered your body being moved, only focused on keeping that connection to him. You wanted to crawl inside him, live there. Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs when you muscled your tongue inside his hole and felt the walls of him eagerly try to coax you deeper.

He maneuvered his body over yours and somewhere in the recesses of your brain you knew you should find this dangerous. He was big over you, could choose to drop his weight and smother you. Instead you found it comforting, like a warm nest for him to keep you safe and fed in.

“You’re so fucking pretty hen. Want tae keep you all tae myself.”

“You taste so good” you said, words muffled from the now insistent press of his wet cock on your face.

Everything was so wet, so hot. Touch yes, but scent and sound were both soaking, dripping, gushing. The first time he came you thanked him and begged him for more, more, more as your hips writhed up against his mouth.

You were sobbing when you came back online. You had been for a while from how tight your chest felt and the way your eyes stung with dryness. You were crying out broken words, begging him, saying you couldn’t.

“Ye can, one more. Just one more.”

Fuck, everything was tender and sore. No wonder you were such a wreck, your body was too wrung of pleasure that it could only give you pain now. He was relentless at your pussy and when you came this time it fucking hurt. Every muscle was cramping horribly.

“No more Johnny” you whined even as he ground his cock clumsily against your face and moaned through his own pained orgasm.

“Aye, one more. Need it hen, fuck. Could die in this pussy.”

You didn’t know how his tongue kept going, yours was useless now. You could only hold it out for him to rut against. You only knew he came again from how he howled. Your face was so covered in him that another flood barely registered. You really couldn’t anymore. You felt like you were about to die.

“Red.”

You mumbled it so softly and deliriously that you weren’t expecting anything to come of it, but he patted your flank and rolled off of you to lay on his back and pant.

“Jesus Christ hen, where the fuck did Price find you?” he said, voice hoarse and rough.

You couldn’t move. He didn’t seem mad at all that you had safe worded out at least. No, instead he pulled himself up with a long groan to flop down beside you.

“Gie me 20 minutes for a cuddle and a nap then I’ll get ye all cleaned up aye? I’ll let ye use my conditioner.”

And then he was snoring in your ear, his sweaty body wrapped around yours as you drifted off to unconsciousness.

—

Price was exhausted. He hadn’t intended to wank to you, but you had put those big, wet eyes on the camera and called him sir and then all bets were off. Christ alive the two of you had went for hours, writhing like animals on that bed.

He though after he had cum it would relief the pressure, but then you had so sweetly crawled over to lap at his boy’s cunt and he got hard all over again.

Soap certainly did owe him a blow job. You had been perfect for him, let him push his pleasure too far like he loved. And now there you both were boneless and passed out in puddles of arousal. He groaned imagining how the room must smell.

But he wasn’t needed. Soap was exhausted himself yes, but he enjoyed looking after a lover after such an intense experience and Price would not deprive him of that.

Part of him was tempted to change the plan, get you to one of the residents earlier, one of the ones who would ruin you so badly that you would need Price afterwards.

Thankfully, he was just about a good man when he dismissed the thought.

#mhairiwrites #mhairi'skinktober #going to ignore my own posting schedule since I already fucked it up and posted then deleted this at the wrong time anyway

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bananababblegigglemuffin · 1 month ago

Text

KINKTOBER- Car stuff with wolvie

Note: 1999 words long. Worth it I’m hoping

The rain had started to fall in a steady drizzle, tapping lightly against the windshield of the beat-up truck. Wolverine’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white from the pressure, eyes sharp and focused on the winding road ahead. Next to him, a woman sat in silence, her hair still damp from the downpour they’d both run through to get to the truck. She shifted slightly in the seat, her body tense from the close proximity to him, their shoulders nearly touching.

They’d been on the road for hours, and neither had said much. It wasn’t that they didn’t have things to talk about—it was more about the tension that hung in the air between them, thick and electric, a quiet storm that had been brewing since the moment they’d met.

She had never been able to ignore the way Logan’s presence filled a room—or, in this case, the cramped cab of the truck. He was all raw power, restrained, coiled beneath the surface like a beast waiting to be unleashed. His rugged good looks, the scruff lining his jaw, the way his muscles shifted beneath his worn leather jacket—it all stirred something deep inside her, something primal.

She caught herself glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, taking in the way his hands gripped the wheel, the veins standing out on his forearms, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as if he were fighting some inner battle. Her pulse quickened. She knew Logan had noticed her staring. He always did.

“Something on your mind, darlin’?” His voice was low, gravelly, the kind of voice that sent a shiver down her spine even when he wasn’t trying.

She cleared her throat, trying to play it off. “Just thinking about where we’re headed. Feels like we’ve been driving forever.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a half-smile, though his eyes never left the road. “You sure that’s all that’s on your mind?”

She stiffened, the heat rising to her cheeks. He could always read her so easily, and she hated it—and loved it. She turned to face the window, watching the rain as it slid down the glass, her thoughts racing. The truth was, there was more on her mind. There always was when it came to him.

The truck hit a bump in the road, jostling them both slightly. Logan cursed under his breath, reaching out instinctively to steady her, his hand resting on her thigh. The contact sent a jolt through her, and she gasped softly, her body reacting before her mind had a chance to catch up.

Logan didn’t move his hand right away. Instead, his grip tightened just slightly, his thumb brushing over the soft fabric of her jeans, an unmistakable spark of something more passing between them. She could feel the heat of his touch searing through her skin, setting her nerves on fire.

He finally pulled his hand back, his voice lower, rougher. “Didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted, surprising even herself with how quickly the words came out.

Logan’s gaze shifted toward her, his eyes dark and searching. For a moment, the only sound was the rain against the truck and the quiet hum of the engine, the air between them crackling with unspoken desire.

“Pull over,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain.

Logan’s brows furrowed, his confusion evident. “What?”

“Just… pull over.”

He didn’t argue. Logan rarely argued with her, and when he did, it was more of a challenge than a disagreement. He eased the truck onto the side of the road, the tires crunching over gravel as he brought it to a stop. The rain had picked up, now pounding against the roof, creating a cocoon of privacy, isolating them from the rest of the world.

She didn’t wait for him to ask questions. Instead, she turned in her seat to face him fully, her heart racing, her breath coming quicker. She reached out, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of his jacket before moving to rest on his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath her palm, strong and steady.

“I can’t do this anymore, Logan,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He frowned, concern flickering across his features. “Do what?”

“Pretend.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. “Pretend that there’s nothing between us.”

Logan’s expression shifted, the rough exterior he always wore like armor cracking just slightly. “I’ve never been good at pretending, darlin’.”

She let out a soft laugh, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Then why are we still pretending?”

Logan’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Because you deserve better than this. Better than me.”

She shook her head, her hand sliding up to cup his jaw, her thumb brushing over the rough stubble. “I don’t want better. I want you.”

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Logan’s breath hitched, his body going rigid beneath her touch. For a moment, he looked like he might argue, like he might try to push her away again. But then something shifted, something primal and raw, and before she could react, his lips were on hers.

The kiss was intense, fueled by everything they’d been holding back for so long. His hands were in her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She melted into him, her body responding instantly to the heat and power of his touch.

The rain continued to pour outside, the truck windows fogging up as their passion consumed them. Logan’s hands slipped beneath her shirt, his fingers grazing her skin, sending shivers of pleasure through her. She gasped against his lips, her body arching into his touch, craving more.

“You sure about this?” Logan murmured against her neck, his voice thick with desire but tinged with hesitation.

She answered by kissing him again, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, refusing to let him go. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered breathlessly.

Logan growled low in his throat, his hands gripping her tighter as he pulled her even closer, their bodies pressed together in the small space of the truck cab. His lips trailed down her neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against her skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. She tilted her head back, giving him better access, her body trembling with anticipation.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only the two of them, tangled together in a whirlwind of passion and desire. She could feel the tension in Logan’s body, the way he held back, trying to be gentle, trying not to let the full force of his strength overwhelm her. But she didn’t want him to hold back. She wanted all of him, every raw, unfiltered part of him.

Her hands slid beneath his shirt, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the power beneath his skin. He shuddered under her touch, his breath coming faster, his control slipping. And then, in one swift movement, he had her pinned against the seat, his body pressing against hers, his lips claiming hers with a fierce intensity that left her breathless.

Their clothes became a blur, discarded in the heat of the moment, as the rain continued to fall outside, the sound of it blending with the ragged breaths and soft moans filling the truck. Logan’s hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her, his touch both rough and tender, driving her wild with need.

She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, her body responding to every touch, every kiss, every whispered word. And when Logan finally moved against her, their bodies coming together, it was like the world shifted on its axis. Every sensation was heightened, every touch electrified, and she lost herself in him completely.

They moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync, the intensity of their connection overwhelming. It was as if every moment they’d spent apart, every second of longing and unspoken desire, had built up to this. And now that they were finally together, nothing else mattered.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, the rain falling harder outside, the world fading away. All that existed was Logan’s body against hers, the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath in her ear, the way his hands held her like she was the only thing that mattered.

And when they finally came undone, it was like a release of everything they’d been holding back for so long, a wave of pure, unfiltered emotion that left them both trembling in its wake.

Logan collapsed against her, his breath ragged, his body still trembling. He held her close, his arms wrapped around her like he never wanted to let go. She buried her face in his chest, her own breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to process everything that had just happened.

For a long time, they stayed like that, tangled together in the small space of the truck, the rain still falling outside. Neither of them said a word.

End.

Authors note:

Hey guys I’m thinking of writing a series with wolvie and xmen and mcu and everything

HERE are peak into the series

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wendsky · 1 month ago

Text

seen part 1

wednesday addams x shapeshifter!fem!reader

when wednesday catches reader shapeshifting, she becomes enthralled by her shifting abilities.

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In a dark corner of Nevermore Academy, a school known for embracing the odd and the extraordinary, you—an unassuming shapeshifter with a preference for solitude—felt perfectly at ease. Your life was a delicate balance of blending in while keeping the most intriguing part of yourself hidden. The days were routine, predictable, and that was exactly how you liked them.

It was a typical morning at Nevermore. You trudged through your anatomy lesson, silently taking notes on the skeletal structure of mythical creatures, while your classmates whispered and exchanged their dark humor and morbid facts.

Your next stop was botany, where you were surrounded by carnivorous plants and the occasional shrub that could cast a minor curse if you got too close. The macabre and unusual felt normal here, but even in a school of outcasts, you stood apart—not for your appearance or your quiet demeanor, but for what you were hiding.

Nobody knew about your shapeshifting abilities. Not even your teachers, who could sense when a student was particularly unique. And that was just how you wanted it. Being able to morph into different faces, adopt various personas at will, had always been your little secret.

You’d been judged enough in your early life for being “too quiet,” “too strange,” or “too aloof.” So, the shapeshifting? That was something you kept to yourself. Besides, people already had their suspicions about shapeshifters. The idea of someone changing their appearance at will made them uncomfortable, made them suspicious. Trust, in a school like Nevermore, was fragile.

You slipped into the cafeteria after botany, threading your way through the clusters of students, each group more peculiar than the next. Sirens, vampires, and gorgons filled the air with low conversation and laughter, while werewolves crowded around their tables with an almost territorial presence. As usual, you took a seat at the back, where no one would notice you.

Being a loner wasn’t so bad. In fact, you preferred it. The quiet gave you room to think, room to observe. People rarely bothered you, which meant fewer questions and fewer chances for your secret to slip out.

Still, despite your contentment with being alone, there were moments when you wished you could break free from your shyness and blend in more easily with the other students. Your heart would sometimes flutter with longing when you saw them effortlessly engaging in conversation or sharing inside jokes. You envied their ease, their confidence.

That’s when your shapeshifting abilities came in handy. When you felt the need to step out of the shadows, to try something new, you would choose a new face—someone outgoing, someone charming—and pretend to be them.

It was like slipping into a costume for a performance, a way to test the waters of social interaction without fully exposing your true self. But it was always temporary, a fleeting moment of borrowed confidence before retreating into the safety of your true form.

Today, though, you didn’t feel the urge to shift. You were content with your usual routine, staying quiet, unnoticed.

Until, that is, she walked in.

Wednesday Addams—stoic, cold, and somehow more intimidating than any monster in the school—strode into the cafeteria, her sharp gaze sweeping the room with a bored detachment.

Her reputation preceded her. Daughter of the infamous Addams family, she was known for her deadpan wit, dark humor, and an unnerving fascination with death and all things macabre. Even at Nevermore, where the odd was celebrated, Wednesday was in a league of her own.

You hadn’t spoken to her much, if at all. She didn’t seem like the type to engage in idle conversation, and you certainly weren’t going to try. But there was something about her that made the air in the room feel heavier, like her presence alone commanded attention.

She never seemed to care about anyone’s opinion, always walking through life with an air of detached indifference. In a way, you admired her. She had no need for masks or performances. Wednesday Addams was unapologetically herself.

As she moved past your table, you lowered your gaze to your food, trying to make yourself even more invisible than usual. You didn’t want her to notice you.

But she did.

Her steps slowed as she passed, and for a brief moment, her dark cold eyes flicked in your direction. It was only a glance, a quick, cutting look, but it made your heart race. You kept your eyes down, waiting for her to move on.

She did, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Later that afternoon, after classes had ended, you found yourself alone in one of the empty halls of the academy. The cold stone walls had always felt like a second home, offering you the privacy you craved.

You weren’t expecting anyone to be around, and you certainly didn't foresee what was about to happened next.

You were practicing your shapeshifting abilities, shifting into different faces, trying out a few new personas. It was your way of unwinding, destressing, testing out new possibilities for yourself. Each new face came with a new set of expressions, mannerisms, personas. Things you were too afraid to pull off as your true self.

You had just morphed into a more confident, outgoing version of yourself—someone with an easy smile and bright eyes—when you felt a presence behind you.

Spinning around, you saw her.

Wednesday Addams stood at the end of the hallway, her arms crossed, an unreadable expression on her pale face.

Your heart stopped. She had seen you. She had caught you shapeshifting. You quickly shifted back into your true form, but it was too late. The damage was done. Your secret was out.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to expect—disgust? Suspicion? Maybe even anger?

But Wednesday’s reaction was none of those things.

“I didn’t know shapeshifters could be so... dramatic,” she said, her monotone voice cold but laced with a hint of curiosity.

Your mouth went dry. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“I’ve seen many things at Nevermore,” she continued, her eyes narrowing slightly as if studying you. “But you... you’re intriguing.”

There was no judgment in her tone, no fear. If anything, she seemed curious.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s... not something I usually show people.”

“I can see why,” she said, her gaze never leaving yours. “But that’s a shame. You could do so much with that.”

Her words were unexpected, and they hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. She wasn’t judging you. She wasn’t scared of you. In fact, she seemed almost... impressed.

Before you could respond, she turned and began walking away, her dark braid swinging behind her. “I’ll be watching you, y/n,” she called over her shoulder, her voice as cool as ever.

She. She knew your name. You looked down, face heating up, heart was beating so fast and when you glanced back up at her, she was gone. Here you were standing in the empty hallway, your heart racing and your mind reeling.

You didn’t know what to make of the encounter, but one thing was certain—Wednesday Addams had noticed you, and that was not someone that you could ignore.

a/n: messy but i hope this is a good start to posting here. i take requests too!

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scintie · 3 months ago

Text

a spark of black

Pairing: Gambit/Remy LeBeau x female reader. Summary: Ever since you appeared at the resistance hideout along with Wade and Logan, tension between you and a certain Cajun card slinger has been steadily growing. One fateful night you finally get the chance to relieve some of it. Tags: smut (male receiving), blowjob, mild dominant undertones. Notes: be gentle, this is the first piece of writing that I've uploaded in yeeeeears. :')

You watched Remy’s mouth move, his lips forming words that you just couldn’t decipher. He was obviously speaking to you, it was just the two of you sat in the main room of the hideout.

Earlier in the evening everyone had been gathered, sharing stories and drinks. The others had all turned in for the night an hour or so ago, leaving you and the Cajun to continue on without them. Wade had made his exit by saying something predictably crude about not being too loud while fucking each others brains out. Remy had waved him off while you did nothing but blush.

The past hour had been torture. Listening to Remy's smooth, deep voice talk about their recent escapades in the Void had driven you crazy with desire. You'd developed a stupid crush on him as soon as you'd arrived. Who wouldn't though right? With his tall, broad stature and handsome face, he'd be hard for anyone to resist. But as the days had passed things went from bad to worse and your stupid crush deepened into a genuine desire.

That's why the blood was thumping so loud in your ears that you couldn’t understand him.

“Wh-what? Sorry, I er, I didn’t quite catch that.” You stammered, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. You dreaded to think how flustered you looked to him right now. Like a deer in the headlights of a truck. A big, sexy truck wearing a brown leather coat.

“Oh, tu es mignon,” Remy chuckled under his breath. He rose from his chair and stepped a little closer, as if the distance between the two of you was the issue. “Remy see da way you been lookin’ at him cher, when ya' think he no be noticin’, ah?”

You were speechless. You didn't know how to react to his bluntness. How were you supposed to react to that?

Remy smirked and closed the gap between you completely and leaned over you, placing his hands on the back of your chair, one either side of your head. He was so close, you could barely breathe.

"You wan' me? All a pretty lil' thing like you would hav' to do is ask, ma douce." He kept his voice low, not wanting to alert the others.

Your mind raced, thoughts bouncing around for what felt like an eternity before at last, you nodded your head. You didn't even realise you were doing it but you weren't about to argue against it either.

"Atta girl, une si bonne fille." Remy praised, standing up straight. His hands went to the fastenings of his pants, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. "Ya trust Remy, don'cha cher?" He asked, slowly pushing his pants and underwear down off of his hips.

Your gaze left his then, moving down his otherwise fully clothed body until you were greeted with the sight of his half hard cock slipping from it's confines. Your eyes went wide. He was certainly much bigger than anyone you'd ever been with before.

You realised Remy was still watching you, slowly stroking himself now, waiting for an answer. You didn't know where to look, it was hard to tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock swelling to it's full, impressive size.

Finally, you found your words, "Y-yeah, I trust you."

"Perfect." Remy smirked and took up his position right in front of you, his hands on the back of the chair again. You gulped, head swimming with anticipation. "Then open up dat pretty mouth for me."

You drew in a long breath before slowly parting your lips, wider and wider until he nodded his approval. Remy seemed to realise that he had forgotten something, taking your hands from your lap and guiding them to his bare thighs. "Da's for yer own peace of mind, don' wan' you thinkin' you gon' fall."

You braced your hands on his muscular legs and soon realised why as he pulled on the back of your chair, slowly tilting you forward. The movement causing your mouth to lower onto his cock. It was definitely a different experience to anything you were used to, he had almost complete control over your movement.

Remy moaned quietly, taking in the tantalisingly debauched sight of your luscious lips wrapped around him. He took in every detail and sensation, observing you as if you were creating a beautiful piece of artwork right in front of him.

You looked up at him with hooded eyes, slowly working your tongue around him with what little space you had left to use.

Remy moaned again, deeper this time before just as slowly tipping the chair back down, his cock sliding almost all of the way out of your mouth.

"Y'okay, cher?" He asked, his chest rising and falling quickly. You could tell he was holding himself back a little, but he needed to make sure you were still on board with this.

You nodded slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his thighs, squeezing the muscles lying taught beneath his smooth skin.

Remy nodded back and steadied his stance. He moved the chair forward and backward again in quicker succession this time, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He relaxed when all he saw was lust and wanton desire on your features.

You kept your hands braced on his legs, giving yourself a firm and steady anchor point to rely on. You moaned around his dick as he moved you again, a little deeper this time but still manageable.

He gradually built up a good rhythm. Not fast enough to be overwhelming for you but definitely enough to have him moaning freely, loving the soft warmth of your mouth as he moved you back and forth.

"Dat hot lil' mouth feelin' so good on me, cher." He whispered huskily, just loud enough for you to hear. You still had to be quiet, you couldn't imagine how mortifying it would be if one of the others walked in on you two right now.

Remy's words of encouragement shot a tingle through your body that ended up right between your legs. You pressed your thighs together hard and whimpered, tears prickling your eyes as your arousal started to get the better of you.

Remy noticed the change in your demeanour and slowly lowered the chair completely back down to the floor, his cock slipping free from your mouth for the first time since he'd started. A mixture of saliva and precum followed after him, coating your lips and chin.

You loved how completely blissed out you were feeling, high on the endorphins and serotonin surging through your body. Without really thinking about it you slid from the chair and onto your knees between Remy's feet. You were going on instinct, being driven by the almighty lust that you felt for this man.

"Y'kay down dere, angel?" Remy enquired, cocking an eyebrow and sliding a reassuring hand onto your shoulder as he watched you with intrigue.

You nodded slowly, grazing your teeth over your bottom lip. "Uhuh, just wanna make you come that's all..." Your words came out so soft and breathy that it was his turn to barely hear you, but he soon got the idea when you reached up and started to stroke him back to full hardness.

He moaned just a little louder than he'd liked to, caught a little off guard by the sudden sensation of your soft hands. "Well cher, Remy ain't gon' be arguin' widdat." He chuckled when he'd regained composure, jutting his hips forward for you. As soon as he was rigid again you wasted no time in taking his cock back into your mouth. You set a relatively fast pace, bobbing your head quickly, taking as much as would while working him with your tongue. Your hands went to his hips, pulling him forward and back gently in time with your bobbing. "Merde..." He hissed, looking down at you as he snaked his hand into the hair at the back of your head. "Jus' like dat, belle. Remy be comin' in no time if you be doin' dat..."

Spurred on by his words you forced yourself to take him just a little deeper, feeling him throb against your tongue in response, followed by the salty taste of precum.

You moaned softly as Remy's fingers tightened in your hair, gripping the strands at the very root. His hips stuttered a little, a tell tale sign that he getting close.

One of your hands left his hip and made it's way between his legs to massage his balls, lifting them with your palm and rolling them in their sack slowly.

The sound that came out of the Cajun's mouth was like music to your ears. Along guttural moan peppered with some indistinguishable French curse words. Apparently he didn't seem to care if anyone heard anymore.

A couple more minutes went by of you greedily sucking him and playing with his balls before Remy suddenly pulled back, his cock popping from your mouth wetly.

He wrapped his hand around his dick as he quickly guided you to sit back in the discarded chair from earlier. You complied, scrabbling up onto the wooden seat.

Remy stood over you, straddling your legs a she began jerking himself off quickly. "M' gonna come all over dat pretty face, cher... ya' ready?"

You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks in anticipation. His hand made it's way to the back of your head again, holding you in place as he chased his orgasm.

The visual of such a devastatingly gorgeous man masturbating over you was intoxicating, it made your head spin just watching him. An odd swell of pride hit you as you noticed your saliva still coating his cock as he stroked himself, sliding his length between the makeshift sheath of his palm and thick fingers.

"Beg me, cher. Beg Remy for his cum." He panted.

You could tell he was right there, right on the precipice, he just needed to hear you.

"Please Remy, fuck... please cum all over me..." You whined, your breathing almost as shallow as his by now.

That did the trick. Almost as soon as the last words left passed your lips Remy let out a long, loud moan as his cock started to twitch. He pulled you closer just as thick, white ropes of cum started to shoot from his slit.

You opened your mouth just in time as you felt some of the hot, salty fluid paint your tongue. The rest splashed across your face in haphazard directions, marking you as his. Remy's fist slowed and his breathing steadied as the pleasure subsided. It was at that moment that you locked eyes with him. It was then that he fully saw the mess he'd made of you. The sight of you covered in his seed seemed to stun him for a small moment before his trademark cockiness returned.

"Lookin' good dere, beautiful. Dat look really suit you, ah?" He quipped, winking as he turned to find a washcloth.

You took it from him with a shy smile, your hormone fuelled confidence ebbing away slightly in the aftermath. But you smiled to yourself as you wiped your face clean because you had a feeling that he was right. It did suit you.

#lmao i had no idea how to end this #tumblr is being a dick to me right now so i hope there's not too many mistakes #and that it's not an incoherent mess #i'll read it again later and correct if need be #gambit x reader #gambit x you #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau x you #gambit smut #deadpool & wolverine #kat writes when the stars are aligned #remy lebeau #gambit

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bruisedboys · 2 years ago

Text

over the influence — remus lupin x reader

summary: remus lupin is not your boyfriend, but he sure knows how to act like he is.

contains: friends to lovers, friends trying really hard to be lovers, fluff, mutual pining, lovesick oblivious remus, drunk!reader, modern!au, rugby!james cw implied fem!reader, reader wears a skirt, alcohol consumption.

note: um welcome to my first ever remus fic!? if I’m being honest I have no idea if it’s good but I’m posting it anyway yolo

fem!reader 2.9k words

You’re plastered when Remus finds you. Absolutely hammered.

He can tell because you’re giggling madly at one of Sirius’s jokes, which you never do, because Sirius’s jokes are awful and you thankfully have a good sense of humour. But, you’re a giggly drunk, who finds just about anything anyone says absolutely hilarious. It’s adorable, usually. But right now, it’s blowing Sirius’s ego out of the water.

Remus dives in to save you as Sirius roars with laughter at his own joke.

“Dove,” he says, clasping your shoulder. You’re slumped into the sofa, your head lolling against the cushions. “There you are.”

You twist to look who it is, your face all scrunched up as you take him in. You blink very slowly. Then, just as slow, your face lights up.

“Remus!” You gasp happily. “Hi, baby. I was wondering where you went!”

Baby. Remus’s face burns and his heart does a triple backflip. You’re drunk, he reasons. Super drunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, bending at the waist so you can hear him better. It’s loud, the music and the people and Sirius, especially.

“I’m perfect,” you say, words all slurry and sticky and ending in a sort of ditzy hiccup.

Well, you’re not wrong about that. Remus takes the seat next to you and your droopy eyes follow him down.

“How much have you had to drink?” Remus asks, trying for curious but coming out a bit concerned. “What did you even drink?”

You shrug and hiccup again. “I don’t know.” Your shoulders drop and so do your lips, a sort of confused frown washing over your features. “Sirius made me some weird concoction … it was kinda gross, Rem.” You look at Remus very seriously, your eyelids low. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Remus laughs and pretends to zip his lips. “Your secret’s safe with me, babe.”

Chances are it’s not, and Remus will mock Sirius about it endlessly. Not tonight, though. Tonight he’s mainly focused on making sure you don’t touch another cup of anything other than water.

You’re giggling again, though Remus isn’t sure what at. You’re just gazing at him and giggling your head off like a maniac.

“What’s so funny, pretty?” He asks fondly, a grin tugging at his lips. He knows you don’t have a chance of remembering any of this by tomorrow morning. Hence the pet names.

You stop laughing abruptly. It’s alarming and then not, because your big grin stays put. You lean in close, your chest pressing into his side. Remus smells all your smells, your perfume and your hairspray and the mystery drink you’ve definitely had too much of.

“You’re pretty,” you say, completely ignoring his question.

Remus flushes. You’re never this forward. It’s driving him nuts, the way you’re looking at him. How close you are. The way your scents wash over him and make him feel almost as drunk as you are.

“Whatever you say,” he says, brushing off your compliment because what the hell is he supposed to say to that? “I think you need some water.”

Remus gets up but you catch his wrist before he’s fully standing, your soft fingers pressing into his skin.

“Wait, don’t leave!” You sound desperate and you look the part, too. Your pretty eyes are blown wide as saucers.

Remus falters. “I’ll be five seconds, dove. M’just getting you a glass of water.”

You pout in such a way that makes Remus want to kiss you silly. “Take me with you, then?”

Remus finds he physically cannot say no to that look. He hauls you up by the forearm and you cling happily to his arm. Remus makes his way to the kitchen with you attached to his arm like a barnacle, your fingers pressing into the crook of his elbow, your thigh brushing his as you walk far too close to him. It’s dizzying, and Remus is surprised he’s managing to walk in a straight line.

In the kitchen, it’s much quieter but you’re not any less drunk. You detach yourself from Remus and skip over to the kitchen island. Before Remus can stop you you’re hauling yourself up onto the bench, so unsteady on your feet that you almost topple right off. Remus catches you by the elbow just before disaster strikes.

“Oops,” you giggle, breathless and totally out of your mind. “Sorry.”

Remus’s heart stops racing with worry and instead races with infatuation with you. Even in your drunken state.

“S’fine,” he says kindly, patiently, because you’re too sweet for your own good. You almost went toppling to your demise and you’re apologizing. “Just be careful. Please.”

You nod and sit pretty while Remus retrieves a glass and fills it with cold water from the fridge. When he turns back you’re making grabby hands for the glass. Remus looks at you, your wobbly state and your clumsy hands, and holds the condensation-ridden glass closer to his chest.

You pout and drop your arms. “Remus.”

“You’ll drop it, honey,” he says, as kindly as he can without sounding like he’s babying you. He is babying you, actually. Not that he’s gonna tell you that. “Let me.”

You let him. He brings one hand to rest at the small of your back, his fingers brushing the strip of skin just shy of your skirt’s waistband. He tries not to think about it as he brings the glass to your lips.

You drink like you’ve been stuck in a desert for six days, gulping like your life depends on it. Remus is grinning fondly until you finish and dip your head backwards. Your neck is bared to the kitchen lights and your chest is heaving dramatically, and Remus feels so lightheaded he actually has to grab the counter.

You notice, because of course you do, even in your tipsy state. You frown and put your hand on Remus’s where it’s gripping the counter for dear life.

“Remus? Are you okay?”

Remus blinks rapidly, hitches a grin onto his face. “I’m fine,” he says, fake grin at work. “Do you want more water?”

You think about it for a second. Then you look at Remus like you’re about to deliver the worst news of his life. “I need to pee,” you say solemnly.

Remus almost laughs. Almost. “Well, c’mon then.” He sets your empty glass down and grabs your forearm. “I’ll get one of the girls to take you.”

“No!” You say desperately. You throw your arms around Remus’s neck and tug him into you, and Remus is so startled he doesn’t have time to think about how close you are. You push your face into his neck. “No,” you say again, quieter this time. “I don’t want them to look after me. I want you.”

Your closeness catches up with Remus in a rush of heat all over his body. Your thighs press into his sides and your arms are like a vice around his neck. His heart thrums and his chest burns and it takes him a while to figure out what he’s saying.

“Dove,” he says gently. He pries himself off of you, albeit reluctantly, and puts his hands over your biceps, squeezing lightly. “I can’t take you to the bathroom.”

You frown. “Why not?”

Remus stutters. “Well, because. I’m- I’m not—”

“Please?” You beg, looking awfully cute when you clasp your hands together between yours and Remus’s chests. “You can just stand outside the door and wait. I’ll be fine.”

Half of Remus thinks it’s a bad idea, you might trip on your own feet and whack your head on the bathtub. The other half of him can’t ever say no to you, not even when what you’re proposing is totally dangerous and an awful idea. He’s not exactly proud of himself when he nods.

“Yeah, alright then,” he says, and you beam. “Come on.”

Remus ends up looking after you for the remainder of the night, you’re so drunk. He drives you home not long after your bathroom break. Sobers you up with some tea which you barely touch, and more cold water which you skull like you’ve been deprived of it for days.

He deposits you in your bed and you’re already half asleep by the time he does it, but you manage a sleepy, “Thank you,” that’s so sweet Remus feels his chest ache. He leaves you fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, ignores the urge to crash on your couch, and double checks he’s locked your doors on the way out.

Not that anyone’s asking, but he’s maybe just had the best night of his life.

Remus gets a call from you the next day and his heart skips. He thinks, stupidly, that maybe you’ve decided you hate him after last night. He picks it up anyway, because he misses you.

“Remus,” you say, as soon as the phone’s on his ear. You sound somewhat anguished. “Was I awful last night?”

He laughs, surprised. “What?”

“Was I awful to look after?” You ask like it’s obvious. “I barely remember anything. James said I was clinging to you for half the night.” You’re moaning like it’s a bad thing. For Remus it wasn’t. “And I’m sure I said some weird shit, I was so loopy off that stupid drink Siri gave me. I—”

Remus saves you before you fall into a self-deprecating waffle.

“Y/N,” he interrupts your rambling. “What’s gotten into you, dove? You were fine. It was fine.” I like looking after you, he doesn’t say.

“But—”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Remus tries not to laugh because you are being ridiculous, but you also really do sound quite worked up about it. “It’s fine. I wasn’t about to leave you to the crows.”

You giggle, thankfully. When you speak again you sound much happier. “‘The crows’ as in Sirius?”

Remus snorts. “Yeah. The crows as in Sirius. I think I’ll have a word with him about the drinks he passes around.”

You huff, and Remus can picture your pout. “Please do. I’m never drinking with him again.”

Remus laughs, a mixture of amusement and fondness and agreement. You’re much more yourself this morning, perky and a little dramatic and a bit of an over-thinker. Though admittedly, Remus didn’t mind loopy you last night.

“Are you going to James’s game tonight?” You ask, a smile evident in your voice.

Remus snaps out of his lovelorness long enough to reply, “Are you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“‘Cos I’m only going if you’re going.”

You laugh loud and the heat in Remus’s cheeks only grows. He loves making you laugh more than he’d like to admit.

“That’s mean, Remus,” you scold, with less heat than a block of ice. “Don’t you want to support your friend?”

“Friend isn’t really the right word,” Remus jokes. He’s happy to make you laugh at James’s expense. He’s sure James can take it.

You laugh again, and Remus knows you know he means it jokingly.

You’re still giggling when you talk again, breathless and adorable. “Alright, well. Would you mind picking me up?”

Remus agrees far too quickly to be normal, with far too much eagerness. He gets off the phone after agreeing on a time to pick you up, and knows he’s a total goner.

Remus isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your friend. And yet here you are, sitting very close to him in the stadium stands while you watch James’s rugby game. Only last night, he’d looked after you and driven you home when you got too tipsy. He’d also, at your request, given you a ride here, telling you all the while that you were the only reason he’s coming to the game at all. So maybe he’s closer to being your boyfriend than you think.

You watch James score a try and your row of seats erupts into cheers, Lily’s the loudest. The big screen above the field shows the camera panning to a close up of James. He whoops and pounds his fists in the air and blows a big smacking kiss in the general direction of your group of friends.

“He’s such a show off,” Remus drawls into your ear. You can hear him smiling.

You giggle and twist in your seat so you can look at him. He looks extraordinarily pretty tonight, in dark brown pants and a forest green t-shirt, his dark hair (in need of a cut) windswept and going in every direction possible. You want to kiss him so bad your chest burns. On the way here, he’d had his hand on your thigh for half the drive and you didn’t say a word the entire time. You think maybe you’re unhealthily obsessed with him.

“What?” Remus asks curiously, lips parted, and you realise you’ve been staring too long.

Heat washes over your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

“Have I got something on my face? You’re staring at me like I’ve grown two heads.”

The way he says it is like he knows exactly why you were staring at him. Desperate for an escape, you stand before you even know what you’re doing.

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” you declare to your friends in general. You purposefully avoid looking at Remus, afraid you’ll keel over and die. “Anyone want more?”

You get a few yes’s and one “I’m coming,” from Remus, which completely ruins the point. You’d tell him so but that would mean admitting you’re sickeningly obsessed with him. You allow him to tag along.

Sirius gives you a look as you leave with Remus, eyebrows raised like he knows exactly how much you like his friend. You’re sure he does. He doesn’t miss much, that boy. And he’s been giving you looks ever since you arrived. You flip him off behind Remus’s back.

Once at the popcorn stand, Remus insists on paying. It’s irritating, really, how sweet he is.

“Remus,” you groan, swatting his wallet away. “I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, dove,�� he says. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

And he gives you a smile so staggering that you let him pay for the popcorn. You’re still grumbling about it on the way back to your seats.

“You’re too nice,” you tell him, plonking down in your seat with a frown. “Stop being so nice, I’m sick of it.”

Remus laughs, really laughs, the kind that has you fighting a smile even though you’re annoyed at him. He’s got a lovely laugh.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding the opposite. He’s got a smarmy grin on his mouth, all teeth. You’d pummel him if he wasn’t so pretty. “Do you want me to be mean instead?”

You glare. “You’re mean to everyone else,” you say, which is entirely true and you both know it. He wouldn’t look after a drunk Sirius like he did you if his life depended on it.

To your surprise, Remus flushes. “Well, I—“

He’s interrupted by a yell of his name from Sirius, and then you realise they’re all calling your name, too. Shouts of “Remus!” and “Y/N!” and “Look!”

You twist in your seat, confused.

“What—?”

And then you see it. The kiss cam is on the big screen, colours and words blazing. And just your luck, it’s your face blown up ten times as big on the screen, your eyes wide and your lips parted as you stare back at yourself, caught mid-sentence. You think maybe you’re dreaming, because right next to your face is Remus’s. He’s just as shocked as you.

You turn to look at the real Remus, just as he turns to look at you. Your friends are having a field day, shouting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You ignore them.

“I …” You’re not sure what to say, your mouth filling with nothing but silence. You want badly to kiss him. You’ve always wanted to kiss him, and you think everyone but Remus knows it.

“We don’t have to,” he says quickly, mistaking your silence for unwillingness. “It’s just a stupid kiss cam.”

But you do have to, because he’s Remus, and maybe this stupid kiss cam is the only chance you’re ever gonna get. You swallow the nerves that are building up in your throat and ignore the fact that Sirius is practically screaming at the two of you from three seats down.

“I want to,” you say quietly, too quietly, and Remus doesn’t hear you over the hubbub. So you try again. “I want to.”

Remus goes very still, his lips parted and his chest heaving. Suddenly it feels like it’s just the two of you. He stares at you like you’re made of gold and your heart does somersaults.

Then he smiles. “Me too.”

He brings his hand to your jaw and you barely have time to bask in his touch before he’s kissing you. Really kissing you. He tastes like butter and sugar and he smells exactly like he always does. His hands are soft but sure where they cup your face and your chest is on fire, your heart is punching and kicking and you worry you might pass out in his arms you’re so giddy.

Your friends are screaming bloody murder, Sirius the worst of them all, and you’re sure the kiss cam has probably panned away from you by now but you can’t stop kissing him. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until you can’t breathe anymore. You’d go on forever but you’re losing breath and you really do think you’re lightheaded now.

You pull away before you pass out from lack of oxygen. Remus looks as frazzled as you feel, pink in the cheeks and his lips all swollen and his eyes are bright and burning and holy shit, you just want to kiss him again.

You almost do, but then Sirius and Frank and Lily appear and clap your backs, shout words you can barely hear and Sirius is so happy he looks like he might burst into tears. You laugh, half-delirious and sick as a dog in love with Remus, and somehow your hands end up tangled with his in his lap and your thigh is crushing his and he’s looking at you like he wants to kiss you again.

Lucky you, he does kiss you again. And many more times after that, no kiss cam needed.

thank you for reading! feedback & reblogs are appreciated 🤍

#★ mal writes!#ღ remus #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader fluff #marauders x reader #marauders fic #marauders #marauders x fem!reader

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mitsua · 3 months ago

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Redamancy

Loving someone who loves you back.

🪼: so this was supposed to be an Izuku snapping at reader but I couldn't bring myself to write about this man being mad... I´m sorry not sorry but maybe in the future I could actually get that done. Maybe? Idk today I wanted to cry myself to sleep.

Warnings: rude people, mentions of self-depricating thoughts (but none explicitly written), low self-steem, crying

Genre: reverse comfort Series: Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × GN! Y/N Words' count: 1.26k

Izuku's known as a selfless man, a selfless hero—your selfless hero at that.

He's always looking out closely while on patrol to do not let the slightest suspicious thing get out of his sight and catch danger in any form that may present itself, day by day.

People recognize him, greet him, smile polightly, shout excitedly, ask for a photograph with him, a signature—yes, his status has really given him a grand popularity.

But just as much as he greets back, gives small chats, returns a bright smile, shouts back, takes photographs and gives off signatures, he also encounters rude people every once in a while.

He brushes it off, he really tries to when it does so happen.

His first thought being 'they might just have a bad day, everyone has it!', always empathazing and letting people's disrespect get lost in the wind.

Until that wind comes back in a hurricane when the bad day hits him instead.

He brushes it off, or so he thinks. But he knows and you know too—everything anyone's ever told him got into him one way or another.

Thus making him the person you're so proud of to call today your husband, yes, you admit Izuku has this great mindset of turning the imposible—even if it's with tiny steps—a little more possible with progress.

He has a contagious positivity, you know it and he knows it.

'Then why can't I be positive today too? They need reassurance,' he thinks as he just got on a mission out of the city on places were being too powerful or too weak were seen badly.

He's tried greeting, smiling, but has only received scoffs and some offensive comments towards heroes in general. A tiny percentage of the poblation going too far and talking about him in specific being the last drop to spill the glass.

He gets in his hotel room—after being ignored by the workers when he entered and gave a small 'goodnight' out of his habit of being polite—plops in the bed and moves his hands to rest on top of his eyes.

'Don't cry,' he pleads himself. 'They're way more debastated here, you must show a reassuring attitude to let them see heroes mean no harm.'

A tear falls, then a second one and a third one.

It's not until he's fully sobbing with all the harsh emotions he bottled up in the day or even when he was still in the city that he hears his phone had your shared favorite song as your contact's ringtone that he stops spiralling further. A videocall from you.

"Hi! I just wanted to call to tell you goodnight quickly, I know you must be tire-" a sob. You heard him sob once, then twice.

"Izuku?" You got worried, he still hadn't said anything and he got his camera turned to the ceiling that could barely be seen due to the lack of light in the room.

Thinking he might have had a rough day you come up with a quick plan to help him.

"Hey, I know you're usually the one talking but I'll kindly request to do so tonight," you ask and even though he didn't answer either way you spoke again, "alright, and-well, I know I said I'll talk but I'd like to do something else as well..."

For a moment there was complete silence, then bed sheets being shifted around and a couple of grunts coming from your side. It gave Izuku's mind the chance to start wondering towards self-depricating thoughts again, until he heard something close to a documental.

"Aaand with that final blow Pro-hero Deku achieves victory and citizens' safety once again! ...Watch him throw his fist in the air meaning peace has been brought to us again!" A male commenter's vivid voice declared. "Deku helped a grown adult cross the sidewalk, look at this cute pictures!" Then a female's. "Oh, I'd kill to get Deku to patrol in my city," a foreigner's voice mentioned exhasperatedly.

You were showing him a copilation of videos fans of his had made of all his greatest and little heroic actions. Each of them spoke so highly of him—discussed and analyzed his movements and in-the-moment decisions through and through—just as he once did with the heroes he admired. He now was one of them, people admire him.

He could see and feel people's positivity reaching out to him, to help him too. By now, his tears had stopped, only a few sniffles could be heard.

"And last but not least," you whispered to do not break the comforting low volume tonight's call has had, "So, what do you think about Deku?" a reporter's voice. Izuku perked up at this and you internally celebrated you could see more of his face now that he's grabbed his phone with both hands and brought them closer to watch the video you were reproducing in your laptop.

He recalled that voice and that question. "The kindest and brightest people I've ever met, really." You answered.

This interview had been made by fans all across the country once the news about Deku's fiancé were leaked out. You turned to admire Izuku who had been surrounded with more paparazzi. The camera caught it all.

He remembered hearing that voice only faintly behind him.

You've both had been returning from a date and (un)fortunately been caught by a fan of his. People crashing into each other to get a hold of you two. They managed to separate you from him to interrogate you individually as on their plans.

But once he started politely answering some of their questions, he couldn't hear anything else than his voice and cameras' clicking.

You never told him they had interviewed you too, how could he not seen or thought about that?

Izuku observed keenly through the whole thing. You only spoke praises and your eyes, oh your eyes, they kept solely on his form.

Sure, you apologized a couple of times for going out of topic or speaking too much—'just as I'd do,' he thought—but kept on doing it seemingly in an unconscious manner.

"Why'd you choose Deku?" their last question. "Izuku, he has taught me about many good things in life I can no longer count them with both hands, he's been the sweetest and most honest being I've known-also, a greatly empathetic and understanding person, and for that I admire him even more, but also know about some of his struggles and as my love grows stronger each day my heart begs to help him, I want to help him too."

Your eyes got glassy as you spoke, the people got silent, internally crying for such words from you and both of you being so lucky for being with each other. As some started cheering you both and cooing, you'd made it closer to him until you could catch him by surprise in the middle of his last question with a peck on his cheek.

Then the screen turned black.

Now you both were sniffling...

"I love you Izuku, I really hope I can show you and help you just as much as you've done for me." You expressed firmly, closing your laptop and smiling through some tears.

"Thank you, thank you so much-I-I really appreciate I do-don't know what to say-" "-don't worry, there's no need Izuku, I, I just hope my message has gotten through..."

"It did," now that he had the screen closer, it enlighted a bit more his face and you could see him smiling too. "I love you too."

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butteronabun · 27 days ago

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“I heard Kaeya and the others are going to join.”

“What costume are you going to wear?”

“Are you going to participate this Halloween?”

Amidst all these questions, Diluc still doesn’t lift his head from the paperwork. You take notice of this. It doesn’t really mind you, because you know how he is - dedicated to his job and takes it seriously. But despite that, you know he’s listening, even if it’s about trivial matters.

Him already paying attention — even if he isn’t facing you — is already enough, you think. ( But you also know that you shouldn’t be lying to yourself. )

“Diluc?”

“No.” is his reply.

You pout at that. “Why not?”

“I’m not interested,” He says, and turns to another paper before signing it. “And I have a bar to run. At this time of the year, it’s going to be busy.”

The bar is always busy, though, your mind supplies. But he’s right. Angel’s Share is definitely going to be a hotspot for Mondstadt, especially this spooky month. “I’ve already seen the spooky decorations in your tavern, and you not wearing anything just defeats the purpose of Halloween.” You gasp in mock horror. “Oh no. . . the bartender is just going to wear his regular bartender suit!”

“Yeah.”

You huff. What a kill-joy! Now this ruins your plans. You’ve talked to the maids before this conversation—how you’ve wanted to see him enjoy this event, by wearing silly costumes or even consuming candies together. They also did agree that the illustrious Master Diluc deserves a bit of fun.

Plus, as much as you adore his bartending outfit—it’s damn Halloween!

Then, an idea pops into your head.

“Ah. Diluc.”

“Hm?”

You hesitate—should you really say this? Yeah, you shouldn’t. You should.

You cough. “Should I. . . dress up as a grape?”

Now this. This, you notice, really, really gets his full attention. He finally puts his paper down, and looks at you. He is incredulous, and you suppress the urge to grin. “. . .What?”

“You know, grapes. Your favorite fruit,” You make sure to emphasize, fully knowing what you’re aiming for. All for this to acquire something special—piquing Diluc’s interest. Piquing Diluc’s curiosity.

Diluc stares.

You stare back.

This is so hard. You have to control yourself or you’ll laugh. Will he buy it?

The man frowns. The man frowns, deeply.

“You— you’ll look. . .” Diluc is obviously struggling to form his words. The man is contemplating, probably making sure to say the right thing. You bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles—you already know what he’s gonna say. Ridiculous. He’s gonna say you’ll look ridiculous! Because like hell you’re gonna wear something like that.

“You’ll look delectable.”

Silence lingers in the air.

You sheepishly laugh. “I - I was joking.”

“And I’m not.”

Your eyes grow wide at that. You’re now the one who can’t believe what YOU are hearing. “You’re kidding.”

“And I’m not.” He stands up, papers now forgotten, and you flinch—oh archons, no way he’s— he’s actually approaching you. Diluc’s actually approaching you!

You step backward, lifting a hand to stop him in a panic. “W - W - Wait, Diluc— what are you—“

“The prospect of my lover wearing something flashy such as delicious fruits and the like this season has a low chance, but never zero,” You don’t know where he’s going with this, and it scares you. Maybe this is the real spooky thing. You shouldn’t have pranked Hilie and Moco last night by rattling the chairs again.

This is your karma.

“D-Diluc?” You take another step backward, before your back hits something hard, and you yelp. You’re not sure what it is? A table? A drawer? The wall? You can’t tell. All you can see is how Diluc gazes at you intensely.

“But really. As grapes? I say that you’re only up to your ‘absurd marketing tactics’ again, but. . .” Diluc stops in front of you, and he’s close enough for you to catch a whiff of his scent.

(You gulp.)

A small smile makes its way to his handsome features. “This is a bit bold of you, love.”

Yes. You know of the consequences - you know its implications. Diluc’s significant other dressing up as a cluster of grapes! The old ladies and the maids will definitely have a field day! But your lover? Who likes eating grapes?

Oh, you pulled a risky move.

And Diluc’s just playing your game.

“I was just kidding,” you mutter, as you look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. You didn’t even see this coming—how your ruse will get you so far.

Diluc grabs your chin with his thumb and index finger, and gently turns your head so you can face him again. “I know.”

“. . .Ok.” You attempt to change the topic. “Join me for Halloween, then.”

“But aren’t I already? I promised that I’ll be giving out candies to the children with you.”

“That’s not enough,” You whine. “You’re not wearing any ‘stume.”

“‘Stume?” Diluc’s smile widens, amused.

“Short for costume.”

Diluc sighs through his nose. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

You lit up a little. “Really? You’ll do it for me?”

“Of course,” He leans in, and tenderly pecks your lips. Your chest swells with warmth. “For you.”

You manage to contain your squeals. Oh, your dream is going to come true. You should prepare and head to your maids immediately! Diluc says that he’s going to think about it? Nonsense. He’s already agreed, even if he said he’ll think about it. So it’s game on!

“Though. . . on one condition.”

You lift a brow at this. “Huh?”

“You’re gonna wear the grape costume you’ve mentioned.”

You feel yourself crack slowly. “Diluc. No.”

Diluc cups your jaw, his eyes lowering halfway. “I guess we don’t have a deal, then.”

“DILUC? I’ll look stupid in there!”

“Not in my eyes,” He kisses you once more. “I think you’ll look endearing.”

“NO!”

#diluc x reader #HAPPY HALLOWEEN #idk what this was #LMAO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#diluc is one step forward it seems 🤷🏻‍♀️#note to self. don’t joke around diluc anymore because he’ll take you seriously #or make you eat ur words

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trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

Text

with me + part twenty-one

authors note: here it is, friends! i def focused more on the family unit vs friends. i also probably broke some wrestling and wwe protocols/rules. don't care. issa story. let's use our imagination, friends.

hope it lives up to the buildup! low key have had the ending scene written for forever and am so happy to finally have it out.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You had a plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan that was quickly squashed and thrown out the window the moment you stepped foot in your bathroom and glanced at the mirror.

More a stare, but that’s understandable because the last thing you expected to do was wake up to find yourself with a baby bump.

It’s not like your stomach has ever been fully flat, but anyone who’s ever been pregnant knows that a baby bump has a different kind of look. A different kind of feel.

And all of that is wonderful, a major surprise, but it’s also something that ruins your plans entirely because you haven’t even told Callie about your pregnancy.

The plan was for you and Joe to sit Callie down and tell her about the baby, but said baby has decided to make his presence known regardless of your plan.

It’s still mind blowing to you that you’re already showing, and with as much depth to your bump, at freshly three months. You didn’t even start showing with Callie until you were four months.

There’s no way this isn’t a boy, a boy who’s clearly going to be a big boy just like his daddy.

You try not to think too much about what that might mean delivery wise.

The excitement and happiness easily sets in as the shock wears off, and you must spend a good ten minutes just admiring the first physical sign of life growing inside of you.

You can’t wait to tell Joe, but it’s that though that stops you for a second.

This is a beautiful, wonderful development that would be cheapened if shared via technology. Even a FaceTime video feels not special enough. You want to do everything you can to keep these updates for him in person, so a revised plan is quickly created.

Hide it.

Going to Philadelphia where it’s already chilly makes that a little easier, but dodging too much physical interaction with Callie and your mom, who flew in the night before to fly to Philly with you and Callie, isn’t the easiest, but it’s doable.

Just like this plan.

It’s a plan that somehow, by the grace of God, carries you to travel day, to the airport and even the terminal as you touch down in the city of brotherly love.

Because of a lot of different factors, the most important regarding privacy and even safety, Joe doesn’t meet you at the airport. He instead sends a car to meet the three of you, which you’re partially grateful for as it gives you yet one less chance for him to find out about your baby bump indirectly vs you showing him yourself.

Granted, having to hide a baby bump from three of the most important people in your life is no easy task, especially with Callie who loves to be all over you. Which, normally, you don’t mind because you adore her affection, but it’s just redirecting that focus from your abdomen that’s a pain in the ass.

And you get a bit of a pass when not even a good five minutes into the Airbnb, which is nice as hell, Callie’s sweet voice is shouting with all of the excitement she can muster in her tiny little body.

“Daddy!”

Joe rounds the corner of the kitchen island and drops to his knees just in time to catch Callie who throws herself into him. They’re about what and what when it comes to excitement in seeing each other.

It brings a smile to your face. Their love for each other is probably your favorite thing in this whole world.

Joe greets your mom who is already talking about how she needs to go grocery shopping so she can cook, which you’re not entirely opposed to.

The less you have to do involving that, the better.

But, it’s when he comes toward you, you do your best to be subtle with the placement of your hand on his chest to keep that separation as he kisses you. It’s not subtle enough though, because you catch the peculiar look he shoots your way, and you’re certain if not for Callie pulling his attention to the artwork she’d created for him, he’d call you out on the spot.

But Callie always comes first, and you’ve never been more grateful.

It’s that distraction that allows you to sneak upstairs where you easily find the room Joe already has his stuff in. Emptying only some of the contents, you’re mainly only concerned with hanging up your dresses.

And once that’s done, you decide it’s now or never, walking into the living room where Joe is playing with Callie.

“Callie, I need to talk to your daddy real quick.”

As expected, she’s a pouting, protesting mess. “Mommy, nooooo.”

“It’ll be real fast baby, like ten minutes.” Bargaining with your four year old to talk to your boyfriend, who is also her dad….definitely another thing not on your 2024 bingo card..

However, this is a semi acceptable temporary swap, but not enough for her to not use her little tablet and literally set a timer for ten minutes.

Rolling your eyes, you wave Joe over. “Girl, you are so dramatic.” She’s clearly been hanging around Alexis too much. You didn’t even know she knew how to do that.

Joe meets you at the bottom of the steps. “Better hurry up, we on the clock.”

It takes tremendous effort not to flip him off. “Shut up.”

The bedroom door is barely closed before he’s asking with all the attitude, “now you gon tell me why you acting funny?”

It’s impossible not to roll your eyes. Nothing gets past this man. “You’re so damn dramatic just like your daughter.” It’s gotta be the light skin in him. “Sit down.” He opens his mouth, probably to say something else smart, but you remind him, “hurry up before she comes beating on the door. You know she loves her daddy time.”

That seems to do it, or at least enough for him to begrudgingly drop his bulky body down on the edge of the bed. Forever impatient, he asks again, “well?”

With another shake of your head, you decide to put this man child out of his misery. Walking over so you’re only a couple inches away from him, your hand moves under the layers of clothing as you lift them over your stomach.

“This is why I was acting funny.” It’s impossible to hold back the smile on your face at the way his eyes light up with a perfect and expected combination of enjoyment and shock. “Good enough reason?” Naturally, his big hand reaches to feel the swell of your belly, the first physical sign of the child growing inside of you. “I knew you’d feel it if you hugged me, and I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

“You’re showing….” It’s such an obvious statement, but you know it comes from such a special and meaningful place for him.

“I am,” you answer, watching him continue to rub your stomach, like he’s trying to make sure it’s real, that this is real. “And that’s how I know this is definitely a boy, because I didn’t start showing this much with Callie until I was four, maybe five months.” And you just hit three months officially last week. “Watch him have your big ass ears and feet.”

Joe tugs you closer, lips pressed against your stomach. It makes your heart swell. His gaze then lifts, eyes full of curiosity, “does she know?”

“No. That’s been hard too, trying to hide it from her. Because I refused to tell her without you.” It would literally kill you to deprive him of that opportunity. Even more, you’re not sure you even feel entirely comfortable doing as such. It feels so inherently wrong to do or share anything major like this with her without Joe’s help or input, preferably the former.

“I told you. I’m gonna do everything right this time….” You lean down and kiss his forehead, asking in an equally low voice. “Are you still cool with me going to the awards with you?”

He stares at you with utter confusion “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shrugging, you explain, intentionally not stating the real reason you’re unsure. He can read between the lines. “Well, my dress is tight and there’s no way in hell you won’t be able to see my bump in it. Any of my dresses for this weekend, really.”

You’re just thankful you can still wear them even with this almost overnight curveball of your belly suddenly extending more.

Joe’s gaze softens as he lays his hands on your hips, holding you protectively. “Y/N, I haven’t a fucking ounce of desire to try to hide this pregnancy. I don’t want to publicly announce it per se, but I don’t give a fuck who at WWE knows that we’re having another baby. I’m happy about this, over the fucking moon. Let them see you’re pregnant. I don’t care.”

You know this. Deep down, you wholeheartedly know this. But there’s always this annoying string of fear you have have of doing something to mess up or fuck with all of his accomplishments. You know how much he went through to get to where he is, and you’d never ever do anything to risk that.

“Okay.” His reassurance means a lot to you. It’s exactly what you need. With a sigh, you ask, curious and hopeful, “so, can we tell Callie about the baby now and then let my mom see I’m showing?”

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.”

His agreement was a given, but it’s still a massive relief. “Thank you cause wearing all these clothes got me sweating and shit, and hiding it from my mom has been really hard.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t even start that shit. One of us has to be employed.” You move for the door to call Callie when he stops you. “Yes?”

His big hands snake around to your ass, giving a gentle yet firm squeeze. “I prefer you in nothing anyway.”

Ugh. Tonight can’t come fast enough. “You’re so nasty….” You love it, though. Besides, It’s been way too long. Stealing a kiss, you walk over and open the door, calling out, “Callie! Come here, baby!”

This little girl comes speeding up the stairs and runs into the room, instantly jumping back onto Joe who makes a fake grunt sound as he falls back on the bed with her on his chest.

“Sis, if you don’t stop all that running…..” The older she gets, the more it seems like she has all this energy she doesn’t know what to do with. Ya’ll should be putting her in gymnastics instead of ballet.

“Baby………” Her giggles die down as Joe stops tickling her, sitting up and kissing her temple, eyes closing for a bit. He missed her so much. “You remember how grandma told you where babies come from?”

She nods, happily explaining as if you and Joe need a refresher on this topic. “Jesus tells the angels to put a baby in a mommy’s belly, so the baby can have a mommy and daddy.”

It’s not exactly the type of explanation you would have given, but you also don’t know if you could have done much better with such a question being asked on the spot like that. So, it’ll do for now.

“That’s right.” No need to take her little joy at that clear, concise explanation she’s clearly proud of. Even if it’s a bit…..off. “And we got the best baby in all of baby heaven.” You bop her nose and she giggles. “But Calista….the angels came to see mommy again.”

You can see that she’s partially picking up what you’re implying, but it’s Joe who does the honors of sharing the outright news. He angles her, so she’s looking at him as wel. “Your mommy and I are having another baby, Callie Bear,” Joe explains as you lift your garments again to show Callie your stomach. “You’re gonna be a big sister.”

She gasps loudly and points. “Mommy! Your tummy is bigger!”

Laughing, you explain, “that’s right. It’s gonna keep getting bigger because that means the baby is growing.”

Your eyes water as she reaches over to feel on your stomach, happily exclaiming, “I’m gonna have a baby sister!”

Laughing, you remind her, “or brother.”

She doesn’t seem to hear or care too much about that, immediately asking the two of you, “can I play with the baby?”

Joe handles that one, answering so effectively “when she or he gets a little older, yes, but not when they’re still really little because you have to be really careful with babies.”

“When is the baby coming?”

“September.”

She’s instantly annoyed, crossing her arms. “That’s a really long time!”

Both you and Joe laugh at that one as you readjust your clothes, “it’ll go by really fast. Trust me.” Leaning over, you ask her, already knowing the answer ahead of time. “You wanna help me and your daddy tell grandma about the baby?”

Your mom already knows about the pregnancy, but this will be her first time seeing your bump. Beyond that, you know she’ll play dumb for the sake of not wanting to deter Callie’s excitement.

She freaking cheers, fists raised and everything as she hops off Joe’s lap and reaches for both of your hands. “Come onnnnn.”

Obliging Callie, each of you holding one of her hands, Joe shoots you a look, conveying all of his happiness and love.

And you reciprocate it right back.

Life is so damn good right now.

———-

The Hall of Fame awards is definitely a night to remember, starting with all of the hoopla that comes with the preparation. Kaylah comes over to Joe’s Airbnb to get ready with you, which is appreciated. Of course, Alexis comes over from her hotel as well. It ends up being a fun girls thing with you actually noticing and missing the presence of Bianca and Trinity, though you know Bianca’s flight doesn’t come in until tomorrow morning and logistically, it’s just easier for Trin to get ready at her and Jon’s Airbnb.

Still, it’s a bit of an ordeal squeezing into your gown. Out of the three dresses you purchased for the weekend’s events, the Hall of Fame number was already the most snug prior to your bump appearing almost overnight. Thankfully, it’s workable, and it does look good on you still. It’s just, obviously, tighter in the stomach area than you would have liked.

There’s no way in hell people won’t be able to see you’re pregnant. Ain’t enough bloating in the world.

But, the minute you walk down those steps, and Joe lifts his attention from the phone in his hand, you’re reminded again how unbothered he is by the fact that most of his colleagues in the WWE will know that you two are expecting. The gentle way he cradles your bump and equally gentle kiss against your forehead as he assures you how beautiful you look washes away any and all anxiety.

And it’s just the cherry on top when Callie gushes over how much you look like a Disney princess. There are additional compliments, but the ones from your two favorite people in this entire world easily snatch the top spot.

There’s a bit of renewed anxiety when arriving at the actual awards, but Joe’s hand is firmly around yours, never once loosening or his grip slipping. That makes a world of difference to you. The anxiety is also depleted by the fact that the two of you, which makes a lot of sense, are seated by the twins. Being around Kaylah and Trinity is so relieving, and Trin nearly tackles some female wrestlers when she runs over to hug you, feeling on your bump. You really missed her.

Her energy is so infectious.

She even manages to convince you and Kaylah to make a couple TikToks with her in the bathroom before the ceremony begins, one of them being some apparent trend the clock app has started based upon the whole Mariah fiasco. You don’t really understand it, but Hollaback Girl is that song, so you go with it freely and play the role well.

It’s their presence, along with the twins even, that keeps you comfortable and relaxed when Joe has to leave toward the end of the night to prepare for his induction speech for Paul Heyman. And when your man’s music hits, followed by him walking out a few minutes later, you’re grateful you’re already with child, cause he most definitely would be putting a baby in you tonight. Joe is just an insanely attractive human being, but that black suit, the swagger, the confidence, it’s all a dangerous combination.

He looks so damn good. As embarrassing as it is, it’s hard for you to pay attention to his actual speech. You’re certain it’s just as good as he looks, but your pregnancy hormones have accelerated your sex drive more than typical because all you can think about is his beautiful, long, thick dick inside of you, filling you to the brim in the way that only he can.

There’s a couple of shifts in your seat during said speech as well.

And, of course, this fine ass motherfucker notices because he notices everything. It takes your entire arsenal of self-control not to punch him when he rejoins you, casually whispering in your ear, “you need me to take care of that for you, mama?”

You hate him.

But, you also love him.

Still hate him though.

Not enough to nearly jump his bones the minute the two of you are alone in the back of the SUV. Not even the length of your dress can get in the way of you spreading your thighs across his lap. His thick, spread legs allow you to feel the bulge of him against your center. It nearly makes you come right then and there, fully clothed and all.

“When we get back to that house….”

He chuckles, deep voice purring in your ear as his hand slips under your dress, pushing aside your panties to tease those deliciously talented fingers across your already wet folds. “What? Tell daddy what you want, baby.” You squeeze his shoulders as he dips two fingers in, and it takes everything in you not to moan out his name. “You want this pussy in my mouth? Hmm. Want daddy’s dick inside you?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak, just furious nodding against his shoulder as his fingers make a hitherto motion inside you, your pussy contracting against him.

It’s fucking disgusting how pathetic you are for this man, how all your defenses crumble and shatter just from one fucking touch.

And it’s embarrassing as hell when the driver opens the car door, and you have to quickly reorient yourself as Joe yanks his fingers out of you, leaving you just as much a mess but an incognito mess.

Yeah…..you really do hate this man.

Just not enough to nearly be ready to run up the stairs and rip his clothes off the minute you step back into the Airbnb.

But, that’s only a dream, a hope, a fantasy.

Because you two are met with the peacefully sleeping, tiny body of none other than Callie right smack dab in the middle of your and Joe’s bed.

You’ve never in your entire life been both so awestruck and devastated at the exact same time.

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you consider asking Joe to fuck you in the bathroom. You’re just that feral for him, but logic quickly rushes back in, and you’re sickened by just the idea of having sex literally feet away from where your daughter sleeps. Locked door or not.

It’s a bummer, for sure, but you and Joe adjust accordingly, able to actually undress and shower together without giving into carnal temptations for the sake of your little girl…..your cock blocking little girl, but still your little girl.

And truthfully, it all balances out the moment you and Joe slide in bed, keeping Callie in the middle to not disturb her, because you’re filled with so much happiness having all of your family together.

That…..that is what’s most important to you.

———-

Social Media-Verse

ROMAN REIGNS AND Y/N OFFICIAL THREAD:

OP: Ya’ll!!!! Y/N is pregnant. Some videos and photos got leaked from the WWE Hall of Fame awards, and she was there with Roman sporting a very obvious baby bump.

User 1: I swear this shit been more entertaining than that “who did I marry” TikTok storytime. Congrats, though!

User 2: It’s 2024. Why are we still commenting on whether people are or are not pregnant? She could just be bloated.

User 3: @/user2: ……you clearly have no kids. That’s very much a baby bump. There’s even a clip of Trinity (Naomi) running up and rubbing her stomach. Same with Roman. Sis is pregnant lol

User 4: Wow! I wonder how far along she is? Looks maybe four or five months. Congratulations to them. Their daughter is so stinking cute. I know this new baby will be too.

User 5: So was she dealing with all that bullshit while pregnant? Wow, that’s rough. No wonder she started crying on the live. That’s gotta be a lot.

User 6: I know this has been said but my God, she is gorgeous. The silk press. The melanin. The body. She really gives off 90s Gabby Union beauty. Roman got a bad one for sure.

User 7: Ya’ll seen that viral TikTok of them from last night when they were walking in? The one with that Million Dollar Baby song? Someone added a slow-mo filter, and I swear it awakened the bisexual in me. I don’t know who I want to fuck more: him or her.

User 8: @/User7: I mean both is an option….

User 9: Seeing the lil clips of them interacting, I’m not surprised sis is knocked up again. I know he be folding her like a pretzel. You can tell he talks her through it.

User 10: I know I saw a few fonts were skeptical of Jadah and Y/N’s story, but we’ve seen this man speak up for and step out with Y/N more than we ever did with Jadah. It’s obvious they were telling the truth. He may have been married to Jadah, but his heart is clearly and has always been with Y/N. The actions speak for themselves.

User 11: I still can’t believe we got to watch and witness this whole ordeal for free.

User 12: I wonder if she’ll be at WM?

User 13: @/user12: you know she will be. If she’s at the HoF, I can’t see her not being there, since she’s already in Philly. I just wonder if he’ll have her ringside again?

User 12: @/User13: I doubt it. Not after everything that’s gone down. There’s a lot of psycho weirdos in the wrestling community. She’ll probably be in a suite like Kaylah was last year (Jey’s wife) with the kids just for safety reasons.

User14: I think it’s wild how people have really romanticized this Brad/Angelina/Jennifer bullshit. She fucked, got pregnant by, and stole a woman’s whole husband but we’re on here talking about ‘oh, but she’s pretty’ and giving her a pass? This generation is guttersnipe filled.

User 15: @/User14: Have you caught up on the whole story? Y/N’s ex ‘best friend’ lied about a ton of shit. Yeah, Jadah was his wife, but she herself acknowledged it was an open marriage with Roman. I think she even said she doesn’t like calling it a marriage because she never loved him and always saw them more as roommates. It’s actually a sad situation in a lot of areas, but all parties were consenting. Not necessarily orthodox, but also not anything to judge and persecute over. Two people met, fell in love, and started a family. What’s so wrong about that?

User 16: Here come the Bitter Betty’s. Ain’t ya’ll the same ones that was saying he was about to start hiding Y/N and their daughter with blankets and shit like Michael? Still waiting on that, btw.

User 17: I went through his whole IG feed and found not one personal/non-kayfabe post EXCEPT for the one he made about the situation. He’s also now openly taken Y/N to an event, something we never saw with the ex-wife. This man is private as hell but hasn’t hesitated to make it clear he’s not hiding her for shit. I suspect they won’t be as public with their kids, but that makes all the sense. He clearly does love her, though.

User18: Trinity uploaded a TikTok of her and Y/N lip singing to Hollaback girl!!! Ya’ll she’s seen the trend! Omg I am DECEASED! Y/N knows what’s up! Hey girl! If you up here and you and Roman ever want a third person, I’m available.

User19: @/User18: Wait, I’m confused. Please clue me in.

User 20: @/User19: So basically someone dug up a photo of Y/N and Mariah when they cheered together and Mariah is giving a low key shady expression. Someone then made a video with the photo followed up with photos and clips of Y/N looking amazing. Lol. It started a trend, and they added the song Hollaback girl since Y/N was cheer captain, and allegedly, Mariah ass was always jealous because she wanted to be captain but was a ‘hollaback girl’ . Hope that makes sense. Kind of hard to explain. Just type in ‘Y/N Hollaback Girl’ and you’ll see a flood of videos. lol

———-

It’s still somewhat unclear to you just why you expected to spend a lot of time at the house with your mom and Callie. Or with Alexis, Bianca, Kaylah, etc.

You just figured that while Joe invited you two out to see and spend time with him, the actual time spent would be minimal due to how crazy busy he must be.

Boy, were you wrong.

Joe is up early and therefore has you, your mom, and Callie up early to come with him to Lincoln Field.

The actual site of where WrestleMania will be.

Confused but also excited, you don’t hesitate to get ready, the three of you out the door in no time.

It’s pretty freaking cool seeing the field all set up and prepared for WrestleMania. There are some minor areas they’re clearly still working on, but seeing everything before the seats are filled and the lights come on is an experience.

It’s an experience especially for Callie too who hangs onto every word Joe says to her in his explanation of different things for her fifty million questions. She also, quite literally, hangs onto him physically, whether it’s him holding her hand as he walks and shows her around or holding her as he walks and shows her around.

Truthfully, you feel like a bit of a third wheel, invading their daddy daughter bonding, because your mom eventually goes to sit down somewhere complaining about her feet hurting or some other excuse. Joe does his best to keep you included, but Callie makes it clear she is number one on the attention list for this trip. And that’s okay. It’s more than okay, because she should and will always come first.

If anything, it allows you to snap a bunch of photos and take videos, something you made sure to ask Joe you can do before turning into Annie Leibovitz. It’s just too great an opportunity to pass up, to not capture these moments with them, this amazing experience and blending of two of his greatest achievements in this life.

And pregnancy emotions are at an all time high, because there’s no reason for you to get so emotional at the sight of him holding Callie, her head laid peacefully against his shoulder as he talks to people like Tripple H and Paul Heyman, his fucking coworkers and boss, like it’s nothing. And neither man, to your knowledge, says anything about it either which isn’t entirely surprising.

Joe always speaks highly of Paul, an eccentric character but genuinely nice man, something you can tell right away from Joe’s introduction of the two of you at the Hall of Fame. Same with Triple H, Hunter, as he said to call him. You’re especially grateful and happy to meet him, as Joe has expressed how Hunter taking the reins from Vince has resulted in the wrestler’s having more time off to be with family.

Hunter has made it possible for Joe to be able to come and see you and Callie as much as he has over the months.

That’s going to make a huge, beneficial difference in the next couple of months.

For obvious reasons.

Meanwhile, while Y/N spends time with her little family, taking in this beautiful moment. Y/N’s mom sits down. She sits and watches along with Kaylah and Bianca (who’d joined the group about an hour ago) the adorable interaction of her daughter’s growing little family.

The older woman, studying her daughter especially, comments in a leading manner, like she’s trying to hint at something without outright saying it, “that’s a defined baby bump to only be three months….”

Kaylah turns to Y/N’s mom, agreeing, “I know, that’s what I was thinking too, but she’s definitely three months. She said the OB/GYN confirmed her conception date at the appointment when she found out.”

“She looks four months. Maybe even five….” Y/N’s mom looks over at Bianca and Kaylah. “We’re all mothers, have experienced pregnancy….”

“Yes ma’am.” Bianca and Kaylah confirm as the older woman sighs, tapping her painted nails against the side of her face.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

And just like that, they do. Bianca gasps as Kaylah asks in a lowered voice, “you don’t think she—”

“We can’t rule it out. Look at her.” Y/N’s mom gestures across the way, quickly asking for clarification purposes. “Don’t they run on Joseph’s side of the family?”

Kaylah nods, still trying to wrap her head around the insinuation alone. “Yeah, but I could have sworn I read years ago it comes more from the mother’s side. Do ya’ll have—”

The oldest of the three women shakes her head, killing at least that chance. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Bianca makes a face, prompting Y/N’s mom to ask, “what?”

She’s clearly hesitant but eventually shares, “we have a couple on my dad’s side.”

At that, Kaylah gasps again, slapping her hand over her mouth. “We should tell her.”

“No, no, no. We don’t want to get her all worked up.” Y/N’s mom quickly shoots down that idea, knowing her daughter well enough to know that wouldn’t turn out well. “We could be wrong—unlikely—but still. She told me they’ll hear the heartbeat at her appointment on Monday. We’ll find out then.”

Bianca blows out a breath. Talk about a plot twist. “Lord, if we’re right….she gon’ kill that man.”

No one disagrees with her statement either.

———-

WrestleMania Day one arrives, and to the surprise of literally no one, Joe and Josh arrange for you all to be in a suite that’s just as nice, if not nicer, than the one at the Super Bowl.

It’s spacious enough for the lot of you which includes yourself, your mom, Callie, Alexis, Bianca and her fam as well as Kaylah and the kids. It’s actually really nice to have such a commodius area so that the girls can all distract themselves with each other and devices when the actual match starts. The older kids, however, are fully invested in watching Wrestling’s biggest night: part one.

Once again, Joe surprises you by how present and involved he is with you and Callie. She spends a portion of the beginning of the night with him, Joe once again explaining some of the logistics in such a simple and easy for her to understand manner.

He’s so good with her, so patient, so adept at meeting her on her level.

And Callie, of course, loves every second of it, latches onto every word that leaves his mouth. Again, you’re snapping photos of the interactions, a trip to Walgreens to get them printed is one of the first things on your to do list post-Disney.

You’re especially over the moon when you capture the moment Callie gives Joe a special drawing she created for him depicting him standing in the middle of the ring, raising his belt with WrestleMania and ‘Acknowledge Me’ written at the top of the page.

She might or might not have asked for your help with the spelling.

He’s so touched by this, and Callie is ecstatic when he tapes it on the wall of his locker room. It’s also the cutest fucking thing how she yells out “good luck, daddy!” as security escorts the two of you back to the suite.

You may have once been his biggest fan, but she’s clearly snatched that title from you with all the quickness.

But while you were prepared to get comfortable in the suite, catching up on girl talk with the ladies once Callie, Taylor, and Ellie got situated with their tablets, that plan is quickly down the drain when security is back and telling you that Joe has asked for you to join him.

That confuses the shit out of you, because he should be getting ready. Why is he asking for you?

And you tell him as such the minute you’re face to face again.

Arms crossed, you force yourself ignore how fucking good he looks and the urge you have to lick a perfect trail down his defined six pack. “Not sure if you’re aware of this, but you’re on the clock, babe. Tick Tock.” He chuckles and walks over, hand to your stomach. “Seriously, Joe, why am I here?”

He answers it so simply, like it should be obvious. “I want you here, so you’re here.”

Looking around, it’s hard not to notice the crew, the cameras, and everything else that makes you feel even more out of place. “Baby, am I allowed to be back here?”

He ignores that question, light brown eyes trailing over you from head to toe. “Damn, you look good.”

He’s not wrong.

Makeup on point. Silk press pressing to the gods. Your outfit is just the icing on an already delicious cake. The dress is even more flattering than your gown from the Hall of Fame, baby bump and all. And even though it’s cold as shit outside, the building is relatively well-insulated and beyond that, looking your best on such a big night for the man you love takes precedence over comfort and temperature.

“I’m not gonna distract you?” And then he flexes, a subconscious act that has you licking your lips. “Or maybe you’ll distract me….”

Joe smiles and takes your hand. “Come on.” He begins to lead you out of the room, the camera crew following closely, and for a minute, you panic because it’s obvious he’s eased back into his Roman role. Talking his shit as he walks down a hall that’s far from barren, literal fucking Philladelhia Eagles cheering for him while he saunters with all the confidence in the world, never once releasing your hand.

It’s such a strange yet overwhelmingly good feeling for him to be unabashed about you and his love for you. On one of the biggest nights of his career, amidst all the drama and chaos, he has you, front and center, proudly right by his side.

That’s why you also tap back into your “It Girl” era, easily matching his aura and energy because while he may look good as hell in all areas, so do you.

You’re very much equally yoked.

Joe moves ya’ll into a gym area that’s laid out perfectly with weights and equipment for him to pump before the match.

The crew departs for a little while, offering a reason that sounds legitimate enough, but you’re also not that interested or concerned. You’re just happy to have some alone time with Joe.

Leaning back against a stack of mats, you ask him as he starts lifting. “I ever tell you the story about the time Callie called herself running away from home?” The horrified look on Joe’s face is hilarious, so you quickly assure, “relax, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“You just told me our four year old ran away from home…..” When he says it like that, it does sound kind of bad. “What the hell did you do to my little girl?”

Rolling your eyes, you jump right into the explanation, unsure about just how much time you have before the match kicks off. “She's always been a really sweet, easy kid, with the exception of cleaning up after herself. That’s why I always tell you to make her clean because I had a hard time drilling that in her head.” To his credit, he has gotten better with it. “So this was a couple of months before you came back in the picture. I’d been telling her if she didn’t start cleaning up her toys, I was gonna limit her Disney time.”

He’s visibly irritated, switching to the barbell. “That’s foul, Y/N. You know how much my baby loves Disney.”

“That’s exactly why I had to use it. It has to be something she cares about. Anyway, it finally reached a point where I had enough, and told her no Disney for three days. It wasn’t even a week.”

Just recalling the experience brings a humored smile to your face. “Her lil dramatic ass threw a fit and said she was running away to live with grandma. Now, my mom was already coming over to pick her up for the weekend, so I wasn’t too worried. I told her to do what she had to do.” Plus, as a literal four year old, it’s not as if she would ever have the privacy and chance to run away for real.

“So she took a couple things, stuffed them in her lil yellow suitcase, and marched her cute self down the steps to where my mom was waiting for her in the car, cause I had called her to let her know what was happening when sis was throwing her lil tantrum.”

“You upset her. How’d you expect her to react?” You decide to let that lil comment pass. It’s only a matter of time before he finally gets to experience Callie throwing a fit for himself. Then, he’ll get it.

“I go down the steps to bring my mom Callie’s booster seat, and before she can even get it buckled in, my mom tells Callie that before they can play, she needs help cleaning up the house.” You start laughing, shaking your head. “And when I tell you that lil’ girl did such a 180. All of a sudden, she’s latched onto my leg, telling me she’s sorry, she wants to stay with me, she’ll clean anything I tell her, the works. It was hilarious.”

He’s also laughing, hands on his hips in between a set. “She’s definitely strong willed. She gets it from you.”

“She gets it from us,” you correct, intentionally emphasizing the last word. Calista is the perfect combination of the both of you, the product of your love and the resilience of said love. “Come on.” You straighten up and motion to the weights. “I’ll count you off.”

His brow lifts curiously, “coming out of retirement for me?”

You suck your teeth, redirecting him. “Shut up and get to lifting, Roman.”

The crew returns not too much longer after you start helping him track sets and reps, but it doesn’t stop the conversation. You can’t tell if him taking to and with you is something to maybe curb nerves or if he just genuinely wants to talk to you. Neither makes a difference because you enjoy this time together, for a variety of reasons. From being able to see and be around this monolithic of a man shirtless, sexy as hell, shared tattoo of your daughters name viewable for all to see, on both of you, to just having ‘one on one’ time to interact as two people in love.

It’s just really fucking nice.

And when it’s just about time for him to go out, he’s gone for a couple of minutes to pray and wet his hair and body before returning looking somehow even sexier.

It should be a goddamn sin to be that fine.

Emotion fills you up as you’re allowed the privilege of placing the ula fala around his neck, something prompted and encouraged by Paul. It’s such a special moment that you don’t take lightly.

“Hey.” You reach for his beard, forcing his gaze on you as you feed last minute encouragement into him. “You got this, alright? Stay in the moment. Keep your focus. Do what you do best. Go out there and kill it.”

He nods, his hand gently rubbing your bump, lips lingering against your forehead as he murmurs, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He gives you one last look and moves to walk out on the stage, Paul following right behind him.

Using the monitors in the Gorilla position, you watch with all the pride in your body as he walks out, so powerful and authoritative. It’s so painfully clear how in his element he is.

He really was made for this shit.

Once he’s in the ring, you have security escort you back to the suite, Callie nearly tackling you with a plethora of questions regarding if you saw “daddy’s walk” and if you “acknowledged him.”

She adores that man so much, and it makes your heart swell.

There’s a bit of disappointment on her end at not being allowed to watch the match, but it’s eased by playing with her cousins.

And together, you and the other ladies are able to enjoy the match, both enjoyable yet stressful for you in particular. You’re not sure if you’ve ever told Joe that there’s always a bit of anxiety on your end when he’s competing.

It pisses you off to no end when people try to say wrestling is all “fake.” There’s a lot of things that’s scripted, but those fucking hits and falls are real as hell. Ain’t shit fake about that. And Joe is so good at selling shit, it’s sometimes hard not to freak out.

Especially this match, as it's physical as hell, which is understandable given the contenders.

But holy hell, do they all put on a show.

As expected, Joe and Dwayne win, meaning night two will be Bloodline Rules with Joe officially securing his latest accomplishment with having the most Main Events at WrestleMania of all time.

You’re so proud of him.

And Callie, as always, is through the moon when she finds out her daddy came out with the win. She’s speeding down the hall when Dwayne and Joe walk backstage, Joe easily handing Paul his belt to catch Callie in a hug.

You let them have their moment, laughing as Callie calls out to Dwayne, “congratulations, cousin Maui!” It makes everyone in the hearing vicinity laugh, really.

Joe walks over, still holding Callie with one arm and leans down to kiss you. Naturally, you reach up and push some of his hair back. God, you love when it gets like this, wild and untamed. It reminds you of when you two—“how are you feeling?”

He gives a default answer that most men provide cause they’re stubborn as hell. “I’m good.”

“Liar. I saw that face you made getting out the ring.” This man’s back gotta be killing him.

He chuckles and squeezes your hip. “I’m good, baby.”

Having to just take his word for it, you two spend a couple more minutes with him before Joe is off to get cleaned up for a press conference.

He says it won’t take long, but that you can take Callie back to the Airbnb since it’s so late if you want. That’s nice in theory, but you know Callie would like to wait for him, would probably throw a fit if she has to leave without her daddy. So, you opt to just wait for him in the SUV as everyone else has already started leaving, your mom included, who is already on her way back to the house.

These people really can’t hang.

Granted, you’re fighting back sleep too, adrenaline finally dying down.

So maybe you can’t hang either.

You’re walking with Callie, flanked by the security team who will escort you to the SUV when Callie turns her head, listening for something, clearly.

This child must have exceptional hearing, or maybe Joe’s naturally deep, baritone voice has traveling abilities that exceed what is normal. Because she certainly hears him, your own hearing only latching onto him saying something about “use your feet.”

And before you can stop her, Callie is on the move.

“Callie!”

“Daddy!” is all you hear before you’re maneuvering through the two guards who just allow her to dash away in the direction of Joe's voice. You can only move so fast, your slightly swollen feet starting to feel the pain from these damn high heels.

So by the time you reach her, calling her name in an almost urgent whisper, it's already too late.

She’s walking onto the mini stage where Joe is conducting his press conference. Turning his head to the side where she entered, his eyes immediately land on Callie, and it amazes you how easily he switches from Roman to Joe.

A small smile is on his handsome face as he moves back in his chair a bit and opens his arms to her. Naturally, she climbs into his lap, hugging him, head on his shoulder.

There’s a chorus of awes from the reporters, and you watch as Joe gently rubs her back and kisses her temple. He whispers something in her ear, and she lifts her head to look at him. They share some kind of unspoken exchange as he helps her back onto the ground where she quickly makes her way back over to you.

Instantly, you grab her hand. “Calista, baby, you cannot run off like that.” It’s hard to be too stern with her when she, technically, just went to see her dad.

And she says as such, explaining with all of the innocence, “I wanted to see daddy.”

A quick glance up and you see Joe shoot you a wink before he’s back in his Roman headspace, making a smartass comment.

You chuckle.

She just wanted to see her daddy.

———-

You’re in the middle of a very good dream that’s interrupted prematurely by tugging on your shirt that you’re all too familiar with. Blinking eyes are met with the sleepy and almost sad face of an awake Calista.

Instantly, you’re forcing yourself to lean up as much as you can with Joe’s big arm securely wrapped around you, his hand on your stomach. He’s snoring lightly, enjoying well deserved sleep after a rough night of brutal physicality. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I can’t sleep….”

And right from that, you know it’s because she has something on her mind. She gets that from you.

“Come here, baby girl.” You pat the empty space on the bed next to you and wait for her to crawl on the mattress where you lay the covers over her to help keep her warm. “What ya thinking about?”

She’s on her back, playing with her fingers as you brush your thumb over her forehead. “Tomorrow is our last day with daddy……” It’s what you were guessing but definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“You’re sad cause you don’t wanna leave, huh?” She says nothing but nods slowly. A heavy sigh leaves you as you juggle your options here. You want so badly for the element of surprise to be kept and maintained, as is Joe’s preference. But, it’s hard to stick with that when your little girl is lying here sad, unable to sleep because she thinks she’s not gonna see her dad again for X amount of time. You try to think of how Joe would want you to respond.

Quickly, you realize he’d want you to do whatever you need to do to take away her sadness.

“Can you keep a secret? You can’t tell anyone. It’s just between you and me, okay?” She’s visibly confused but again nods, acknowledging understanding. “Daddy wanted to surprise you, but he’s flying home with us tomorrow night, and he’s gonna spend the whole week off with us.”

Her eyes light up, that frown quickly morphing into a smile. “Really!”

You laugh, shushing her even though Joe could sleep through WW3. Not to mention how beat he must be from the match. “Yes, but you gotta pretend like you don’t know when he tells you, okay?”

She nods and exclaims happily, “a whole week. That’s a long time!”

Her saying that suddenly pulls out some sadness from you. Joe has never even been able to spend a full week with his daughter. It’s definitely a bitter thing that you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too much.

“Yes ma’am.” You bring your hand to her bonnet, asking in a soft voice, “does that make you feel less sad?” She nods just as quietly, and you lean over to kiss her forehead. “Good.”

As expected, she asks gently, “can I sleep with you guys?”

It’s an easy answer. “Of course, baby.”

She turns her body toward and into you, eyes closing minutes later, followed by subsequent, peaceful sleeping. You follow shortly after, a new, different kind of dream.

Not as inappropriate.

Just as happy.

———-

Night Two of WrestleMania rolls around, and immediately, something is different.

Something feels…..off. It’s very similar to night one in a lot of ways, primarily the schedule and flow of things, along with Joe interacting a lot with you and Callie, as much as he can, at least.

But, he seems off. Like there’s something on his mind that he refuses to admit and/or share.

Everything is almost identical to the first night, essentially the same schedule with you, Joe, and Callie spending time together before he sends you back to the suite with Callie to get her set up with her cousins.

Then he calls back for you about 20 to 30 minutes before the start of the match, and that’s when you really feel it.

He’s in his head a bit, and you can tell by the fact he isn’t as talkative, not distant, just….off.

Waiting until he finishes his set, you walk over and take his hand. “Joe, are you okay?”

There’s an instant dismissal. “I’m fine.” He asks, curious. “Why?”

Shrugging, you’re not sure how to explain it and express as such. “I don’t know…..something just feels off. You seem almost somber.”

“I’m fine, I promise, okay?” He moves his hand to the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His eyes take you in. “I really like this dress.”

Small smile on your face, it’s not enough to distract you from your concern, but it’s appreciated. You definitely saved the best dress for the final night. “It’d look even better on the floor.”

He makes a face, and you giggle. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“You’ve always known this about me,” you point out, sassily but also truthfully. Your freakiness, and his as well, was what naturally connected you two. Everything else that came after seems ordained at this point, like it was always meant to be. “Now stop trying to change the subject.”

He sighs loudly, offering a crumb. “I’m a bit tired, but I’m fine.”

“I know you’re exhausted, baby.” Frowning, you lift your hand to his cheek, beard prickly against your palm. “I really wish you would just take this week to rest. We can do Disney next month. I love Disney, Callie does too, but we love you more and care about your wellbeing more than the fucking mouse.”

It’s true. Nothing matters more to you than the wellbeing of all your family members, and especially Joe with how taxing his job already is.

He shakes his head, moving his other hand to your stomach. “I’ve waited too long already. I’m not waiting anymore, Y/N.”

His words confuse you, truly, because Disney only came up a couple months ago. What’s another month? “Joe—”

“Do you trust me?”

There’s a delay, not because you have to think about it, but because you know he’s about to shut this conversation down.

Voice soft but sure, you answer, “of course, I trust you, Joe.”

His gaze and expression soften as he affirms, “then trust I know what I’m doing, and I’m doing what I want to do.”

This sucks. Knowing there’s something he’s not telling you but that it’s clearly for good reasons. Still, being in the dark doesn’t rub you the right way. But, the last thing you want to do is have him in his head more than he already is, so you agree to drop it..

“Okay.” It’s not okay, but it’ll have to be okay for now.

It’s the same as before, seeing him out, the I love you’s between the two of you seeming a bit more meaningful, a lot heavier. Even watching his spectacular and majestic entrance, the camera panning on his face as he lifts his belt, you can’t shake that feeling that something doesn’t feel right.

———-

One

Two

Three

It doesn’t register. Not immediately, anyway. You know Joe, err, Roman. He’s adept at missing the pin by a margin of a millisecond, and you expect this to be no different, except it is.

Because Cody pins him.

He actually fucking pins him.

So many thoughts are racing through your head. The entire match had you on the edge of your seat, your mom, Bianca, and even Alexis having to remind you several times that Joe knows what he’s doing and everything will turn out fine.

It doesn’t help when Callie falls asleep, because then you can be a bit more expressive and open about your anxiety.

And then he’s fucking pinned.

Racing thoughts easily morph into heightened anxiety when the major thought focuses and clears up in your mind, obvious as fucking day.

Something is wrong.

You know enough about wrestling through your own fan interest and conversations with Joe that most matches are predetermined. However, there are times when the outcome is changed at the last minute, mostly due to unexpected serious injury.

And that’s what your mind lands on: Joe is injured. Enough to where they had to change the outcome of the match.

And that causes panic to rise throughout your whole body.

Moving carefully as Callie is sleeping peacefully on your lap, you ask your mom to sit with her because you need to go to Joe.

You need to see him.

The walk from the suite to the locker room area takes much longer than you’d like it to and only gives your anxiety time to multiply, not to mention the exacerbation by the boisterous sound of the crowd jamming to Cody’s theme song as they celebrate his win.

A win that should have never happened.

You’re so caught up in your head that you don’t even pay much attention to the fact Joe is in the middle of hugging his cousin when security leads you into his space.

His cousin, Dwayne freaking Johnson aka The Rock. Any other time, you’d be a bit starstruck, because kin to your man and daughter or not, he’s still a celebrity.

But, this isn’t the time for that.

As soon as they break apart, you manage to give Dwayne a little nod but immediately go back to hyperfocusing on Joe.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands naturally reach out to feel his shoulders, moving to his forearm. “Is it your wrist?” A thought crosses your mind, remembering a particularly looking nasty body slam into the table. “It’s your back, isn’t it?”

His eyes focus on you curiously as he answers, “I’m fine, Y/N.”

“Bullshit.” You’re not in the mood for his tendency to downplay injuries, not when this one just cost him so much. “You’re hurt. Why else would they change the match outcome?”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, it seems like something dawns on him. He motions to the trainers and others in the room to leave you two alone, a stupid decision considering he clearly needs to be checked out.

When the locker room clears, he speaks again, “Y/N, I’m not hurt, and they didn’t change the match outcome.” His eyes focus on you. “I asked Hunter to lose this match.”

A pause followed by a gasp. “Oh my god, you must have a concussion. Shit, you really need to be checked out.” You turn away for the door. “I’ll get the trainers—”

He calls your name, snatching your hand and pulling you back to him. “I’m not concussed. I know exactly what I’m saying. I met with Hunter and asked to be relieved of the title.”

There goes the racing thoughts that have now shifted from ‘Joe must be seriously hurt’ to ‘Joe must be significantly hurt.’ Because you can’t process what he's, objectively, explaining to you.

There’s no way he would ever…..

And then your mind wanders to a possibility.

“Does this have anything to do with the Mariah situation?” As much as you limited your media consumption during that nightmare, you still saw stuff, read how countless wrestling fans were demanding Joe be stripped of his title, saying that he was an “embarrassment” to the company and didn’t deserve to be the face of WWE. Eyes watering for reasons beyond your comprehension, your chest tightens, asking, “was it—was it because of me and—”

Immediately, he’s reaching for you, assuring, “baby, no, of course not.” He’s wiping at your tears. “I asked for this.”

Him repeating himself confuses you more, and makes you wonder if there was a hit to his head that you missed at some point. “Why–why do you keep saying that?” It’s not making any sense from the first time he said it to now. “Joe, you have to either be concussed or, God forbid, something worse because you clearly don’t know what you’re saying to me.” Shaking your head, you lay it out for him, hoping that maybe it’ll trigger something. “You’re seriously telling me that you asked to lose your title, a title you’ve held for almost four years, a title that’s allowed you to break Hulk Hogan, thee Hulk Hogan’s record, among many, in the main event at Wrestlemania.” Even saying it aloud is ludicrous, forcing out a small laugh at how ridiculous it sounds.

He can’t be for real.

But, then he says it again, just as clear as day. “Yes.”

And suddenly, you’re not as nervous or scared.

You’re pissed the fuck off.

Breaking away from him, you shake your head, doing your best to maintain your composure for the sake of where you are as well as the child growing inside you.

“You worked your ass off to get to where you are now, and you just walk away from it all for what?” It’s that lethal combination of anger and confusion, anger that he would do this to himself when he deserves the world and more. Confusion as to whatever logic he used to make this questionable decision. “What would possess you to—” And it’s then that it slowly dawns on you, that the light goes off. “Oh my god, Joe, you didn’t…..” You can only swallow, emotion washing away the anger. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

But, he tells you the complete opposite. “I’m on indefinite leave starting tomorrow.”

And suddenly everything makes sense. All the pieces start coming together. Trinity and Kaylah being weird and quickly backtracking when Trinity suggested you and Callie go on the road with Joe this summer.

The way all of them seemed to never understand your frustration with Joe for not wanting to start planning for the birth of your baby.

Why he’s been so dodgy about conversations regarding having help for this baby when he can’t be there.

They had to have known, known this was his plan, known that this is what he was going to do.

At a loss of words, you manage a question, one of many circling in your head. “Did you do it because of the baby?”

He shakes his head, pushing back your hair. “Y/N, I asked to lose the title as soon as I got back after meeting Callie for the first time.”

And the inability to process continues because it takes a good minute for you to take in what he just said. In a state of semi shock, mouth slightly ajar, you ask in an almost whispered tone, “what?”

Months…..that was months ago. And beyond that, the first damn time he met his daughter, a daughter he just found out about, he sacrificed the one thing he’d worked his whole life for.

This….this is unreal.

Swallowing with a level of emotion you know is only reserved for you, he further explains, “I knew the moment I met her that I wasn’t about to miss any more of her life that I already had.”

“Joe….” Emotion is a bitch, quickly climbing up and over the wall before you can catch it. Your eyes watering all over again.. “I never would have asked you to do this—-I didn’t want—”

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, quietly murmuring, “I know you wouldn’t have, but this was my decision, Y/N. This is what I wanted.” He repeats those now haunting words from earlier. “Do you know how many days I had off last year?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “35. 35 days out of the whole year. I can’t be a father to her or this baby a month out of the whole damn year. It’s not fair to her, to the baby, to you, or even me.” Determination fills his voice, as he shakes his head. “I want to be there to take her to school and help her with her homework and watch whatever random Disney movie she has on her mind for the day.” You laugh, not even bothering to stop the tears at this point. They’re inevitable. “And I want to be with you. We need time to focus on us. On this baby. Our family.” He moves his hand protectively to your stomach. “I’m not retiring. I’ll come back when the time is right, and I’ll still have creative input with the Bloodline while I’m away.”

Sniffling, you ask him what you already know to be true. “That’s why you would shut down my conversations about when the baby gets here, isn’t it?” Your voice cracks mid-sentence. “Because…because you knew you would be here for us.”

His gaze is so soft, so loving, so vulnerable. “You supported me when I needed it, now it’s my turn.” He nods, looking down at your conjoined hands on your belly. “I’m not missing anything else.”

And that’s what really does it for you. You throw your body against his, arms around his neck, while his easily go around you, holding you close to him.

“Thank you.” You’re such an emotional mess, largely due to pregnancy hormones but also because this is the most unexpected yet most wonderful thing that could have happened tonight. He’ll never understand what this means to you. He gave up his dream for you, for Callie, for this baby, for your family. How does one even have a word to describe just what that means? “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a little longer, murmuring how much he loves you. Joe then guides you on the next steps. “Let me finish up, so we can get out of here, okay?”

It feels almost silly to ask, but a part of you wants to hear him say it, needs to hear him say it. “We’re going home?”

He shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face. You’ve never felt happier than in this very moment.

“We’re going home, baby…”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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