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amomentsescape · 7 months ago

Note

Slashers handling ovulating s/o?? 😚

Btw I love your work so much! You’re amazing

Slashers with Ovulating! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo

Warnings: MDNI, suggestive and mature content (It gets pretty steamy but nothing too crazy)

A/N: Definitely the most NSFW fic I've posted on this page. As a reminder, I don't write smut so this will probably be as steamy as I get for my posts. But this was a fun request, and I enjoyed writing for it! Thank you, Anon!

Freddy Krueger

Your dreams give you away

(Yes, he'll watch your dreams if he's not already controlling them; there's no privacy with this man)

And he's very interested in these dreams you've been having recently

It only takes a couple for Freddy to quickly snap

You'll go to sleep one night only to find yourself immediately in Freddy's domain

The setting and environment feeling very familiar somehow

You won't see him at first, but you'll definitely feel him around you, his voice echoing around the dreamscape

"Wanna make those dreams come true, baby?" he cackles throughout the darkness

Before you'll be able to respond, you'll feel his hand slide over your waist

The question was mostly out of politeness

He's not going to let you say no now that he has you (not that you were going to anyways)

Michael Myers

He picks up on everything in an instant

Your smell, your actions, your voice- literally everything is screaming at him

Now, Michael has a lot of self-discipline

He could just go about the day like usual and not need to indulge in anything

But he wants to

Don't mistaken this for "giving in"

It's just another way for him to put himself in control

You're just so desperate for him that he can just about get away with anything he wants

A simple touch has you weak in the knees, a slap on the ass has you arching your back

He could just absolutely ruin you these next few days

And he is very much planning on doing so

Jason Voorhees

Jason is fairly innocent when it comes to this sort of topic with you

But unlike Bubba, he does pick up on your teasing after a bit, he's just too flustered to do anything back

He loves the attention, but the way you're making him feel is causing him to freeze up and blush wildly under his mask

He knows you love him, but he can't understand how someone like you could possibly desire someone like him

He can't even hold eye contact with you when you're looking at him like that

When you've finally grown too impatient, you'll hop on his lap and grab his cheek, forcing him to look at you

He'll give you a big sigh and concerned eyes, silently asking if you're sure

"Jason. I want you. I want you and only you."

Those words must have been laced with magic, because a switch flips, and he's suddenly standing up, holding you bridal style

He'll toss you onto the bed and crawl on top, suddenly more confident than earlier

Looks like all he needs is a little bit of reassurance during this time of the month

Thomas Hewitt

It might just be the primal side of him, but he can literally smell it

Your pheromones during this time of month are always consistent to the point that he anticipates this weeks in advance

He lingers around you more often than normal (which isn't saying much since he stays near you 99% of the time anyways)

He's just waiting for the moment that you'll let him take a bite

And if you bump into him just slightly, his breath hitches and he'll freeze, hoping maybe you'll turn that bump into something more

Stands a little too close to you so he can breathe in your scent

But he's also hoping it'll increase the chance of you rubbing up against him on "accident"

This only makes things worse for the both of you until you two are finally alone together

All you have to do is give him that look, and he's throwing you over his shoulder, locking you two away for the night

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is a very innocent man

He didn't even really know what the concept of "sex" was before you

So unfortunately for you, pulling out all stops will quite literally do nothing

You could stand there completely bare in front of him, and he'll sweetly think you want to shower

That's not to say you're constant touches and flirting don't do anything for him

They do, he just doesn't understand what that feeling is yet

When you finally get to be alone with him, you'll gently let your hands wander, watching carefully at his reactions

Once you hit a sensitive spot, you'll know

His breath will hitch and he'll give you this soft, pleading look

And once you kiss him, that fire inside him will quickly engulf his body

You just have to give him a sweet questioning glance, and he'll be feverishly nodding his head, grabbing at your wrists to continue

Brahms Heelshire

To be honest, whether or not your ovulating doesn't really change how Brahms acts around you day to day

Because he is always down bad for you

But he does appreciate how quickly you seem to return his advances during this time of the month

He enjoys turning it into some sort of game when he can too

You'll feel his breath on your neck, only to be met with an empty room

You'll feel his gaze on you all throughout the house without a single sight of his whereabouts

When you finally have had enough, you'll break

Turning on the shower peaks his interest

And the moment he sees that first button of your top open, he's revealing himself from the walls

You've been working so hard for him today

He thinks it's time for you to finally relax

Norman Bates

Norman knows before you do

The sweet man tracks your cycles for you, always wanting to be prepared to care for you in the way you need

But this time of month isn't one where he feels too bold

He becomes even more shy somehow, having trouble holding eye contact

Every kiss or hug from you sets him aflame, and he turns into a blushing mess

It's honestly like he's the one who's ovulating

And all you have to do is hold him for just a little bit too long and whisper in his ear to make him break

He'll quite literally fall to his knees in front of you, waiting for anything

He'll do whatever it is you ask

Like I said, he wants to care for you in any way you need

Billy Loomis

He tries to be smug about everything

You're more affectionate than normal, even doing some PDA that he's not used to from you

He just acts like his usual self out in public

But the moment you two are alone, he confronts you

He'll pin you against the door, his free hand wandering across your skin while he looks at you with dark eyes

"You think I can't see what you're doing? It's not very nice of you to be such a tease."

His voice is barely above a whisper while his grip on you tightens

His wandering hand finds the most sensitive spot on you and squeezes, causing you to let out a whimper

He smiles in return

"You're going to have to do better than that to make it up to me," he whispers, leaning in gently

Stu Macher

Look at this guy

He literally can't keep his tongue in his mouth (sorry, bad joke)

He can tell something is up though

You're more cuddly than usual, practically sitting on his lap at all points during the day

And Stu does not mind one bit, but he isn't sure what's gotten into you

You're hoping he'll take the hint, but he's as oblivious as he is happy

It's only when you straddle his lap and kiss him deeply that he understands what's going on

His hands are on you in an instant

He'll happily oblige to your "demands"

Just be careful when and where you decide to break though

Because the moment you open that door, Stu will be having you in that instant

And if he has to pull you into a broom closet in public to do so...

He will

Vincent Sinclair

Despite barely seeing the light of day most of his life, he's fairly knowledgeable about everything

But unlike his brother, he doesn't really get driven up the wall by this time of the month

He just wants you to be happy, so if being flirted with and touched every two seconds is what you want, he'll happily go along with it

Even though his face feels like it's going to burn off again every time

He won't initiate anything, but he also won't say no to anything you do

Just guide his hands and tell him what you need, and he'll be helping you out instantly

He doesn't even expect anything in return

But when you smile at him just like that, his brain might short circuit

He'll be your slave if you ask nicely

Bo Sinclair

Bo is, well, Bo

He sometimes acts like he can't tell or that he's too "deep" into his work at the moment to be bothered

But he knows

And he loves the feeling of being needed and desired

You'll come up to him, hugging him for a bit too long, your hands lingering on his chest and torso

He likes to play coy

He wants to see you break first

He'll happily make it worse for you too

Hands on your waist, a gentle caress of your neck, that piercing gaze of his

He can see your face flush and body practically tremble at his actions

But he won't do anything about it

It won't be until the end of the day when he finally comes back home to find you already waiting at the door

You about have to throw yourself onto him before that smile finally breaks out onto his face

"So impatient, aren't we darlin'? Gonna show me just how badly you need me?"

3K notes · View notes

aetherraeys · 4 months ago

Text

visual learner

poly!marauder x inexperienced!reader ⊹ 5.1k

for this request!

cw ⟢ suggestive, first kisses, nervous!reader, tension, teasing, slightly domestic, newly established relationship, lots of kissing!

being a late-bloomer was never really an issue for you, until you're faced with figuring out how to go about kissing not just one boy, but three.

a/n: yes this is 5000 words of kissing and what? not proofread

If you were to think back, it honestly never bothered you much, you’d come to terms with it quite well—you were a late bloomer.

Sure, it meant that you didn’t have the exact same experiences as most of your peers when growing up, making those late nights in the dorms when the voices of all your friends danced around the room, feet kicking giddily as they shared which boy they’d gone to Hogsmead with that weekend. Or when they detailed the innocent lingering touches and fleeting eye contact they’d made with their crush—in person demonstrations and all. Of course, those nights were fun, playful girls nights, but it more listening than reenacting for you.

Even as you progressed further, graduating and starting univerisity, it didn’t bug you like your friends had assumed it would—’it’ being your lack of experience.

And it wasn’t that you were undesirable, far from it, opportunity isn’t an issue—you just weren’t in a rush. It also didn’t make you any more eager to speed things along after hearing countless disappointing and awkward recounts of your friends experiences.

Quite frankly, it just wasn’t the be-all and end-all of your youth, you had plenty of other things to worry about, plenty of other things that kept your mind comfortably occupied. And you were still young, there was still time for you to play catch-up, if and when you decided you wanted to.

The thing is, you were under the impression had a say in it in the first place—when in reality, the universe had other plans for you.

And those plans?

As it turned out, took form in the shape of three boys.

You’d thought they were a bit strange at orientation, their dynamic an interesting sight to say the least. But it wasn’t very long before you were sucked into their orbit, well and truly in the thick of it—completely out of your depth.

Because you’d yet to have a boyfriend, let alone three, but alas—you found yourself unable to deny them.

Falling into place with them relatively seemlessly, although the boys had been dating long before you came into the picture and have known each other longer, that wasn’t why you kept finding yourself picking at the skin around your nails, knawing at the flesh on the inside of your mouth, frequently lost in deep thought.

Granted, most of this was fairly new.

Welcomed, wanted, loved—you should be perfectly content right now, but there was small looming inkling of something in the back of your mind every time you saw them.

They were so comfortable together, in complete and almost constant harmony with each other—and it was a sight to behold, perfect and cozy as they lounged around Sirius’ thankfully large flat.

Both him and James lying on one end of the settee, tangled together in an obsure pile of limbs. Sirius had his hands underneath James’ shirt—baring the bottom of his stomach and pretty brown happy trail out in the open, fingers tracing soft and small patterns onto his skin. James’ hand carding and threading through his curls while mindlessly scrolling on his phone, occassional content hums leaving his mouth. Remus—he was sat on the floor resting his back against the sofa, pressed against James’ leg, head leaning on his knee, book in hand.

The epitome of domesticity.

All so very intune with each other, and then there was you.

Sat at the other end of the couch, just over an arms length away from them, scrunched into the corner covered in a blanket—trying to reach the word count for a project and failing miserably to focus on the screen in front of you.

It’s simple, you could go, scoot over and join them in their comfortable bliss, but it seemed just that bit too hard—where would you start?

Until now you never considered being inexperienced a bad thing, but you couldn’t help but wonder how if just a bit of knowhow would’ve make you less shy to join.

Navigating the mass of bodies should really be at the bottom of your to-do list, so taking a deep breath, you force your attention to the painstakingly boring work on your lap, once again starting to type. You’d built up a good rhythm, the words flowing easier as the time went by, and even though your legs had gone numb a while ago, it seemed like a good idea to ride the wave of concentration while you still had it.

So much so that you didn’t notice the shuffling sounds of movement going on a meer meter away. James had made his way up and off the couch, padding into the kitchen, switching on the radio upon entry—a telltale sign he’d about to start cooking.

The space James had left on couch was still hot from his residual heat when, on cue, Sirius reach his hand over to Remus’ shoulder, pouting dramatically, patting the still-warm space on the couch. “You’re not coming up?”

Remus, his neck tilted back slightly to look at Sirius, exhaled through his nose. He hesitated for half a second before shifting to stand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he muttered, pushing himself up.

As he moved past you, his fingertips brushed against your leg—so lightly, so fleetingly that you barely registered the touch, too engrossed in your project to notice. If you had noticed, you might’ve seen the way he glanced at you, how his gaze lingered for just a beat longer than necessary.

By the time he plopped down onto the couch, Sirius wasted no time crawling onto him, sprawling across his lap like a cat seeking warmth. Remus just huffed out a light chuckle as Sirius melted against him, pressing his face into his shoulder and humming contentedly. Instinctively, Remus’ hand came up to his hair, fingers tangling in soft curls, stroking without thought.

But even as he did, his eyes flickered back to you—quick, searching glances that went unnoticed. He can imagine it to be overwhelming, entering an already established relationship—still so many things unspoken, still so much to learn. And Remus ever the watcher, had noticed how your little habits—your tendencies to take up as little space as possible, shrinking slightly under the pressure of intimacy.

It’s not that you’re afraid of it—affection, intimacy—it was that you were just genuinely clueless, there’s not exactly a manual on how to do all; something that they already do so well, so intuitively between themselves.

It made you nervous is all, unable to imagine how awkward it would be if you’d done the wrong thing, put yourself in the wrong place—the room for mistakes seemed endless.

Still, Remus wasn’t going to push, or pry. Not until he was sure, sure that the way your fingers twitch by your side was with the desire to join, sure that your not so discrete hesitant glances were of a longing nature.

All his thoughts were about you, that was until Sirius distracted him in the best way he knew how.

Soft, light kisses pressed against his collarbone, trailing up to his neck, his jaw. His lips warm delicately working his way up until he was scattering pecks across Remus’ face—his nose, the tops of his freckled cheekbones, his temple—Remus was still slightly spying on you despite Sirius’ playful assault.

And, of course just moments before this your concentration had finally faltered, the smell of whatever James was cooking breaking your focus ever so slightly.

His eyes flicked toward where you sat—shoulders hunched ever so slightly forward, brows furrowed in that way they always did when you were deep in concentration. He wondered if you even realized the way you bit at your lip, the way your fingers twitched ever so slightly like they wanted to fidget, to reach out.

Sirius barely registered the amused hum from him before the next kiss landed, this time firmer against the corner of his mouth. Then another—this one lingering, coaxing, before Sirius finally pressed their lips together properly, letting it stretch just long enough for Remus to forget what he was doing.

You blinked, taking in the scene, your eyes widening slightly before flitting away, your fingers pausing over your keyboard. Lips pursing together slightly before your teeth peaked out and took hold of the corner of your mouth.

Sirius felt the way the corners of Remus’ lips spread into a smirk before he pulled away from him, just long enough to whispered to him, breath tickling the shell of his ear, “Watch her,”

Pulling them both onto their side, stealing small looks in your direction as he kissed Remus again—this time deeper, more obnoxious, more deliberate—sighs and hums of contentment bouncing between them.

Naturally, your eyes drifted to the source of the noise, body stilling as though unsure whether to look away or keep watching.

They found it quite cute, the way you eyes darted around the room frantically, trying hard to not stare despite being helplessly drawn to look at the cause of sounds. Teeth mercilessly taking refuge in your cheek, forcing your lips in to a pout that bordered bashful.

Curious thing, you were.

Satisfied with the effect, he exhaled a quiet laugh against Sirius’ lips and decided to stop tormenting you—for now. With a final squeeze to Sirius’ waist, Remus stood, making his way over towering tall over you and, without hesitation, shut your laptop with a soft click.

Whipping your head to find him, brows arched up, a light smirk twitching at his lips as he looked down at you—gaze so intense you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at whatever was causing the sofa to dip beside you.

Only breaking when you felt his hot breath skim along the edge of your earlobe—spine immediately becoming taut, skin prickling down the back of your neck. Sirius was so close and you didn’t need to look at him to know he had a mischievous smirk playing on his lips—“I think you’ve worked hard enough, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from them both, of the weight of their gazes—teasing, expectant, knowing. You weren’t completely unfamilar with their touch, James loved to press obnoxious wet kisses on your cheeks. Remus was also very well versed in the language of forehead kisses and hand holding—Sirius had even gone as far to occassionally sneak dangerous little pecks onto the thin skin behind your ear when you cuddled.

Alert, and flickering panicked looks between them, the tips of your ears felt hot as you stammered out the words, “uh—everything okay?”

Your hands were in your lap clasped together tightly—thumb unconsciously picking at the skin around your nails when Sirius came impossibly closer to you, a small huffed chuckle leaving as he neared. Fingertips brushing a few stray hairs behind your ears, voice low and smooth— “Mmmm, everything’s fine—Moony’s just got a question,”

He could feel the slight shudder that ran through your body, gaze shifting to Remus, hands stuffed into his pockets, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leaned down over you—very clearly entertained by your reactions. His eyes darted around your face, scanning, observing your wide-eyed expression, how you sunk into the soft cushion, trying to put space between you.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a crooked smile, tilting his head as he asked;

“Would you like one?”

The warmth of Sirius’ fingertips trailing light ghostly touches down the side of your neck was so distracting, making your mouth painfully dry, air catching in your throat as your opened and closed your lips repeatedly. Wracking your brain for a response, words, anything—but it felt annoyingly blank, sucking in a shaky breath, your words came out pinched and meek—breathy on the exhale.

Sirius snickered under his breath, barely containing his delight at your reaction, and Remus exhaled a soft chuckle of his own.

“One what?”

Even if you tried to push yourself any further into the couch, practically willing yourself to become one with the fabric—anything to escape this awful flipping feeling at the pits of your stomach—you couldn’t. And it only got worse when Remus leaned in further, precariously close, the tip of his nose just barely grazing the skin of your cheekbones, Sirius could see the way your shoulders inched up and up, closer to your ears as your virtually shrunk into yourself.

Remus’ voice was rough and teasing, making the heat that resided in the tips of your ear spread invasively under the skin of your cheeks. “I saw you—it’s okay to be curious, my love, ” He took his hands from his pockets and brought one to the arm of the sofa, the other resting on the ball of Sirius’ knee, that was flush against yours. He leaned back as he continued, capturing your gaze, “You don’t have to be so shy about it.”

His words were low, steady, laced with that quiet knowing that made your stomach tighten. He was close—too close, and Sirius wasn’t any better, his fingertips still ghosting along your jaw, trailing up toward your ear, his shoulders brushing against yours.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe properly, heat blooming in your chest—radiating outwards, the close proximity, it all just had your head feeling rattled. “I—” You started, but the words immediately died in your throat, and Sirius huffed dramatically, shifting even nearer.

“C’mon, love, we won’t bite.” His breath was warm against your skin. “Unless you want us to.”

Your inhale was sharp, and Sirius grinned, practically preening at your reaction.

But Remus—Remus remained still, observing, reading for any flicker of hesitation, every small tell you didn’t even realize you were giving away. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way your hands curled into your lap, the way your breath hitched when Sirius’ fingers traced your pulse.

And then, his voice dropped even lower, softer—”So would you like one?” The back of his fingers came lightly over the curve of your jaw, lips brushing the bottom of your earlobes when he finally whispered,

“A kiss.”

Your stomach flipped violently, breath hitching and as a light shudder passed over your body—Remus must have noticed, because he smiled—soft and knowing, tilting his head slightly, giving you space, waiting. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding—just offering.

And somehow, that was even more overwhelming.

Lips parted slightly, words failing you completely, barely forcing out the start of a sentence, “B—” When his voice rang just behind you, dripping with amusement; “Have I walked into an ambush?” You hadn’t even noticed James entering the room.

But that was exactly how you felt, ambushed—trapped like a lamb in the midst of a group of lions, chest skipping out of its rhythmic rise and fall when James’ hand slid gently over your shoulder, your lips were still parted, holding the remains of your unfinished sentence. Sirius spoke, turning his head to look at James, smirk taking on a wolfish quality—”Just seeing if our girl would like a kiss,” As the last word left his lips, he was facing you again, head tilting to fit into the dip of your neck, lips almost gliding over the skin.

No where to run, the combined weight of their gaze made you awfully aware of your racing heartbeat, sounding loud between your ears, riccocheting off the empty space in your brain—only able to blink-up at Remus, mouth agape.

Sirius made an amused little noise in the back of his throat. “She’s thinking too hard again,” he murmured, his fingertips moving from their place on your collarbone, to travel down the curve of your skin—fighting every urge in your body to not arch away from his touch. His palm stopped and rest in the small of your back, hot and anchoring.

“Darling, it’s a yes or no question.” The words were still soft, still pressure-less, leaving you all the room in the world to stop this.

Your fingers twitched slightly, curling into the fabric of your sweater, throat suddenly unbearably dry—still completely entrapped under Remus’ watchful eye.

“I’ve never—” You swallowed. “I don’t know how.”

It was more breath than words, was barely a whisper, almost inaudible, but they all heard it.

Sirius exhaled sharply through his nose, amused, James’ palm soothed comfortingly over you shoulder, while Remus’ smile softened further, something impossibly tender flashing across his face.

“That’s alright,” he murmured, voice quiet, patient. His hand lifted slightly, fingers hovering near your cheek but barely touching, waiting for any sign, any indication from you. “I could show you.”

Sirius hummed lightly beside you, clearly pleased with where this was going. “Mmm, yeah, Moons is an excellent teacher.”

Your gaze flickered between them, caught between the heat of Sirius’ mischief and the warmth of Remus’ patience, the quiet promise in his eyes.

Your heart was pounding.

Opening your mouth, but nothing came out, your throat tight—only able to nod shyly. Sirius took pity on you, grinning as he shifted back and patted his lap invitingly.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he purred. “Front row seat for the lesson.”

You blinked at him, completely dumbfounded,

“What?”

Remus, ever patient, gave Sirius a look, but there was amusement there, too. “We’ll give you a demonstration.”

Sirius patted his thigh again, eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, love, don’t be shy.”

You hesitated for a long moment, but Sirius just raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly, his fingers tapping against his leg. James had already made his way around the sofa, and looked just entirely too pleased at the idea.

Eventually, you sighed, heat creeping along the back of your neck as you shuffled over, hesitantly perching yourself on Sirius’ lap. His arms immediately wound around your waist, back flush against his chest, keeping you snug against him as he leaned in, breath tickling your ear.

Remus huffed out a quiet laugh, already reaching for James' collar, tugging him forward until their lips met in an easy, practiced rhythm. Practically melting into each others touch.

It was undemanding, natural. And unconsciously, your eyes darted away from the scene, flickering down onto your hands that still endlessly fiddled with the hem of your sleeve. But, against your luck, Sirius caught you.

“No no no, keep looking,” His voice was gentle, no traces of reprimand, he could feel stiff you were—breath shallow, shoulders tense. Pulling you in further against him, hand moving from your waist to settle on the round of your thighs—thumb stroking in a soothing pattern. Along with the way his voice rumbled of his voice in chest against your back and the velvety hum of his words, “Relax, love,” purged some of the nervous tension that had settled in your bones away.

It wasn’t just that they were kissing—it was how. The effortless way James’ hands slid into Remus’ hair, the way Remus exhaled softly into it, melting just a bit. The way their noses brushed, the way Remus tilted his head slightly to deepen it, slow and unhurried, languid in a way that sent something strange and warm curling in your stomach.

It was so fluid, second-nature.

James made a quiet noise in the back of his throat when Remus bit at his bottom lip, and Sirius hummed behind you.

“See that?” he murmured against your ear. “Slow, but firm. It’s not a race, love. It’s about feeling it, letting it happen.”

Your breath was shallow, completely entranced, and James—who had definitely caught the way your fingers curled against Sirius’ hands your thighs—broke the kiss just long enough to grin at you.

“You taking notes, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Sirius chuckled, chin propped on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Prongs, I think she’s getting the idea.”

Your entire body was on fire.

And he could feel it, the heat radiating off your body against his, trying not fidget in his lap, and he didn’t help your case. Opting to torture you more with his low teasing cadance and lips dangerously close to your pulse, whispering; “Think you’re ready to try?”

You swallowed thickly, pulse hammering in your throat. Ready to try? That was the question, wasn’t it?

Because in theory, you knew what kissing was supposed to be. You’d seen it a thousand times—in movies, in books, in passing glances stolen between strangers. But knowing wasn’t feeling, and feeling was something else entirely.

Especially when three sets of eyes were locked onto you, waiting.

You wet your lips unconsciously, and Sirius made a pleased little sound behind you, his hands settling more firmly, squeezing lightly against your thighs. “That’s a good start,” he murmured. “Mmm, maybe she’s a natural, Moons.”

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head slightly to catch Remus’ expression. He was still watching you, his gaze steady, unreadable. You searched for impatience there, for amusement, for any sign of frustration—but there was none. Only quiet, open curiosity, waiting for you to make the call.

Inhaling deeply though your nose, a light wave of hesitance flickering through you.

“I…” You trailed off, glancing over at James, who had since leaned back against the couch, all easy confidence, his head tilting slightly to the side. “With…who?”

The second the words left your mouth, Sirius laughed, delighted.

“Oh, love,” he purred, adjusting his wide legged position even wider, causing your hips to fall further into his middle—sinking into his touch. “That’s the best part.”

James smirked at that, hazel eyes flashing. “Mmm, guess it’s only fair we let you pick,” he mused. “We wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Liar.

You didn’t believe that for a second, not when Sirius was grinning like the cat that got the cream, and certainly not when Remus had the nerve to sit beside James, looking at you like he was already in your head, reading your thoughts before you could even think them.

Your heart was racing so fast you were surprised they couldn’t hear it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to—you did. But what if you messed it up? What if you got the angle wrong, or forgot to breathe, or—

“Darling.” Remus’ voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, quiet but firm. You snapped your gaze to him automatically, fingers twitching, picking at the jean fabric of by Sirius’ hands. “There’s nothing to get wrong.”

You barely had time to react before he leaned in—slow, deliberate—just close enough that the warmth of him made your breath stutter.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

You hesitated, but after a beat, you did.

The next thing you felt was the feather-light brush of his lips against your cheek—not quite a kiss, not really, just the barest ghost of contact. Lips parting, letting a shallow hitching breath pass.

“There,” he murmured. “Easy, isn’t it?”

His lips brushed another kiss over the curve of your jaw, still unbearably gentle, giving you time, giving you space. You inhale shakily, body still burning against Sirius, Remus just hummed, trailing the kisses just slightly lower. There was barely any time for you to respond before he finally—finally—pressed his lips against yours

It was so much softer than you’d expected, warm and welcoming. Not demanding, not urgent—just there, patient, waiting for you to catch up.

Your stomach flipped, and Sirius hummed his approval against your ear, his hands rubbing absent, slow circles into your sides. James, let out a quiet exhale, watching intently from beside Remus—hands twitching almost in efforts to stay put.

Trying your best to stay out of your head, focus on the kiss but not too hard, pace yourself, enjoy the moment—your hands curling into themselves at your sides. But when Remus hummed, a small pleased sound into the kiss, the tension building in you slipped away. Further and further into the back of your mind.

He kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world, like he wanted to be kissing you, and your brain was getting more mushy as the contact continued. Your hands twitched again, and this time, you actually moved, leaning slightly into the kiss—one of them hesitantly lifting to rest against the front of his shirt.

Sirius, sensing the change immediately, grinned, chin still propped on your shoulder.

“That’s it, sweetheart.”

James hummed in agreement, eyes dark with interest. “Looks like she’s a fast learner.”

Remus, still entirely too composed, simply smiled into the kiss, his hands finally moving to cradle your jaw, holding you there as he deepened it just slightly.

By the time he pulled back, you were breathless, cheeks flushed—lips wet and reddened.

James, evidently unable to contain himself, turned your chin slightly toward him, eyes practically shining with mischief.

“My turn.”

His lips were on yours, and if Remus was patient and careful, James was the opposite.

Kissing you like he was playing—feverish and teasing, like he knew exactly how new it was for you, how you were still unsure, and he was more than content in exploring.

Initially he let you take the lead, barely pressing into you, lips moving slowly, teasingly, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your jaw as if coaxing you forward. But as he leaned further into you, hands planting themselves firmly on your thighs—parting his lips against yours.

You were vaguely aware of the sound of Sirius humming in approval somewhere behind you, his fingers tightening just slightly on your waist as James’ tongue flicked playfully against your bottom lip. Your breath caught in your throat, and he grinned against your mouth, clearly pleased with your reaction.

James littered more kisses onto your skin, starting at the corner of your mouth, down your jaw, bringing the exposed skin of your collarbone gently between his lips—nipping and sucking softly. Earning him a breathy whimper, exhaling “Jamie,” as you craned your neck into him more, hands jumping to find purchase on his arms.

Remus’ hand inched up James’ spine, almost as a reminder that said, don’t be greedy. Withdrawing, he allowed the other a better look at your expression—half lidded, satified hums leaving your still kiss-flushed lips, unbareably pretty.

Sirius let out a low, appreciative whistle behind you, a low “Damn,” passing into the air, breath skimming over the back of your neck.

“Ready for round two?”

You hadn’t had time to come back down into the room fully before Sirius’ hands came down to your hips—the words barely proccessing in your mind as you spun on his lap. Positioning you so your legs split across his thighs. His hands settled on your waist, warm and steady, fingers splayed just under the hem of your shirt, grounding you.

Sirius was still watching you, that signature smirk playing at his lips, but there was something softer in his expression now—something reassuring, like he was making sure you weren’t too overwhelmed.

But how could you not be?

You could still feel the lingering warmth of Remus’ kiss on your lips, still taste James’ breath against yours. And now planted on Sirius’ lap, he was moving closer, eyes flicking over your face, searching for hesitation.

You didn’t even realize you’d clenched your hands into nervous fists until Sirius made a small noise of amusement and pried one open, lacing his fingers through yours. “Breath, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. “You’re in good hands.”

Unlike Remus’ patience or James’ teasing, Sirius kissed you like he was yearning.

its like a torch had been lit, your body was set even further ablaze when Sirius pressed his lips firmly against yours, immediately tightening his hold on your waist. Pads of his fingers grasping almost desperately onto the flesh trying to pull you closer than you already were—shifting his hips upwards into you. Your voice trembled in your throat, failing to make it to your lips as muffled moan threatened to leave you. Hands coming up to his neck, fingers threading and tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.

“Fucking hell, you two,” sounded from beside you, but it felt so far away, dulled by the thumping echo of your pulse in your ears and the soft hums and mewls leaving the both of you.

He kissed like he meant it, like he wanted you to feel all of it, tongue just barely teasing against the seam of your lips, making you gasp out a whine. He took full advantage of the sound, his hands squeezing at your curve of your hips before he pulled back just enough to grin against your mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

The words sent a sharp jolt of heat down your spine, it had you arching into him against you will, rocking involuntarily into him, and Sirius let out a delighted little laugh. Head falling into the crook of his neck, slightly embarrassed by the reactions he so easily compelled from you.

“Ohh, Pads,” James drawled, chin resting on his shoulder, breath warm against his ear. “You’re gonna break her.”

Sirius hummed, utterly unbothered. “Dunno, Jamie—” his lips ghosted against your neck again, just barely touching, a tease, “—she seems to be holding up just fine.”

You weren’t.

Your thoughts were scrambled, body thrumming, your hands clutching onto Sirius as if he were the only thing tethering you to the earth.

And when you brought your head out of its hiding spot, Remus’ could barely contain the laugh that bubbled in his chest, musing with a tilting his head. “Mmm, think she likes it.” Your parted lips, chest heaving trying to catch your breath—pupils blown and hazy expression Remus was more than convinced you liked it.

Sirius, still curled up comfortably beneath you, pressed a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone. “Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice was teasing, syrupy sweet, lips dragging up to your jaw, inching up to the corners of your mouth—almost kisses—then trailing back away. And you could only melt into them, breathless and dizzy and completely, utterly lost in it all.

“Should we stop, or do you wanna keep learning?”

this is my first time writing poly! so pls be kind x

part 2 - hands-on lesson!

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wcnderlnds · 5 months ago

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carried away | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: getting to film a movie with seunghyun is all fine until you have to film a kissing scene ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: n/a ・❥・ authors note: saw a video of tazza behind the scenes and was inspired 👀

Choi Seung-hyun was one of the most interesting people you had ever met. Not only was he a complete sweetheart but he was one heck of a talented actor. He could switch between himself and the character he was playing almost seamlessly. Not many actors had that kind of talent — some opting to stay in character through the whole shoot to not lose focus but not Seunghyun. When he was in character, he was locked in and when he was out of it, he was the fun, sweet guy that you had come to know over the last couple of months. It amazed you every single day.

When you’d first got the job to star alongside him, the nerves you’d felt were probably the worst you’d ever experienced. He was an icon, part of one of the biggest bands in the world. It was daunting knowing you were going to have to be face to face with one of K-Pops biggest idols. Turns out there had been no reason to worry whatsoever because he was the nicest person you’d ever met. The very first day you’d met on set he’d introduced himself politely, made sure you were comfortable and did everything he could to make it easy for you. It wasn’t your first job. You were pretty well known in the industry but every set was different. All the different actors and crew; sometimes you didn’t know what to expect. So far, this had been your favourite movie to work on. Did most of that have to do with Seunghyun? Absolutely.

Today was the day you had been dreading the most, though. Intimate scenes were always daunting to film but now you had to film one with Seunghyun. Oh, you were so screwed. Over the last few weeks, you had developed a little crush on your co-star. Not a word had been uttered to him but you were fairly sure you weren’t hiding it very well. The giggles at his every joke, the way you’d hang on to his every word, find any reason to be close to him — it was like you were a kid again with your very first crush and didn’t know how to act.

“You ready for this?” Seunghyun asked as the two of you stood waiting for the director to start the scene. He stood there, tie loose around his neck, his white shirt unbuttoned slightly showing off some of his chest. If you weren’t so nervous, you’d definitely be staring right now.

“Yeah,” you nodded, hands flexing at your sides. “I'm a little nervous but I’m ready.”

“I’ve got you, okay? You want to stop at any time just tell me and we will. We don’t even have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it. I’m sure we can think of a way around it,” he reached out to give your arm a reassuring squeeze. Even just a simple touch like that made your heart beat ten times faster so what the hell was going to happen to you the moment his lips met yours?

“It’s okay, I promise. I’m glad it’s with you. I trust you.” A genuine smile adorned your face making Seunghyun smile, too. Was he blushing as well? Surely you were imagining that.

It wasn’t too long after when the director yelled action and it was all hands on deck. Before you could even prepare yourself (which you’d had plenty of time to do if you hadn’t been so nervous), Seunghyun’s hand was on the back of your head and his lips crashed against yours. The second his soft lips began to move, your head turned fuzzy. Your hands fisted in the shirt he was wearing as he backed you up onto the bed. As you laid back, he settled on top of you, his tongue tangling with yours. You knew you were supposed to be acting, that this was your character and not you but it didn’t stop you from getting lost in the way his lips fit so perfectly against yours. Or the way his body slotted between yours like a puzzle piece.

It wasn’t until Seunghyun pulled away — breathless and with red tinted cheeks — that you realised the director had shouted ‘cut’ over five minutes ago. You could feel the flush of your cheeks as the embarrassment coursed through you. Without a single word, you ran off the set to hide in your dressing room. If that wasn’t the most mortifying moment of your life, you didn’t know what was. How could you have gotten so lost that you didn’t realise the scene had ended? How unprofessional.

It was five minutes later when you heard a knock on your door. You barely mumbled a “it’s open” when the handle turned and in walked Seunghyun. You had your head in your hands but as you heard him clear his throat, you looked up. There he stood looking as gorgeous as ever.

“Can I…?” He gestured to the spot next to you on the couch. You nodded your head, resting your hands in your lap. He sat beside you, twisting his body slightly so he could look at you. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m embarrassed and mortified and really wish the ground would swallow me up right now.” The urge to hide your face again was strong but you fought against it. You had to be an adult and own up to what had happened. “I’m so sorry, Seunghyun. That was so unprofessional of me. I…I’m really sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, don’t apologise. I could have stopped it sooner but… uh, I didn’t want to.”

Did you hear him correctly? He didn’t want to stop kissing you?

“…what?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he let out a low chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. “I like you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make a move without it being weird for a couple weeks now but nothing seemed right. But then when I kissed you and you didn’t seem to stop, I couldn’t help myself. If anything it was unprofessional of me.”

“Just a couple of unprofessionals then, huh?” You joked, gently nudging him with your elbow. “I like you too, by the way.”

“I know, you’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Shutup.”

He laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you into his side. “Want to get dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you smiled up at him, his eyes catching yours. It was so easy to get lost in him. Everything about him was so perfect.

“For the time being, we have a lot of kissing to do because apparently we were too intense for the scene or something,” Seunghyun jokingly rolled his eyes, holding his hand out for you as he got to his feet. “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

If work meant you got to keep kissing the handsome man standing in front of you then you were more than happy to get back on set.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten

#choi seunghyun x reader #t.o.p x reader #top x reader #choi seunghyun #bigbang x reader #my fics

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inkedinshadows · 5 months ago

Note

Helloooo hope you’re doing well 💝💗

I was wondering if you can write for azriel ( from the prompt list) 2 and 4? I think it would be such a cute idea, and you would write it so well (love u)

thanks for ur time!! 💝💝

Life's Bright Side

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

A/N: I love u too anon, I'm doing well and I hope you are too 🫶🏻 I had so much fun writing this one and it didn't even take me that long bc one thing about me is that I'm a sucker for slice of life 🤭

Prompts: "Baby, I love you, but please go to bed."* + "You're always so cheerful... it's kind of adorable."

Warnings: none, just fluff

Word count: 1.1k

*had to change it to "go to sleep", hope you don't mind <3

Azriel had never understood how you did it.

Your day had been a long one. He hated the Court of Nightmares, but more than that, he loathed seeing you in such a place. His bubbly, chirpy mate didn't belong among those cruel, scheming people.

Yet you never let the occasional visits bother you. While he returned from the Hewn City brooding and in a foul mood, you were the opposite.

He watched as you danced through the room, the dim light catching on the sparkly black dress you were still wearing. You were softly humming a melody to yourself, a simple tune you had picked up yesterday while strolling along the Sidra with him.

A small smile tugged at Azriel’s lips. Even without trying, you always managed to lift his spirits. His shadows were already swaying in time with your song.

He remained silent as he undressed, listening as your humming turned into quiet singing—whispered words he couldn't quite make out, but he was fairly sure you were making them up as you went.

When he looked back up after pulling on his sleeping clothes, your dress had been exchanged for a nightgown and you were perched at the vanity table to remove your makeup. One leg crossed over the other, your foot bounced in time with your tune.

“How do you do that?” he asked, unable to stop himself.

Your eyes met his in the mirror, a small smile forming as you wiped the cotton pad over one eye. “Do what?”

Azriel shrugged, stepping up behind you just as you stood. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“You’re always so cheerful,” he murmured, meeting your gaze in the mirror again. His lips quirked. “It’s kind of adorable.”

You chuckled before turning in his arms. “Life's too short to be grumpy and pessimistic.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you added, “You should try it sometimes, my love.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He leaned down to stop your teasing with another kiss, but you slipped out of his grasp and padded toward the bathroom.

“Baby, you're immortal,” he pointed out, following you to lean against the doorframe while you washed your face. “How is life too short?”

“Well, it's not,” you conceded, turning off the faucet. Azriel waited patiently as you dried your face before you continued. “But maybe tomorrow a vase will fall from a balcony while I'm walking underneath it, hit me in the head, and kill me instantly.”

Azriel raised a brow.

“What?” you said with a smile. “You never know. Just because it's unlikely doesn't mean it's impossible.”

He shook his head, but he couldn't stop the slow smile forming on his face. “I'm beginning to think you're crazy. Not cheerful, just straight-up crazy.”

“And it took you this long to figure that out?” You grinned, patting his arm as you tried to slip past him.

Tried, because Azriel caught you before you could, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against him. A sound that was both a laugh and a yelp escaped you as he lifted you without warning.

“Listen,” you tried to defend yourself, though it was hard to speak between fits of laughter. “All I'm saying is that everything has a bright side. We just have to look for it.”

Azriel carried you to the bed, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. Gently, he lowered you onto the mattress and leaned over you.

“Oh yeah?” he mused. “So what's the bright side of a vase falling on your head?”

You shoot him an incredulous look. “It made you laugh,” you said simply. “You picked me up and carried me to bed. And now you're on top of me. It’s my favorite position, I'll remind you.”

Azriel’s low chuckle skittered along your skin. “This is not your favorite position, my love.”

You grinned. “You know me so well.”

With a shake of his head, he shifted off you and lay beside you, pulling the blankets over you both as you reached to turn off the lights.

In the dark, you nestled close to him. Your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you, and you reached down to intertwine your fingers with his. Your thumb traced slow, idle circles over the back of his hand.

“Did it work though?” you whispered into the quiet. “Did I get your mind off the Hewn City?”

Azriel breathed in the delicate scent of your shampoo as he brushed a kiss to your shoulder. “You did. Thank you, my love.”

“I could always give you something else to think about if you need it,” you suggested.

He didn't, actually. But something in your tone—the slight note of amusement, perhaps—made him question what you were up to.

“Is it going to be another one of your ridiculous questions?”

He could picture your smile as you replied, “Maybe. Do you want to hear it?”

Azriel took a deep breath, knowing he would regret it but still curious to find out what you'd come up with this time. “Let's hear it.”

You didn't answer right away. He felt you squirm slightly in his arms and realized you were trying to stifle your giggles. When you finally settled enough to speak, your voice was so pensive that Azriel braced himself.

“If you wake up tomorrow,” you began, “and find out I've been turned into a giant spider, what would you do?”

Azriel sighed. This was his fault, after all. He had encouraged you.

“That's even worse than the last one,” he muttered.

“You said I would make a lovely worm.” You hummed. “But what about a huge spider? Or wait, even better, a Middengard Wyrm?”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer. “Baby, I love you, but please go to sleep,” he murmured, though his lips betrayed him with a faint smile.

Your soft laugh echoed in the silence. “Alright, alright,” you conceded. Azriel thought that was it, until you added, “The question is trickier and you need to think about it. I get it. You can tell me the answer in the morning.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but his smile was now impossible to hide. You felt it against your skin as he kissed the nape of your neck.

If entertaining your nonsense questions before falling asleep was the price he had to pay to be with you, then he'd gladly endure them again and again just to spend another night by your side.

It was just like you'd said. Everything had a bright side if only he looked for it.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel fic #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #fanfiction #fluff #one shot #requested

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binmeister · 6 days ago

Note

Really enjoy the Male!Bodyguard for Huntrix! It'll be cool if you did drabbles/one shots of them

Like a scenario where there's a YouTube vudeo of Huntrix simping for their Male!Bodyguard

Or them doing the popcorn eyes whenever Male!Bodyguard untintentionally flexes his muscles

2 minutes of Huntr/x simping for Bodyguard!Reader

Huntr/x x Bodyguard!Reader

Really happy to hear that people liked the lil word vomit for this prompt - it’s pretty fun and I like what you’re cooking anon

More rambles here - kinda scenarios kinda just spitting but I hope you guys enjoy anyway :D

CW: Masc! Pronouns used , not proofread as always

2 Minutes of Huntr/x simping for [Name]

Various clips played from fan signing events where the girls stared at you with wide eyes and what the fans deemed as dreamy looks. Fairly innocent, nothing out of the ordinary in your interactions.

Another clip played for roughly 20 seconds where you were seen arms crossed off to the side at a concert venue talking to other staff and a fan had caught the way the girls kept stealing glances in your direction, Zoey giggling when you caught her eye and flashed a friendly smile at her.

There was a clip from a late night live stream where you had walked in, voice raspy like you’d just woken up and the girls had looked up at you guiltily as you reminded them that they should seriously get some sleep so they can sort out their events the next day. Though as soon as you left it was Rumi fighting for her life as she muffled a yell into a couch cushion, Zoey visibly shaking in joy and Mira had taken out her feelings on an unsuspecting ottoman as she beat it up to get her energy out.

4 Minutes of [Name] being handsome

It was just a series of clips from fans who were waiting outside and noticed you standing guard, you were leaning against the first layer of barricades - a second one keeping the crowd of fans a meter or so away from you - and you were chatting with the other security staff. Your uniform during summer was one of the fans’ personal favourites - well fitting dark slacks and a simple black polo with sleeves that hugged your biceps nicely.

One of the other staff had said something that made you laugh and it could barely be picked up by the fans’ phone, but it was enough that the comments were flooded gushing over your chuckle and how nice your smile was. Also was your jawline really that sharp?

The fan that was nearly trampled (see original post) had a clip in there as well, right after you’d picked her up and taken her over the barricade and handed her a bottle of water to make sure she was doing okay. You’d crouched slightly so she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at you and you were mindful to talk softly to her to ask how she was doing, did she need you to call an ambulance? Need anything else? Need a chair? “THAT SHOULD’VE BEEN MEEEEEE” - was commented a few hundred times on that time stamped clip.

A clip hidden in there was an older one, during one of Huntr/x’s summer comebacks and you and your fellow staff members were definitely feeling the heat in your black uniforms. There was sweat beads forming on your forehead but you were diligent in handing out water bottles to the fans, checking in with each one you handed a bottle - are you holding up okay? Too hot? Do you need more water?

1 Minute 20 Seconds of Mira and Zoey staring at [Name]

There were a suspicious amount of clips in this short video of Mira and Zoey openly staring at you whenever you weren’t looking - they didn’t tell you this video existed and refused to let you search up your name on YouTube in fear of you finding all the thirst traps. They had some rationality to protect you from the fans! It was definitely not because they didn’t want you to know how often they were staring at you during work.

There’s a clip where you were dressed up in more formal wear - white button up shirt with your sleeves rolled up just below your elbows and a loosened black tie hanging around your neck and some nice black dress pants that accentuated just the right features. You were off to the side of some fancy ball room trying to be mindful of any prying cameras, eyes on alert as you scanned the area to make sure nothing weird was going on and another staff member beside you was idly chattering to you. The camera pans over to where Mira and Zoey were peeking around a pillar trying to catch a look at you since they hadn’t seen you in something formal in forever and it was obvious that they were giddy at seeing it.

Rumi & [Name] confirmed???

It was a few shorter clips this time, capturing a couple of moments from another fan signing event and Rumi had called you over to help her with something and her expression was a little lost. You’d leant down so she could speak in your ear and when you responded to whatever she had asked, she no longer looked lost and pouty but was smiling and laughing a little to whatever you had said.

The next clip was when Rumi had placed a gifted accessory on her head but it just wouldn’t sit right so as she was talking to the next fan that sat down, you’d stepped up behind her and gently fixed the head piece, a thin plastic tiara that had some fake flowers glued with some strips of ribbon attached onto the edge so it sat snugly on her hair and even fixed up a few stray hairs that had escaped her braid. She didn’t pull away from your touch and the trust you two shared really showed in this one.

The last clip was at a different signing event but a similar thing with the gifts, Rumi was trying desperately to put on one of the silly gifts a fan had given her and you had taken it off her head - she had huffed and pouted up at you as you walked away with it and safely tucked it away into the gift pile at the back of the stage behind some curtains. Then you returned with a different head piece - a little bunny hood with wiggling ears that fit on her head a lot better than the last piece did. You’d slipped the dangling ‘paws’ over her shoulder and she happily started pressing the hidden button in the paws to make her bunny ears flick up and down as she looked around the room.

Bonus

You’d lived with the girls most of your life, Rumi all of your life but for most of it they saw you as this scrawny guy they could pick on for most of your life. Until puberty hit and your training regime took a heavy nose-dive into way too much and way too soon. You didn’t fault your mother over it though, knowing that she did mean well when she pushed you a little harder and you preferred she critique you more than Rumi afterall. You could handle it.

All that training has lead to your routine now; finishing up your daily work and co-ordinating security with Bobby for any last minute scheduling before you’d started making dinner for the girls. After dinner was usually a quick shower but today you felt a little energised - surely a cheeky work out wouldn’t be too bad?

Which is why you were here in your room, skin sheening with a thin layer of sweat and shirt long lost to your bed as you had tossed it off mid-way through your workout. Your breaths were a little ragged and you thanked Bobby mentally for the fact he made sure the security uniform 1. comfortable and 2. relatively flexible because you’d be damned trying to do squats in stiff slacks.

There was a brisk knock at your door and you didn’t think twice about straightening up and calling out a ‘one second’ as you grabbed your water bottle and took a hefty swig from it. A few stray droplets had leaked out the corner of your mouth but you paid no mind to it as you walked over and swung your bedroom door open, a little surprised to see all three of the girls standing in the hallway. Rumi froze as she stared blankly at you, jaw agape and Mira openly gawked at your exposed torso.

Zoey almost squealed as she as she saw the droplets of water that had missed your mouth were leaking down your chin and down onto your chest. You were confused on what was going on, not noticing the way it looked like Zoey’s eyes had turned to corn and was actively spitting out popcorn that Mira stuffed into her face but you greeted them casually - instinctively raising up an arm to lean on the door frame.

“Did you guys need something?” You asked out and your voice had a slight rasp to it and your chest heaved a little as you were trying to calm yourself down from the exercise. Rumi seemed star struck as she opened and closed her mouth, ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’ coming out but no coherent sentences as she looked over at the other girls hoping for a life line. She wasn’t getting one. Zoey and Mira had clung onto each other and were both doing their best not to lose their mind as they continued to stare at your exposed skin, Zoey had tried to bite her lip to suppress another squeal at the way your bicep had flexed when you shifted your arm up.

“Dinner.. DINNER! Yeah uh we wanted to eat you. WITH YOU. Eat with you.” Rumi managed to get out and you quirked a smile, a small curt nod accompanied, then watching as she smacked her forehead and seemed to shrivel up in shame as the other two just nodded aggressively in agreement with whatever she said. The trio giggled and walked away when you agreed to dinner, all getting a little aggressive as they smacked at each other like ‘DID YOU SEE.. you saw right.’

Suddenly the three were a lot more inclined to join you when you were going to work out now.

#kpop demon hunters x reader #huntrix x reader #rumi x reader #mira x reader #zoey x reader #kpdh x you #kpdh x reader

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msnihilist · 1 year ago

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#hey op he WHAT

Did I fucking stutter??

btw, Nicktoons Unite nation, Timmy has heat vision. He wished for it in a season one episode and then an episode in a later season confirmed he still has it. Just putting that out there because I think it would be really funny for him to use it in front of the others with no warning.

#fairly oddparents #timmy turner #btw i'm not actually mad haha #i'm actually stoked that someone gave me the excuse to post these gifs lol #i am a very simple fan: if a character is drawn with red eyes i will remember it #other fun facts about timmy:#he hates the banjo (who doesn't?)#he wears a pink hat because his parents were expecting a girl #he keeps a lot of his old wishes on hand such as his shrink-suit and time traveling scooter #in universe he is the ''mysterious ka-jillion-aire'' who hosts septemberfest every year #he likes to get his hair and nails done #also for fic writers: cosmo and wanda can exploit loopholes #i.e. timmy doesn't have to explicitly WISH for something #he can just snap his fingers or say something like ''make it so'' and wanda and cosmo will make ''it'' happen #i.e. the episode where wanda turns him into a girl because timmy says ''haha yeah right! like i'd wish i was a girl!''#he says ''i didn't wish for this!'' and wanda smugly tells him ''you said 'i wish' and 'girl'''#however if timmy isn't specific then wanda and cosmo will grant his wish to whatever extent they interpret ''it'' to be #also timmy's fairies can be discovered and not taken away as long as jorgen doesn't find out that someone knows his secret #wishes linger unless unwished. there is no time limit on them #i.e. timmy has an escape pod to texas in his room that was wished for at some point off screen long before it was used #follow me for more fop lore and brainrot lmao

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xoxochb · 2 months ago

Text

“okay, first is— percy.”

“I’m listening. watching. actively participating in this fashion show, go on.”

you huff. “so rate this first dress. and give me your honest opinion, don’t just say it looks good because I’m wearing it.”

percy scans his green eyes over the first article of clothing from your shopping spree. it’s a simple dress, strapless and white littered with tiny pink flowers, ruffling to flow around your ankles.

“I’d like it a hell of a lot more on the floor.”

your expression is unamused. you rest your hands on your hips. “the dress, perseus. not me in the dress.”

he slides to the edge of the bed, pulling you into him by your waist. “I think it’s nice, sweet girl. very ruffl-y, it’s fun to play with.” his hand begins to toy with the said ruffles.

“rate it out of ten.” you peck his forehead quickly.

“a ten. for the ruffles.”

“great! thank you for your feedback. next dress now.”

you walk back to your dresser and strip of the one you currently wear and slip on the next. this one is multicolored, thin straps and similar ruffles on the skirt like before.

you turn back to a smiling percy. “opinions?”

“very colorful. like a crayon box.”

you furrow your brows. “what…?”

“in a good way!” percy stands and walks over to you, backing you against the dresser. “this one’s my favorite.”

“rate it.”

“five out of ten.”

“five? that’s it?”

he shakes his head, fingers looping around the straps. “I like when there’s none of these. easier access.”

“percy.”

he smirks and kisses you quickly. “next one.”

you push him off of you and discard of the second dress, putting on the next outfit— which is a separate shirt and fairly long skirt.

the shirt had been a maybe to buy because at first glance you thought it to be too low cut. then again, it was cute so it had to have been worth it. the skirt was white and nothing else, but nonetheless stylish and worth the money for its comfort.

“rate.” you turn back around again.

“I lied.” percy’s eyes fall obviously to your cleavage. “this one is my favorite.”

“pervert. tell the truth.”

you hold your hands over the exposed skin in hopes he’ll fess up.

“I’m not lying! this one looks great.” he puts his hands on your waist where your shirt rides upwards. “they all look great. very stylish. you should go into the fashion industry, sweet girl.”

“and your favorite?”

“uhmmm…” he taps his fingers against your skin. “the first one. the white one.”

“really? why?”

percy throws his hands up dramatically. “can I not just like things because I like them?”

“no. tell me what you liked about it.”

“it has ruffles? and it was white?”

“what the hell does the color have to do with anything?”

“it’s just your color.”

you roll your eyes. “you say every color is ‘my color’.”

“because you look good in ever color.”

you run your fingers lightly over your face. you should’ve known better than asking your boyfriend of all people for opinions. he’d say anything looked good.

“this is the last time I’m putting on clothes for you to judge. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

first dress -> second dress -> third dress

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #riordanverse x reader #riordanverse #riordan universe

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omw2you · 3 months ago

Text

not just friends

wc: 5604

you wanted to kill.

either him, or her. or both, as a matter of fact. that option would suffice the most.

continuing to angrily poke at your bowl of food, you stared at newt and a girl from one of the other mazes. you're pretty sure hers was all girls. you don't care, but it would explain her behaviour after freshly seeing a fairly attractive guy for the first time in who knows how long.

they sat at the table directly in front of yours, her legs straddling the cafeteria bench as she faced newt; her elbow on the table holding her head up while her other hand played with newt's white long sleeve, round eyes innocently staring up at him. she was saying something to him—some flirty, nonsensical bullshit, you suppose.

newt smiles down at her, laughing now and then at something she whispers in his ear. he goads her actions.

screw him, and screw every single boy in the entire world. so easy, so simple to attract and tempt. the two of them might as well just take each other on the table in front of everyone at this point, if they're going to be this shameless and obvious from a first encounter.

"if you're gonna keep abusing your food, you might as well give it to me," a deep voice says from behind you, the person coming to sit down to your right.

"yeah, just take it, minho. i'm not hungry anymore."

you slide your bowl to him, which he gladly takes and begins to eat out of. you look at him and he nods towards newt.

"is that why? 'cause i understand it's not fun watching your man get seduced by a totally hot girl. but don't worry, y/n, you're much hotter than her," he says almost unintelligibly while chewing.

you hit his arm playfully, mumbling, "he's not my man, and he can do whatever he wants with any girl. what is it to me?"

he laughs. "yeah, keep telling yourself that. because if you're going to lie, at least don't stare at them like you want to take both their heads off."

you roll your eyes at minho and sigh, turning your head and focusing back on newt and the girl.

"i don't want to be here anymore. i'm genuinely gonna be sick if i keep watching this shit. get a room, for god's sake."

you maneuver your legs over the bench and sit up.

"enjoy the food, shank. i'll see you later," you tell minho.

"thanks, and you enjoy living in denial!" he shouts after you as you walk back to your dorm in the girls section. it was weird being away from the boys you've been sleeping next to for the past two years, but you managed to brush off your anxieties after the first three nights.

as you're walking down the lonely hallway, your arm is suddenly grabbed and your whole body is pulled back into an empty room on the side. you gasp and spin around to identify the person who grabbed you, raising your hand to initiate an attack. very quickly, however, that hand is lowered once newt shuts the door and turns around to face you.

"woah, sweetheart, you gonna hurt me, yeah?" he laughs, walking closer to you.

"a natural reaction when you're kidnapped, don't you think?" you reply as you take deep breaths, adrenaline still rushing from the prior shock. he smirks as he stops a few steps away from you.

"actually, i don't reckon kidnapping counts when someone just wants to see their friend. you left dinner early, too, so i couldn't see you."

you scoff, ignoring and walking past him towards the door. newt doesn't like this though. if he wanted you to leave, he wouldn't have grabbed you in the first place.

"hey hey hey, what's the matter?" he pushes the door shut again from behind you before you can fully open it to escape. turning back around to face him, you realize he's much closer than before, and it causes your body to tense. you move away until your back hits the door, and newt stares at you with a worried and confused look.

"why are you trying to leave, love? i'd imagined you'd be glad to catch up since it's been a bit hectic the past few days," he says concerningly, bringing his hand up to move a strand of your hair off your face.

this is when your panic sets in. why are you upset? why are you so bothered by what he does with other girls? you and newt have only been friends since you came up on the box as one of the first girls in the glade. sure, the two of you are the closest out of the rest, but you have never crossed the boundary of friendship. never.

and though sometimes—especially late at night when your body doesn’t quite feel like your own, or when he rests his hands from behind you low on your hips like an anchor while you’re standing in a group, claiming it’s just so you don’t get lost in the crowd—you feel something pull at you. but you never let it show. because wanting more would mean risking everything, and friendship is the only thing you’re sure he’s offering.

but you’re only human. you can only restrain yourself for so long before the bitterness starts to seep in.

you cross your arms and avoid eye contact, muttering, “well, unfortunately, you looked a bit preoccupied during dinner—so i doubt catching up was the only thing on your mind.”

instantly, regret encompasses your entire being. you should know better than to show him how upset he's got you from one conversation with a random girl. heat rushes up your neck and your eyes find his again, and you wish they didn't.

he doesn't have concern written on his face anymore.

he’s smirking now—slow, amused, like he’s savouring the way your jealousy just slipped out. like he’s known all along and was just waiting for you to crack.

and god, that look on his face only makes your uneasiness worse.

"oh, so you noticed then?" he inches a bit closer, eyes surveying every part of your face. "guess it was more obvious than i'd wanted, but she's bloody gorgeous, isn't she?"

you force yourself to keep all the composure you have left. just endure this small talk with him, and then leave and go to bed in one piece.

"mhm. very pretty. and very interested in you as well. maybe you should do something about it, considering we don't know how much time we truly have left in this shithole," you respond, voice optimistic and laced with a hint of sarcasm. you hold his eyes, unwilling to reveal your sourness again.

he smiles, clearly pleased with your obviously disingenuous response. he places his hands on their familiar spot on your hips.

"there's just a tiny problem," he mentions. "do you know what?"

you swallow. "what?"

he moves in even closer, your bodies less than an inch from each other. looking down at you, he quietly gives his response.

"i can't exactly picture myself doing certain stuff to her. and you know very well how i am—my mind has to make sense of something before i do it... and it just doesn't, not with her."

you should be relieved at his confession. but your body tenses up even more for some reason; the space in the room becomes strangely smaller.

you should nod and tell him you have to go to sleep. tell him that you're tired and that you'll see him tomorrow morning. maybe even console him and remind him that there are many other girls here. but your mind is fuzzy and your body is much more affected by your proximity, even though it should be routine by now.

so you ask—innocently and curiously so, with a tilt of your head.

"what kinds of stuff? really, i can't imagine it'd be as difficult as you say—" you're cut off by his right hand grabbing the side of your neck, thumb on your cheek, gently turning it so he can lean in and speak into your ear.

"a lot of the naughty stuff i dream of doing to you."

you're beyond dumbstruck, breath hitching and heart hammering in your chest so hard you're embarrassed he'll hear. your arms drop from your chest straight down, hands resting on the door behind you by your waist.

his thumb grazes your jaw, moving your head back so you can face him. his dark eyes hold yours as he closes the gap between your bodies, his hips flush against yours.

"stop fucking with me, newt," you whisper.

but your voice betrays you—too breathless, too soft to sound truly angry.

his eyes don’t waver. if anything, they darken. he tilts his head just slightly, as if he’s studying you, cataloguing every flicker of resistance and want etched across your face.

“i’m not,” he murmurs. “not tonight.”

his hand slightly moves down from your jaw to the side of your throat, resting there—not threatening, just grounding, like he’s making sure you don’t disappear. like he’s giving you one last chance to pull away.

"it's funny, really. you can easily notice when another girl is flirting with me, but you can't notice when i'm flirting with you. and i've been flirting, trust me, sweetheart," he chuckles, his chest reverberating the deep sound as the hand on your throat drops back down to your hip. "two years of it, i'd like to mention," he mumbles in that smooth accent of his.

your self control is running unbelievably thin, but one thing you'll always do is hold a grudge—remember.

remember the girl's hands on him.

her seductive and very telling gaze.

and worst of all, newt's grin as he encouraged her affections, indulged in them. he savoured it. and you weren't gonna let your best friend of all people play you like a fool.

so you lift your chin, biting back the lump in your throat and every word you’ve swallowed for the past two years. your voice comes out low, laced with something bitter.

“go back to her then.”

his brows knit, just slightly. “pardon?”

you meet his eyes head-on this time, ignoring the heat still pulsing in your chest.

“she clearly wants you,” you continue, tone cutting and cool. “you should take her up on it. might be easier for both of us.”

he blinks like you’ve slapped him, even though his body doesn’t move—still pressed against yours, still blocking every inch of your exit.

“easier?” he echoes, confused—and something else too, something sharper.

you shrug. “yeah. i mean, you were already halfway there at dinner. you’re good at letting girls fawn over you. might as well make the most of it.”

he exhales through his nose—half a laugh, half something exasperated. he shifts just slightly, and even that minimal movement sends your nerves sparking.

“you think that’s what that was?” he asks, his voice lower now, almost disbelieving. “me letting someone fawn over me?”

“i don’t know, newt,” you say tightly. “i just call it like i see it.”

his jaw flexes. for a moment, he doesn’t speak—and then, quieter:

“i flirted back,” he says, “because you were watching.”

you freeze.

his eyes are on yours now, unblinking. the hands on your hips tighten just slightly.

“you looked at me like you wanted to rip her head off. i’d never seen you like that before. and as twisted as it is, yeah—it made me want to push it further. just to see how far you'd let it go before you snapped.”

your breathing is shallow, but you say nothing. because he’s right. and he knows it.

“i’ve been waiting for you to crack,” he murmurs. “two years of pretending this is just friendship. of pretending that touching you like this doesn't mean anything. but it always means something.”

his chest rises and falls against yours. there’s no space left between you—not physically, not emotionally.

“and tonight? when you finally cracked? when you stormed out like that? it just confirmed it.”

his thumb brushes against your waist now, barely there.

“you feel it too. don’t lie to me.”

you don’t lie.

you just move—slow, cautious, but deliberate. your hands cover his where they grip your hips, grounding yourself before your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt like you need something to hang onto.

your hips shift—just the smallest movement—but enough. enough to press up into him, enough to say what you refuse to say out loud.

he lets out a guttural, “fuck,” and his forehead drops to yours, eyes closed, jaw tight, like it’s taking everything in him not to move.

your hands trail up, brushing along his arms before finding his neck. you don’t even realize how tightly you’re holding on until your knuckles ache.

you don’t speak right away. can’t. your throat is dry, heart lodged somewhere between your ribs and your mouth.

he waits, barely breathing, and somehow that silence is louder than anything he could’ve said.

“newt…” you murmur, and it comes out broken. not pleading. not sweet. just raw. stripped down.

he doesn’t answer—just swallows, hard.

you close your eyes, like that might make it easier. it doesn’t. “you drive me insane.”

you feel him twitch against you at the confession.

“but i do,” you breathe. “i want you.”

and that’s all it takes for the restraint between you to snap clean in half.

he opens his eyes a little, hooded and filled with lust as they meet yours. his mouth moves painfully close to yours, noses touching one another.

"yeah, love? wanna show me how much?" his lips ghostly touching yours as he speaks.

you let out a soft whimper before nodding and finally connecting your lips to his. he lets out a low noise of approval, pushing you further into the wall as he deepens the kiss. his tongue enters your mouth, slow at first—like he’s savouring every second he’s finally allowed to taste you. you respond instinctively, tilting your head and parting your lips wider, letting him take more.

his body presses harder into yours as the kiss intensifies—hot and breathless, messy in a way that speaks to everything you've both held back. he kisses you like he's starving. like he’s waited years to have you like this. and maybe he has.

he pulls back the tiniest amount to let you both breathe, chests heaving as a line of spit connects your mouths. his eyes flit between both of yours.

"i've wanted to do that for the longest bloody time," he murmurs.

you gulp, staring at his slightly swollen lips. "me, too."

his hands move up and down your sides, trying to memorize all the parts of your body he restrained himself from touching during your friendship.

"newt?" you say as he dips his head to softly kiss at your neck, lips slowly taking their time to mark every visible part of your skin.

"yes, sweetheart?" he mumbles against your throat.

your hands slide into his messy hair, gently tugging them. this earns a groan from the boy, and you note this reaction in the back of your mind for later.

your breath quickens. your body is going insane at the feeling of his lips as they move from one side of your neck to the other, kissing the front of your throat in the process. you need friction, you need to feel something—need to feel him more. your eyes shut.

"please touch me, i need—" you grip his hair a little tighter, causing his hips to push back down on yours with a grunt, "—oh my god, like that, i need to feel you more like that. please," you practically beg.

newt pauses his assault on your neck, mouth still lightly touching your skin as he brings it up to press into your ear.

"feel me more?" he mumbles, yet his voice is clearer than ever directly next to your ear. one of his hands drop to your inner thigh, slightly opening your legs more. "you want to feel my dick grinding on you again, yeah?"

you're speechless. he's reduced you to just whines and gasps, and he hasn't even done half the things he wants to do to you yet. all you can do is mindlessly and rapidly nod your head.

"say it, sweetheart. use your words and tell me what you want me to do."

your hips lift again to touch his, opting to show him rather than tell him. but his hand on your hip pushes them back against the door, refusing contact. his face comes very close, right in front of yours. the hand that moved your thigh grabs your chin, raising your head so your eyes meet his.

"what do you want?"

"i want to feel you on me, newt. wanna feel your dick, please," you say as humanely quiet as possible, too embarrassed to raise your voice.

but it's enough for newt. enough for his brain to short circuit and completely irrationalize everything in the entire world.

"god, you're amazing. good— good fucking girl, you want to ruin me, don't you?" he utters, hand dropping from your chin to grab under your thighs and lift you up. your arms instantly wrap around his neck in response, shocked and, once more, forgetting his strength.

he walks over to the available couch—in what you now understand to be a WCKD storage room—and sits down, placing you on his lap. his hands that are on your waist drag your body closer to his.

"there you go, darling. you can feel whatever you want, however you want. show me."

your legs tighten around his sides as you settle into his lap, breathing uneven as you brace your hands on his shoulders. he leans back slightly, letting you take control, his eyes locked onto yours.

you shift once, experimentally.

his jaw tenses.

you do it again, slower this time, dragging your hips across his with a friction that draws a sharp inhale from both of you. your palms slide down his chest, grounding yourself as your rhythm builds—testing, pushing, letting the tension unravel between your bodies in steady, aching waves.

his hands stay glued to your waist, not guiding, not forcing—just holding, like he might fall apart if he doesn’t have something to grip.

"fuck," he mutters, head dropping to your shoulder, lips brushing your skin. "just like that, love… keep going. you're gonna make me lose my goddamn mind."

you grind harder, slower—circling your hips with more purpose now, chasing the high you’ve both been dodging for way too long. his hard length presses up against you through your clothes, and the friction, the pressure, it’s too much and not enough all at once.

your head tips back, a breathy moan escaping you as you grind down again.

"feels good?" he asks, voice thick, low, wrecked.

you don’t answer. not with words.

instead, you roll your hips harder—sharper—grinding down until his fingers dig into your waist and his hips jerk up helplessly beneath you.

"shit, you’re unbelievable," he hisses, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "look at you… using me like that. you know what that does to me?"

you bite your lip, leaning forward until your lips ghost over his, your breath fanning across his mouth.

"yeah," you whisper. "i do."

and you grind again—slow, steady, purposeful.

"i—no more—i can't anymore, jesus. you're gonna make me finish before i even taste you."

his voice is wrecked, words pushed out between ragged breaths as his head falls back against the couch, neck flushed, jaw tight. his grip on your hips falters just slightly, like he’s barely holding on, every muscle in his body tense beneath yours.

you slow your hips to a lazy grind, just enough pressure to keep him teetering on that edge. his breath catches again, a choked noise slipping past his parted lips. you lean in, brushing your nose along the side of his jaw, lips hovering by his ear.

“that’d be a shame,” you whisper, voice all sugar and venom. “i was really looking forward to you using that pretty mouth.”

a low, strangled groan rumbles in his chest, and you feel it everywhere. his hands tighten around your waist, holding you still, grounding himself like it’s the only way he won’t lose it right here.

“fuck, don’t say shit like that unless you’re ready for me to get on my knees right now.”

you hum, hips shifting just slightly. “maybe i am.”

his hands fly to your thighs, gripping hard, and in one breathless motion, he lifts you—just enough to slide you down onto the couch beside him. your back hits the cushions, and before you can speak, he’s already on his knees between your legs, eyes locked on yours with a look so dark, so hungry, it robs the air from your lungs.

“you don’t get to tease me like that and not let me ruin you,” he growls.

his fingers are already trailing up your legs, slow and purposeful, thumbs brushing the insides of your thighs as he inches closer—his breath hot, lips parted like he’s seconds away from diving in.

“tell me to stop,” he says, voice low, breathless.

you stare down at him, chest rising and falling fast, your body practically vibrating with need.

you don’t tell him to stop.

he doesn’t wait for more permission. doesn’t need it. your silence, your expression, the way your legs shift open wider—it’s enough.

his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, slow but confident. his eyes don’t leave yours for a second as he slides them down your legs, underwear included, until you’re bare for him, flushed and aching and already too worked up from everything that’s come before.

he drags his hands up your thighs again, kneeling between them like he’s worshipping, like he’s settling in.

“gonna pay you back properly for that little stunt,” he mutters, eyes dropping to between your legs.

then—he leans in.

but he doesn’t kiss you there. not yet.

instead, he ghosts his mouth around your clit, deliberately avoiding it. kissing everywhere but where you need him most—your inner thighs, your mound, the crease of skin beside where you’re pulsing. barely brushing close enough to feel, but never landing.

you squirm, hips twitching toward him.

he grips your thighs tighter, holding you down.

“what’s wrong, love?” he murmurs mockingly, breath hot against your skin. “you didn’t think i’d let you do that to me and not give it right back?”

you whimper, thighs tensing beneath his hands. “newt, please—”

he finally kisses just next to your clit, a maddening flick of tongue too close and too far all at once. you choke on a moan.

he pulls back slightly, eyes rising to meet yours. “look at you. fuck, you’re already shaking.”

then—he flattens his tongue and licks a slow stripe up your folds, still not touching your clit, just collecting your arousal on his tongue like he’s tasting something expensive.

and then—then—his thumb finally brushes over your clit, gentle and experimental at first. your back arches immediately.

he hums. “so sensitive already. that’s from just grinding on me, yeah? filthy girl.”

his thumb rubs again, firmer this time, slow circles that pull ragged gasps out of your throat. your hips try to follow his motion, chase it, but he pulls back just enough.

then—he spits.

directly on your clit, the sound obscene, the visual worse—and you see it all, because he’s still looking at you, direct eye contact, like he’s daring you to fall apart.

and then he licks it.

your whole body jolts.

his mouth wraps around your clit now, tongue flicking, sucking softly, then harder, alternating in maddening patterns. and just as you start to unravel, his hand slides up—fingers sliding between your folds—and he pushes one inside.

you let out something between a moan and a sob.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” he mutters, lips still brushing your clit between every word. “take it. take all of it.”

he adds a second finger without warning, curling them perfectly as he sucks harder. your thighs clamp around his head, and he groans into you like he lives for it.

you’re so close it’s blinding—nothing exists but the sounds he’s making, the drag of his fingers, the pace of his tongue.

“newt—” your voice is hoarse, barely more than a gasp. “i—i’m gonna—”

“do it,” he growls, voice muffled. “come on, love, finish for me. want to feel you lose it on my mouth.”

and you do.

it hits fast and hard, your back arching clean off the couch, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as waves of heat roll through your body. he doesn’t stop—not until your thighs tremble, until you’re whimpering from oversensitivity, trying to squirm away.

only then does he finally pull back, lips slick, breath uneven. he kisses the inside of your thigh—soft this time—and looks up at you with a goddamn smirk.

“fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “you taste better than i imagined.”

your body’s still twitching with aftershocks when you finally manage to sit up, thighs trembling slightly. newt watches you with blown pupils, chest rising and falling like he’s been holding his breath for the past five minutes.

you straddle his lap again, skin sticky and flushed, and for a second, he just stares—like you’re something unreal, like he doesn’t know where to look.

then your hands slide to his shoulders, and with a firm push, you whisper:

“lie back.”

his eyes flash with surprise—but it’s the kind he likes. he grins, that crooked, breathless grin that makes your stomach twist, and lets you guide him down against the couch, settling between your legs like it’s the only place he ever wants to be.

you swing your leg over him again, thighs still unsteady as you settle on top, grinding lightly against the obvious strain in his pants. his hands find your waist like they were built to be there, but before he can speak, you tug his shirt up.

“off,” you say softly.

he obliges without hesitation, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. the second it’s gone, your eyes drink him in—golden skin, soft lines cut by muscle, hair tousled and sweat-slicked.

your palms settle on his chest, and your gaze trails over every inch of him.

“hell,” you mutter under your breath, tone somewhere between admiration and disbelief. “how do you even look like this?”

his breath hitches, lips curving into a smile that’s both cocky and dazed. “well, i could say the same, couldn’t i?”

you don’t answer with words—just peel off your own shirt and toss it to the floor. his reaction is immediate. his hands trace up your sides like they’ve been aching to, thumbs grazing just beneath your breasts before he leans in and wraps his mouth around one. the other he palms gently, tongue flicking, lips soft but hungry.

you moan, hand tangling in his hair as your hips shift against his again, more urgent now.

you reach down to push his pants lower, and he lifts his hips to help you. when he’s fully bare beneath you, you hesitate for just a moment—taking in the sight of him, flushed and ready, hard and aching.

he notices. he always does.

“still alright?” he asks, voice low, accent thick and laced with restraint.

you nod. “just… want it to be slow.”

“right,” he says, quiet, gentle. “c’mon, love. take your time.”

you position him at your entrance, breath catching as the tip pushes in. the stretch is sharp—burning just a little—but you steady yourself, hands pressed to his chest as you ease down.

his hands tighten on your hips. “bloody—” he cuts himself off with a groan, head tipping back. “you’re warm… so bloody warm.”

you hiss softly, trying to adjust. it’s overwhelming—he’s overwhelming—and you pause halfway, your body pulsing around him.

“breathe,” he says, voice strained but patient. “don’t rush it. just feel.”

you do. slowly, you lower yourself more, inch by inch, the burn slowly giving way to something fuller, deeper. your forehead dips, your breath stuttering out as you finally sink all the way down.

he’s deep—so deep—and you can feel every twitch of his body beneath you.

“look at me,” he says quietly.

you do.

his eyes are dark, mouth parted, chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths.

“you feel… incredible,” he says, almost reverent. “like you were made to take me.”

you bite your lip, a whimper escaping as you shift your hips, just a little.

his fingers dig in harder, a low sound rumbling from his throat.

“just let me know when i can start fucking you, sweetheart.”

your breath stutters, hips stilling as you adjust to him—stretching around him in a way that makes your entire body ache and burn and need. his grip stays steady at your hips, but not forceful—he’s holding himself back, barely.

you lean in, forehead nearly touching his, breath warm against his lips.

“you can,” you murmur, voice trembling. “please, newt—move.”

his eyes flicker shut for just a second, like the words hit something deep. “yeah?” he breathes, hands tightening ever so slightly. “alright, love. i’ve got you.”

he moves slowly at first, guiding your hips as he lifts his own into you with a careful, deliberate thrust. the pressure knocks a soft moan from your throat, and his head falls back against the couch with a strained exhale.

“sodding—hell,” he mutters under his breath, looking back up at you, eyes dark with awe. “you feel… unreal.”

you start to move with him—tentative, searching for rhythm—and he follows, matching you with soft, deep thrusts, his hands stroking over your waist, up your back, anywhere he can touch.

your breathing quickens as you fall into sync, the sting fading into something consuming and hot, and every roll of your hips makes him stutter a little harder beneath you.

“you alright?” he murmurs, thumb brushing your skin where your shirt used to be. “you’re shaking…”

you nod, barely managing a sound. “don’t stop.”

he smiles—soft, breathless.

“wasn’t planning to.”

his hands find your face now, thumbs brushing your cheeks as he leans up to kiss you, slow and messy. every thrust after is deeper, more desperate, but still careful, still newt—like he’s trying to make sure you remember every second of this.

“look at me,” he whispers into your mouth. “need to see you.”

you do. and when your eyes meet his again, something shifts—deeper than just the physical. his expression falters, like seeing you like this—eyes wide, lips parted, taking all of him—is too much to process.

“bloody hell,” he breathes, brushing your hair back, his thumb gently dragging along your cheekbone. “you’re—”

he doesn’t finish the sentence. maybe he can’t.

because your hips roll down against his at the same time his meet you halfway, and the sudden pressure knocks a sound out of you that’s almost too loud for the tiny room you’re in.

“newt—” you gasp, fingers gripping his shoulders, nails pressing half-moons into his skin. “right there, right—don’t stop, please.”

his jaw tightens, and he nods, breath caught in his throat. “yeah. i’ve got you. just keep movin’—just like that.”

you grind down again, chasing that sweet, burning friction where your bodies meet. your legs are shaking now, thighs quivering around his sides as you start to come apart faster than you thought possible.

he feels it—feels your body clench around him—and it punches the air from his lungs.

“sh—shit, you’re close, aren’t you?” he pants, eyes locked to yours like it’s all he can do. “c’mon, love, let go. let me feel it.”

you don’t need more encouragement.

your body tightens, and the wave crashes—white-hot and all-consuming, making you cry out his name as your entire body pulses around him. your vision blurs, every nerve alight, and you collapse forward into his chest, trembling and gasping as the orgasm rocks through you.

his arms wrap around you instantly, holding you steady as you shake.

“that’s it,” he whispers into your hair. “good girl… i’ve got you.”

you barely have time to come down before he shifts beneath you, letting out a sound between a groan and a choked laugh, like he’s on the edge now.

“you’ve no idea what you’re doing to me,” he mutters, voice thick and broken. “i’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that.”

your lips brush against his collarbone as you breathe, still wrecked, still open around him.

“then don’t,” you whisper. “want to feel you.”

that undoes him.

he groans low and guttural, hands gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you again—harder now, sloppier, rhythm faltering as he chases his own release.

“oh god—christ—you’re perfect,” he rasps, teeth clenching, chest heaving beneath you.

you moan again, still sensitive, but loving it—loving him like this, so undone, so raw beneath you.

and then he breaks.

with a final thrust, he buries himself as deep as he can go, groaning your name into your shoulder as he comes—his entire body tensing, trembling, his breath hot against your skin.

you hold him close through it, hands threading into his hair as he falls apart underneath you, every inch of him pressing into you like he can’t get close enough.

#tmr newt #newt #newt maze runner #newt smut #newt x reader #newt x reader smut #friends to lovers #maze runner #tmr #maze runner smut

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