#Reader’s birthday
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Birthday Celebration With Friends—An Imagine
Imagine Newt, Theseus, Queenie, Jacob, Tina, Lally, and Albus celebrated your 30th birthday with you. Jacob made mini gluten-free, dairy-free, and nutmeg-free apple pies (because it’s also Pi Day, and you love pie but have dietary restrictions), Queenie and Lally made your favorite food for dinner, Tina got the place cleaned and set up, Albus and Theseus shopped for the grocery items and also brought over a few games to play, and Newt handcrafted you a gift that you loved.
You all had a great time together, eating, laughing, and playing games. They looked at you with so much warmth in their eyes, and they were so happy to be there with you.
They loved you so much. And you loved them so much, too, and you loved being there with them, too. You were so happy.
It was a great birthday.
———————End of Imagine———————
It’s crazy that I’m 30 now. I’m not in my 20s anymore. Wow. That’s kinda scary lol.
#Fantastic Beasts imagine#Reader’s birthday#The reader turned 30#Friends#Chosen family#Newt Scamander#Theseus Scamander#Queenie Goldstein#Jacob Kowalski#Tina Goldstein#Lally Hicks#Albus Dumbledore#They love you#You love them
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Throughout Heaven and Earth I alone am the Honored One. Happy Birthday, Gojo Satoru!
#HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING 💙 🤍 💙 🤍 💙 🤍 💙 🤍 i genuinely sweated my ass off for this set i hope its not too rough#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#gojo#satoru gojo#jjk#jjkedit#jujutsukaisenedit#jjk gojo#animeedit#tvedit#— daphgifs !#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader#usernik#userzaynab#usersophies
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mini part 4 for gojo day 🧁 next part will probably be the finale. thank you for showing best friend toru so much love even tho he is fairly toxic. art by @ _3aem on twt!! part one part two part three
warnings: a very vague birthday bj, some feelings? MDNI
birthdayboybestfriend!satoru who waits with his phone in his hand ignoring all his other messages and skipping to your contact because he knows you’ll say it at bang on midnight. he is then smiling so hard at his phone suguru actually gets worried.
bestfriend!satoru who obviously has party of the century going on at his place. being the star boy he is, he is soaking up the attention. however he has been dyingggg for your arrival, he makes sure to tell every girl that approaches him that he is booked and busy for today.
bestfriend!satoru who tackles you into a massive hug when he sees you and picks you up just to make sure everyone else sees this. you’re wearing white (his favourite) and he knows for a fact you did that on purpose.
bestfriend!satoru who disregards everyone else’s presents for the time being so he can give you and your presents his full attention. unfortunately he is nosy and had scrolled through your google tab last week so he already knew what two of them were going to be.
bestfriend!satoru who (staying true to character) asks you for a birthday kiss. ‘can i have my last present now baby?’ and then he’s pressed up against you and his familiar taste is all you can take in. ‘toru people can see us’ ‘let them see baby’
bestfriend!satoru who wraps your ponytail around his fist whilst you’re talking. sometimes even pulling you back a bit so he can take a long inhale at your neck.
bestfriend!satoru who is actually very annoyed that he got a hot tub because now there were multiple gawking at you. suguru even wolf whistles at you at one point just to rile him up and he got a mouthful of tub water because of it.
bestfriend!satoru who catches you whispering to suguru and finds he definitely does not like the look of that. you had a worried expression which he made a mental note of to ask suguru about later.
bestfriend!satoru who casually gropes at your chest. (you allow him of course) (however you put an end to it when his fingers start to creep into the material of the lace covering your breasts.) (there were simply too many people present but satoru was content with just holding your tit) (stressball >__<)
bestfriend!satoru who makes his closest friends go round the tub and say what they like about him most. suguru is the only one who gives him a slightly heartfelt message, sukuna calls him ugly, toji calls him an airhead, nanami says he is ‘special’ (whatever that means?), shoko says he makes her want to smoke. and then it’s your turn and gojo actually tears up at your beautiful words. your voice and your eyes staring only ever at him saying that he is your person and you really do think he the strongest individual you know. (then he grabs your face and kisses you and the crowd boos until he stops)
bestfriend!satoru who is dead set on you staying with him for the night. ‘you’re not gonna cuddle your best friend on his birthday?’ and how could you everrrr say no to that.
bestfriend!satoru who has his head on your chest, you hands running through his hair and scratching at your scalp. his thighs are covering yours and he lazily kisses at your collarbone. the tension in the room is thick. you can both feel it. it was simply a game of who would move first. satoru knew you wouldn’t, always the more timid and shy one of the two so he took it upon himself to drag his fingers across the waistband of your shorts. ‘wait toru we can’t i’m, i’m your friend?’ god you were too sweet for this earth. ‘it’s okay baby. we don’t have to, but no one’s gonna know. just us.’ and he litters even more feather light kisses to the spot right below your ear until you were letting out soft little sighs. ‘then. then i want to do it, yk since it’s your birthday.’ he knew you weren’t the most conventional best friends but this, this was further than anything you’d ever done before. and he was on cloud nine.
bestfriend!satoru who was now realizing that he had never experienced true joy before this moment. before he had felt your velvet soft lips wrapped around his tip. your tongue licking at his crown so softly, so sweetly. he’s always been a moaner but now he had no shame in the sounds that were leaving him. ‘that’s it baby, just like that. that’s my girl’.
bestfriend!satoru who was a head pusher. he let you set the pace in the beginning but he was growing desperate, something he hadn’t experienced before. your little mewls as he holds you in place right at the base of his dick. your nose nestled against the faint hairs there, and your tears dropping directly into his skin. he had given you the chance to move but being the amazing best friend that you were you swallowed everything he gave you, even opened wide and let him take a look, that to make sure. ‘fuck baby that was the best gift ever’
bestfriend!satoru who snores like a truck directly into your ears and grinds his hips into your thighs whilst he sleeps.
taglist : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @sukuxna0 @suechii @whozeurdaddy @purp1eha1o @greensunflowerjuna @jjkysnk @tibibibi123 @missthatgirl @macchiatoast @adanfore @namjooningera @jaeminsmilk @tojicvmslut @hachichann
#jjk#jjk x you#gojo satoru#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#gojo headcanons#gojo fluff#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojou satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru smut#jjk headcanons#jjk drabbles#jjk fic rec#gojo fic#jjk satoru#satoru gojo#satoru headcanons#gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#gojo saturo#happy birthday gojo#gojo day
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Simon who made himself your birthday present.
'Cause fuck it, nothing ventured, nothing gained, yeah?
It was actually a spur-of-the-moment thing, sweetheart. It was your birthday, he said happy birthday, you joked that you hadn't received your present yet, and Simon, smooth operator that he is not, responded with, "S'right here, luv."
Oh... shit.
Silence ensues. You blinked in surprise and Simon gave you an even stare. However, he was punching the fuck out of himself mentally because what the fook, Riley?! Didn't last long though because your surprise turned into interest and interest turned into... well...
...Simon naked, on your bed, and under you. Again. Bloody fuckin' hell, him and his mouth.
Not that he's complaining. Not really. Too busy fucking and sucking, and Christ, he's lost track of how much you used him, the things you did to him, the noises you pulled from him, and all the times he came; one thing's for certain, though, he won't forget you marking his thighs up (thank fuck for pants because his thighs are a fuckin' roadmap thanks to you) turning him into a Simon Sundae because you "wanted something sweet to eat", and just... goddamn, leaving him a sweaty, sticky, speechless, and well and truly fucked out mess.
Simon couldn't even smoke, he was so fucked out, but damn if it didn't feel good. Grumpy bastard would be riding this high for a bit. Not even Johnny and the rest of those fuckin' knobheads on base could bring him down. For long.
Simon finds himself the little spoon to your big spoon afterward; you're thanking him, running your hands over his sensitive body, kissing his temple, and praising him for holding on like the good soldier and slag that he is. Simon's fallen so fuckin' deep he's on his knees for you.
"We should do this more often."
A beat. Then he groans.
"Oh, fuck me..."
Simon felt your smirk against his skin. You didn't need to be told twice.
#turning simon out series.#cutie 𝓠.#'cause it's my birthday!#nsfw.#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern whorefare.#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod x reader#cod x you#x black reader#x poc reader#x plus size reader#x gn!reader#task force 141
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getting toji’s name tattoed on u for his bday :3
a/n: do NOT GET ANYONES NAME TATTED ON U!!!! happy birthday toji!! this has been sitting in my drafts forever
"that doesn't look like a nail salon, doll."
toji's smart remark upon your entry of his car makes you glare at him. and to think you'd just done the most for this bastard, getting his name tattooed behind your left ear.
it sat in a pretty, cursive font, a delicate heart dotting the 'i' at the end of his name. your tattoo artist had taken their time on this one, and though they thought it was a bad idea...you did it anyway. and the results made you even happier.
you huff and turn slightly away from your husband, throwing your hair behind your shoulder so the brand-new ink was shown off. even through the shiny plastic wrap and tape, toji's eyes can spell out his name, signed right behind your ear. his name. on you. forever.
"holy shit," toji whispers, that stupid-handsome grin of his crawling onto his lips. his fingers come to poke at the tattoo before you have to swat his hand away.
"yeah, asshole," you spit, with a sly smile of your own while you look at toji.
he's never been good at communicating how he feels, but there's a certain sense of pride, and love that overcomes him when toji realizes that you're marked as his. and it goes no further than the simple fact of that. not like he owns you, but you're...just his. toji's wife.
toji leans in all too demandingly for a sloppy kiss, grabbing your entire jaw in his rough hand, and he can only think of more ways to make you his.
#BIRTHDAY SEX BIRTHDAY SEX#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#fushiguro toji#toji fluff
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#jujutsu icons#jujutsu kaisen 0#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsukaisen#gojo headcanons#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jjk satoru#jjkedit#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk gojo#jjk#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo sensei#jjk art#satoru gojo#anime#satoru#jjk smut#anime icons#happy birthday gojo#jjk x reader#jujutsu sorcerer#geto suguru#jjk geto#jujutsu geto
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At the Emperor’s Word -Viktor x Reader x Jayce
Summary: Sneaking around the academy after hours sounds like a good idea right up until you get caught; then, it becomes a great idea.
Pairing: Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce
Word Count: 6K
Warning: Explicit (PwP)
Tags: Threesome, Kissing, Handjob, Voyeurism, Obedience Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Cuckolding, Edging, Degradation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masturbation, Voice Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Lap Sex, Light Punishment Kink, Big Dick Viktor, Pet Names, Begging, Slight Choking, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Rough Sex
Notes: A little fashionably late, but here is my absolutely filthy piece in celebration of Viktor’s birthday 🎉!! Viktor, my dearest, thank you for being my beloved husband and the devoted father of our many children. Glorious ovulation everyone ✌️💕.
You try to stifle a chuckle.
“Jayce, we can't-”
He's warm, so warm. You always feel yourself melt under his touch.
“C'mon, just a minute…” he insists.
You can't help but giggle breathlessly as he brings your hand into his pants, a large hand wrapping your fingers around his already half-hard cock. His body presses yours against the workbench, the firm wood digging into your lower back. His other hand slides against the fabric of your skirt, cushioning the strain, and not so subtly placing his palm over your ass.
He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, letting out a pleased groan when your fist starts moving. You suppress another laugh, trying your best to remain quiet, but you're positively enamoured of those sounds he makes when you touch him. Without even seeing his face, you know the content smile hasn't left his lips; he's so easy to please.
He's twitching under your grip, gripping your cheeks to the rhythm of the strokes. You quicken the pace, and he lets out a low moan that echoes through the empty lab.
This wing of the academy is always empty at this time of night, but there's something exciting about having to stay quiet. You can feel how close he's getting, the slight rutting of his hips a now familiar sign. His breath hitches, he's almost there, just a little more-
“I hope I am not interrupting anything.”
You yelp in surprise, pulling out your hand from Jayce's pants so fast your arm hits the wooden desk behind you. Jayce lets out a confused, frustrated shout at the sudden loss of friction as you wince in pain.
There, at the entrance of the lab, stands a looming figure, holding one of the large doors partially open. The light from the corridor obscures his face from the darkness of the lab; but there is no mistaking who this silhouette belongs to.
Viktor makes a single step forward, the metallic sound of his crutch against the tiled floor making you wince, as he lets the door close behind him. The room falls into obscurity again, the pale glow of the moon and the distant city lights only faintly shining through the windows.
“Ah, Viktor!” Jayce almost bellows in an overly cheery tone, walking backwards to put some distance between the two of you. “I- We were waiting for you! Got a bunch of interesting notes about today's experiments to show you !”
Viktor's face is blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in cold annoyance. He is neither amused nor does he seem the believe Jayce's jovial act. He nods curtly at the other man's pants, which are obviously, painfully unbuttoned. Jayce cringes as he quickly stumbles to reattach them, sliding the buttons in the wrong slits. You're frozen in place, eyes wide in fear, incapable of looking away from Viktor's frigid expression. But his focus is not on you; it's on Jayce.
“So,” he starts loudly, not bothering with whispers, “You barely spend any time working in the lab anymore. You have not even checked any of the upgrades I have suggested for the hexgates in the last month.” His voice is apathetic and dry, and his eyes narrow when he says the next words:
“And this is what you've been up to?”
Jayce opens his mouth like he's ready to argue, but the glare from his work partner seems to change his mind. He lowers his head silently, like a puppy being scolded. Viktor's golden pupils slide to you, and you now understand exactly why Jayce prefers looking at the floor.
“From Jayce I could expect,” Viktor remarks, the weight of his stare making you shrink, “but from you? I'll admit I'm disappointed.”
You bow your head in embarrassment. Your cheeks are burning, and you know there's no way to pretend like this is only a misunderstanding. You wish you could vanish on the spot.
Jayce, always the hero, comes to your defence quickly: “Viktor, it wasn't her idea-”
“I'm so sorry sir,” you interrupt him, stepping forward. You know Viktor well enough to recognize he's not a fan of poor excuses or avoiding accountability. “I swear this internship means the world to me. I know how many other students dream of working on hextech. It won't ever happen again.”
He seems pleased by your answer, although his expression stays perfectly stoic.
“That's good to hear,” he hums, walking closer to the both of you. He stops a few feet away, a ray of moonlight passing through a coloured beaker catching in his auburn hair. It illuminates him in an eerie, reddish glow, like he's not quite human, almost a phantom. “Well then, do not let me stop the both of you. Keep going, as you were.”
You have to assume he's joking, even if his tone sounds anything but, and you let out a confused, nervous giggle. But he isn't laughing, and neither is Jayce.
“Viktor…” there's uncertainty in the taller man's voice. It's not fear, or alarm, but he's apprehensive about something.
Viktor lets out a small sigh of lassitude, discontent evident. He looks at you again, with these amber eyes that make you feel like the world around you vanishes. Like there's nothing but him, and the words about to leave his lips.
“It would appear my partner is suddenly hard of hearing. Were my instructions unclear to you as well?”
You swallow. Your lips feel dry. Jayce is still unmoving next to you, still as a board, watching your interaction with his lab partner with an uneasy look.
“…No sir,” you mutter, just loudly enough for both men to hear. Viktor gives you the shadow of a smile.
“C'mon Viktor, you've humiliated her enough,” Jayce argues softly, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. But the other man has clearly decided Jayce hasn't gained his favour for the night, barely sparing him an icy glare.
“I do not believe I was talking to you,” he states matter-of-factly. The man of progress makes a strangled sound of protest, clearly insulted, but Viktor seems to have all but forgotten about him, now. It's back to only you and him, and the teasing smile dancing on his lips.
“He's always like this. Begging for attention,” Viktor tells you in a tone of confidence, like the topic of the conversation isn't standing less than a foot away from you with a baffled look on his face. “One has to wonder if he is compensating for something, but I figure you are in a good position to tell, right?”
You can’t prevent the corners of your mouth from lifting at the underhanded jab; Viktor seems emboldened by your reaction, voice louder when he continues:
“I certainly hope he's been more of a gentleman to you than this. Or does he only bend you over in our lab like an animal?”
The comment is enough to pull Jayce out of his stupor, and he raises his arms in protest.
“Hey, I'm not that-” he starts heatedly.
“Jayce.”
It's just his name; nothing else. You've said it to him hundreds of times. But there's something different in the way Viktor says it, the slow pronunciation of the syllables, the hardness of the accent, the deepness of the voice. Whatever it is, Jayce is compelled by it just as much as an order. He stops right in his tracks, his arms falling uselessly back to his side, like a dog listening to a command.
Viktor hums in approval, but his stare is no less punishing.
“I was not talking to you. When it is your turn to speak, you will know.”
Jayce's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes wide, an expression you can't quite read on his face; but he obeys. He stands there like a puppet, unmoving, drinking Viktor's words. You can't help but notice the still present strain in his badly buttoned pants.
The thinner man's gaze softens once more as it falls on you. He makes another step forward; close enough that you could reach him with your hand if you tried. He looks at you encouragingly: “Answer the question, sweet thing.”
The room feels like it's shrunk to barely a tenth of its size. Your breath has become shallow without you noticing. But isn't quite from fear anymore.
“T-twice in the lab before,” you stutter, the embarrassment of recounting your adventures to your direct supervisor burning your cheeks. The arousal in the air is undeniable now, and he's visibly aware of it. “And in the library. Once in my bedroom.”
Viktor hums pensively, studying your answer. It almost feels like you're passing some kind of final exam; the world's most sexually charged exam, undoubtedly.
“So he is aware of the basic notion of privacy behind closed doors, then,” Viktor concludes, the thin smirk now fully on display. “Who would have thought.”
He doesn't look away from your eyes when he finally speaks to the other man again.
“Jayce. How close are you?”
You glance at the taller engineer; he's started palming himself through his pants, his breathing irregular. His hair is dishevelled from your previous activities, and his cheeks are a bright crimson against his caramel skin. He's usually so dominating, on top of things, handling you like a chiffon doll up and down his dick with that cocky smile of his. You've never seen him like this; flustered, desperate, seeming so small despite all of his stature.
“Pretty close,” Jayce almost moans out, voice raspy for exertion. He's biting his own bottom lip so tightly it might start bleeding. “Just a little more.”
Viktor finally gives him a slight smile, though it's dripping with self-satisfaction. He's close enough to you that you can smell him now, that you could brush away the wayward strands of hair on his forehead. His face has been marked by the passage of time and countless hours of work, heavy bags under his eyes, cheeks almost gaudy. And yet, there is no sign of him ever losing control of this moment. Nothing could change the hypnotic power of his eyes, the controlling tone of his voice, or the subjugating effect of his slightly crooked smile.
“I suppose we should oblige,” he suggests lightly, his free hand brushing your cheek. His fingers are thin and lithe, cold against your skin, and you lean into the touch. He gives you a moment to pull away, if you want to; but you don't.
The kiss is slow at first, gentle, just the way little girls dream their prince charming might one day give them. He lets you decide when to pick up the speed, and you initiate after a few seconds by slipping your tongue in his mouth. It's messier, now, teeth clashing every now and then, saliva pooling where your lips meet. He tastes nothing like Jayce, his flavour of dark coffee and fresh mint; Viktor is sweet, like milk and honey, like a slice of lemon cake in the summer heat.
When he pulls away for air, you feel like time has started to move once again, as if you've just emerged from a dream. He's smirking confidently, still, but not entirely unfazed; his pale cheeks have turned pink, his breathing is slightly laboured, and there are traces of smudged saliva on the corners of his mouth.
A foreign whine makes you both turn towards Jayce, who is clearly on the edge of orgasm. He's abandoned any pretence of innocence, his cock fully pulled out of his pants as he rubs it furiously, eyes locked on the two of you.
“Stop,” Viktor only says.
Jayce groans in frantic frustration, slowing his rhythm but incapable of removing his hand. He's harder than you've ever seen him, his tip almost a painful red.
“No, no, c'mon V, don't do this. Please keep going,” he begs, looking at you with pitiful eyes, pleading silently. You want to touch him, to let him touch himself. But you know it's not your decision; it's Viktor's. And he's made his ruling, so you're not about to get on your research director's bad side again.
The head engineer offers a proud smile at your lack of answer to Jayce, the kind he usually reserves for reports submitted in advance or ingenious schematics. You recognize him more like this, strict, but never unappreciative of your efforts. He never forgets to slip a word of encouragement when you're stuck, never hesitates to reread your notes with you when the math isn't quite adding up. The cold anger seems to have fully passed, and now only the teasing, taunting satisfaction remains.
“I believe you may have forgotten that as per her contract, she is my assistant. Meaning she is under my direct command.”
He's looking at Jayce now, whose hand is still wrapped around his length, but unmoving. His cock is twitching in his grasp, desperate as the rest of him. His whole body shifts to the rhythm of his respiration, large shoulders slumped in defeat. Viktor doesn't turn to you when he asks you the following question, choosing instead to stare deeply into Jayce's citrine eyes.
“Is that not correct?”
You don't hesitate with your answer this time.
“Yes sir.”
His focus is still on the other man, but he strokes your cheek again with his left hand. He rests his weight comfortably on his crutch, like he doesn't have a single worry in the world in this moment.
“Good girl.”
You feel yourself tighten at that. That voice could tell you to find a way to harness the power of the goddamn stars before figuring out the hexcore, and you would comply.
“Jayce, could you bring the chair over here? The larger one.”
Viktor points with his chin towards a wooden chair with a flat backing, in a corner of the lab. Jayce looks back and forth between the chair and his partner, like he's unsure if he's joking or testing him. When no additional directions come from Viktor, he sighs in discomfort, clearly disgruntled, unceremoniously shoving himself back in his pants to go fetch the chair. The thinner man hums in appreciation when he brings it back and places it next to him.
“Thank you, Jayce.”
He sits, using his crutch for balance as he shifts slightly to find a comfortable position. His hand leaves the burgundy handgrip, instead settling on the metallic upper section. He looks like the king of a forgotten kingdom, resting on his wooden throne, sceptre in hand. You and Jayce, his obedient consorts, can't do anything but await his next command.
It comes in the form of a simple motion of his hand, beckoning you closer. You only stop when your legs bump against his, standing above him. His fingers caress the fabric of your skirt studyingly, like he's committing the feel to memory. They eventually catch on the waistband, tugging it questioningly. His golden eyes look up at you, the colour of the sunrise etched in his pupils. You nod earnestly in approval, and he lowers the skirt down until it reaches your knees, letting it fall to the floor. You're suddenly very thankful you dressed up this morning knowing you would see Jayce.
The design is simple, a line of flowery lace hugging your hips, and curving to the shape of your ass. It's the kind of thing Jayce loves; he'll even make you keep your panties on sometimes as he fucks you, just pushing the bottom of the fabric to the side to fit himself inside you. It's the lace he can’t resist, you think, the way it barely covers anything and rests against your skin like a present for him to unwrap.
It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor, but you can tell he’s still appreciative, cold hand sneaking under the lace to squeeze a cheek firmly.
“This is fucking torture,” Jayce groans in complaint, standing still just barely a few feet away. He's obviously aware he's not supposed to interfere with the two of you, or to touch himself for relief, but the glistening sweat on his forehead and down the prominent vein on his neck indicates how difficult this is for him.
“And you should know better than to have sex next to a table covered in explosive materials and one-of-a-kind prototypes,” Viktor retorts, sparing him a slightly displeased glance. “What if you had broken something irreplaceable?”
Jayce seems genuinely embarrassed by that; he may not show it as often these days with how busy he is, but you know he still cares about the academy's research and the state of hextech.
“I'm sorry Viktor. I wasn't thinking…”
“I am aware you were not thinking. And that is exactly the issue. You forget how much of our profession relies on thinking, not talking.”
It's crystal clear that's going to be the end of the conversation, for now. Viktor's fingers slide to your hip, following the shape of the panties until your inner thigh. A small tap with a single digit tells him everything he needs to know.
“Look at this,” he smiles, taunting but affectionate, “Already so wet just from a kiss. Or was it the sound of my voice that did it, I wonder.”
Both, it's both, and every single thing that has happened in this lab since he entered it. You tremble when his finger moves slowly against the damp fabric, not quite oversensitive, but a little on edge.
“I, um-” Jayce hesitantly speaks up from the side. “I fingered her a bit earlier. I… think she should be alright?”
This time, Viktor doesn't reprimand him for talking; he seems surprisingly pleased, eyes boring into yours for confirmation.
“Is that so?” he exhales softly.
You nod breathlessly. Why is it always so difficult to talk when he's studying you like this?
The teasing finger slips under the fabric, gently making its way into you. You let out an involuntary sound of eagerness as he verifies if you've been loosened up, analyzing you with the precision of a machine. He removes the digit with a crooked grin when he judges you've passed, and you whine at the loss; it was barely anything in the first place, but it soothed the feeling of total emptiness in your core.
“Color me impressed,” Viktor declares, half genuine, half mocking. “I do not think I have ever seen Jayce do his work in advance.”
Said man groans in defeated complaint:
“You're turning her against me.”
Viktor lets out a wry snort:
“You do that well enough on your own. You touched her without even making her cum?”
He pats your pussy comfortingly, and you almost sing to the feeling. Your panties get lowered swiftly, and you discard them with little decorum. Viktor's assertive expression has softened enough that you feel emboldened enough to try to join in the banter:
“Jayce thinks foreplay is watching him get undressed. He's not exactly an expert.”
Viktor laughs at that, a charming and genuine sound, and you feel yourself glow with pride. The topic of mockery doesn't seem as pleased, his cheeks red, his lips thin:
“See? Told you. You've already worked your fucking magic on her.”
Viktor starts unbuttoning his pants, the teasing smile still etched on his angular features. His fingers work nimbly, swiftly, with the precision only the best engineer in Runeterra could muster in such circumstances.
“It is not magic, Jayce. Simply talent and practice.”
He does quick work of lowering his pants, just enough to expose his underwear. The confirmation that he is indeed not as unbothered as he still may seem is poking through the fabric. Judging by the defined outline and the sizeable tent, you can instantly confirm a hypothesis you've had since the start of your internship: the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy is packing.
He's not unaware of it either; his golden eyes follow the movement of your own, playfully examining your reaction. It's different from Jayce's endearing ego and constant need for praise; Viktor knows his worth, but he revels in the admiration, the stares filled with awe and devotion.
If Jayce needs to feel worthy, then Viktor needs to feel wanted.
He finally frees his cock from the restrive fabric, letting the member bob slightly. He's not even fully hard, and he's huge, the length imposing, the bulbous tip a pleasant shade of pink. The skin is as pale as the rest of him, blueish veins marking it like porcelain; only a few well-trimmed auburn curls at the base remind you he's not sculpted from actual marble.
Jayce lets out a low, tentatively playful whistle as the other man’s slender fingers wrap around the shaft.
“Flattery will not get you far, Jayce,” Viktor comments absentmindedly. “You and I both know this is nothing you have not seen before.”
He moves his hand in an open, loose fist, evidently without any real intent to finish himself off; not with the way he's made you stand right above him, not with how he's looking right at you. You swallow with difficulty, licking your lips for moisture. The energy between the two of you is tangible, electric, as he keeps working himself tantalizingly slow.
“Darling. Sweet thing. Do you want this?”
You nod vigorously, the words stuck in your throat again.
“Tell me, then. Please. Tell me how much you want this,” he requests, and it's hard to tell whether that's an order or a plea with the way his voice lowers, just barely louder than a whisper.
You feel like you're high, your mind a jumbled mess of adrenaline and lust. There are no sentences that could possibly express how he's got you under his spell. How many times have you imagined a scene like this, in only a year of being his assistant? The stolen glances, the passing touches, you had no reason to believe they were anything more than figments of your lustful imagination. The very idea that he could be the one doubting your interest in him is laughable, and yet his gaze is probing you for a response, his lips parted with bated breath.
“I want this. I want you,” you swear to him, staring back so deeply into the amber irises there could not be a single question left. “Please, sir.”
You bring a hand to the crook of his neck; the coolness of the skin under your palm, the sharpness of his collarbone against your fingertips, the beating of his heart below your thumb. He has to know this is real.
Viktor smiles slightly, the little mole above his lips shifting alongside his dimples.
“I would ask you to be weary of my right leg, then. It is not quite as strong as it used to be, although that is not saying much.”
You've never seen the emotion that crosses Viktor's face in that moment, gone in under a second. It's so subtle one might have missed it; bitterness, regret, defeat. The tragedy of a man brilliant enough to change the whole world, but who wouldn't live long enough to see it. If Janna truly watches over the lost children of Zaun, then she is turning a blind eye to the brightest of them all.
You could say something, try and comfort him, but you choose not to. There's nothing that can be said to change things; there’s only the present, and there are only actions.
You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning in unison. You can't help the array of whines escaping your pinched lips. The heat from where your bodies meet is overwhelming, the stretch delightful and filling. He's not fully inside you and you're already wondering how much more you can take. It's dizzying, the pain making you grit your teeth, but you persist, fingers clenching on the back of the chair. When you've fully bottomed out, you let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Viktor soothingly pats your back, and you hang on to him for dear life, wrapping both arms around his back.
“Are you alright?” he whispers softly, worry evident in his voice. You want to answer, but you're quite certain if you open your mouth you'll only get confused gibberish out, because fuck, he's filling you so much it's hard to even think. You shift your grip to his shoulder blades, trying to anchor yourself, absentmindedly noticing the cool feeling of metal under his uniform. You trace the intricate patterns with your fingers to ground yourself, recognizing the shapes of bolts and screws, as you feel your breathing slowly even out
“I’m ok,” you eventually manage to exhale. “I just- need a second“
Viktor makes an understanding hum, his hand caressing the valley of your back like you're doing with his, his strokes mellow. He moves his head slightly to look at Jayce behind you, throwing him an irritated glare.
“So much for your preparations,” he points out with irony.
Without needing to see him, you know exactly the kind of disgruntled face Jayce is making: “She only needs three to fit me, you're just stupid big.”
“I can move,” you interrupt them, the pain now only a vague tingle; all that remains is the yearning for him.
You place both hands on the back of the chair to balance your weight, being careful of Viktor's weaker leg. You bring yourself up slowly, tantalizingly, before letting yourself fall back on his length. There's no other way to describe the broken moan you release than dirty.
“Eh,” Viktor remarks slyly, groaning when you start moving again. “S-she does not seem to think it’s stupid.”
You fuck yourself on him with abandon, fast, rough, not caring of how debauched you may look. If anything, Jayce seems very appreciative if his moans and curses are any indication.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants somewhere behind you, too far to feel his warmth, but close enough to hear he's pumping himself to the same rhythm you're riding Viktor. “You're doing such a good job taking him, princess…”
He's truly begging when he calls the other man's name again, delirious from the unending edging:
“V, please, make her turn to my side, I have to see her face.”
Viktor's hooded eyes bare into yours, his raspy pants echoing through your head as you thrust up and down his length.
“Do you think he is truly sorry, now?” he asks, the ever-teasing glimmer in his pupils shining despite the clear physical effort from his body.
You can't even remember what Jayce has to be sorry for; you whimper a positive ‘huh-uh’. Viktor nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck for a moment, gently bitting the sweaty skin in a surprising hint of possessiveness, but he does finally agree to free Jayce of his torture.
“I will trust your good judgment. You can come here, Jayce.”
You yelp in surprise when two strong but familiar hands suddenly grab you at the waist and turn you around, almost pulling you off Viktor's cock and into a messy kiss. The slight tickle of Jayce's stubble is pleasantly itchy, his tongue desperately searching for more of your taste. You moan wantonly against his mouth when you feel Viktor twitch inside you, but the man under you doesn't seem fully pleased: a thinner but firm hand brings you back against his chest, and he throws Jayce an irritated glare.
“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Typical,” the older man accuses him with a bitter tone, his accent more pronounced, rigid. “You do not get to touch, and you are only allowed to cum on her.”
His lips come to your ear in the ghost of a kiss, velvety smooth:
“Would that be agreeable to you, sweet thing?”
You just know you want to keep going, really; so you do exactly that as a reply.
This position is harder for movement, since without the support of the chair’s back, you would have to rely on putting pressure on Viktor's knees. Thankfully, with Jayce’s proximity, you can use his muscled chest for balance. He certainly doesn't mind being used like this if the expression he’s wearing is any sign: his entire face is crimson, his eyes heavy, laboured breaths escaping his abused lips. He's still following your pace, pumping up and down every time your ass meets Viktor's hip bones. It has to be painful by now, with the way he's been rubbing himself raw for so long without release, but he's either too entranced to care or getting off the burning friction
“So obedient,” Viktor praises you, his free hand moving to your lower stomach, long fingers digging gently into your skin; you wonder if he’s trying to feel himself move inside you. “We might still be able to make a top student out of you. What do you think, Jayce?”
Much like yourself, Jayce seems beyond the capacity for words. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you, like he wants to take you off Viktor's lap and fuck you right on the floor. But you both know he wouldn't do that without Viktor's approval, at the risk of getting on the other man’s bad side again.
Viktor's cock hits a peculiarly sensitive spot inside you and you cry out from the sudden shock, loling out your tongue involuntarily. Jayc makes a strangled sound at the sight, and it visibly takes all his self-control to not shove himself into the warmth of your throat.
“For once, I cannot get you to talk when I actually want you to,” Viktor tsks in disapproval, but it's clear he's not frustrated; rather, he seems to enjoy the trance-like silence Jayce has been reduced to.
“F-fuck, I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen,” the younger man sputters, delirious, his fist moving with a frenzied pace. “I can see your cock in and out of her every time she bounces like that. Her tits look so good…”
You recognize that slight pitch in his voice, the rumbling in his throat; he's close again.
“What else?” Viktor hums, not letting him have a moment of respite. You can hear ragged gasps next to your ear, parts of heaved curses indicating he too is nearing his end, but he's still firmly insistent on being the one in control of it all.
Jayce whines in struggle, but it's hard to hear with how loud the sound of your own moans echo in the room. You've been using Viktor's cock to hit that one spot over and over, chasing your high without restraint, the familiar clenching of your walls maddening.
“She looks all fucked out. Like she -fuck- like she's so close to cumming around you…”
The other man seems pleased by that if the way you feel him twitch inside you is evidence. “Good observations,” he replies in playful irony. “Perhaps there is still a scientist in there.”
The hand on your stomach leaves its comfortable position to wrap around your neck, the pressure light, just barely restricting airflow.
“Sweet thing,” he calls out to you once more. “You can pick up the pace a little. I want you to never look away from Mr Talis's eyes.”
It's a hard request to fulfill considering how badly you want to squint your eyes shut in the agonizing pleasure; but you try your very best, unshed tears of exhaustion starting to pool and blurying your vision.
The sight of you so desperately trying to obey Viktor's order to focus on nothing but him is what finally undoes Jayce, who lets out one final loud curse:
“Shit-!”
He cums all over your academy blouse with a shout, little droplets reaching as high as your chin. It barely takes three more thrusts against Viktor for you to join him, crying tears of relief as an intense wave of bliss rocks your entire body. With your limbs reduced to nothing but putty, your head falls forward in exhaustion, thankfully stopped by Jayce's strong torso; the fabric of his dress shirt feels like satin against your face, burying your sobs.
Viktor takes a moment longer to reach his peak, fucking into your exhausted body with concentration, thick eyebrows furrowed. It's too much, too rough, and you throw your head back to whine against his neck pitifully. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he finally unloads into you with a long groan.
“Shh, good girl,” he compliments you soothingly as his warmth settles into your core, kissing your neck leisurely in praise. “You have done so well.”
He bends your head back slightly more to catch your mouth in an open-mouth kiss, slow and tired, sloppy from your mutual exhaustion. Jayce groans, his hand somehow still on his softened cock, pumping it lazily; his stamina is utterly unbelievable.
“Okay, actually, this might be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he comments hoarsely, absorbing the way your tongue dances with Viktor's with every inch of his capacities.
Viktor concludes the wet kiss with a small peck on your lips, smiling as your head falls back on his shoulder in fatigue, your eyes shut close.
“Because you managed to get yourself all over her?” he throws back at Jayce, as calm and confident as if he hadn't just made you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. “Your ego will never cease to impress me.”
The stars behind your eyelids are still spinning; you weakly try to move an arm, finding it almost completely unresponsive.
“Sir?” you ask, and you almost don't recognize your voice with how rough and broken it resonates in the empty lab.
“I think we have reached the point where you are allowed to call me by my name in private,” Viktor amusedly hums close to you.
“Viktor, I…”
You want to open your eyes, to look into his golden eyes again and see the way he looks right after sex, but they're sealed shut from how worn out you are. “…I don't think I can move right away.”
That earns you a content chuckle from one man and a disbelieving laugh from the other.
“Jayce,” Viktor asks, now with a tone of request rather than command, “be a gentleman for once and carry her to her bedroom. The poor thing is exhausted.”
Jayce snorts, for once tonight the one hitting back with irony:
“And whose fault is that?”
Viktor’s fingers, still loosely wrapped around your throat as lightly as feathers, slide down to massage the tender muscles at the base of your nape. You moan brokenly into the touch. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.
“Undeniably yours. I am not the one sneaking around in the academy for nefarious purposes,” Viktor retorts playfully, tiredness noticeable but skillfully hidden in his voice. “But if you were to have a bad idea like this once more… I believe I can offer you my services as her supervisor. For both your sakes.”
#CAN I GET A YEEHAW#this was so much fun to write ashgfff#arcane#viktor arcane#jayce talis#viktor x reader#viktor x reader x jayce#jayce x reader#arcane smut#viktor smut#jayce smut#jayce x viktor#happy birthday viktor
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we can go anywhere
#orv#omniscient reader's viewpoint#orv fanart#yoo joonghyuk#kim dokja#joongdok#중독#my art#new work I drew for the JD event in Seoul on YJH's birthday haha there's another one but I lost the file I'll upload it if I find...#(; 0 ;)/
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happy birthday to my Kiyoomi man (and my momma LMAOO-)
—-
When the side of the bed next to him is cold, Kiyoomi is immediately suspicious.
You’re never up and out long enough for your side of the bed to become cold, you hate the feeling of having to rewarm it under your body (though you assure him you don’t mind too much, as you warm up in his arms).
Regardless, he wakes up with a cocked brow and a small, sleepy scowl.
He makes his way out of the room, adorned only in his boxers, knuckling his eyes and smacking his lips as he searches for you.
He checks the bathroom, only to find the door wide open and dark. Then, he checks the kitchen, seeing it in a similar state, he feels a small sense of panic creep through his body.
Only to disappear when he enters the living room and finds you, sleeping. There’s countless black and gold balloons surrounding you, your body curled in on itself for warmth and a cup of cold tea resting next to you. He smiles and looks at the clock. 4 am. You must’ve been out here for hours, blowing up balloons by mouth alone.
“Hey,” he whispers, creeping towards you. He gently lays a hand on your shoulder and shakes you awake, “whatcha doin?”
“Balloons,” you barely manage, voice drunk with sleep and heavy with exhaustion. Your throat sounds raw, probably from so much energy going into the balloon blowing. He chuckles and looks around the room for more details.
There’s a small sign with “happy birthday” in black and gold still wrapped in plastic, black party hats and plates on the side table- you probably were planning on having the boys over for breakfast this morning.
“C’mon, baby,” he says softly, poking you with his toe. “Let’s go back to bed. You need it.”
“C’me.”
“Huh?”
“Carry me,” you whine.
He rolls his eyes with a smile before bending down and scooping you up in his arms, adjusting you comfortably before making his way back to the bedroom with you cradled in his arms.
“D’t tell ‘omi,” you slur, and he snickers softly.
“Won’t say a word.”
#it’s my second favorite man’s birthday 🥺🫶🏻#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader fluff#sakusa kiyoomi imagine#sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu#sakusa#sakusa fluff#sakusa x reader#sakusa x reader fluff#sakusa x gn!reader#sakusa imagine#sakusa haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader
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say you can't sleep, baby, I know
NSFW!Trey x Reader
Synopsis
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”
[wc} - 5,258
[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat
[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!
Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)
Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.
Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:
“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”
Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think.
He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose.
That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible.
Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.
“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”
“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”
Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.
“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”
“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”
Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge.
“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”
Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.
“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap.
Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger.
“No need to be a brat.”
Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.
“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim.
“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”
Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen.
Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day.
Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on.
That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.
It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up.
They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room.
Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine.
Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders.
“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.
He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair.
“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”
He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him.
“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”
You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.
“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”
Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.
To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.
He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.
“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him.
The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.
It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen.
cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!
Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.
luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘
Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together.
He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays.
Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again.
cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉
Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him.
Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.
As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed.
He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.
“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers.
He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.
“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”
Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.
Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern.
“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”
Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present.
“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”
Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice.
You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings.
Holy shit you were wearing stockings.
“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”
You're trying to rile him up, right?
“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”
He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.
“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”
Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt.
“Happy Birthday Trey~”
It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.
He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake.
But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.
How could he be expected to sleep now?
Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.
Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up.
A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile.
“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”
You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace.
“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”
He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex.
“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”
Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?” “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”
The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages.
“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof.
He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole.
“Trey! Oooh, Trey~”
Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick.
“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.
“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”
Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.
“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths.
“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”
So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin.
“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes.
“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”
Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking.
“Haaah—”
Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth.
“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock.
“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”
A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off.
“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft.
“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”
Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”
A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly.
“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”
Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver.
“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”
A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure.
“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”
Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip.
He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it.
Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.
“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.”
Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”
In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole.
“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him.
Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.
Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.
His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock.
Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him.
“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”
“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all.
Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy.
Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him.
Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion.
Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him.
The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”
Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees.
From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play.
Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.
“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips.
“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”
Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries.
Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear.
Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?
Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.
“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”
Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined.
“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”
Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak.
Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time.
Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.
Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms.
Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.
Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy.
“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”
You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss.
“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”
Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did.
“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”
You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.
As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes.
“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on.
“I’m here, I’m here.”
Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest.
Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy.
“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”
A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back.
“I love you too…”
*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*
An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm.
“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses.
“Glasses…glasses…ah..”
Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.
“Mmm, honey?”
Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes.
“Early…”
You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well.
“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”
“…Ugh, I do?”
Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get.
“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.
“Ugggh, yeah…”
Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you.
Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered.
He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.
“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”
Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.
Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses,
Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine.
“Ah! Trey, what is it?”
cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!
“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”
You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”
Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you.
“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”
He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world.
At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you.
comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷
#mochi fic#twst#twisted wonderland#trey clover#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#trey clover x reader#twst trey#twisted wonderland smut#twst smut#trey clover smut#happy birthday trey#anyways thats my husband and i probably wont get this out of my system for a while
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includes: f! reader, aged up! boys, reverse cowgirl (yuuji), cunnilingus (megumi), nipple sucking (toge), porn without plot, probably ooc
ass, tits, or thighs?
ASS — yuuji itadori
you're not surprised by this, everyone knows yuuji loves a good ass. he doesn't care how big it is, it's his favorite thing ever. he's grabbing your butt in almost every hug, smacking it whenever he walks past, using it as a pillow whenever you're laying on your tummy. wear some flare jeans: he's hard. wear a skirt: he’s hard. wear those booty shorts: he’s hard. wear a thong bikini: he’s hard. wear sweats that are way too flattering for what are essentially pajamas: he's hard. he’s reeling in excitement the second you're bent over. if you go to the gym together, he's on the verge of drooling when you're doing squats. he feels like a pervert, but he knows you enjoy it. he’s pulling you onto his lap every chance he's got, taking his lip between his teeth nervously when you wiggle atop his growing boner. reverse cowgirl is this man's shit. his hands on your hips bouncing you up and down effortlessly on his cock and he's just moaning and whining behind you. “so pretty, sweetheart. i love your ass,” he mumbles breathlessly before moving a hand to smack it as he rams up into you.
TITS — toge inumaki
toge has to force himself to not ogle at your boobs. he tries hard (ha! get it?) to not show the way even a sliver of your chest in a low cut shirt has his head spinning. he doesn't even care about the size, he just adores boobies. he's constantly trying to convince you that you shouldn't wear a bra—”it’ll be comfy,” he signs—but he really just wants to see your nipples through your shirt. if you oblige, he's sliding his hand under your tee immediately. poor guy can't decide what he likes more; you on his lap or sitting in yours. on one hand, when you're on top of him, he can watch your tits bounce as you lazily grind against his straining cock in his pants. and, when you're bouncing on said cock, he can let his eyes roll back with your boobs in his face. he could die like that. however, he loves sitting on your lap, legs on either side of your hips, hands digging into your waist. he keeps his purple eyes on your face while he takes one of your nipples between his lips. he alternates every few moments, leaving both your nipples purpled and sensitive. he stays like that for hours, he could probably cum just from sucking on your boobs if he wanted to. again, he could die like that. eventually, he decides he doesn't need a favorite. he just loves your boobs. he really loves your boobs. “show me your tits,” he's whispering in your ear the instant you're alone together, cursed words ringing through your head. you literally can't say no to that.
THIGHS — megumi fushiguro
oh, good lord. megumi is a mess in seconds when you're wearing shorts, or a skirt, or whatever shows off your legs. he’s chewing the inside of his cheek until you're alone together. then, he's on his knees nipping your thighs. he's literally obsessed with your legs to the point that he starts to enjoy summer a bit more, all because can see you. how sweet! a large hand is always on one of your thighs, grasp just firm enough where you're acutely aware of him. he love love loves when he carries your sleepy body with your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands caressing the bottom of your thighs. he also love love loves laying face down in your lap and peppering kisses on your legs while your hands are in his locks. but, he can be so mean sometimes. he’ll throw your legs over his shoulders and ignore your dripping cunt for hours to instead suck and bite marks into your thighs. you won't be wearing shorts for a while after this, not with all those deep purple hickeys. you keep whining and tugging him by the hair towards where you need him, but he just tuts a little and goes back to your legs. after way too much teasing, he finally listens. “okay, okay, ‘m sorry,” he grumbles before swiping his hot tongue over your clit. however, he keeps forcing you to squeeze his head with your thighs. compromise!
#its my birthday tomorrow this is my present to myself#jjk#jujustu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#megumi#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro#jjk smut#jjk x reader#x reader#megumi x reader#inumaki toge#toge inumaki#toge inumaki smut#jjk inumaki#inumaki x reader#jjk drabble#jjk blurb#itadori yuuji#yuuji itadori#jjk yuuji#itadori smut#megumi smut#itadori x reader
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birthdays - cl16
summary: charles and yn's love story spans over two decades, beginning when they meet at charles' 6th birthday party, where she promised to be there for all of his birthdays. wc: 4.6k
folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAIN BOY 🥹🥹 a few years ago i wrote a fic like this for harry and it’s one of my favorite things i’ve posted so i felt like doing a charles version! i hope you like this as much as i do <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
6th birthday
The sun shone brightly over Monaco as YN and her mother walked down the tree-lined street. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the salty breeze from the nearby Mediterranean. The little girl clutched her mother's hand tightly, her eyes wide as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings of their new neighborhood.
"Are you excited for the party, sweetheart?" her mother asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
She nodded hesitantly. "But what if the other kids don't like me?"
"Don't worry, darling. I'm sure you'll make friends in no time," her mother assured her as they approached a beautiful villa with colorful balloons tied to the gate.
As they entered the backyard, they were greeted by the sight of children running around, laughter filling the air. A large bounce house dominated one corner, while a face-painting station was set up near the house. Tables adorned with race car-themed decorations were scattered around, laden with snacks and party favors.
A warm voice caught their attention. "Welcome! You must be our new neighbors."
YN looked up to see a kind-faced woman approaching them, a welcoming smile on her face.
"I'm Pascale Leclerc," she introduced herself, shaking her mother's hand. "And this must be YN! We're so glad you could make it."
She shyly hid behind her mother's leg, peeking out at Pascale.
"Charles!" Pascale called out. "Come here, darling. There's someone I'd like you to meet."
A small boy with tousled brown hair and bright blue eyes came running over, his cheeks flushed from playing.
"Charles, this is YN. She's new to the neighborhood," Pascale explained. "Why don't you introduce her to your friends?"
Charles grinned widely, revealing a missing front tooth. "Hi! Do you want to play with us? We're having a treasure hunt!"
She looked up at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, she stepped out from behind her mother's leg.
"Okay," she said softly, "And happy birthday."
Charles's grin grew even wider. He reached out and took her hand. "Come on! I'll show you where we've found clues already!"
For the rest of the afternoon, YN found herself caught up in the excitement of the party. She and Charles searched for treasure and bounced in the bounce house. By the time the cake was brought out the little girl was laughing and chatting with her new friends as if she'd known them for years.
As the party began to wind down and parents started arriving to pick up their children, Charles approached YN, a serious look on his young face.
"YN," he said, "will you come to my other birthdays too?"
"Yes!" she nodded enthusiastically. "We should be friends!"
Charles's face lit up. "Best friends!" he declared, holding out his pinky.
The girl linked her pinky with his, sealing their newfound friendship. As she left the party, clutching a goody bag and wearing a bright smile, she knew she had found something special in her new home.
12th birthday
The wheels of their bicycles whirred as YN and Charles raced down the winding streets of Monaco. The sun beat down on them, but the breeze created by their speed kept them cool. YN's laughter echoed off the buildings as she pedaled harder, trying to keep up with Charles.
"Come on!” Charles called over his shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face. "We're going to be late for my own party!"
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "It's your fault for insisting on this bike race, birthday boy!"
They skidded to a stop in front of Charles's house, both breathing heavily but grinning from ear to ear. The front yard was already bustling with activity - balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the chatter of arriving guests filled the air.
As they walked their bikes to the garage, YN nudged Charles with her elbow. "I can't believe you're twelve already. You're practically ancient."
Charles laughed, running a hand through his windswept hair. "Says the girl who's been twelve for a whole two months. Come on, I smell cake!"
The party was in full swing, with kids from their school playing games and enjoying the sunny day. Charles's parents had outdone themselves this year, setting up a mini go-kart track in the backyard. The birthday boy, of course, was the undisputed champion, zipping around the track with a skill that left his friends in awe.
As the afternoon wore on, everyone gathered around a large table. In the center stood a cake, decorated to look like a Formula 1 car, complete with Charles' lucky number on the side. Twelve candles flickered atop the cake, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze.
Charles's eyes widened as his parents brought out the cake and the guests began to sing "Happy Birthday," their voices rising in a cheerful chorus. YN sang along enthusiastically, watching her best friend's face light up with joy.
As the song came to an end, Charles took a deep breath. With a determined look in his eye, he leaned forward and blew out all twelve candles in one go.
While Charles's mother began cutting the cake, YN edged closer to her best friend. "So," she said with a grin, "what did you wish for? To finally beat me in Mario Kart?"
Charles glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in close. "I wished to win the Monaco Grand Prix one day," he confessed, his green eyes sparkling with dreams of future glory.
YN's smile softened. Even after six years of friendship, Charles's passion for racing never failed to impress her.
"Wow," she said. "That's a pretty big wish."
"It's my biggest dream. But you can't tell anyone, okay? Or it won't come true."
"Your secret's safe with me," she promised. Then, struck by a sudden thought, she held out her pinky finger. "Hey, remember when we promised to be friends forever at your sixth birthday?"
"Of course!" Charles's face lit up with recognition, "Best decision I ever made," he said, linking his pinky with hers.
"Well, let's renew that promise. Friends forever, no matter what. That way, when you win the Monaco Grand Prix, I'll be right there cheering you on."
"Deal," Charles agreed, shaking their linked pinkies. "Forever friends."
As they sealed their promise for the second time, both of them felt the weight of it. At twelve, forever seemed like an awfully long time, but neither could imagine a future without the other in it.
16th birthday
The Italian sun was setting, painting the sky in orange and pink as YN made her way through the bustling paddock. The air smelt of rubber and gasoline, the sounds of engines filling her ears. She clutched a small, wrapped package in her hands, her eyes scanning the team garages for a familiar face.
Finally, she spotted him - Charles was standing next to his Formula 3 car, deep in conversation with his engineer. Even from a distance, she could see the intensity in his eyes, the determination set in his jaw. At sixteen, Charles was no longer the little boy she'd met at that birthday party a decade ago. He was taller now, leaner, with the beginnings of stubble on his chin.
"Charles!" she called out, waving to catch his attention.
His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and his serious expression melted into a wide grin. "YN! You made it!" He excused himself from his engineer and jogged over to her, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Of course I made it," YN laughed, returning the embrace, "I couldn't miss your birthday, even if you insisted on spending it at a racetrack in Italy."
Charles pulled back, his eyes shining with excitement. "I'm so glad you're here. Come on, let me show you around."
As they walked through the paddock, Charles pointed out different teams and drivers, explaining the intricacies of Formula 3 racing. She listened intently, asking questions and marveling at how much Charles had grown not just in stature, but in knowledge and passion for his sport.
They ended up in Charles' team garage, where a small cake sat on a tool cart, a single candle stuck in the center.
"The team got it for me," Charles explained, looking a bit embarrassed. "They said we had to have something, even if we're not having a proper party."
YN smiled softly. "Well, then we better make it count." She lit the candle and started singing "Happy Birthday," her voice soon joined by the mechanics and other team members who had gathered around.
Charles blew out the candle, his cheeks slightly flushed. As the cake was being cut and distributed, YN handed him her gift.
"It's not much," she said as he unwrapped it, "but I thought you might like it."
Inside was a leather-bound journal, the cover embossed with Charles' initials.
"I thought you could use it to write down your thoughts, your goals… maybe even your future Formula 1 strategies," she explained with a wink.
Charles's eyes lit up. "This is perfect. Thank you." He pulled her into another hug, this one lasting a bit longer than usual.
As they sat on the pit wall, eating cake and watching the sun set over the track, YN turned to Charles. "So, how does it feel? Being here, racing in Formula 3… you're so close to your dream now."
Charles nodded, his expression turning serious. "It feels amazing, but also a bit scary. Everything's happening so fast, you know? Sometimes I worry…"
"Worry about what?" she prompted gently.
"That I might not be good enough," Charles sighed, "That I'll let everyone down."
"Charles, look at me," YN reached out and took his hand, when he met her eyes, she continued, "You are the most talented, dedicated person I know. You're going to make it to Formula 1, and you're going to be amazing."
"You really think so?" a small smile tugged at Charles's lips.
"I know so," she affirmed,then, with a playful nudge, she added, "Just promise me one thing?"
"Anything," Charles replied without hesitation.
"When you make it to Formula 1 and become a big star, don't forget about me, okay?"
Charles's expression softened, and for a moment, YN thought she saw something flicker in his eyes - something more than just friendship. But before she could analyze it, he squeezed her hand and said, "I could never forget about you. No matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend."
What YN didn't know was that in that moment, Charles was fighting the urge to tell her how he really felt. That she wasn't just his best friend, but the girl he had fallen in love with years ago.
But the timing wasn't right, not yet.
So he pushed the feelings down, locked them away. There would be time for matters of the heart later. For now, he had a championship to win and a birthday to celebrate - with his best friend by his side, just as she'd always been.
21st birthday
The Monaco night was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Charles Leclerc's 21st birthday party was in full swing at a rooftop bar overlooking the Mediterranean.
The who's who of the racing world mingled with Charles' friends and family, all gathered to celebrate the young Sauber driver's birthday.
YN stood at the edge of the crowd, nursing a glass of champagne as she watched Charles work the room. He moved with an easy confidence, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with team principals and fellow drivers. Yet every few minutes, his eyes would scan the crowd until they found her, and he'd flash her a quick smile before returning to his conversations.
As the night wore on, YN found herself on the balcony, enjoying a moment of quiet away from the party. The view of Monaco at night was breathtaking - the lights of the city twinkled below, mirroring the stars above.
"There you are," a familiar voice said behind her. "I've been looking for you."
She turned to see Charles approaching, two fresh glasses of champagne in his hands. He handed one to her before leaning on the balcony railing beside her.
"Sorry," she said with a small smile. "I just needed a bit of air. It's quite a party in there."
"Yeah, I think the team might have gone a bit overboard," Charles chuckled, "But I'm glad you're here."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their champagne and looking out over the city.
"So," YN said finally, turning to face him. "How does it feel to be 21? Official adult now, Formula 1 driver… you're living the dream, Charles."
Charles's expression turned thoughtful. "It feels… surreal, honestly. Sometimes I can't believe this is my life." He paused, then added softly, "But you know what the best part is?"
"What's that?"
Charles turned to face her, his green eyes intense in the moonlight. "That you're still here. After all these years, all these changes… you're still by my side."
YN felt her heart skip a beat at the earnestness in his voice. "Of course I am, Charles. I'll always be here for you. We made a promise, remember? Best friends forever."
Charles felt his heart race at her words. "Best friends forever." The phrase that had once brought him so much comfort now felt like a bittersweet reminder of the feelings he'd been harboring for so long.
As he looked at her, bathed in the soft glow of the Monaco night, memories flooded his mind. He thought of her cheering him on at his first go-kart race, of late-night study sessions where he'd catch himself staring at her instead of his textbooks, of the way his heart had leapt when she'd surprised him at his race in Italy on his 16th birthday. He realized he couldn't pinpoint exactly when he'd fallen in love with her because, in a way, he always had been.
The weight of his unspoken feelings suddenly felt unbearable. The thought of going another day, another year, without her knowing the truth seemed impossible. Charles took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do.
"YN," he said softly, setting down his champagne glass and taking her free hand in his. "There's something I need to tell you."
She looked up at him, curiosity and a hint of something else – was it hope? – in her eyes. "What is it, Charles?"
Charles swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. "You're right, we did make a promise to be best friends forever. And you are my best friend, YN. You're the person who knows me better than anyone else in the world. But..." he paused, gathering his courage. "But you're not just my best friend. You're the one I'm in love with. I always have been."
YN's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. Charles pressed on, unable to stop now that he'd started.
"I can't hold back anymore. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Every success and failure, every moment of doubt or triumph – you're the one I want to share it all with. Not just as my friend, but as... as more."
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know this might change everything between us, and if you don't feel the same way, I understand. But I couldn't let another birthday go by without telling you the truth. You're it for me, YN. You always have been."
For a moment that felt like an eternity, she stood frozen, her eyes locked with Charles's. The weight of his words hung in the air between them, charged with years of unspoken feelings and shared history.
Then, without warning, YN closed the distance between them. She reached up, cupping Charles's face in her hands, and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Charles, caught off guard for only a split second, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.
When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, YN rested her forehead against Charles'. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears of joy as she whispered, "I love you too, Charles. I think I always have."
Charles felt his heart soar, a smile spreading across his face that was brighter than any he'd ever worn on a podium. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder and hope.
She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Really. I just... I never thought you'd feel the same way. You're Charles, I'm just-"
"You're everything," Charles interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You're my best friend, my biggest supporter, the person I want to share every moment with. You're the one who knows all of me, not just the racer, but the boy who still gets nervous before every race and who can't sleep without his lucky charm."
YN smiled, remembering the small trinket she'd given him years ago that he still kept with him at every race. "We've been quite oblivious, haven't we?" she said, shaking her head in amusement.
Charles chuckled, pulling her close again. "Maybe. But we have all the time in the world to make up for it now."
As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms with the twinkling lights of Monaco as their backdrop, both felt as though they were exactly where they were meant to be. The sounds of the party drifted out to them, a reminder of the celebration waiting inside, but for now, they were content in their own world.
"Happy birthday, Charles," YN murmured, leaning in for another kiss.
Charles smiled against her lips. "Best birthday ever," he replied before closing the distance between them once more.
24th birthday
The sun was setting over Monaco as YN stood in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She smoothed down her dress, a sleek number in Charles' favorite shade of red. As she fastened her earrings, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.
"You look absolutely stunning," Charles murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder and meeting her eyes in the mirror.
She smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "You clean up pretty well yourself, birthday boy," she replied, taking in his sharp suit and perfectly styled hair.
Charles pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her neck, causing her to shiver slightly. "You know," he said, his voice low and playful, "we could always skip the party. Stay here, just the two of us…"
"Nice try, Leclerc," YN laughed, turning in his arms to face him, "But your team worked hard on this party, and all your friends and family are waiting." She reached up, straightening his tie. "Besides, I put a lot of effort into your gift. I want to see your face when you open it."
"Oh? Any hints about what it might be?" Charles' eyes lit up with curiosity.
"Not a chance," YN grinned, tapping his nose playfully. "You'll just have to wait and see."
He pouted for a moment before breaking into a warm smile. "Fine, keep your secrets. As long as I have you by my side, that's all the gift I need."
YN felt her heart melt at his words. Even after all these years, Charles still had the ability to make her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
"I love you," she whispered against his mouth.
"I love you too," Charles replied, deepening the kiss for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. "But you're right, we should get going. We don't want to be late to my own party."
As they drove through the winding streets of Monaco, the city lights twinkling like stars, YN couldn't help but steal glances at Charles. Suddenly, she noticed that they were heading away from the bustling city center.
"Charles?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. "I think we're going the wrong way. The party's downtown, isn't it?"
Charles smiled mysteriously, his eyes never leaving the road. "I thought we'd take a little detour first. Trust me?"
"Always."
They drove in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the familiar sights of Monaco giving way to a quieter, more residential area. Finally, Charles pulled up in front of a beautiful house, its elegant facade bathed in the glow of streetlights.
"Charles, what are we doing here?" YN asked as he came around to open her door.
He took her hand, helping her out of the car. "I have something to show you," he said softly, leading her towards the house.
As they approached the front door, Charles pulled out a key. YN's eyes widened in surprise. "Charles, is this...?"
He unlocked the door and gently guided her inside. The house was empty, but even in the dim light, she could see its potential - high ceilings, large windows, and an open floor plan that seemed to invite warmth and laughter.
Charles watched her take it all in, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. Finally, he spoke.
"YN, from the moment I met you, you've been my home. No matter where I am in the world, no matter what challenges I face on the track, you're my constant. My safe haven."
She turned to face him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Charles continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But I realized that while you've given me a home in your heart, I've never been able to offer you a physical place that's truly ours. Until now."
He took both of her hands in his. "This house... I bought it for us. I want it to be our home. A place where we can build our future together, where we can come back to after long days or weeks apart. A place filled with our love and hopefully... our family someday."
Tears were now flowing freely down YN's cheeks. "Charles," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
"I know my career keeps us traveling a lot," he said, reaching up to wipe away her tears gently. "But I want you to have roots, a place that's ours. Where you can always feel safe and loved, even when I'm not there."
YN let out a watery laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You never cease to amaze me, Charles Leclerc. This is... it's perfect. It's more than I ever dreamed of."
"So, what do you say?" Charles pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers, "Ready to start our next chapter here?"
Instead of answering with words, she closed the gap between them, pouring all her love and gratitude into a passionate kiss. When they finally parted, both breathless, she whispered, "Yes. A thousand times, yes."
They stood there in the empty house that would soon become their home, holding each other close. The party, the guests, the whole world outside ceased to exist for a moment. It was just the two of them, standing on the threshold of their future together.
After a while, Charles chuckled softly. "You know, we're probably very late for the party now."
"I know," she said, her voice still thick with emotion, "It's supposed to be me giving you gifts on your birthday, not the other way around."
Charles chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I've never been very good at following rules," he teased. "Besides, seeing your face when I showed you our home? That's the best gift I could ever receive."
YN shook her head, a warm smile playing on her lips. "You're impossible, you know that? But I love you for it."
"And I love you, for as long as I can remember."
27th birthday
Charles stood on the balcony of their home, the same one he had surprised YN with three years ago. His fingers absently traced the outline of a small velvet box in his pocket, his heart racing with anticipation and nerves.
Inside, he could hear her moving about, putting the finishing touches on his birthday dinner. The aroma of his favorite dishes filled the air, bringing a smile to his face. At 27, Charles had achieved more than he ever dreamed possible – multiple Formula 1 wins, a strong contender for the championship, and most importantly, a life shared with his best friend and the love of his life.
"Charles?" her voice called from inside. "Dinner's ready!"
He took a deep breath, patting the ring box one last time before heading inside. The dining room was bathed in soft candlelight, the table set beautifully with their best china. YN stood by the table, looking radiant in a deep red dress that matched the color he wore on race days.
"Happy birthday, my love," she said softly, pulling him into a tender kiss.
As they sat down to eat, Charles couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd come. "You know," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand, "I was just thinking about my sixth birthday party."
"The day we met," she said with a warm smile. "How could I forget? I was so nervous about moving to a new place."
Charles chuckled, remembering the shy little girl who had hidden behind her mother's leg. "And now look at us. Twenty-one years later, and you're still the best gift I've ever received."
YN felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "I remember you asked me to come to all your future birthdays," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
"And you've been here for every single one," Charles replied, his green eyes shining with love.
The weight of the ring box in Charles' pocket seemed to grow heavier, but he resisted the urge to pull it out just yet. Tonight was about celebrating. The proposal could wait for another perfect moment.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he continued, "but I thank my lucky stars every day that you walked into that birthday party all those years ago. You've made every birthday since then more special than the last."
"Oh, Charles," she whispered, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "You've given me more than I ever dreamed possible. That little girl who was so scared of not fitting in found her home in you."
They came together in a kiss that was soft and sweet, yet filled with the depth of their shared history and the promise of their future. As they held each other close, both were transported back to that sunny day in Monaco, two six-year-olds making a promise of friendship that had blossomed into a love story for the ages.
When they finally pulled apart, Charles rested his forehead against hers, a soft smile playing on his lips. "So," he said, his voice light but filled with emotion, "think you might stick around for a few more birthdays?"
YN laughed, the sound like music to Charles' ears. "Just try and keep me away, Leclerc. You're stuck with me for all your birthdays, forever and always."
As they finished their dinner, Charles felt the ring box in his pocket once more. Soon, he thought, he'd ask her to make it official, to promise him not just all his birthdays, but every day in between.
But for now, he was content to bask in the glow of their love, celebrating not just his 27th birthday, but the incredible journey they'd shared.
#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc fake instagram#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc fanfiction#harrysfolklore#f1 x reader#charles leclerc smut#f1 grid x reader#cl16 x reader#charles leclerc birthday
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He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when he comes home to find the new pooch you rescued, he says the reason he allows her to stay is because your puppy eyes softened him up (...sure).
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but less than a week into having the dog, he’s already letting her sleep on your bed because he thinks the one you bought her looks “too lumpy”.
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when a clap of thunder scares the poor girl, he’s cuddled up right beside her on the couch, comforting her until the storm passes.
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when you find the skull-themed bandana amongst his purchases from the pet store, he claims to have zero knowledge about how that wound up in there.
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but after he upgrades to a newer phone, the first pictures he takes are of your pup whilst she’s having a nap.
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but to celebrate her birthday, he throws her a full-blown party – complete with decorations, presents, and a homemade cake (for your birthday, he just got you a card).
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when he thinks you’re not looking, he sneaks her little bites of food from his own plate.
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when he accidentally steps on one of her paws, he sits there for 20 minutes apologizing profusely to her.
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but every time he calls home when he’s deployed, one of the first questions out of his mouth is, “How’s m– the dog doin’?”
He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when she finally learns the trick he’s been trying to teach her for weeks, you swear you almost see him cry.
He was Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but the moment that little four-legged girl wiggled her way into his life, he knew he was a goner.
#today's my dog's birthday so i wanted to post a little something something :)#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley fluff#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#modern warfare 2
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Extra super duper late happy birthday to @crabsnpersimmons! Thank you for always being an inspiration! I think about your aus a lot!
Also, take this rejected birthday idea (It was too silly, too indulgent)
Let's go be regulars at Shooting Star Salon! 💇
#Who would you pick#And why is it B U F F M O O N#And dw guys I sent crabs the draft on the day of her birthday!#And thank you for waiting crabs!! 🙇♀️💕#dca fandom#fnaf dca#dca au#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#fnaf eclipse#fnaf daycare attendant#sunnydrop x reader#moondrop x reader#eclipse x reader#my art
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The moment you gave birth to your first born, a baby boy, Megumi's heart stopped in time his breathing halt from the wind blows and his whole being suddenly burst into million of lights.
His eyes wouldn't believe the little bundle you are holding with tired sweat face and hair disheveled you have but your eyes are filled with happiness and adoration from you and your husband's love.
But him? He is either happy, surprised, scared and other more he's extremely nervous, or just mixed! But the moment held his little angel, his body trembling his eyes are starting to blur in tears trying so hard not to wake their son and his tear drop on top his face. He is here, he is finally born.
When he open his eyes, he got yours, the love of his life share the same light as his son.
You know what he'll do? Megumi would always, ALWAYS remember your eyes the way they gleam in happiness, strength, sorrow, love and hope that you didn't gave up on him because he was the idiot for making hard on himself and you are the precious being that was needed the love you deserve.
And now it's here it is beginning.
#lexi rambles. ♡#Happy Birthday to meeee!!#I am sleepy while working this ahajwnwkwk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#jujutsu megumi#megumi x y/n#megumi x you#megumi fluff#megumi domestic#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jujutsu
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Big Pharma
Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader
Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?
Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.
Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k
The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.
Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.
As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.
This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.
You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.
You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.
Well, the only side effect.
Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”
“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”
“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”
You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.
“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…
“Good. A team player. We value that here.”
You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.
“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.
He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.
You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.
Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.
See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.
Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.
The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.
Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior.
You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.
Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.
Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?
“Doc, no,” he breaths.
“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.
Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”
‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.
“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.
He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.
It’s your job to break him and break him right now.
“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”
There’s a flat smack on the door.
“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.
That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.
“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”
In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.
Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.
You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.
“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.
He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.”
His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.
You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.
Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.
“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”
That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.
His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.
Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.
You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.
He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.
Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.
“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.
Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.
Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.
Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.
You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.
A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”
You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.
“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock.
He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.
He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.
A box of tissues is set by your side.
“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?”
You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”
Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.
“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.
“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”
Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.
There’s another impatient bang at the door.
“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”
Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”
It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.
You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.
Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.
“What’d you do, blow a vein?”
You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.
“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.
His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.
Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.
It seems you’re both addicted now.
[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]
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