#anyway hi i miss the purple hair i really do
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𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘬 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴: (121/?)
#btsedit#btsgif#jungkookedit#dailybts#usersky#userpat#userines#userdimple#usersevn#raplineuser#uservans#annietrack#underbetelgeuse#rjshope#usermaggie#usermizuoka#*mine#*jkseries#jungkook#the way i'm glad to have the skillset to work around interesting lighting#like? i get it from an aesthetic standpoint but just- no thanks#anyway hi i miss the purple hair i really do
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x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+゚
in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.
warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.
a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!
“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.
He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.
“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”
The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.
During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong.
“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”
Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”
“Deadly.”
“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”
“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.
They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?
However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.
Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”
Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.
“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.
“I’m starting to regret it.”
“Can’t you at least say it again?”
“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.”
“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”
“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”
“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind.
You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.”
“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”
“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”
“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!”
“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”
“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”
Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety.
His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else.
“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”
You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections.
But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#earthtooz: honkai star rail#dr ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#ratio x reader#dr ratio fluff
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coming over when they're drunk ♡
↬ request from anon ; Hiiii, may I please request the LADS boys getting really drunk, and they decided to come to her house late at night (they either live together or just came to her apartment). It can be only Zayne, tho.
↬ notes ; caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne x gn!reader
↬ from ice ; hihi!! it's been like 7000 years since i last wrote but caleb's announcement has resurrected me!! this prompt was so fun and silly... anyways i hope you enjoy this!
↬ warning(s) ; all LIs are drunk, caleb antis dni, mc is described as shorter than all of them, sylus + zayne's are p suggestive
please reblog ! it helps a lot :)
[ caleb ! ]
"caleb?" what are you doing here?" you gasp as you open the door and see his familiar figure leaning against the frame. he's so tall that he has to duck to enter your apartment, and he stumbles as he does, making you rush to support him. "y/n..." he mumbles, his voice deep and husky, and you feel your heartbeat speed up at the way he says your name, "missed you..." "tsk, you're so dumb," you scold, though your heated cheeks betray how flustered you really are, "going and getting drunk even though you know you can't handle alcohol?" "mmphhh..." he groans as you both somehow manage to land on the sofa, his head resting on your chest, "sorry." you roll your eyes affectionately, threading your hands through his hair, "it's fine, silly. you're going to be the one hungover tomorrow." he nuzzles further into your chest, making you squeak, "hey! caleb!" "just let me sleep here..." and just like that, he's out like a light, his head tucked perfectly in the crook of your neck even though he's so much taller than you. well, you've known him for so many years that being this close is fine, right? it's totally fine that your heart is racing at a million miles per hour from how your dear childhood friend is sleeping on you... right?
more content utc !
[ rafayel ! ]
"ugh, raf, get off!" you groan, trying (and failing) to shove the purple-haired artist off you. "you're too heavy!" "but miss bodyguard~" he whines, lifting his head from how he's draped all 183cm of himself onto you, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders as if daring you to leave. his cheeks are flushed red from the alcohol, crimson dusting his ears when he gazes at you, "you're so warm! and it's sooo cold! you don't want your precious rafayel to freeze, do you?" he pouts, jutting out his lower lip in a way that's deceivingly adorable, and it almost makes you fold. keyword: almost. "well, you don't want your precious miss hunter to get crushed, do you?" you retort, even though you press yourself further into his comforting embrace. "if it's with me, then it's fine," rafayel teases, "i'll take care of you even if you're a pancake." "you're so annoying," you huff, though there's no real anger in your tone as you tuck a strand of purple hair behind his ear. "i'll even get you the best maple syrup and everything!" "...go to sleep, rafayel."
[ sylus ! ]
"sylus?" the two of you are in his mansion in the n109 zone, and he's just returned from another protocore auction. you help him slip off his masquerade mask, though you know he doesn't need to conceal his identity in someplace like this where his name is fear-inducing enough. "are you okay?" your palm presses against his cheek and forehead, checking if he has a fever, "you seem a little flushed." his eyes flutter shut and he leans into your touch, exhaling slowly, "it's nothing... i might have drank too much earlier." his large hand envelops yours, and he opens his ruby eyes once more, fixing his intense gaze on your face, "you're making me want to do very bad things, kitten." "i haven't even done anything- ah!" you argue, but your sentence is cut off as he sweeps you into his arms, lifting you easily into a princess carry. "you talk too much," he teases as you half-heartedly punch his chest, "ugh, sylus!" "i can think of several better ways for you to use that mouth of yours," he smirks as he kicks open your bedroom door, "so let's put those pretty lips to good use, hm?"
[ xavier ! ]
it's two in the morning when you hear a thump on your balcony. arming yourself, you stalk forward slowly, only to see, "xavier?!" "ah. hello, y/n." he stands up shakily, only to lean sideways and fall into a chair. "i was trying to teleport back home... but i guess i ended up at your apartment instead." he looks at you with his irresistible puppy eyes, and you can already guess what he's going to say next. throwing your hands up in defeat, you sigh, "sure, you can stay over." but as he stands up once more, almost toppling over again, you raise an eyebrow, "xavier, are you drunk?" "...not really." he looks away, and you can see how his neck is flushed, "liar. come here, let me help you." as you help him balance with his arm around you and head back inside, xavier's familiar scent wraps around the two of you like a soothing hug. "do i get to share a bed with you?" his eyes light up when you push open the bedroom door, "yeah, i feel too bad making you sleep on the couch when you're like this." his other hand sneaks up underneath the back of your shirt, pressing against your bare skin and sending waves of heat through your body. a gasp slips past your lips, and when you look up at xavier, he merely smiles, "i guess it's a good thing that i ended up here tonight after all."
[ zayne ! ]
"hmm..." you pretend to look thoughtful, gaze roving over zayne's tall figure as he sits on your couch, "is the famous dr. zayne perhaps... drunk?!" your voice turns dramatic, "how scandalous!" zayne looks at you confusedly, dark eyes seeming even darker and rounder than usual like a pair of twin boba pearls, "...what?" "aw, zayne! you're so cute like this!" you gush, giggling and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. "my senses are not that impaired," he retorts, though his voice softens as he feels your familiar weight on his lap, "i am just... tipsy." "mhmm, whatever you say~" you tease, pressing a flurry of kisses along his neck. "d-don't do that..." he gasps, breath hitching as your lips drag over his pulse point, "i might not be able to hold myself back." "so don't." you lean back and tilt your head smugly, knowing that he's putty in your hands, "who said i wanted you to hold back anyway?" his eyes narrow behind his glasses, "don't say things you don't mean." "i mean it one hundred percent~" you smirk, leaning forward to steal his breath with another heated kiss. zayne's hands tighten their grip on your waist before he pins you underneath him, "whatever you say, y/n."
✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠
© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.
#[ my writing — ! ]#[ love & deepspace — ! ]#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#caleb x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#lads x reader#lnd x reader
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Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.
But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...
And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.
Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.
scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.
i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.
if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.
you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.
"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.
"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.
anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.
"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.
"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.
"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?
he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.
but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.
this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.
you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.
you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."
he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."
your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"
scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.
"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.
sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."
fuck, fuck, fuck!
he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.
and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.
even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..
he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.
how dare you make him fall in love.
you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.
he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.
"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.
...
fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!
"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"
scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?
and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.
you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.
having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.
"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."
you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.
he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"
he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.
his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.
your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.
you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.
you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.
"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you
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↳ a pretty mouth ⚤ ghostface x female!reader 【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 warnings ⇢ drinking, sexting, knife play, fingering, oral (m receiving), swearing, orgasm denial, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading, ✉ taking requests first part ▻ please respond…i showed you my cock
It had been days since any kind of attack or sign of ghostface. You almost believed he had disappeared, but it was still in the back of your mind. You never responded to his messages that he sent, and he never came to see you. Not that you really wanted him too.
He was psycho. But there was something about his voice and not knowing who was behind that mask that just made your stomach flip the right way round.
You had multiple missed phone calls from a private or blocked number. You had the upper hand for once.
➤ you can’t ignore me ➤ i’m not going to stop ➤ you can try to shut me out, but i’ll find a way to get back in ➤ and when I do, i’m going to bury myself in that sweet pussy
His texts turned you on the more he sent them. All laced with dirty things you tried not to enjoy.
Clearly you needed to give him something to make him chase you harder. Your parents would start to get suspicious of the large water bills coming through, and the last thing you wanted to give up was your shower head time every night. You felt possessed almost, turning yourself on as you dreamt of him climbing through your window of the night, holding a knife to your throat as he fucked you in ways you haven’t experienced before.
Your legs began to rub to get friction, you needed to stop putting these thoughts in your head. He was a serial killer. The last thing you needed was to be fucking the town’s killer who had threatened your life countless times as well.
When you finished school you went over to your friend’s house to get ready for a party that was happening over the weekend. All day you had multiple messages from him. Nothing new, that was until.
🟪 Gfce23 sent you a snap
The purple box told you everything you needed to know. It was video, with audio. You excused yourself from her room, heading into the bathroom. Opening the video it was once again his cock in his gloved hand, his body more in view this time for you to get a better look. Eyeing over his pale skin.
“Ughnf—this is all for you.” Your clit throbbed at the sudden moaning that came from your phone. Walls tightening at his words. ‘This is all for you’. You licked your lips at the sight of the red tipped cock on your screen that thrusted into his leather glove.
“F-f-fuck y/n.” Hearing him say your name mixed with a whimper as he pumped himself, stomach flexing every time he gasped and his movements picked up just a little more. You found yourself with your fingers dancing between your legs again, toying with yourself. The video ended there. No big finish for you. Your flustered state calmed down when you returned to reality and remembered where you were.
“Jesus, fuck!” You hissed, running fingers through your hair as you tried to finish getting ready. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help lusting after him. Evening came finally and it was time to get drunk and enjoy your weekend. No school, no studying, no homework. Just alcohol and boys. Walking into the house it was already crazy, everyone dancing and rubbing themselves up against each other.
A few mindless games of spin the bottle, truth or dare, and many more kids games. You found the keg, pouring yourself a drink before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was the same guy whose been chasing after you since the first grade.
“Hey y/n, long time no see. Feel like we never talk anymore babe.” You cringed at the pet name he gave you. You liked princess better anyway.
“That’s because we aren’t even friends, I don’t talk to people who aren’t my friends.” You snipped back, walking away from the over-confident jock that didn’t want to take no for an answer it seemed. You swung your head back and downed the drink in the red solo cup.
“Look, y/n. Just give me one chance and if you aren’t into it then I’ll leave you alone.” He chased you. But not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way that you for some reason missed. You felt bad that you never did give him the time of day, and the alcohol was already going to your head. So what was one dance? You allowed him to grab your hand and take you to where everyone else was dancing, rolling your hips against him and allowing yourself to just relax.
It was hard too when you were so sexually frustrated, after what felt like forever of dancing you found your friend. Letting her know you were leaving and going home, she was too busy dancing with a group of guys to care. You thought about walking home but chose to Uber instead.
It was just up the road but in your tipsy state, in a short skirt and with a killer on the loose? What could go wrong?
Your parents were once again gone for the night, using the time away to connect and get their marriage back on track. You didn’t turn on the lights, leaving the house dark and making your way upstairs to your room. Opening the door you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing it dark and just as you left it was disappointing. You walked over to your vanity, turning on the lamp and eyes looking into the reflective surface.
Your eyes shot open and you sobered up at the sight of a white mask and dark cloak leaning against your clothing dresser. Your heart began to race and you stood up, turning around to face the masked figure who had been on your mind day and night.
“Surprise princess.” His familiar voice had you buckling at the knees. You wanted to drop to them and suck the one thing he had been teasing you with the last few times you spoke.
“Get on the bed. Now.” A sharp piercing feeling was against your leg, looking down you saw the knife he held in his hand against the flesh of your exposed thigh. Hard enough to indent your skin but not to actually pierce you.
You nodded as you walked backwards, sitting on the soft surface and using your elbows to keep you elevated. Eyes looking into the dark black mesh that hid your mystery killer’s eyes.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you dancing tonight princess. Open your legs.” You did as you were told and audibly gulped. You never saw ghost face at the party, you wondered where he could have been for him to be able to watch you in such a crowded house. Your thigh was met with a cold, metal against it. His knife slowly dragging up from your knee all the way to the crease where your pubic region met your leg.
He looked down between your legs, eyeing off the cute short skirt and red panties you had on. The same ones he loved seeing you in when you first tried them on. He let out a low groan before swiftly flicking his wrist so his knife teared at the delicate lace.
$60, down the drain. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him against you, touching, rubbing, sucking. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself, the mattress dipping on each side of you as he positioned himself between your legs and removed the lacy garment blocking his view. He tilted his head to the side, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he saw your creamy hole gaping. How he wanted to fill it. His leather covered fingers reached out and began to rub at your wet folds, moving the creamy arousal over your clit and labia. Teasing your core with soft, slow touched. You gasped as he dipped a finger into your cunt, a thick ring of cream engulfing his finger as he entered you.
He began pumping, curling his finger each time to graze against your sensitive walls. You began letting out soft mewls at the sensations in the pit of your stomach. A sensation you had only been able to get from a shower head and your own touch. Without warning, he added another two fingers, thrusting harder and quicker now and watching your hips bucking to meet his every movement.
“Look at you, this pink pussy is aching to be touched. I’ve barely started and you’re almost unravelling under my fingers. How many can you take before I have you begging for more?” He hissed as he added his thumb to your clit, watching you let out a squealed whimper and jerk your body under his touch. He chuckled darkly at your reactions, watching your fingers grab at the blanket comforter underneath you.
Your orgasm was building quickly and you wanted to let go. But ghostface, had other plans for you. Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m gonna cum’ he removed himself completely. Hearing you almost cry from pain at the loss of pleasure.
“Oh no, you don’t get to cum yet princess.” You let out a whine at his words, squirming under his arms. He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock against your core. It was hard and only made you beg for more.
“I want to hear you say you would’ve been honoured to have been killed by me. That it makes you wet and turned on that I could kill you right here, right now. And no one could stop me.” Excitement mixed with panic filled your stomach as you thought about how he would react if you didn’t say it.
“It turns me on, that I’m so helpless and weak, that you could kill me right now and no one would help me…or stop you.” You had to admit to yourself sheepishly, that it was erotic.
“Such a pretty princess, with a pretty pussy. And a pretty mouth. I think we should see how good it feels.” He pulled you to the floor with a loud thud, your wrists hurting from being held in place for so long. He undid the black cloak, the velcro ripping and revealing black jeans. His member pushing against the rough material just dying to get out.
You decided to unbutton his jeans and pull his dick out. It was just as you remembered, pink, swollen and veiny. His tip ached to be touched, a drip of precum oozing out his slit and and running towards the edge of his head. Your eyes met his mask, his hand came to your head and pushed his member past your lip and into the warm embrace of your mouth.
He moaned loudly for the first time, and it made you ache all over again. He thrusted his hips, fucking your throat feverishly and throwing his head back in pleasure. Muttering all kinds of vulgar words under his breath at the sensation he had been chasing since the first time he saw you. You gagged and coughed at the sharpness and uncomfortable feeling of him hitting the back of your throat.
Spittle running down the corners of your lips and chin as he relentlessly unleashed his strength onto you.
“Fucking take it princess, don’t forget how many people had to die for me to feel your pretty lips around my cock. Take it all. Fucking cock-slut.” His degrading words only sparked you to work his member harder, bobbing your heads in rhythm with him now and swirling your tongue around your mouth in no rhythm at all. He didn’t chase his orgasm, your pussy was his endgame.
“On the bed and get on your hands and knees.” He growled, annoyed at himself for not reaching his own high.
“What should I call you?” You asked innocently, big eyes batting at him as you stood to your feet and moved back onto the soft, plush mattress.
“Call me your master.” You moved onto your hands and knees, feels his gloved hands curl around your ankles and pull your legs further apart, in response you also arched your back even more.
“This is gonna be fun.”
#ghostface smut#ghostface#ghost face#ghost face smut#scream#scream 2#scream franchise#scream series#scream smut#scream 3#scream 4#scream 5#scream 6#scream movies#ghostface angst#ghostface x reader#ghostface censored#reader#scream ghostface#crimsonwrites#part 2#smut ghostface#smut scream#mickey altieri#billy loomis#stu macher
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+ CHAPTER EIGHT // ALPHA DISCOUNT
series mlist
Tags — mentions of alcohol again, mention of prostitution (humorous), Toge acting like he’s not a nepo baby, 1/2 chapters taking place at this particular show Words — 0.8k
Since becoming popular enough to have regular shows, the pressure had led you to develop your own pre-concert ritual. Not that you’d really established it as that, but you always seemed to find yourself sat cross legged on the edge of the stage, swirling your overly fruity drink around your cup as the people filtered in. You relished in your secluded silence for the time being because for now, you were nothing but another figure in the midst of the bars smokey haze. You weren’t a performer, the only eyes on you were those that cared or those that would never get the chance. If there was a show, the band knew that until the lights dimmed and the microphone was plugged in, you’d be in the by your lonesome.
Your usual bright, picture perfect demeanour felt as though it was dulled as the nights hours progressed. As the moons cool light bled through the windows, the pink ribbons hanging loosely from your hair appeared almost like a gentle red. Fitting, wasn’t it? It matched your cheeks when you saw him, and the lipliner you ever so meticulously applied in the mirror only minutes before. It matched the person that seemed to possess you when that microphone was in your hand and your friends behind your back, all doing what you loved. And when your eyes met his across the room, everything heightened.
As if your mind had called out to him, the silhouette of a smirking blond cut into the corner of your vision. “Whatcha thinking about?”
An invisible force tugged at your lips, willing you to smile as you craned your neck towards him. “Toge,” you breathed, before processing that he’d asked a question. “Mm, nothing much.”
He quirked a brow, and the way his eyes caught on the subtle crease in your brows wasn’t missed by you. His face twitched as if preparing to speak, but you were quicker than that. So instead of admitting you’d been thinking about a lot of things, and that he was all of them, you changed the topic with a quick glance around the room.
“Did your friends come with you?”
He paused for an instant, purple eyes blinking stupidly before he collected himself. He nodded, gaze flicking to an area nearer to the door. With the attention came the not-so-obvious averting of their gazes—even the mean looking green haired woman had been eyeing you.
“…yeah,” he winced, a breath of embarrassed laughter exiting him. “I think they’re just surprised you’re actually talking to me.”
You hummed questioningly, chin moving to rest in your palm. You watched him intently, appreciating the pause between his responses and feeling oddly enamoured by every contort of his face.
You don’t know if it was the alcohol, but you swear that his breath stuttered when his eyes locked with yours. It was covered up with a playful response before you could dwell on it, though. “Believe it or not, most girls aren’t exactly drawn in by second hand embarrassment.”
You had to bite your cheek to resist from laughing, the fear that the alcohol on your breath would hit him overriding the amusement bubbling in your throat. “I guess I’m special, then.”
He looked up at you, looking just a little more earnest than the moment called for. “Yeah,” he said, voice so soft it was almost a whisper.
Things were silent for a moment, similar to how they’d been only a handful of nights before, when you spent hours crouched laughing over the side of the bar. Toge felt his palms growing clammy and his heart beating a little too fast for how sober he was, and he was suddenly aware of his need for a drink. He looked at the clock and noticed he didn’t have much time left with you anyway, that he was probably holding you back from necessary preparation.
He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his shirt. “I’ll let you get to your uh…” he motioned to the clumps of instruments and chords nearby. You nodded, though feeling a little hollow with the ending of the moment.
“I’ll be watching you. Don’t mess up,” he grinned, hands jamming into his pockets.
“I’ll do my best,” you chuckled.
He spared you another toothy smile before turning on his heel, leaving you sitting on the edge as you had been before. Except now you felt warmer, and suddenly the love songs you sang weren’t all in vain.
Get a load of these LOSERS (I’m lonely)
Next chapter will be the same night/show but I’m breaking it up into 2 so you’re less mad at me
while gang staring like “how’d he do that”
Toge has like. Never had a girlfriend so she is in fact special
Happy new years / New Year’s Eve chat new year same series unfortunately I acc fw them tho I didn’t wake up until noon today for some reason so um yeah! guys what if the world ends and we all go kaboom when the clock hits midnight hmmm
Taglist — closed 50/50
@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @yatiimariiee @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smau#jujutsu kaisen#inumaki toge x reader#toge x reader#toge inumaki x reader#toge inumaki#inumaki toge#jjk inumaki#jujutsu kaisen inumaki#inumaki x reader#inumaki smau#toge jjk#toge x you#toge smau
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boy failures for u - i. yoichi, s. nagi, s. ryusei, b. meguru
summary; in which some boys just love you so much, they simply can't function
genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, comedy, projecting my love for dog energy boys, they're so pathetic /pos, bachira is clumsy, ryusei is an embarrassingly horny dude (can confirm, he gets no bitches, absolutely ZERO play!!), nagi... is perfect as he is, yoichi,,,, is just socially awkward around people he has a crush on
[gender neutral reader]
a/n; look at me being fancy this one panel banner, slay. tbh i couldn't think of a good three photos to use for it so i tried this which is kind of nice. anyways i had a sudden thought hit me and it must be done. and what better anime to write for than the one where everyone has unexplainable gay tension between each other. i swear im as caught up as possible i think and i swear the gay tension is like,, crazy.
isagi yoichi is endearing. he's so bad at being normal around you. his face flushed a cute red, and his words barely managing to leave his mouth as you talk to him so sweetly. he doesn't know how to handle a crush. and it's so cute to tease him because he just doesn't know how to respond properly.
the times where he does manage to gain enough confidence to talk a conversation with you, he's never taking the lead in any of them. he's talking [somewhat] normally to you, answering your questions and [attempting] to reply to your thoughts and responses. of course, just don't flirt with him too hard. there's like a 50 percent chance he will understand it or not.
he can't even admire you correctly. when he attempts to give you a compliment, he's saying all the wrong words and apologizing profusely like he offended your entire bloodline. he's so utterly enchanted by you, he wonders if you're an angel sent just for him.
"you're so nice, y/n." "huh?" "i-i mean you're really cute! wait- i didn't mean that! fuck- not that i don't think you look cute! you're really a great person, you know?! sorry! i'm just gonna go back to practice...!"
nagi seishiro is so lazy that you can't help but watch over him. you understand why reo adores him (a little too much). he's a boy with pretty privilege and talent. he talks to you with such honesty that he unintentionally flirts with you. he doesn't know a lot of things well, but even he's had his fair share with understanding liking people (but that's only with the random dating sims he's tried).
when he manages to get on his feet, whether it's for a soccer match or you, he's stuck by you like a cute koala. he whines about everything being "too much of a hassle." but he finds himself walking around looking for you, no matter how far you are. he whines to you about how he had to get up to find you, and he's cuddling close to you. his mouth turned into his signature X shape as he pouts at you, annoyed that you just had to be away from him for more than a minute.
he tries so hard to be around you but at the cost of his laziness, he mutters to you about how much easier it would be if you just stay with him all the time like his purple-haired companion or his cactus pet. he fell for you first, but he makes it so easy for you to fall harder.
"why do you always have to do stuff?" "it's my job, sei." "you should just stay with me all the time. you take care of me so well."
shidou ryuusei is annoyingly desperate for you. if isagi was endearing, shidou was insolent. he speaks before he thinks. he has no shame in chasing after you. it's quite a feat that you haven't even shooed him away as much as sae has. you sort of find a friend in sae because of that. he always rolls his eyes when you mention him. he wonders why you keep being around the blonde jock, and you tell him, "who doesn't love a pathetic man?"
when he talks to you, he just can't read a room with you in it. he's the type of guy to say "this shot is for you." and it hits the goal post and then to his face. of course he'd never actually miss in a real match but i can guarantee that it would happen during a practice match. he unintentionally humiliates himself every time he tries to be cool. if sae is there, it's even worse. he's trying to bump up the flirting up to a 200 and failing miserably to woo either of you.
he's like those tweets where it's like, "how did i pull them? easy. i just went, PLEASEPLEAPLSEPWPLEAPLELA-". without fail, he basically tries to re-enact that but he doesn't even pull you because you'd much rather wait for him to actually be a decent man and grow the rest of his brain. though it doesn't seem he'll learn his lesson anytime soon.
"did i ever tell you how hot you look right now?" "yes. you have. multiple times. today." "please go out with me." "no."
bachira meguru is confusing. he's clingy, blunt, teasing, a little stupid but has the spirit, and an absolute cutie. he's passionate about what he likes. and surprise, surprise, he likes you. he's an infodumper but you don't mind at all. but sometimes those talks take a hard left into just telling you how much he likes you. you better hope you're strong because he will be jumping on you for a hug.
when he's just buzzing with excitement, he can't help but scramble by your side to cling onto you in any way that you will allow him to. he's not as boy failure as the others on this list because even when he fails to capture your heart, he's still succeeding in his book. he loves when you give him any sliver of attention. that's probably his thing as a boy failure. he is a hyper and needy dog who's too big to cuddle with but doesn't care. and you can't say no because then they just stare at you with those big eyes until you cave.
he's the type of guy to be confused when people ask if you're dating him and you say no. "what do you mean we're not dating? i thought this was the dating." he's never actually confessed, but he considers his "s-tier affection" to be confession enough. but he's kind of coward whether he realizes it or not. he's scared to actually say that he wants to be yours, but that's like an angsty story for another time, SO SHUT.
"what if we kissed? like right now?" "but we're not dating, meguru." "we're not? we should." "i'll think about it." "no think! just do!"
#blue lock x reader#blue lock nagi#blue lock#blue lock nagi x reader#blue lock bachira#blue lock bachira x reader#bachira x reader#bllk x reader#bllk nagi#bllk isagi#bllk shidou#shidou ryuusei x reader#ryusei shidou x reader#blue lock shidou#nagi x reader#nagi seishiro#isagi yoichi#isagi x reader#blue lock isagi#bachira meguru#bllk bachira
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Can you do 100 from the smut prompt list with Peter (Dark Phoenix version) but can you make it where the reader is his wife and he still is gentle and loving with her.
I really want to see how you would write a more romantic Peter
Pancakes
peter maximoff x reader smut
warnings: shameless smut, domestic, married couple, cock warming, risky sex, creampie, implied/referenced breeding
word count: 2,762
a/n: this one's for you, purple cat !! apologies, i'm rusty with my writing and characterization right now. probably will be for a while. sorry the ending's so abrupt !!
Peter races ceaselessly back and forth. Like a fast paced pendulum in full swing, he juggles his two most demanding responsibilities. The X-Men and teaching. His multiple jobs and total lack of free time are some of the many downsides of being a grown ass adult. He doesn’t wanna complain too much though, since the work is definitely rewarding overall. Like fo’ sho, he’s not gonna deny the perks.
But even with those sweet positives - making both money, and a name for himself; your superhero husband rarely has time for you anymore.
Peter hopes you’ll forgive him. Again. As he ambles into your shared room after another heinously long day, his body is littered in scrapes and bruises. Echoes of battles won. The wounds will surely heal by next morning. You know this as well as you know him. But you still insist on patching him up anyway, after Beastie’s already taken care of him twice over. You’re just so damn doting. It makes Peter feel even worse for waving you off.
He guarantees you a quick peck on the lips and a “love you, gorgeous.” Before he finally succumbs to mental fatigue. A tired fog of exhaustion beckons him to collapse into bed. You beg Peter to stay up a bit longer. An hour, at least. But just as you get a word in, he’s already conked out. Snoring away.
Within three hours, he wakes. You sleep soundly next to him. Snug as a lil bug. Peter presses a loving smooch to your sleepy head. Ruffling your hair, he bolts out the door promptly after.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. For months on end. His schedule never seems to align with yours.
Peter misses you so bad. He misses spending time with you. Laughing together. Cuddling for brief instances, cuz he can never sit still long enough for it to last. He misses making small talk. Only to glance at the clock and find hours unknowingly passed. Peter longs to take you on spontaneous trips across the country again, trying pancakes at every small town diner he can find.
And to put it bluntly - he desperately yearns to make love again. To you. His smokin’ hot wife - Mrs. Maximoff - and no one else. After months of pent-up frustration, he’s about ready to burst at the seams. It physically pains him when he remembers how often the two of you used to bone. So many times a day. Every day.
Peter still wonders if his speedy swimmers are even worth a damn. With all the raw, passionate sex he had with you - it’s a miracle you never followed the Maximoff family trend of carrying twins.
He even misses the more shameful moments shared with you. Like the times he surprised you with truckloads of gifts, spoiling you rotten - after he forgot your anniversary. Again. And again and again and- …hey, he warned you, long before the two of you ever got married. Peter isn’t the most reliable lover. He’s never been “boyfriend material,” as they say. And he knows now, better than ever; he most definitely isn’t “husband material" either.
But he really does love you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. About as much as he loves Wanda. Which is an astronomical amount of love, if he's being honest. And if he were born with some reality-warping mutation instead, Peter would move the heavens and Earth just to make you happy.
Times are tough for mutants these days, though. There’s still so much work to be done. Classes to teach. Rights to fight for. People to save. No shortage of those.
You know he isn’t to blame for his absence. And he knows you know it. But still...it just...it sucks! He needs to be there for you, as much as you wanna be there for him.
And when the X-family comes together on a Friday night for a much needed break - more than anything in the world, Peter looks forward to spending every second with you. As soon as you walk into the lounge room, Peter pulls you straight into his arms. You’re wearing a tasteful dress you picked out just for him. It makes you look like a goddamn knockout. But all he wants is to tear it off you and press his bare body against yours. To feel your soft, luscious skin get sweatier under the natural, burning heat of his own.
The team play a few board games together, sharing drinks, gorging on Remy’s best gumbo. Peter gets a slap on the wrist with a ladle, after Lebeau catches him sneaking a third bowl - before anyone else even has their first.
It’s an easygoing, chillaxed affair. And throughout the night, your silver fox husband keeps you close like a magnet. Attached at the hip. He’s uncharacteristically clingy, touching you as much as you’ll allow in a sociable space. Calloused hands tenderly graze your skin as he offers to hold your drink. Peter’s fingers splay against your lower back, curling in, drawing affectionate circles.
You make your rounds and mingle with the family. Peter follows you around like a lost dog in need of attention. He keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, taking every opportunity to secretly grope your ass. You sneak him a few wary glances. Wordless warnings. Bringing his drink to his lips, the fine lines of Peter’s dimples pull in a lazy grin. He averts his gaze elsewhere.
Once more, his impulsivity earns him a slap on the wrist. Not from Remy this time. But from you. Peter takes your subtle scolding as a challenge. Leaning closely into your vicinity, he mutters.
“Oh, it is so on.”
“Don’t you dare!” You whisper back, squealing after he gives you a light smack on your ass.
His teasing continues without warning.
You chat with the team, visibly tensing as Peter pulls a nonexistent strand of lint from your dress. His hot touch lingers dangerously close to your cleavage. You can’t help but blush. The warmth in your cheeks races across your skin, creeping through your supple bust. Left speechless, your words falter on your tongue. Peter carries the conversation for you with minimal effort, flaunting aloof charisma.
He cracks a poorly timed joke and it fails to land. Feigning his embarrassment, he hides his face in the fragrant crook of your neck. His teammates tease him for it. But what they don’t know is, it’s all a theatrical ruse. They don’t see the way his teeth nip your flesh before he pulls away.
During an innocent game of UNO, your husband’s lidded gaze leers at you from across the carpeted floor. Peter’s dark hues make a short gesture to the dip between your legs. Biting his lip, he meets your eyes again with a frisky look. You know that look all too well. Again, you blush profusely. Logan catches him in the act as he wiggles his silver brows. But the old timer makes no comment, shaking his head with a smirk.
The team later settles down for a movie. Taking their respective spots in front of the TV, snacks in hand, they all lounge around. Peter steals a cozy spot on one of the sofas. He leaves a space for you next to him. Bouncing a knee restlessly, he cooks up a number of sneaky ways he can tease you. But his plans are all tossed to the wind once you scooch your way between the couch and the coffee table.
You shimmy your ample ass in front of him. Is it intentional? Unintentional? You naughty, little minx. His virile gaze falls to your tush, so full and grabbable in your dress. In a split second, he grabs your waist and inches you back into the warm familiarity of his lap. Your body relaxes, your back against his chest.
Finally, at last, Peter cuddles his wife again.
And he’s content with doing so for all of one minute.
His knee continues to bounce underneath you. With your hands joined together in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly play with your wedding ring. Steering his attention from Jurassic Park, Peter brings a hand to your chin. In the darkness, the television’s light illuminates all of your best features. You’re stunning. He really can't help himself. Peter pulls you in for some modest lip action. Careful not to catch anyone’s attention. The fingers of his opposite hand tease the back of your neck, igniting patterns of goose flesh.
“Aw, you cold?” Peter’s affectionate voice hitches, seemingly innocent.
He doesn’t wait for an answer. Peter vanishes and returns in a fwip, draping a thick blanket over the two of you once he returns. Showing gratitude, you peck his cheek with a soft kiss. Cute. Your mischievous husband almost laughs. He adores how naive and sweet you are. Oblivious to his schemes after five years of a marriage, and a decade of familiarity. Peter makes a few adjustments. Playing it off like he’s covering you for warmth.
You sink into him again with a fond smile on your lips.
An adoring smile that instantly falls, lips parting, exhaling a breathless gasp.
Peter trails fiery fingertips along your inner thigh and up your dress skirt. His hooded gaze stays hard locked on the movie, faking interest in Jeff Goldblum’s incoherent mumblings. Blissful buzzes resound faintly against the fabric of your panties. Peter’s grin stretches impishly again when you jolt as a response. Your clit pulses under flush pressure, making you squirm in his lap.
Confession time: your husband’s on a mission to make you as wet as possible, in as little time as possible.
The pads of his warm digits draw lower and push into damp fabric. You’re already soaking yourself silly.
“Feel that? How wet you are? Must’ve really missed me, huh?” Peter breathes silently with his nose in your neck, getting high off your familiar scent. His lips press a chaste kiss to your skin. A husky chuckle blooms in his throat, “Missed you too. Missed this. So fuckin' much.”
His name teeters off your lips in a confused whimper, barely audible. Sneaking your damp panties to the side, Peter’s thick digits breach your lonesome pussy folds. After being deprived of you for so ungodly long, the feel of your wet lust hardens him all at once. His fingers play a little game of tunnel diving, prodding your lush insides. Peter adjusts his position on the sofa by a smidgen. Silent curses tickle your temple. His girth bulges against your ass.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You huff under your breath, frantically scanning the room as he shifts again.
Peter’s digits curl so deliciously deep inside you, whirring like a silent vibrator, making your cunt spill leaky love. His breathy lips loom close to your ear.
“Hmm? Gunna try somethin’ risky. You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby? Don’t want ‘em catchin’ on.”
“Honey, no-”
“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just go with the motions. Trust me. It’ll be so fun. I know you wanna.”
Peter uses speedster precision to pull his flush dick discreetly from his jeans. Poor guy’s so homesick, he’s crying - leaking precum, throbbing as Peter nudges him into your plush heat. It’s an awkward angle at first. But Peter guides you through it with more hushed whispers. The blanket acts as a veil of innocence, draped over your connected bodies. Peter urges your hips to sink lower. You choke on your own mewls as he scarcely ruptures your precious tunnel.
“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” He coos through an easy tone, parting his lips against the shell of your ear.
A subtle hitch of his hips does the rest of the work for you. Biting his tongue, Peter curls his brows inward. Your slick walls envelop his length all at once. Smooth, shuddery tightness compresses his cock and sets his nerves ablaze. Your husband peppers your temple in heedless kisses, letting throaty grunts slip in between each one. His pulsing cock keeps your walls pried open. Snug, safe, secure, and buried to the hilt.
Peter doesn’t move, and neither do you. One of his hands digs nails into your hips over your dress, keeping you cemented on his lap. He’s torturing himself, fighting his own relentless impatience in an attempt to stay perfectly still. And it’s taking every microscopic ounce of willpower not to pound you senseless. Peter covers his face with a palm. His dark, lust-blown eyes peer through lazy fingers at the TV.
He’s six inches deep in his wife right now, and not a soul in the room has any clue.
Clearing his throat and acting casual, Peter shifts his hips again. His fat tip prods your cervix with a weepy kiss. Like a promise to stuff you full of something special. He sneaks a careful hand between your legs. His wedding ring settles over your bush, cool to the touch. The rough pads of his fingers vibrate more intensely than before, winding into your twitchy clit. Coaxing you to break. You tremble in his lap, knees flying inward, knocking together hard enough to bruise.
Peter’s eyes roll back in his skull as your sticky walls seize tightly around his snug dick.
“Ah, fuck me.” He groans into your hair.
He can’t stop himself from knocking his hips upward every few minutes. Burrowing his buzzing thickness deeper, Peter splits you open, impaling your poor pussy. His genes imbue his body with primal frustration. Hiking the intensity of your hot bliss, his digits toy with your clit. Your breaths grow more sparse and shallow, as you blink tears from the corners of your eyes.
“Pietro, honey, please-"
He hitches his next breath. Reeling his ass into the couch cushions, Peter makes an abrupt retreat before ramming his cock into your womb. His inky gaze widens tenfold as your pussy swells, squeezing his dick tight enough to lock him in your hot channel forever. His lashes flutter. Going cross eyed, Peter feels his weighty balls tense under denim.
His hand darts up from your hip, clamping over your mouth in a flash. Peter pulls you hard against him, your back flush with his heaving chest as you cum. You’re so fucking lucky the movie transitions into a particularly loud scene. The shrill roar of Jurassic Park dinosaurs plays like a perfectly timed miracle. Concealing your muffled squeals of ecstasy.
The slippery contractions of your orgasm send him into the stratosphere. Your pussy creams hard on your husband’s whirring cock, and his pent-up longing comes crashing in bombastic waves. As covertly as he can, under the thick heat of the blanket; Peter repeatedly thrusts into your lush pussy. Slowly - so as not to catch anyone’s attention.
It’s both the most hellish, and thrilling sexual experience of his near-middle aged years. He bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s brows fly up, following an expression of pure vulnerability. Thick, endless pools of white, syrupy heat flood your pussy, gushing in streaks and leaking down his vascular dick.
Peter takes a two second pause to catch his breath, unusually winded from such a scandalously intimate experience. With his nose buried in your hair, his lips pepper your head in soft kisses. Bringing his fist to his mouth, Peter clears his throat again.
“Uhm, g-great party, guys! Love you! We’re gonna bounce. G’night!”
The two of you disappear in a blur, leaving the blanket fluttering in the air.
Back in your shared room, your ever-insatiable husband drills you raw again and again. Spilling thick, sticky load after load - like he’s really trying his damndest to knock you up. You lose track of how many times you reach ecstasy. Peter tells you he’s making up for lost time. By the end of it all, your limp, naked body lies loosely in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair, he catches himself staring at the ceiling with a big, dumb smile on his face.
Saturday morning, Peter channels his inner, teenage self. Recalling his notorious streak of high school ditch-days, much to his mother’s dismay. He decides…ah, screw it. If Chuck needs him, he can just reach out via telepathic communication. Peter bails on his responsibilities to take you out for pancakes. At a family owned diner in some nowhere town, far away from any sinister villains.
You sit across from him at the booth, leaning tiredly over your breakfast. He can tell your body aches just by looking at you. Bones rigid. Legs sore. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared.
You’re goddamn beautiful.
#not a fan of this one but i hope yall get a kick out of it !!#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#smut drabble#peter maximoff#txt
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Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ PART TWO
Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader
Word Count ✦ 2.2K
Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, unwanted groping, attempted SA, mentions of being roofied, mention of blood, physical violence, alcohol, clubbing, someone flashing a crowd, cussing
A/N ✦ I wrote part two a lot quicker than I thought I would, I'm actually really enjoying this story so far! Stay tuned for part three :)
PART ONE »»» Series Masterlist
I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule
“Would you get your head out of la-la-land and focus.”, Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of your face.
It had been three days since your interaction with Bucky, and you kept finding yourself daydreaming about him, wishing the handsome man would come back into the coffee shop soon.
“Sorry Nat.”, you said sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.
Your friend stood in front of you in her bedroom, a tight purple dress clung to her figure.
“What do you think of this one?”
“You could wear a trash bag and still look amazing. But I think that I like the green one more.”, you said pointing to the silky cocktail dress she had tossed onto the bed next to where you sat.
“Well then I guess green it is.”
The two of you were at your and Nat's shared apartment, readying yourselves to go out for your mutual friend Thor’s birthday party. Nat considered herself a clubbing queen, she loved to be the life of the party. You on the other hand would prefer to be at home.
“Now little-miss-wallflower.”, Nat said pointing to you, “We need to put together something for you to wear.”
She had you try on outfit after outfit, repeatedly saying none of them had that oomph she was going for.
“Nat can I just wear this?”, you pleaded with her, gesturing to the long black bodycon dress she had put you in.
“No, that's not fitting the image I have in my head.”, she said, ruffling through the closet.
“And what exactly is that image?”
“I want a sexy, bold, outgoing vibe.”
“You know that being bold and outgoing aren’t exactly my thing, right?”
“Exactly, you need to get out of your comfort zone Y/N, live a little.”
After several more outfit changes Nat finally found the perfect ensemble. A red-wine colored dress adorned your body. Its neckline dipped dangerously low, reaching below your sternum and the bottom of the garment barely hit mid-thigh.
“Isn’t this a bit much?”, you asked, looking yourself up and down in the mirror.
“Not in my opinion.” she shrugged, “But anyways you look amazing so I say this is it.”
Staring at yourself again, you did have to admit the dress did make you feel hot.
“Okay fine, you win, I’ll wear this.”
Nat smiled from ear to ear, “Amazing! Now let’s finish getting ready.”
You added a pair of black heels to your outfit, straightened your hair, and Nat had helped you do a smokey eye for your makeup. After an hour of getting ready, the two of you were walking out the front door and heading downstairs to wait for your Uber.
After the quick car ride, you and Nat found yourselves outside a club, a bright blue neon sign reading Supernova sat above the front door. Both of you joined the line to get in. Once you reached the front, the bouncer checked your ID’s and stamped your hands with a shooting star that lit up under the flashing lights.
You scanned the club, glancing over the horde of people, before your eyes finally found who you were looking for. Grabbing Nat’s hand you pulled her behind you in the direction of your friends.
“Y/N! Nat!”, Thor cheered seeing the two of you approaching.
“Hi Thor! Happy Birthday!”, you yelled over the booming music, giving him a hug.
You then greeted your other friends; Wanda, and Clint. The group sat at a table near one of the many small stages scattered about the club. Each of the platforms had girls dancing on them. Your eyes quickly looked away as one of them took off her top, cheers erupting from the group of men standing below her. You felt beyond out of your element.
“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin Y/N.”, Clint chuckled at you.
You shrugged at him, “I think I just need to get a drink in me. I’ll be right back.”
Walking away from your friends you snaked your way through the throng of people dancing, reaching the bar.
The bartender, a girl with bright pink hair and several facial piercings, turned from the man she was talking to, yelling from the other end of the bar top, “Be with you in just a second!”
You nodded at her, looking up at the chalkboard menu sitting above many shelves of alcohol. Your eyes scanned over the neon pink chalk settling on the special for the night.
Tonight's Special: Midnight Whisper
⛦ vodka, blue curacao, grenadine, sprite, edible glitter
⛦ $11
You leaned up against the bar, studying your surroundings while you waited. Couples were dancing a little too close for comfort, there was a group of girls circling around one of their friends as she threw up in a trashcan by the dancefloor, a group of frat boys sang along to the music blasting through the club.
As your eyes glanced at the V.I.P. area, they widened in shock. Bucky sat in the corner, surrounded by Steve and a few more men. You locked eyes with him and he raised his glass towards you, shooting you a smile.
“What can I get for you?”
You jumped in surprise, turning to see the bartender.
“Can I get a Midnight Whisper?”
“Of course, that’ll be $11.”
Reaching inside your purse your fingers wrapped around your wallet, pulling it out to pay.
“I’ve got it.”, a voice said from behind you.
You looked over your shoulder seeing a man you didn’t know behind you.
“It’s okay really.”, you said.
“No, I’ve got it sexy, a lady with a body like yours shouldn’t have to pay.”, he smirked down at you.
He handed the bartender some cash.
“Um thank you.”, you said flatly.
“No problem, smoke show, I’m Caleb, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you.”, you grumbled, not meaning it at all, but trying to be polite because he just bought you a drink.
“Here you go girly.”, the pink haired girl slid you your cocktail.
Caleb slid his arm around your shoulders, hand lingering over your drink. You were looking at his face as he did this, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.
Reaching for your drink, you turned away from him, “Thanks for the drink, I’ve got to get back to my friends now, they’re probably wondering where I went.”
Caleb’s hand shot out, gripping your bicep, “What do you mean you’ve got to go back to your friends? I just bought that for you, can’t you stay and at least talk to me for a bit?”
“First of all,let go of me.”, you hissed yanking your arm out of his grip, “And secondly I tried to pay for my own drink, but you insisted, I said thank you for it, but that doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”
You turned and weaved back through the crowd towards your friends.
As you approached Nat raised an eyebrow at you.
“What’s got you in such a sour mood.”, she said, studying your visibly pissed expression.
“Some dude bought my drink for me and acted like I owed him a conversation because of it.”, you rolled your eyes.
“I would be irritated too.”, Wanda said from beside you.
You laughed, “Anyway enough about that weirdo, guess who I just saw Nat?”
“Who?”
Grinning, you said, “That Bucky guy from work the other day!”
“Oh my God!”
“Who’s Bucky?”, Wanda asked.
You filled your friend in on the handsome man.
“Why don’t you go ask for his number?”, Clint said, eavesdropping on your conversation.
“Because he’s in the V.I.P area, and I don’t have the balls to do it.”, you laughed out, taking a sip of your drink.
Just then Thor appeared, having come from the dancefloor.
“Come on guys let's go dance!”, he yelled.
He grabbed your hand pulling you with him, the rest of your group following behind.
As you guys danced and drank, you began to feel weird. Your head was pounding and you were hit with a wave of nausea.
“I don’t feel good.”, you whispered to Nat, and you rushed to the bathrooms.
“Hey wait-”, she called after you.
You disappeared into the crowd leaving Nat behind, as you stumbled through bodies, your vision began to get blurry leaving you a disoriented mess. There was no way that one drink had done this to you.
Finally you reached the hallway in the back of the club that led to the bathrooms. You shakily leaned up against the wall, dragging yourself along the cool cinder blocks towards the ladies room. Suddenly you found yourself pushed up against the wall, your back smacking it so hard you almost felt the wind rush out of your lungs.
“Hi beautiful.”, Caleb jeered at you.
“What-”, you slurred out, tongue feeling heavy.
He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand, moving your lolling head back. His other hand settled on the back of your thigh, slowly creeping its way up, his fingers digging into your ass cheek. Your body was like Jell-O, you couldn’t move, leaving you defenseless. You felt tears begin to well in your eyes as you looked up at him.
Next thing you knew Caleb was lying flat on his back a few feet away and you crumpled sliding down the wall to the ground, your legs unable to support yourself.
“What the hell man!”, Caleb screamed, a cut to the side of his head had blood cascading down his face.
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing.”, someone said.
You looked up at your savior, realizing it was the same man who had generously tipped you the other day.
“Oh what so a guy can’t feel up his girlfriend anymore?”, Caleb lied.
“Sweetheart,” Bucky said looking down at you, “Is this guy your boyfriend?”
“No.”, you gurgled out.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about! The bitch is just drunk!”, Caleb yelled as he stood up.
Bucky however knew that wasn’t the case. You were obviously out of it, but not from alcohol, you gave away the tell tale signs of being roofied.
After he saw you at the bar, he had been watching you. He saw your interaction with Caleb, almost getting up after the man had grabbed you, but relaxed when he saw you could handle it on your own. However when he saw you stumbling off towards the bathrooms and Caleb stalking after you, he stood up and followed the two of you, ignoring Steve asking him where he was going.
He had entered the hallway just as the slime ball had groped you, and without thinking, Bucky decked him in the head. In all honesty Bucky hadn’t felt this angry in a while. It pissed him off to no end, seeing Caleb taking advantage of you, the shy and sweet barista he had just met the other day.
“Y/N, oh my God what the hell happened?”, Nat appeared at the end of the hallway.
“This jackass drugged her.”, Bucky growled, nodding in Caleb's direction.
Nat moved towards the aforementioned jackass, but was stopped by Bucky putting his arm out.
“Let me deal with him. Get her up to the V.I.P area, let Steve know what happened.”
Nodding Nat moved down to the ground, throwing your arm around her shoulder and dragging you upwards. You stumbled as the two of you walked back down the hallway, out into the club. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Bucky nearing Caleb, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up.
Hazily you remember Nat heaving you to the V.I.P section. Steve immediately recognized the pair of you from the other day, and he jumped up helping Nat carry you to one of the couches. While they did so Nat explained the situation to him.
“Tony go get her some water.”, Steve told one of the other men that had been sitting with him.
The dark haired man turned and headed towards the bar with urgency.
“Y/N, Nat are you guys okay?”, you heard Clint shouting from the velvet rope sectioning off the V.I.P area from the rest of the club.
“Are those your friends?”, Steve asked looking at the group that had gathered.
“Yeah they are.”, Nat said.
“Hey guys let them up here.”
One of the security guards by the rope lifted it up and allowed your friends through.
“You know that guy from earlier she said was weird? Somehow he drugged her.”, Nat said to your friends.
“Where’s he at? What's he look like? I'm going to go kick his ass.”, Thor stated, turning to head back down to the dancefloor and hunt down Caleb.
“Someone else already beat you to it.”, Nat said pointing to Bucky who had returned from the hallway.
“Sam, Scott, can the two of you go get the mess in the hallway cleaned up?”, Bucky asked as he neared everyone.
“Gotcha.”, Sam nodded.
“What’d you do kill him?”, Nat asked gob smacked.
“No, just taught him a lesson about keeping his hands to himself.”, he said as he picked up a cocktail napkin from one of the tables, wiping blood off his knuckles.
Your vision started blurring again and the ringing in your ears drowned out any other sounds. The last thing you remember was Bucky looking at you worriedly before you finally passed out.
PART THREE
I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!
#mafia!bucky x reader#bucky barnes#winter soldier#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x female yn#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fanfic#bucky fanfic au#james bucky barnes#james barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#mafia!bucky barnes x reader#mafia!bucky x y/n#mafia!bucky barnes x y/n#mafia!bucky#mafia!james buchanan barnes#mafia!au#mob!bucky#mob!bucky x reader#mob!bucky x y/n#mob!au#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes x y/n#au fanfiction#protective bucky barnes
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thinking about George and ditzy reader in the courtyard during a free period and while he’s ranting away about quidditch or something that annoyed him she’s just like smiling and making a flower crown that she gives him when he’s all ranted out😞😞sorry I just love this pairing so bad
this is such a cute idea don't apologize!! <3
wc: 0.5k
“And that’s the whole point. I told Oliver that maybe- hm?” George paused his ramble once a purple grape was brought up to his lips.
“Grape?” You asked, already eating one yourself.
“Thanks.” He was going to take it from you but you put the fruit in his mouth by yourself instead, he chewed on one side of his mouth as he talked on the other. “Anyways, I told him that maybe if he decided to ask if we could get new beaters bats, then they would stop breaking mid practice or game.”
You shoved another grape in his mouth, accidentally making him flinch, he thanked you again and continued on.
“I mean, we can’t keep on fixing them with spells forever. There’s still chips of wood missing. I’m sure Madam Hooch or Dumbledore wouldn’t mind pitching in for us.” He ended his rant with a sigh. You put your now empty tupperware back in your bag.
The yellow dandelions next to your bag caught your eye, the weed problem had been getting quite bad in the courtyard. You plucked a good amount before sitting back up.
George started up his ranting again.
“I think Oliver just takes everything too seriously. I mean- Quidditch is serious. I take it seriously. But for Merlin’s sake he needs to let loose sometimes. I swear his day is just eat, class, quidditch, sleep, repeat…”
You splayed the dandelions out on your lap, grabbing a few and weaving them together. Creating a chain while you nodded and glanced at George and the top of his head.
His words were going out one ear and the other to be honest, you were too focused on tying the stems together. You could’ve used magic to intertwine the flowers, but that felt like cheating.
“…then there’s constantly the rookies on the Ravenclaw team who don’t want to follow the rules. It’s really the entirety of the Slytherin team. They try to act like they don’t know what they’re doing so they don’t get a foul. You’re telling me that those two new Ravenclaw chasers didn’t know they just did a body blow? That they accidentally slammed into one on our team? At the same time? Prats.” He scoffed, looking down at his hands and looking at a callus on his palm. He was actually done ranting now. He blew all his steam off, yet he was still frustrated.
You took that moment of quiet to carefully place the dandelion crown onto his head. He looked up with creased brows, acting as if he rolled his eyes up far enough he could see what was on his head.
“It's a dandelion crown.” You stated, holding up one of the unused flowers in your hand. His eyes narrowed for a moment, he was confused by your random gesture. When was he not?
“Do I look nice with it on?” He fixed his posture, sitting up from his hunched over position.
“It’s lopsided, but the yellow goes well with your hair. It looks pretty.”
“You look pretty. Thank you.” George tried copying the way you thank him, by kissing his cheek. He punctuated his sentence with a small kiss to the side of your face. You smiled, hoping that looking down at your hands in your lap would hide the blush forming on your face.
#requests#ditzy!reader#george weasley#george weasley fic#george weasley x reader#george weasley imagine
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i ♡ my girlfriend - lee donghyuck
wc: 1k
summary: a continuation of one of my caramel!haechan hcs, where you take care of him while he’s drunk
warnings: not proofread, alcohol, being drunk, nothing else!
an: somehow this came out to be not as fluffy as i wanted, like the request asked, but is still longer than intended??? im a wittle confuzzled guys.. anyways enjoy my first set of fake texts !!! i hope i did a good job (ignore the timestamps, this is set past 11pm in my mind)
(caramel!hyuck masterlist here! ʕ ᵔⰙᵔ⠕ʔ)
───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────
your phone begins ringing, and you pick up mark’s incoming phone call. “hello? mark, you didn’t have to call, i’m already-” you’re interrupted when his camera turns on, revealing your boyfriend instead of the one you were just speaking to.
“hiiiiii girlfriend! i miss you soooo much, mama… please come get me, there’s scary women looking at me and i want to be with you now..” his face takes up the entirety of the screen, purple lights casting shadows over his tanned skin and pouted lips. you can see a glimpse of his ‘i heart my girlfriend’ shirt at the edge of the screen, and it makes you smile softly.
“umm, okay, baby, i’m on my way. i’ll save you.” it takes everything in you to not go over the speed limit once you get in your car, a surge of jealousy flowing through your brain, but if his reaction was anything to go by, you don’t have much to worry about.
“you’re already on your way? really?! i love you girlfriend, please hurry! but not too much because i can’t have you crashing and dying..” he trails off, looking up at the boy who’s shoulder he was resting on and whispering, ‘markie, look, my girlfriend’s on the phone with me.’ you can’t hear much but you’re sure he’s had enough of donghyuck, so you call his attention once again.
“okay, hyuckie, i’m sure mark wants his phone back, so why don’t you hang up the phone, okay? i’m almost there.” at this, his face lights up, and he starts rambling about his excitement before the phone hangs up abruptly.
with a heavy sigh you park your car outside the bar and make your way in. you’re sure you stand out very well, messy hair and sanrio pajamas being a stark contrast between the put together outfits of other patrons.
making your way through the crowd towards the seating areas, you see your boyfriend sitting in the booth with his friends. funnily enough, mark sees you first, eager to get rid of the clingy, annoying boy.
he shoots up, leaving hyuck’s head to slip off his shoulder and hit the back of his seat. once he’s awaken, then he immediately gets up as well. mark helps him up through his stumbling, guiding him to your arms.
“hey,” he sighs. “he’s clearly very…” instead of finishing the sentence, he just gestures to him. throughout the whole time mark was speaking, hyuck was leaning into your shoulder mumbling things you couldn’t even understand.
“yeah, i can tell.. anyways i’m sorry you had to deal with him..” you smile awkwardly, having to pry your boyfriend off your body to make your way to your car.
“yeah, it’s chill. get home safely, okay?” he nods, waving to you before turning back to the table.
typically it would be a struggle to haul a drunk man to your car, but donghyuck is so clingy that all you had to do was walk by yourself and have him follow. when you put him in the passenger seat he wastes no time in kissing you while his seatbelt gets put on.
“thanks for getting me, mama. i was really so scared just now. ugh, being perceived by other women is just sooooo nasty!” he drones on dramatically, sighing heavily as he sinks back into the seat.
you make your way around the car, getting in the driver’s seat and starting the car. “oh yeah? aren’t you lucky i saved you then, hm?” you turn to him once again, pinching his cheek lightly before starting the drive back home.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
with all the strength you can muster, you finally haul hyuck up to your front door, quickly unlocking it and letting him in.
“ooh yay! we’re in mama’s house..” he drones on, stepping into the house and happily observing the decor.
“yup! now, hyuckie, do you wanna shower or just get undressed.” you turn to face him, pressing your hands to his pink cheeks.
“get undressed? hmm, i like the sound of that…” he’s smirking, his eyes in the shape of crescents.
you roll your eyes, turning around to guide him into your bedroom. it would be stupid to even respond to him, so you choose to instead ignore him. once he’s in you sit him down on the bed, instructing him to remove his clothes while you get him water.
when you come back in your room, hyuck has already met you at the doorway, stripped down to his boxers. he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly as he walks you back to the bed. before he can drag you (without knowing his own strength) onto the bed, you set his glass and painkillers on the nightstand. finally, you fall forward onto his chest, picking your head up to kiss his birthmarks.
“you seriously took so long just now. does it really take that long to get water? i literally could’ve grown old and died in that time.” he pouts, wrapping both his arms and legs around you.
“oh i know, hyuckie, i’m so evil, but i had to get the stuff to take care of you. don’t you want to be taken care of?” you ask, twirling a piece of his curly hair between your fingers.
“hm… i guess that is really nice..” he trails off.
“okay, then let’s get up and clean you up, okay?” you offer, pushing yourself off of him and leading him to the bathroom.
you already did your own routine prior to picking hyuck up, so you really just stood there for emotional support while he (clumsily and half-assed) washed his face and brushed his teeth. you already decided that a shower would not be best right now, so after he finished up you went straight to bed.
flipping up the fluffy pink covers, you lay down first before inviting hyuck into your arms. he slips under as well, but before he fully lays down he grabs one of your many plushies and brings it with him. trapping it in between your bodies, he gets comfortable and finally is able to rest, happy in your arms. unfortunately for you, you won’t be having much rest for the next few days due to hyuck’s tendency to milk your care until it’s dry.
───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────
#mejaemin#nct#nct 127#nct dream#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#lee donghyuck#lee donghyuck x reader#lee haechan#lee haechan x reader#haechan#haechan x reader#haechan fluff#nct fluff#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff#— caramel ʕ ᵔⰙᵔ⠕ʔ#— reqs ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ
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u and jude being in the same friend group and ur all together on a trip, though jude has been in love with you since day one and on the first night there u two sleep together, leaving u confused and wishing for more knowing things couldn’t be the same after the special night <3
no one knows - jude bellingham x reader.
quick sum: request above!
wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: hii!! ik i said this would be posted sooner but i got sidetracked (what’s new… also don't hate me i didn't proof read...) ANYWAYS... this does contain small bit of smut so minors dni! like always hope you enjoy 🤍
the soft waves of the hammock you laid on rocked slowly as you stared out into the almost night sky. the different shades of orange now purple and blue, tiny star appearing in the distance, waves hitting the shore making the whole atmosphere just at peace. it was a king day of travel, having missed your first flight due to a delay on the train.
you had arrived last, but it didn’t matter because you were finally with your friends, wanting to make most of the trip you had planned. you changed into a knitted crème color swimsuit, loving how it fit and hugged your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your cleavage just right.
everyone inside was asleep, but you couldn’t go to sleep without wanting to watch the night fall. you loved the beach, the smell, the feel of sand, how your hair went to its natural state, and the feeling of freedom. you quickly got distracted by the click of the door opening, footsteps approaching where you were.
“hi,” you squeak as you see jude lean against the palm tree pole, shirtless and wearing similar shorts as your bathing suit. “you okay? you were the last to arrive and your here alone,” jude asked softly not being able to hold back the gulp at how dreamingly your body looked under this ray and light.
“i’m okay… just can’t sleep for some reason,” you stifle a small laugh, “plus i haven’t seen a view like this in so long, i just wanted too see it, i mean take a look.” jude obliged, looking around in a daze at how the night sky looked now. “yeah you’re right… i feel at ease,” jude nodded.
“how come you’re still up? is everything okay with you?” you sat up, propping your elbow and the back of your hand resting on your temple, your full attention on jude. you couldn’t deny but feel a tad bit confused he was here. jude never really spoke to you an when he did it was short and simple. so you wouldn’t be surprised if he made small talk and left.
“jet leg i guess? you’d think after all the constant travel i’d be used to it but it’s always difficult to fall asleep after a long flight for me,” jude explained taking a seat on the wood chair that was by the balcony. you hummed in response, your hand dragging up from your thigh to your hip letting it rest.
you sensed he wanted to tell you more, his fingers tapping against his massive and toned thighs, his eyes adverting from you to the sea. jude wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, and he knew in this moment it was now or never. “do i make you nervous?” you ask slyly, standing and walking over to him. you hated feeling awkward and left out around him, and you needed to know the reason behind it.
jude was a complete different person in his games, in public, around your friends, yet, he treats you so differently which threw you off the edge. jude roamed your eyes from your tanned shiny legs, your curved torso and bust, his heart stammering against his chest as you looked so willingly and utterly beautiful. “or do you just hate me?”
“hate you? why would i hate you?”
“don’t know… you tell me. it’s like this every time we’re around each other. the tension? you can’t even look into my face? you barely speak a word to me? if i’ve done something to offend you, let me know so i can apologize,” you spoke dearly, following his exact movements by roaming your eyes on his figure. legs spread out begging to be touch, abs defined, with veins adorning his arms. jude was fucked, all he could think about was you in this damn bathing suit and the silly theory you made in your head.
hate you? that’s impossible.
“what if i told you it was the opposite? what if i told you i’m infatuated by you?” jude looked up, standing and over towering you, your gaze shifted from confident to shy. your eyes lowering as jude looked down at you. “that when i’m around you all i can think about is you. how you look, smile, talk and walk, smell… it’s so infuriating to be this madly in love with you and not being able to do a thing about it…” jude confessed, drawing the air out of your lungs, like the wind that breezed the night sea.
“i feel like you’re lying to me…” you couldn’t help but say. a hesitance of insecurity, and that’s there’s absolutely no way this man was in love or was confessing any sort of feelings when actions proved otherwise. “why would i lie to you hm? i’m being completely truthful here y/n,” god the way he said your name had you trembling your knees. “you can’t be jude. we’re so different-”
“that’s what you think, and it’s all in your head. tell me this second you don’t feel it? the magnitude sensation for me to approach you? i can see it in your pretty face darling. now it’s you who can’t even look at me? or yet talk,” jude inches closer to you, seeing your chest rapidly raise up and down.
“you’re everything to me… i’ve had to resist myself because i have no idea if you feel the same way. i’d rather love you from a distance than be embarrassed and you not liking me back…” jude traced with his fingertips along your forearm. “don’t you see it? everything i’ve done it’s because of you… i wouldn’t be here if you weren’t y/n. i just want you…” his pleading and vulnerability in his voice had you gulping a response.
“let me show it to you hm? how you make me feel… how you deserved to be treated,” you nodded feeling the heat rise in you. the familiar desire to be wanted, appreciated, touched by a man like jude. “please jude…” you said in a small whimper, looking up where jude had a hungry gazed, lips slightly open. “show me-”
you remembered how cool the wall was when he hit your back against it, kissing you deeply, so messy and hot. how his hands traveled from your side and around your spine, gripping your ass as he ran his tongue down from your jaw and pulse point. you could feel everything, how big jude was, how hot his skin was to your touch, how desperate the need was.
he had dragged you to his room, his lips never leaving yours any second. it was so vivid in your head, how your back pressed against his chest, how his fingers slowly traced your abdomen down to inside your bottoms, his fingers covered by you slick coat, adding the bit-test of pressure on you clit rubbing it in small circles. all you could focus on was the determination and how hot he looked like this.
jude untied the bows from your bottoms, freeing you completely. he felt like he would die any second, this was real and no turning back. he could’ve watched you all night like this. so sensitive with the smallest touch.the familiar burn in your tummy when he sunk into you with a forceful thrust, hips curling and rocking to pleasure waves of emotions, the heat between your legs as he talked you through it all. the flicker in his eyes when you moaned and begged his name, how your nails scratched against his back asking for more and more.
“you belong to me… don’t you forget that y/n…” he kissed you sloppy, pushing one last thrust and spilling into you. it wasn’t just one round, he made sure to take you against the wall, balcony, shower, and the small couch in his room, in many positions too. he wanted to savor the moment like he imagined. this was way better than his dreams and thoughts in his head. you were so tight, so wet, very much made exactly for him.
the heavy weight on top you made you wake up early. you were used to waking up this early, but not with a hot body on top of you. with one eye barely open you looked at the digital clock, showing just before 7am, the whole house quiet. you looked around before your eyes landed on a sleepy jude, tucked between your arm and head nuzzled into your neck.
your heart raced, not being able to control your confused and guilty emotions. last night was real then? not a sick dream in your head or a movie, it had happened here in his room. “oh shit…” you whispered, chest sinking down as your controlled your breathing. you had to get out, feeling a tad stuck and rushed in space. this wasn’t supposed to happen… even though it felt so right. so meant to be.
you had managed to sneak jude to his back without waking him up. his lips pursed and brown drawn in, breathing heavy. you changed quickly back to your bikini, leaving the room how you had remembered. you ran a hand against your hair, the need to throw water in your face to cool the warmth in your cheeks. you weren’t used to this. you never did one night stands or had friends with benefits relationships. if that’s even what it was.
you couldn’t help but think maybe jude was lying to just get into your pants. you had seen how jude was like when around other woman. but you weren’t other woman. you we’re y/n. the shy but outgoing, smart but naive, and overly patient y/n. you didn’t want it be like them, or seen like them either. all you could think of was him. his brown eyes and stupid gentlemen demeanor.
you avoided him anywhere he was or walked in. the only way you could escape and let go of things was this. you weren’t used to this and didn’t have much experience so you did what you were best at which was ignore jude. but even your friends had noticed you were off and that there was a glow to you. drawing attention from everyone and the person who caused it all.
a small part of you did have a twinge of faith… what if he wasn’t lying? what if everything he proved to you last night was exactly how he felt? what if he was madly in love with you? that you were the woman of his dreams? that it wasn’t just sex and there was raw emotions included?
the ghost feeling against your back made you shiver, realizing it was jude who stood behind you, locking you with both arms extending out to cage you in as you cut up fruit. “you left me this morning,” jude spoke into your ear, feeling your weight shift from one foot to another. “i didn’t want anyone to catch us,” you say shaky, making up a lie knowing part of it was true.
“you’re lying to me…”
“am not. let me go… i-i-i need to bring this outside.”
“you are darling, you think i didn’t notice? you can’t even look at me without talking to me, and you’ve ignored me the whole day thinking i haven’t realized that,” jude let you go but followed behind you speaking a little louder. “lower your voice! i haven’t said anything to anyone!” you hiss, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the pool room. “what is it you want from me?” you say pleading.
“i want you! i thought i made that clear last night. not just with sex, but with my confession? before we fell asleep? don’t tell me you forgot that,” you shook your head. “i’m just having trouble to process all this, jude… i feel like we’re making a huge mistake…”
“to whom? to our friends? or to you?” jude asked sincerely. you always seemed to put them first over yourself and jude noticed that. “why would it be a mistake? if at the end of the day what we have is real…”
“jude it’s been one night together between us! look at us now! i can’t risk our group falling if we don’t work out jude! it’s not fair to them, to me and you!” you tried to reason but jude shook his head. he stood up from where he leaned, his broad frame over towering yours again.
“why are you so adamant we won’t work? we’ve barely been given a shot here! you’re overthinking it y/n. they don’t have to know a single thing pretty girl, not unless you don’t want them too.but for once think of what you want and your heart desires. not what your friends say. forget them and for once think about yourself,” jude spoke, grabbing your hands.
“i want us to work more than anything y/n. i’m not lying to you and have never gave you the reason either. i’m a good man y/n. just let me in here,” he poked your heart, seeing a sad smile appear on your face. “we can’t be so quick to judge without even trying! why is it so hard to do that? i just want to be with you, i’ve suffered enough as it is already,” jude was pleading, wanting to do anything to keep you here with him.
“and if we do and i lose you jude? people have walked in and straight out of my life. what if we try and it’s going so well just for us to part? i can’t handle losing someone else i love,” you whimper, tears of exhaustion and pain let out. “imagine me now and then? i’ve always thought what’s best for myself and i’m just confused jude… why me?” your voice sounded strained and from another dimension.
“why not you? you’re perfect y/n. anyone who thinks other wise must have been dropped into their head. you have everything that makes me so drawn to you… your eyes… your smile… your way of being… your hair… your everything. you’re everything i want and i’m willing to prove that to you however you ask. just let me be the man you need pretty girl…” jude rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your jaw as you began to fall deeper into this new wave and world with him.
“no one knows. just me and you jude,” you kissed him feverently. the aching burn in your chest as he kissed you with such devotion and power. you shivered beneath him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him closer. jude let out a small groan gripping your hips and pushing you to his lower body. there was no self-control here, no professionalism. he quickly became your favorite taste, and feeling. just two humans brought together in the most correct and soulmate way.
two humans who had no idea what was ahead of them.
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kinktober prompt 5: monsterfucking ft. Leon Kennedy
word count: 6.1k || Post re4 Plagas Lord Leon
warnings: dead dove: do not eat. monsterfucking, fingering, cunnilingus, plaga leon kennedy, tentacles, scorpion tail
summary: your mission is simple enough. bring Agent Kennedy back.
Your mission is simple.
Well, simple enough.
You're sent off back to the outskirts of Spain, off to find Agent Leon Kennedy, told that you are to retrieve him at all costs — even if all that was left of him was his jacket. You find that the branch needs him, considering that the president's daughter herself had been crying for them to save him. You're not one to say no when they're offering you more money than you could see in your life. What are you in the face of money when it comes to capitalism?
You're dropped off in a... village, and while the majority of the villagers have seemed to have grown a lot more welcoming compared to the intel that Hunnigan had provided, you're still on your toes, tilting your head, waving no to the strange delicacies they provide for you. You ask them if they happen to know an American, and they tell you no, pointing that maybe you should as their Lord about it. Whatever weird cult that was once set up has been disassembled, though everyone still looks very much... scary. At least you aren't being attacked by what Leon was getting attacked by.
You're handed a pack of gum by one of the guys with a chainsaw.
...okay.
Another man with a... cow head leads you past the mansion and into the route that leads to the castle, handing you off to a moving knight suit, your footsteps light behind him as he takes you around the outside and eventually to the welcome room. It? He? The knight nods at you, leaving you alone in the room as you glance up, hooded figure greeting you, your hand on your gun as you hold your breath.
"What brings you here?"
"You guys seen... an American?"
You watch as the man pulls off his hood, and your breath catches in your throat.
"...Agent Kennedy."
You try and do the math of just how Leon could end up like this, only remaining human features the blue eyes and faux blonde hair that you had been given a photo of. Purple streaks through his body and face, and though you can't see what's under his robe, you're sure that whatever the hell he's been infected with isn't just... the purple on his body. He's also, like, incredibly hot, whatever that means. You would curse yourself for such a thought, but to be fair, Hunnigan said it first.
"Agent." He nods. "Am I being retreived?"
"That is my order, yes. The first daughter misses you."
"It is a shame. I can not leave." He hums. "The villagers are tied to me."
"What? Are you going to try and sell me this immortality thing? They don't really expect me to go back, anyway." You tap your chin. "How's life here?"
"We make do."
"Please tell me you're actually eating edible things and not... whatever it is the villagers offered me earlier. Everything seems infected."
"You won't be able to eat anything here. I suggest you return."
"Truly?" You raise a brow. "Does money exist as a concept here?"
"Not quite. Unless you want a gun from the merchant."
"Can I eat anything?"
"The water is infected with the virus, and such is everything else. Though, there is a sanctuary in the castle with fish safe to eat."
"Raw?"
"You can try cooking it, though, it will not do you much better."
"What's my selection of food?" You raise a brow.
"Eggs, chicken, and fish. Specifically, bass."
You tap your chin. "Nothing else?"
"If you go fishing out on the coast, perhaps you will find something." He hums.
"Are there... herbs?"
"You get three colors."
"What the hell?"
"I will show you. Let me descend—"
You hear some of the servants yell for him to stay up top, but he ignores them, opening the doors on the bottom as he nods for you to follow him, and you trail after, catching glance of a... tail that reminds you an eerie much of a scorpion, but you don't speak up on it. You follow him through some sort of a room, glancing at the servants as they turn the wheel, and you catch a glance of the back of Leon's head... bumps visible. You're not too sure if you want to think too much about it. To be fair, you're not a monsterfucker, but come on.. for Leon? Christ, what are you thinking?
You follow him out to a garden, glancing at the herbs grown, head tilting as he explains how it works and how there's a lack of the feeling of hunger, grinding it and holding it out to you, brow raised.
"What do I drink? What water can I drink?"
"The fountain." He points at the fountain, letting you step up to it and drink from it, pleasantly surprised when you find that it's not disgusting. You wonder if there's some sort of weird magic in this little plot in the middle of the castle. Yet, you continue drinking, filling your pouch as you follow Leon, letting him give you a tour of the place. It's in a lot better shape than what Ashley had described to you, and you follow Leon to the back area to the throne room. It's a little... lacking in functionality, having a knight room, a ballroom the size of a football field, a nice library but somehow no bedroom. Do they not sleep?
"You're still human, so you'll be sleeping, and I'll have the servants arrange for a bed for you."
"Do you not sleep?"
"No."
"Is the skin... from the plaga?"
"Yes."
You purse your lips. The skin of a killer, Leon. You have the skin of a kille— You slap a hand over your mouth when a laugh escapes you.
He raises a brow.
"Sorry." You mumble. "I'm supposed to take this seriously, I know."
"You won't be able to stay here for long."
"No, they barely care, I think." You hum. "What do you do in your day to day?"
"Not much."
"Nothing at all?"
"I read in the library."
"Wow, they sure didn't tell me you're a reader in the report." You mumble.
"There isn't much else to do." He mumbles.
"Baking?"
"With what in the middle of Spain?"
"True, huh?" You huff. "A phone."
"It's 2006."
"Chess?"
"I keep winning."
"Wow, okay, wow." You huff. "Nothing else to do?"
"Shooting range."
"That's oddly... in the left field."
"Gets boring after you master the weapons."
"Um. Um. Um?????" You furrow your brows. "I'm out of ideas."
"Mhm. You sure you still want to stay?"
"Mm..." You pause to think. "Well, I mean... yeah, I'm out of ideas."
You're not telling Leon you want to jump his bones despite the weird bumps in the back of his head.
"So how does being a plaga work? Is it like... dogs? Wrong. Scorpions? Not that I would know."
"Would you like to visit the lab?"
"Depends. Does it include those freaks with insane jiggle physics?" You pause. "Ashley warned me about them."
"Regenerators." He nods. "They won't do anything with me there."
"You don't need servants?" You tilt your head. "Or does the infection give you an insane buff?"
"I am the lord of the island now. No one can go against my word." He holds a hand out to help you onto the lift, and you take it, surprised at how cold he is.
"You're so cold."
"It is the plaga."
You follow him to the other part of the island, passing just about everything humanly possible, down to the lab where the plaga had been created, reading through the files that "Luis" had left behind, details of how the amber had been procured and everything else. Leon sits on the bed behind you, watching you tilt your head and mumble to yourself, flipping through the entirety of the journal.
"This doesn't explain behavior." You huff. "Do impulses change?"
"Luis didn't have much time to study that." He watches as you turn around, tilting your head as you stare at Leon. "What?"
"Somehow, the plaga didn't change your face like it usually does." You hum. "What changes behavior wise?"
"I do not hunger anymore. Well, occasionally for flesh, but not as much since I hold the dominant species."
"That's awfully... I'm not gonna say it."
"Yes, it does have BDSM undertones." Leon shakes his head. "Since I am the dominant species, I also have a mating season."
You jump in your skin at the casual confession.
"Typically, I kick all the servants out and tear down a room in the castle." He raises a brow at you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
You raise a brow, licking your lips as you shrug. "Just curious. Our entire unit always thought you were quite the looker, you know?"
"They weren't quiet with it. Does the body horror not phase you?"
"Not quite as much as you'd expect it to." You go back to Luis' journal. "Ah, you transform when you mate."
"Slightly. The robe comes off and the tail stays out, not to mention the tentacles on my back."
You raise a brow as you try and imagine that.
"Tentacles?"
"They grow out of my back. Think of it like fairy wings, only instead of wings, it's tentacles."
"Ah, so like the guy you defeated before sending the president's daughter back." You pause to think. "How interesting. Was it on purpose?"
"The plaga just happened to develop that way."
"Can I... see?" You raise a brow, surprised when Leon ditches the robe nearly immediately, causing you to throw the book in front of your eyes. You open an eye to look at his back, glad to see that he's at least somewhat clothed underneath, only lacking a shirt. You glance at the tentacles, letting him turn back to face you as he moves them. You reach for one carefully, slimy and strange against your hand, watching as it curls around your arm, free hand reaching to touch it and grab its end, observing the ends, blinking at it when you realize it's truly just an octopus' tentacle without the suction.
Though, Leon watches you, eyes dark and smile on his face, a strangely threatening vibe coming from him as you play with the tentacle, letting it squeeze your arm gently, tip tapping your finger as you tilt your head, shaking it to have it let go. He complies, reaching for the robe, wondering if he has sated your curiosity. Yet, when he finds that you're still staring at him, he wonders just what you're curious about. It seems the government hadn't told you that the last agent sent had been eaten alive by him during mating season. Quite the opposite from how nature would have it, but still perhaps a warning.
They must really want him home.
"What?"
"Do you have fangs?"
"My canines are sharper, but not fangs." He bares his teeth for you, making not move to push you off as you step up to stare at him.
He could swallow you whole.
"Can I touch?"
"Be careful. They're still sharp."
Your hand reaches for the corner of his mouth, pushing his upper lip upward and bottom lip downward, opening your own mouth out of instinct to stare at his. He can feel your breath on his, watching as you crane your neck further to stare at his teeth, swapping your thumb with your index as your thumb brushes at it. He worries that he'll cut you on accident, but you don't seem to care, licking your upper teeth as he copies you instinctually, tongue sticking out and surprising you.
"Lizard tongue."
"Correct." He hums. "Scary?"
"Surprising." You let go, taking two steps back as you pick the journal back up. "Well, obviously it'd be rude of me to ask you how genitals work or have changed, and looking from Luis' journal, nothing much has changed."
"Does the government know you aren't going back?"
"There isn't any signal in the castle. Shouldn't you know?" You tilt your head.
He smiles. "It's been a while. I left Ashley with the communicator."
"I figured." You flip to the final two pages of the journal, blinking up at Leon as you step behind him, observing the bumps on his head. "You can control the villagers?"
"That's how the dominant plaga works." He nods.
"Do you control libido?"
"Is that any question to be asking someone you just met?"
"Apologies." You hold both hands up, flipping to the final page. "How fun. Mating season's close."
"What month is it?"
You smile. "Happy September."
Despite it all, you find that Leon's pleasing to be around, English not forgotten, snap of his fingers holding more power than anything else, showing you around the maze and the dogs, hand held in front of you calmly as he scolds the dog, and you watch in awe as it imitates a whimper, tail tucked between its legs as Leon lowers himself to ruffle its fur. You're not allowed to touch it in case the plaga infects you, but you have a fun time watching as Leon shows you how the door unlocks itself. Though, he tells you it remains unlocked now that you have the need of hopping from one side to the other in order to access your food.
The fish isn't all that bad either.
You get used to it surprisingly fast, no food poisoning in sight when Leon shows you how to prepare it raw, brow raised amusedly when it happens.
You also find ways to entertain the two of you, hiding behind pillars to play hide and seek in the ballroom, running around the halls to play tag, most of which has you questioning if life has really gotten to this point, but not enough that you would stop. You also play chopsticks with Leon, occasionally helping out the servants in bathing him. Leon checks for scrapes and unhealed wounds before you do, fingers gentle on your skin as he lets you sit with him in the bath, your fingers gentle and the soap on your hands as you play with the tentacles.
He wonders if you don't seem to mind that he's nude.
You've brought more entertainment since arriving anyway, letting his tentacles play with you as the servants tend to his skin.
"I'm surprised you haven't gotten disgusted yet."
"It's just some tentacles." You scoop the water in the bucket to rinse his back. "Not super scary once you get used to it. Luis' journal definitely helped too."
"Mm." He hums. "You ever learned ballroom dancing?"
"No." You pause. "Well, if you count that one lesson I got as an Agent for that one undercover mission, then yes, but other than that, no."
"You got that too?"
"Yeah. It was one of my first missions." You let go of the tentacles as Leon retracts them, waving at them as Leon dismisses the rest of the servants.
"Would you dance in the ballroom?"
"Well, we could do that, but with what music?"
"Silence."
"My dead phone?"
"We can charge it."
"My half-broken mp3, a CD, and a dream."
"I can send someone to buy one."
"When they look like that?"
"You'd be surprised at how little some of the neighboring cities care."
"Well, there wouldn't be speakers either. It's alright. We can dance in silence."
"Nothing else?"
"Not that we really need anything else." You tap your chin, making the motion to step out of the tub to dry yourself off.
If you notice the way Leon stares at you when you do, you don't make mention of it.
"So? Dancing tomorrow?"
"Why not tonight?"
"Oh, under the stars? I didn't peg you to be such a romantic, Leon." You raise a brow. "I'm not in clothes suitable for dancing, you know?"
"You don't need a skirt for that."
"Didn't say a skirt." You step out of the room to let the servants dress him, staring out the window as you stare at Leon's room. Lack of bedrooms, yet somehow still a room with a bed. Two rooms, considering that yours is just across. Though, this is more of a formality. He has a nest, for all you seem to understand. The bed is for when he needs some rest... and for when you complain about your back hurting in that other bed. You don't know.
You settle yourself on his duvet to stare into nothing as you wait for him to get dressed.
You need to touch grass — real grass. Not whatever was by the fountain where you would fetch your own food. Leon seems adamant about keeping you human despite your lack of resistance to the idea of getting infected. You're starting to think the villagers' stew might actually taste somewhat good, but you're not risking anything. Maybe all you'll think about when you're infected is how to serve Leon. Would you be a regular handmaiden then? You're not too sure. He seems to enjoy having a human in the house. Maybe he was a freak like that.
You thank the servant when she drapes a blanket over you.
"Let's go." Leon offers a hand, and you tilt your head.
"Oh, you were serious."
"If you're cold, we can move back here to dance too."
"Very well." You tuck the blanket around you like a shawl, taking his hand as he squeezes it. You wonder just what dancing has to do with whatever has happened, impromptu question leading you to be back in the garden with Leon, his hand on your waist as you sway with him under the moon. You wonder if there's a reason behind this. Is there? Is he just bored to the point that he would resort to recreating one of your first classes in the command for nostalgia?
"Is this mating related—"
"I'm surprised you caught on so fast." Leon spins you gently, humming. "Yes."
"For the plaga or for scorpions?"
"Typically scorpions, but occasionally plaga. The submissive species doesn't need to do a courtship dance to please the bug."
"And you do?" You sneeze after, sniffling. "Can we go in? May we? Please, Lord Leon?"
He shakes his head, pressing your hand to his lips.
"Gotta kiss you so the bug's pleased."
"Are tentacles going to come out of your mouth."
"No." He shakes his head. "Are you into that?"
"Can't say. Never tried." You press your palm to his cheek, giving him a quick kiss. "Will that suffice?"
"We will see."
Leon grows increasingly more protective of you as the month progresses. You consult Luis' research to find out what it is, unsurprised that it's mating-related, but worried that it would mean that Leon had the chance of consuming you. You wonder if he cums sperm pouches like actual scorpions. That would be quite a situation to be in. Though, you wouldn't be surprised if just decided to lock himself in the clock tower during mating season for his people's sake. The villagers seem to like him a lot.
You bite on the end of the herb, mocking a bow with an imaginary cowboy hat, tilting your head when one of the castle workers point out at the gate.
"Mating season?" You tilt your head.
He tilts his head.
"...animales." You pause. Maybe you shouldn't have spaced out in high school Spanish.
He nods, gesturing at the gate, reaching for your wrist as you catch a flash, the man yelling in agony.
You look to the side... raising a brow.
Ah. Leon.
This is not... only shirtless. He seems to have evolved as well.
You wave the servant off, staying still as Leon stares you down, undressing you with his eyes, smiling with way too many teeth for comfort. You glance at the way that he's got more than one scorpion tail, only humanoid part of him his face and somewhat... human-looking legs. You wonder when he had decided you were to be his mate, watching as the tentacles are much more visible, skin bare and clothes practically ripped. He seems to have sized up as well. Your neck almost hurts from looking at him.
"What's going in? Is this your mating form?" You don't move as the tentacle finds your waist, loosening your arms from its grip as it picks you up. You lift your legs out of instinct, bracing yourself as he bounces off from the ground, crawling through the opened clock tower and down to the place he had called his nest, the small area right before the opening to head to the labs. You're placed down gently as Leon sizes down back to what you're used to, collapsing on you as you glance at him.
"Apologies in advance."
"Huh—" You yell as he bites into your shoulder, drawing blood as you wince, struggling against his grasp as he pants.
"There you go."
Your nails dig into his shoulders for support, letting Leon settle you into the mattress that he's placed in the middle of his nest so kindly, pulling your own clothes off out of a fear that he would ruin it. There was little to wear in the castle that would fit you and wouldn't feel dirty on your skin, so you valued whatever you had come wearing. You toss everything to the side, breeze uncomfortable on your bare skin as Leon presses his lips to your jaw, quiet humming rumbling on your skin.
"You alright?"
"Are you always this gentle during mating?"
"No." He huffs. "I'm going to stop talking in a bit. The... bug is quite strong."
"Well, luckily for you, I'll do just about anything you ask me to." You hum, pressing your lips to his jaw, purring against him as he stares. "As long as you don't kill me."
"I'll stop the bug before it gets to do that." He purrs against you, prying your legs open as you stare down at him, relaxing your body as he opens his mouth, tongue rolling out as he moves his tentacles to slide around your legs, lips pressed to your clit as he sucks, earning a whimper from you. You reach for something to grab onto, nails digging into the mattress as Leon closes his mouth over your pussy, tongue darting between your folds slithering its way in your walls, your breath choking past your lips as you wince, yelping as you feel his tongue brush against your cervix gently, Leon retracting it a little for the sake of your body.
It wasn't as if mating season was one day. It was a while, even if he was able to control his urges for the most part, he wouldn't want to hurt you or wear you out first day. So, he settles with swirling his tongue in you, which you squirm over, unused to such a feeling, but quickly replaced with muffled moans as he finds a proper pace, hands now clawed as he holds you down by the waist, tentacles holding your legs in place as you squirm. You whimper at the feeling of his claws on top of his tongue, hands flying to your face as your back arches, seeing white as you gush on his tongue, quiet cries from your lips as he sucks, tilting your hips up to lick at the rest of your cum dripping, tongue licking his face as he blinks up at you.
"Still good?"
"Mmm." You pause. "Will you fit?"
"We're going to need more than just one if you want me inside, sweetheart."
You try your best at a pout, sighing as you relax yourself back into the mattress, biting your cheek as he slides a finger inside with ease, texture catching you off guard, Leon's name flying past your lips as he leans over to kiss your cheek, cooing into your ear as he lets you grow adjusted to the feeling of his finger inside. You let Leon know to loosen his grip on your legs, letting you set them down as he presses his chest to yours, nipping on your ear as he finally moves his finger.
You curl yourself against him, voice breathy and patchy as he does, his breath in your ear as he hums quietly. Vibrations to soothe you, you suppose, but it won't do much if your head is already clouded. You let him take his time, finger textured in you, free hand resting on your lower abdomen, sitting up as you whimper, head thrown back as he curls his finger in you. It feels foreign, and though you shouldn't be surprised, you find yourself with your head thrown back and nails in the mattress, whimper spilling past your lips as his thumb finds your clit, gentle circles drawn with your bundle of nerves as you tremble.
At one point, he's tilting your head to kiss him, glass-stained eyes and half-lidded eyes earning a groan from Leon's lips, pretty head lost in something long forgotten. You wonder what it'd feel like while infected, but you're sure Leon would rather die to your hand than find out. Besides, the post-sex clarity would hit eventually, though not that it would matter to you at any point. His lips are bitter against yours, and your judgment has long been clouded, whining into his mouth at the feeling of a second finger, stretching you out. Your mouth opens almost instinctively, whining as he nips at your jaw.
"Feel good?"
"Mm." You mumble, eyes closing as he hums.
"Good girl."
Your head spins deliciously from his voice, fingers mean against your cunt as you whine, other hand finding your back, chest flush against yours as he laps at the bite from earlier, cooing into your ear when you tighten around him, your hands flying to find anything to hold onto, nails digging into his shoulders as he draws another one out of you, cheeks warm with your tears as he licks at it. Despite everything, he's still cooing in your ear, sliding his fingers out of you with a squelch ashe presses them to your lips.
"Come on, pretty baby."
You part your lips apprehensively, tongue stuck out as he rests his fingers on it, watching you as you swirl your tongue around it, arousal pooling further in your legs as your eyes roll back. You feel dirty, whimpering around his fingers as he shifts his hips to press his errection against your clit, fabric of his pants rough against your nub as you squirm. He rolls it against you a second time until he finds that the bug in his chest is far too impatient to wait, licking his fingers to stretch you out one last time, laying you back onto the plush to free his cock from the confines of his pants. The bug's ringing gets louder as it would, Leon furrowing his brows as you tilt your head at him.
"Plaga."
"Does it want me dead?"
"No." He whispers, lining his hips with yours, sighing. "If it hurts, there's a knife to the side."
You glance at where he points, and you nod. "Will it hurt?"
"Doesn't matter. It'll wake me."
You nod slowly.
You tilt your hips as Leon slides in slowly, size dizzying for your head, breath stuck in your throat as you shift against him to get used to the sizing. The tentacles hold you in place and wrap around your waist, his hand finding yours to ground you as you gasp for air, lightheaded and ditzy as his thumb brushes the side of your navel. You wonder if he's waiting for some sort of affirmation to move, as you reach up for his neck, ignoring the way his skin brushes against your arms.
Leon doesn't speak anymore, opting to just fuck you instead, snap of his hips into yours rough as you gape for air, arms around his neck as his hips buck into yours relentlessly, giving you no space for air as you cling onto him instead, body tense and chest pressed to his as you close your eyes. The lack of words makes the sound of his skin against yours alarming, but you hear his breath in your ear, enough to ground you to a certain extent. His size is hard to get used to, your head ringing each time he thrusts up into you, tentacles sliding down your waist alongside his hands. It feels weird.
Yet, your back arches as he lifts himself off of you slightly, hand moving down to press down on where he would be inside of you, lightning jolting up your spine as you whimper, pressure making your head spin, texture sending your head into a spiral. He lets out a grunt in approval as you tighten around him from the gesture, your breath stuck in your throat still. Any longer and you would be gone, you fear. Yet, the asphyxiation is sickeningly delicious to your head, too blissed out to care if this is how you'll go out. You wonder if this is how all of the girls feel when it's mating season and Leon has to fuck something.
There's a lack of skin and a texture of his hand now, starting to feel colder, and when you peer open an eye to look, Leon's fingers are mostly gone, replaced with darker claws. You wonder if this is an effect of the plaga, too heaven-struck to care, moving your head back to look at him, red eyes catching you off guard as he angles himself to brush your g-spot, eyes rolling back with a whine from your lips.
You'd make a joke about how it's giving 2013 Harry Styles Wattpad fanfiction, but in the state that you're in, you can hardly get the thought to form. His claws dig into your waist and draw blood, wounds fresh on your waist as you hiss, whimpering as Leon opens his mouth to bite your jaw, your head spinning. Too much. It's too much. You cum without warning, mouth open and eyes wide as you struggle under him, walls raw and sensitive from the taste of ecstasy, white stuck in your vision as you cry. Your legs squirm as Leon forces his chest further into you, hands flying for anything you can grab, one hand nailing into his back as the other finds a tail. Namely, the scorpion tail, and you tug on it, earning Leon's gasp and an immediate orgasm. The tentacles tighten around you as warmth sticks to your walls and he gasps, eyes blue nearly immediately, collapsing on top of you as you blink, wide-eyed at the revelation.
Fuck the fact that you just saw white and had the best orgasm of your life, did Leon just cum from his tail being pulled on?
You heave as Leon pulls himself off and out of you, head thrown back as he sits up, blinking slowly as you blink up at him.
"What happened?"
You give him a sly little grin, climbing on top of him as you shimmy to get the tentacles off of you, Leon complying as you take the knife, pressed to his throat as he tilts his head back, raising a brow as you reach for his tail, giggle on your lips as you stroke it. Leon squirms under your hand, and you hum.
"That's what happened."
His hands find your waist, running them up and down as he blinks at you.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine." You nod. "You?"
"You should get water." He rasps.
"Your throat doesn't sound any better."
"It's fine." He whispers. "I can live without it."
You reach over him for your pouch, unscrewing it as you press the water to your lips, swallowing it as you wipe at your mouth, free hand finding his jaw as you force it open.
"Swallow."
Leon sticks his tongue out for the water, swallowing as you command, licking his lips as you reach over to put the water back. He takes the chance to rest his hands on your back, tongue finding your chest as he sucks, free hand pinching at the other one as you whimper, lashes fluttering. You hold yourself still, fingers finding his hair as he swirls his tongue. You try and get off of him, fingers tightening around his hair as he holds you still, biting down on your nipple gently, teeth grazing the buds as you shiver.
"Leon."
He hums against your skin, raising a brow as you look down at him, pulling yourself back up as he lets go of you.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you still?"
"It's a continual process." He whispers. "Until I am satiated."
"Will it be soon?"
"Just one more for me." He hums. "I'll let you rest after it."
You agree begrudgingly, letting him press his fingers into you again, looking much more human than before, tail still evident and tentacles still looming over you, but his body looks far more human than you have ever seen. He looks like his picture again, you think. You find it a little strange to see a lack of purple in his veins, taking the chance to press your thumb to them as he breathes quietly.
"You're human."
"Not often." He whispers. "Can I have you again?"
"I agreed when I danced with you, Leon." You whisper. "Have me all you want. Kill me if you want to."
"I won't."
"I know you won't." You whisper.
Leon kisses at your jaw again, whispers gentle in your ear as he holds you, careful to not cut you with his claws as he holds your head.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No." You whisper back. "Your claws hurt, but <i>you</i> didn't hurt me."
"You ought to stab me next time." He brushes the wound on your hips.
"Quite a domestic turn, huh?" You laugh as Leon slides his pointer down to curl inside of you, claws uncharacteristically sharp yet gentle inside of you. You shift your hips, curious as to what Leon could possibly need to check with his finger when you've got his cum dripping out your pussy, his finger squelching with each movement he makes.
"Yes." He mumbles. "Can't have you dying on me."
"Is the plaga sated?"
"More than sated." He slides his finger out, lips pressed to your shoulder gently as he hums. "So just me this time, alright?"
"Of course." You let him shift until you're lined up, letting you lower yourself onto him as you adjust to the size. Too big, still. You wrap your arms around his neck and flutter around him, earning a groan from Leon.
The tip of his cock sits snug against your cervix, your body trembling as you become aware of it. You hadn't felt it earlier from how hard your head was spinning, but you try not to think about it, lashes fluttering as you hold him to your chest his face smushed between your tits as he glances down at where the two of you connect. You <i>swear</i> you feel him twitch inside of you.
"You alright?"
He muffles back an affirmative, rolling his hips against yours gently. His arms wrap around your waist as he thrusts up into you, staring up from your chest as he drinks in the way your brows furrow. He's careful not to scratch you more, fingers curled into fists against your back instead of out, angling his hips to brush all your sensitive spots, the drag of his cock inside of you drunkening. You babble his name and roll it off your tongue like a devotion, vision spotty as he holds your arms on your back, you name stumbling past his own lips like a broken prayer.
There's a wondering if you should be devoting yourself to Leon, taking him as your lord, taking him as your savior. You wouldn't be against it, eyes closing and brows furrowing as you feel him twitch inside of you, speeding up to chase his own high as one of his fingers finds your clit. He sends you tumbling down first, body shaking in his grasp as the coil in your back snaps, gushing and trembling around Leon as he chases his own high, pretty praises easy on his lips for you. Your head spins as he spills into you once more, arms tightening around you as he does.
His forehead rests on your chest, and your vision clears as you stare up at the ceiling.
"You back?"
The feeling of circles on your lower back brings you back to reality.
"Mm." You hum. "Spinny."
"Do you want your bed?"
"Is the castle empty?"
"Always is this season. I only brought one here because it's where I spend mating season."
"I thought you tore rooms down."
"Stopped doing that after a while." He hums. "Do you want to go back?"
"'m too sleepy." You let him set you back down on the bed, your fingers gentle against his face as you look at him. "Night, Leon."
"Sleep well, sweetheart."
When Leon's sure you've knocked out, he sends a tentacle over to grab your device, stepping away from you and setting you down from his arms, stepping outside of the ballroom to the dock, radio pressed to his ear as he glances at the boat. The night breeze rustles his hair, and he feels more human than he has in the past years. Hunnigan did him right for once.
"Hey."
"She alright?"
"In one piece." He exhales. "Send some liquor in the next shipment."
"If she's not dead, then we won't need to send anything else."
He glances at the boat. "He's turned docile."
"You can get rid of him."
"I'd need her to be awake for that."
"Is she out?"
"Just sleeping."
"Wake her."
"Can't. Drew too much out of her."
"First time you've actually used a recruit, huh? Glad I can just mark her as MIA and not dead for once. Will you back once it's out?"
"Mm, most likely not. I'm getting used to life here. They think I'm dead, don't they?"
"They don't know."
"Keep it that way. Mark her as dead too."
The voice goes silent on the line.
"Get us some new passports and identities, and we'll go back."
"We?"
"A dead man can't marry, Hunnigan."
"That's awfully quick of you."
"Not taking my chances. No one just falls in love unconditionally like that."
"Well, aren't you lucky."
A chuckle.
"So?"
"I'll see what I can do."
#☾.nsfw#☾.kinktober#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#reader insert#resident evil#☾.fics#don't ask me what was going through my head while writing this i do not know all i knew that this awakened smth in me. anyways
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More CEORRY smut pls! He’s so HAWT🥵🥵
Got Me Right Where You Want Me*
warnings: smut, swearing, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding, exhibitionism
summary: YN and Harry spend a day on the golf course together, but she won’t make it easy for him
pairing: ceo harry x reader
wc: 5.4k
masterlist | harry styles masterlist | requests open
a/n: i’ve decided i’m gonna try and post a oneshot every friday (key word is TRY😭) and i’ll probably do blurbs in between
~
Fresh out of the shower with wet hair and a towel around his waist, Harry steps into his and YN’s shared bedroom, humming the tune of the song he’d been listening to. His eyes instantly travel to his wife, who is freshly showered as well, still sitting in the exact same spot she was in when he went to shower. He rolls his eyes fondly as he watched her scroll through her emails with just a towel around her, the cutest look of concentration adorning her face.
Making his way to her, he sits down next to her, and she looks up at him with a soft smile. Returning her smile, he leans forward and presses his lips to hers sweetly. She melts into him and frowns when they pull away, making him chuckle at her.
“Do you want to come with me to the course today?” he questions, standing from the bed and heading to the closet. YN is slightly confused, as he’s never asked her to accompany him before.
“I mean, of course, but what’s the occasion?“ she asks, standing up as well and heading to her side of the closet. Her eyes skim over her clothes as she awaits his answer, a sigh leaving her when she realizes she’d left her white tennis skirt at their London home the last time they visited.
“Just miss you,” he responds, sitting down on his ottoman to pull his shirt over his head. “Been busy all week and we haven’t really had any time together,” he finishes timidly, making YN laugh quietly at him.
Walking over to him, she leans over him and places her hands on his chest. “We’ve been together for ten years and you’re still afraid to admit you love me?” she questions. “I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of me or something,” she teases, heading back to her space to find an outfit.
Harry tuts at her, a frown tugging at his lips. “Oh, shut the fuck up. You know m’not ashamed of you. Never have been, never could be,” he retorts, pulling his pants up before sliding his feet into his shoes.
She laughs heartily at her husband, sitting down to start moisturizing her skin. “Yeah, I bet you can’t be. Especially not when you cried like a baby at our wedding in front of all your tough guy friends,” she teases, making him scoff in mock offence.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he laughs, pushing her shoulder playfully before standing up to loop his belt into his pants. “I still think you’re the one who leaked those pictures,” he mutters, making her double over in laughter at the memory behind the accusation.
He makes his way from the closet with a dimpled grin on his face, headed to the garage to get his clubs. “I’m ready whenever you are, gonna be in the Range Rover,” he calls, and she nods in agreement although he can’t see her.
Standing back up, she skims her closet once more, dragging her finger along each item of clothing as she tries to decide what to wear. She knows it’s nearly 100°F in LA, so she needs something that’ll keep her cool.
Her eyes land on a purple, thin, tennis dress, and her face lights up as it’s absolutely perfect. It matches Harry’s shirt almost perfectly, and it’s thin enough to keep her cool out in the summer heat.
Taking it off the hanger, she smiles as she notices just how short it is, and knowing that it will be even shorter once it’s on her body. She slides on a decides against a bra, knowing it’ll be uncomfortable in the material and she can use it to her advantage anyways.
She immediately slips the dress over her head before deciding on some plain white sneakers and putting on some jewelry and perfume before heading out of the closet and down to the car where Harry is waiting for her.
In no rush at all, she takes her time and makes her way down to the garage, anticipating Harry’s reaction. She closes the door behind her and slips into the car without a word, buckling her seatbelt.
Harry’s eyes are practically burning her skin with how hard he’s staring, and she doesn’t even have to look at him to know that his eyes are bulging out of his head.
Turning to look at him, she puts on a look of faux confusion as she eyes him. “Are you okay?” she questions innocently, placing her arm on his bicep.
Her touch seems to snap him out of the trance, and he clears his throat with a small nod before pulling out of the garage and heading down the road. A small smirk plays on YN’s lips as they make the drive there, loving how fidgety Harry is beside her. She can clearly see his jaw clench every time he spares her a glance before swallowing thickly, his Adam’s Apple straining against the skin of his throat.
When the two are sat at a red light, YN decides to take it a step further. Reaching over, she places a hand on his thigh and feels the thick muscle twitch beneath her palm. Harry glares at her for a split second before the light turns green, his eyes snapping back to the road ahead.
A sigh of relief passes through his lips when he sees the familiar greenery of their country club’s golf course, ready to get out of the car that’s so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. He practically speeds into his reserved parking spot, throwing the car in park and leaning back to rest against the seat.
Still smirking, YN moves her hand from his thigh to the very prominent bulge in his slacks, grazing it gently. She’s filled with satisfaction when he inhales sharply and cuts his eyes to hers in anger.
Before he can retaliate, she’s slipping out of the car quickly, and he’s not even a little bit surprised when she ‘drops’ her visor on the ground outside the car only to bend down to pick it up.
His eyes are bulging out of his head once again as he has a full view of her barely covered ass, making him stifle a groan. He can’t even form any words to speak, not that he’d get a word in anyways as she closes the door and heads into the building, a smug smile on her face.
In the car, Harry’s mouth is agape as he recalls each event he’s gone through since he stepped out of his shower, palming his cock as he realizes her game. He’s so hard it hurts, but he tries his best to will the boner away, all while coming up with a plan to even the score.
~
Rolling her eyes in frustration, YN flips Harry the middle finger as he turns to look at her, a dimpled smile on his face. Sweat is glistening on his forehead, dripping down the side of his face in the humid LA heat, and YN is damn near dripping down her thighs as she watches him play.
Ever since Harry set foot into the country club with a dimpled grin on his face, YN knew she’d fucked up by teasing him the way she did. No matter how nervous she gets, though, she refuses to show it.
With each precise swing of his favourite club, Harry makes sure to flex his muscles extra hard, and groans extra loud when the ball doesn’t go as far as he’d like.
After each of these, he cuts his eyes to his wife who is trying to act like it’s not affecting her, but he can see through her tough act. Just the thought of her dripping into her panties but acting like she isn’t has his knees weak.
About three holes in, Harry decides to take a break and go inside the club for some much needed air. He hops onto his reserved golf cart beside his wife and leans over to give her a peck on the lips before driving toward the building.
His smirk is still very evident when he places his free hand on her thigh that’s closest to him, and YN thinks nothing of it as it is a normal gesture. When he moves his hand up higher to the bottom of her dress, her breath hitches and she whips her head to look at him as she realizes what he’s doing.
“You’re not funny, H,” she hisses, a scowl on her face as his fingers touch the crevice where her thigh and pelvis meet.
Harry scoffs out a sarcastic laugh at her comment before he speaks up. “Yeah, but it was funny when you did it, hm?” he retorts, making the sharp turn that leads them to the concrete road. The movement makes his hand graze right over her pussy, and the both of them gasp quietly at the feeling.
Smirking, Harry turns his head to her for a split second. “It’s not funny. I see,” he mutters. “‘s not funny because you’re dripping into your panties and you want me to do something about it, right?” he questions, pulling into the parking spot and killing the engine.
He doesn’t even give her time to answer before he’s pushing down right where her clit is, making her choke out a moan.
Just as she starts to buck her hips into his hand, he pulls away, laughing loudly as she whines in frustration. “Should’ve thought about that before you started this, Pet,” he teases, waiting for her to climb out of the cart and head inside.
He reaches his hand out for hers, but she angrily stoops past him, upset that he’s beat her at her own game. The action makes him laugh even harder, shaking his head at his prideful wife.
~
Once inside the club, Harry gruffly greets everyone he knows, ignoring the ogling women around him. He truly only has eyes for his wife, not even bothering to look their way. Each woman has their eyes on him as he steps in, confused as to why he stood waiting by the entrance.
All of their confusion quickly moulds into jealousy as they see a beautiful woman enter the building, a pretty dress on that is the same colour as Harry’s shirt. They each take note of how he smiles softly at her and wraps his arm around her waist to keep her close, a stark contrast to the way he interacts with others.
The club is silent as the two make their way to the bar, watching the way his arm never leaves her body. No one has ever seen YN, let alone the way he treats her differently than everyone else.
The two of them just end up getting waters, parched from the heat. Despite the fact that water is free there, Harry makes sure to slap two $100 bills onto the counter once they receive their drinks.
It’s no longer silent in the club, the onlookers going back about their day as the two are literally just drinking water. Once the two are all refreshed from the cold drinks, Harry places a ringed hand on YN’s thigh once again, making her jump slightly at the coldness of his palm.
She has to stifle a groan when he picks up where he left off earlier, toying with the edge of her panties before pulling them to the side and swiping a finger through her folds. The action has her eyes rolling into her head when he grazes her sensitive clit, and then he just pulls away.
YN groans in frustration at the teasing, leaning up to whisper in his ear angrily. “Okay, it’s not fucking funny anymore,” she grits out, making Harry’s eyes widen slightly in shock. “If you aren’t going to fuck me then stop fucking touching me,” she finishes, sitting up straight once more.
Turning her head, she looks at her husband and immediately knows she fucked up. His eyes have darkened and his jaw is clenched. Unsurprisingly, the sight only turns her on even more, and she has to squeeze her thighs together to try and relieve some of the throbbing between her legs.
“In the fucking bathroom. I want you bent over the sink with y’panties down,” he demands, pinching her clit slightly and making her whimper at the slight pain that shoots up her spine. “And don’t even think about touching yourself. You’re already in trouble,” he warns, snapping her panties back into place and taking another drink of his water.
She practically scrambles as she hurries to the family bathroom, doing as he says and hoping that no one comes in and sees her exposed this way.
It’s definitely been over ten minutes by the time she’s getting so desperate she can barely wait, and then the door swings open, making her tense. She hears a familiar hum of satisfaction from behind her, and she relaxes as it’s only her husband.
Closing the door behind him, he doesn’t take his eyes off of where she’s dripping for him, watching as a bit of her slick trails down her thighs with how desperate she is.
Stepping up behind her, he swipes a finger over the skin of her thigh and collects some of her arousal before bringing it to his lips. Looking up into the mirror, he finds her eyes as he brings his finger to his mouth.
Moaning at the taste, he watches as YN squirms in discomfort as he pussy throbs at the sight. No more words are exchanged as Harry unbuttons his pants and takes his cock out before using his palm to clean up some of her arousal.
YN is confused for a moment, but it doesn’t last long at all as she watches him wrap his hand around his cock and start to stroke it with her stick.
He groans in pleasure as she whines at the sight, unsure how much more she can take. “Please fuck me. Swear I’ll be good, Daddy. Just please,” she begs, finding his eyes in the mirror.
“Mm, I don’t know, pet,” he tsks, stepping forward and moving the head of his cock through he swollen folds. “You haven’t been on your best behaviour today, so I’m not sure if you deserve it,” he hums in faux thoughtfulness.
She’s near tears at this point, just desperate to feel him deep inside of her and stretching her out. “I swear I do, I didn’t meant it,” her eyes are still boring into his. “I’ll be such a good girl, just-,” she’s immediately cut off with a gasp that melts into a moan, as Harry decided to push his cock into her in one quick thrust.
Her hands are gripping the counter tightly as he bottoms out, her jaw dropped as she hears him groan behind her. She’s so fucking full of him, feeling each ridge and vein of his cock grazing her sensitive walls.
“Thank you. Thank you so much, Daddy,” she babbles, feeling the head of his cock pressed slightly against her cervix.
The slight pain has her head spinning, and he’s just pressed up against her as he lets her adjust. When she’s fully relaxed, she gives him a slight nod of permission to begin thrusting into her.
Harry wastes absolutely no time, pulling out until only the tip of him is resting inside of her before slamming back into her and burying himself to the hilt.
The force of the thrust sends her flying forward, a choked moan falling from her lips at the feeling. He repeats the action over and over, and she’s sure she’ll have bruises on her torso in the morning from how rough it is. But she wouldn’t change it, not at all. Especially not with the way he’s making her feel so good she can barely form a coherent sentence.
Cries and moans are accompanied by the sound of Harry’s hips hitting her ass with each thrust, giving everyone outside a mental image of exactly what’s going on behind the bathroom doors.
That thought doesn’t stop him, though. If anything, it gave him the motivation to keep up the pace, absolutely wrecking his wife. His fingers are digging into her hips as he pulls her back to meet each thrust as well as keeping her stable.
Removing one hand from her hip, he brings it down onto her backside harshly, listening to her cry out and feeling her clench around him. “Gonna cum?” he questions, watching as she squeezes her eyes shut and nods, ready to cum then and there.
Just as she’s about to fall over the edge, though, she feels her orgasm slipping away and she’s empty as Harry pulls out of her, stroking his cock furiously before sliding the tip back into her at the last moment and cumming inside her contracting walls with a throaty groan.
She whines in frustration, slamming her hand down onto the counter as she squeezes her shaking thighs together for some sort of stimulation.
She looks up at him questioningly, the sadness on her face almost making him feel bad. Almost. The remorse is quickly turned back into arousal as he sees his cum leaking from her and down her thighs a bit.
“Fuck,” he pants, tucking his cock back into his slacks. “I should make you sit out there in a puddle of my cum but I need you home so I can really take you,” he spits before spanking her ass once more.
She moans deeply at the sharp sting as he rubs the sore spot before pulling her panties back up. “Cmon, let’s get to the car,” he tells her, and she instantly obliges.
The two walk back out into the main area, ignoring the shocked looks of the other members as it’s very obvious what they were doing in the bathroom.
~
Once they’re back in the car, YN is still very angry at her mean husband, but at the same time she knows she deserved it for being a brat. She just didn’t think he’d deny her of an orgasm.
The radio is on in the car, and it’s the only sound they can hear beside the engine. YN’s arms are folded neatly in her lap as she tries to avoid more punishment, already knowing he’s angry.
“Pull y’panties down,” he demands suddenly, making YN look at him in shock before immediately doing what he requested as she takes in the firm look on his face. “Rub your clit a little. Just real soft and slow,” he tells her, eyeing her as she places one leg on the dashboard and passes him the panties.
She wastes absolutely no more time, bringing two fingers between her messy folds and then up to her swollen clit before rubbing slowly and softly, just as he’d told her to. The stimulation feels so good, and she squeezes her eyes shut and throws her head back against the seat as she tries not to speed her hand up.
“Would y’look at that,” he muses, basking in the sound of her breathy whines as he watches her tease herself. “Y’panties are all ruined, poor thing,” he smirks.
She cries out in frustration and pleasure as she circles her clit again, the slow torture only making her angry.
He hums in faux sympathy, looking over at her for a brief second. “Do y’need Daddy to take care of you?” he questions, smiling softly as she nods furiously. “Oh, Pet,” he tsks. “Should’ve thought about that, hm?” he continues. “Slap y’cunt five times. Hard. Then put your legs back down,” he finishes, making her groan at the demand.
She follows his orders immediately, the stinging pain of the slaps making her jump and cry out in pain. She doesn’t let up, though, finishing up the request before closing her legs tightly and fixing her dress once more.
Harry gives her a towel to clean his cum from her hand before they continue the drive in silence, YN anticipating what’s to come.
~
By the time they arrive at home, nervous isn’t the word to describe what YN is feeling, not in the slightest. She’s kind of shaky, but Harry places a warm hand on her thigh and calms her down, his gentle touch letting her know that there’s nothing to worry about. He will always take care of her.
Stepping out of the car with her panties in pocket, Harry walks around to the passenger door and helps her out, letting her go in front of him to punch in the code to get into their home.
He closes the door gently, taking his shoes off as she does the same. “You can take a seat on the couch, I’ll be back down after I take a shower,” he tells her before pressing a passionate kiss to her lips. Yet another gesture to let her know he isn’t too angry anymore.
She nods and does as he says, just scrolling on her phone for a few minutes until she hears a knock on the front door. Confusion fills her, she’s not expecting anyone and she hopes Harry isn’t at a time like this.
Opening the door, YN is honestly saddened to see Niall, Harry’s best friend, on the other side of the door in some casual clothing.
Leaning down to give her a hug, he places a friendly kiss on YN’s forehead as she invites him in. He starts to slip his shoes from his feet, making YN frown and groan under her breath.
“Hey, YN. I hope you guys don’t mind I came over. My girlfriend and her friends are having a girls day so I’m gonna bother you two for a couple hours,” he tells her, making his way to the couch and sitting down exactly where YN had been sat just moments before.
“No, no! Don’t-“ YN tries to warn him, but he’s already sat there and getting comfortable, turning on the television in front of him.
“Don’t worry,” he continues. “It’ll be like I’m not even here,” he finishes.
“Alright,” YN sighs, still standing near the couch. “Do you want a drink or something?” she questions, and he shakes his head.
“No, you just go about whatever you were doing. Thanks,” he smiles, turning back to the television.
“I fucking wish,” YN mutters, headed to the kitchen to get a drink. She rests at the counter with her elbows against it, completely forgetting about how she was pantiless and still dripping with her husband’s cum. Not long after, she feels a presence behind her, making her jump in fear.
“Shh, it’s just me,” Harry chuckles, making her relax. She takes in the scent of his body wash and shampoo, seeing his wet hair before noticing that he’s only dressed in a towel.
“Come upstairs with me. Gonna take care of you, okay?” he tells her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and then repeating the action all the way up her neck, making her whine and squirm.
“We can’t, Niall is here,” she grumbles, and he gives her a look that shows he clearly doesn’t care.
“I know, I saw him come in on the doorbell camera,” he answers. “Just gonna have to be a little quieter than normal, can you handle that?” he asks her, laughing as she nods quickly.
Grabbing her hand, he pulls her with him as he quietly runs up the stairs and into their bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.
“On y’back. Need to eat your cunt before anything else,” he tells her, and she immediately scrambled to do so, desperate to feel him on her in any way she can.
He climbs on the bed after her and spreads her legs, eyeing her messy cunt before him. He’s rock hard by now, his cock throbbing and aching as he needs to be inside her again and feel her cum around his cock.
Lying down on his stomach, he wastes no time, diving in immediately and swiping his tongue through her dripping folds. Both of them groan at that, YN from the feeling and Harry from the taste of his cum on her.
He closes his eyes and works on her, not letting up for even a second as she pants heavily above him. He’s so hard that he subconsciously starts grinding into the duvet, chasing an orgasm as well.
The towel is still wrapped around his waist, the semi rough fibres grazing his sensitive cock perfectly with each push of his hips into the bedding. The feeling makes him groan against her, only pushing her closer to her orgasm.
“Please, can I cum?” she cries out quietly, reaching down and pushing his head tighter to her. He hums and tries his best to nod, giving her permission to finally cum.
She cums then and there, and it’s so hard she has to squeeze her eyes shut and turn her head to bite down onto the pillow beneath her head. It’s all she can do to keep herself from screaming, her legs shaking around his head as she cums so hard there are stars behind her eyelids.
He keeps licking at her until she whines and pushes him away, making him sit up, panting. “Holy shit we taste so good together,” he mutters, causing her to let out a snort.
“We’re not done, though. Ready for me now?” he asks her, and she laughs in shock before nodding at him.
He quickly helps her to lie on her side, getting behind her and lifting her leg to be over his waist. It’s no secret that it’s her favourite position, allowing her to be close to him as well as feel him so deeply. And it’s his favourite just because it’s her favourite.
Grabbing his cock, he slides the head through her swollen folds for a few seconds before lining up with her hole and slowly sliding in, making her eyes roll back as she gets what she needs.
She lets out a loud moan when he bottoms out, making Harry quickly place his hand over her mouth. “Hush, Pet. Don’t want us to get caught with m,cock deep in you, do you?” he teases, groaning when she clenches down on him at his words. That makes him hum in realization, pulling out just to push his cock back into her before repeating the action over and over at a consistent pace.
Neither of them know that Niall has gone on a search for them, calling their names quietly as he explores the house. Stopping outside of the bedroom door, he hears the faint sound of clapping of some sort, making him stop and listen.
“I bet you want him to hear, hm?” he teases darkly, listening to her whines and moans as she accommodates him fully. “Want m’bestfriend to hear how much of a whore you are for me,” he finishes.
His words have her crying out in pleasure, and he squeezes his hand even tighter around her throat. She claws at his wrist as she struggles to breathe, but he knows she truly doesn’t want him to stop because she didn’t tap him three times.
“Shut the fuck up, ‘m not gonna stop fucking you until you soak my cock and I fill you up again,” he grits, ignoring the sound of Niall groaning in frustration.
The two hear a groan on the other side of their locked door, but he doesn’t let up on his bruising thrusts. “You guys are fucking disgusting, I’m just going to leave,” Niall calls as he makes his way back downstairs with a disgusted look on his face. “Fuck like rabbits, I swear,” he mutters before slamming their front door shut.
YN’s eyes are rolled back into her head, her hand clawing at Harry’s wrist even harder, warning him of her orgasm, knowing it’s going to be big. Leaning down, Harry bites down on her ear gently before pulling away. “I know, baby. Gonna cum again, hm?” he questions, although he already knows the answer.
She nods against the force of him furiously, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to hold off on her orgasm until he gives her permission. Opening her chapped lips, she manages to breathe out, “P-please,” she begs, her voice raspy. Leaning down once more, he presses some gentle kisses all over her neck before sucking on the spot gently.
Wanting to torture her a bit more, he smirks against her skin before he pulls away. “Please, what? What do you want?” he questions, loving the way she chokes and cries out in frustration, tears streaming down her face. “Tell me what you need, use your words, pet,” he hums, feeling her lock up around him once more.
After numerous attempts, and in between gasps for air, she can finally get it out as her lower body practically goes numb. “Please, let me cum,” she begs, feeling her stomach clench almost painfully.
Deciding to end his torment, he nods against her. “Yeah, pet. Cum for Daddy,” he rasps, nearing his orgasm as well. Immediately after he’s finished speaking, he feels her relax around him before locking down on him so tightly that he bites down on his bottom lip to hold back a scream of pleasure.
Her orgasm overloads almost all of his senses; he can hear, feel, and see her orgasm take over her body. The way her breath hitches in her throat and she lets out an almost animalistic groan fills his ears, her tight hole clenching down on him once more as he doesn’t stop his thrusts, the feeling of her orgasm soaking the both of their thighs making him look down as the clear liquid comes from her vagina.
All of those things combined send him over the edge with a silent scream, his face scrunched up as his orgasm is nearly painful with how tight his balls and stomach are.
His thrusts never cease, feeling her flutter around him as he fills her for the last time tonight as she relaxes fully, exhausted. He finally lets go of her throat as she starts to lose consciousness, rubbing up and down her body to ground her and cooing to her to let her know he’s there.
Not even removing himself from her still contracting hole, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder as she comes down slowly. The two stay that way until he has completely softened inside of her and her breathing is no longer shaky and uneven.
Her eyes are still closed in exhaustion when he slowly pulls himself out of her, a small hiss leaving his lips at the temperature change. With another chaste kiss to the side of her face, he lets her know that he’s going to get a washcloth for her, knowing she doesn’t have the energy to move from the bed.
She responds with a tired hum, her eyes still closed. While away, Harry wets a washcloth with warm water before grabbing some relieving cream, and on the way back to his wife he grabs a pair of loose cotton panties for her to sleep in.
Making his way to her, he spreads her legs gingerly before wincing at how swollen she is, guilt filling him. He wipes gently, but obviously not gentle enough as she cries out softly in pain as he grazes her sensitive clit.
“Sorry, baby,” he mutters, being way gentler as he finishes up. As soon as he’s done, he grabs some relieving cream and puts a bit on her before sliding some panties up her legs, rubbing her thighs when she whines slightly in discomfort. “I know, I know. You just need to sleep in them tonight and then you can breathe tomorrow,” he tells her, wiping some sweat from her forehead.
She nods weakly and snuggles into his hand, the warmth making her feel comfortable and even sleepier than she already was. Harry chuckles quietly before cleaning himself up quickly and taking the washcloth back into the bathroom before he pulls some boxers on.
He’s back at her side instantly, helping her weakened body out of the bed and across the hall to their guest bedroom, making sure he tells her what he’s doing to keep her grounded. The blankets are quickly pulled back before he helps her underneath them, and then he’s climbing under them himself, exhausted from his multiple orgasms as well.
No time is wasted before he’s wrapping his arms around her and looking down, only to see that she’s already asleep, her breathing quiet and even. With one last chuckle, he presses a kiss to her forehead before closing his eyes, drifting to sleep as well.
~
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Yuji Itadori, Matchmaker Extraordinaire
Yuji has the best of intentions when he tries to set up Nanami with you, the kind and beautiful school nurse….
It was nearly the end of your work day, the golden sun streaming in through the western window of your office, you forced yourself to stifle a yawn as you finished the last of your injury reports for the month. Panda closed his tail in a door, Nobara kicked a wall and injured her foot…nothing too out of the ordinary for this school.
A soft knock at the door was closely followed by Yuji Itadori, one of the first year students, poking his head in, his usual warm smile on his face.
“Hi, Yuji. What seems to be the problem today?”
“Hi, Miss Y/F/N! Well I was out on a mission with Nanami and I got all scraped up. I told him I was fine but he thought I should come see you anyways.”
“Aww, well he’s right. You sit on the cot and I’ll get something to disinfect those scrapes.”
The teen was more than happy to seat himself on the cot, rolling up his sleeves and pant legs so you could have easy access to his scrapes. Coming to the nurses office wasn’t so bad when the nurse was kind and pretty like you were.
“Is Nanami hurt too?” You asked as you pulled disinfectant and gauze out of your cupboard. On your way over you also stopped at the mini fridge that was situated between your desk and Shoko’s. This was intended to be for your lunches and ice packs, but you kept the bottom shelf stocked with juice boxes for students who came to see you. “Today for juice boxes I’ve got…..Fruit Punch and Lemonade, which would you prefer?”
“Fruit punch! And no, I don’t think so. Nanami is crazy strong. I don’t think he ever gets hurt.”
“You’d be surprised, you know. I’ve even cleaned up Gojo before, who do you think we keep the juice boxes for?” Giggling as you pulled a stool up beside the cot, handing him his juice box flavor of choice before you pulled on your purple latex gloves.
“Even the strongest get hurt sometimes. Okay, this is going to sting, you just tell me if it’s too bad, okay?”
Yuji nodded dutifully and you began to dab his scrapes gingerly. His face scrunched up a little in pain but he didn’t complain. “These must have hurt, hm? What level curse was it?”
“Two, but there was a whole bunch of them!! Hey, Miss Y/F/N? Did you ever go on missions and kill curses yourself? I mean, I know you have reversed technique and all but…”
“Mm, actually, that’s Shoko with the reverse technique. I have something we call Cerebral Manipulation. It can be used to soothe headaches, bring on sleep, bring sweet dreams…However, it’s most effective on offense.”
“Whoa. What does that mean, what happens?!”
Your parted your lips to attempt to explain the intricacies of your technique, however the soft click clack of loafers in the hall gave you pause, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips.
“Yuji, I hope you aren’t prying. Though I am glad to see that you came to get cleaned up.”
The blonde sorcerer stepped into your office, adjusting his cufflinks. It was amazing just how put together he could look after fighting curses, hair still slicked back neatly and suit pristine.
“Hi, Kento. I’m just about finished up with Yuji, here. Are you hurt at all?”
“No, Y/N. I’m fine. Thank you.”
Humming softly in acknowledgment you cleaned the final scrape on one of Yuji’s elbows. “Okay, I think you’re free to go. These are going to scab up but that is good. Don’t pick at them. If they feel hot, itchy or look really red I want you to come back and see me, okay?”
“Okay, Miss Y/N. Thank you for everything.” The boy grinned, rolling down his sleeves and pant legs, hopping up like he was not injured at all, juice box in hand.
“Of course, Yuji. Anytime. Just be careful out there.”
Yuji paused before he walked out the door, Nanami was helping you straighten up your office, putting your stool away and holding the bottle of disinfectant as you stood at the cabinet, carefully arranging a roll of gauze.
“Nanami? Are you coming?”
“No, Yuji. I’m going to help Miss Y/N clean up and then I’ll walk her out.”
“Kento is a gentleman, Yuji. You should always try to do the same, if you can.”
“Oh, okay. That is really nice of you. Have a good night guys!”
Yuji walked through the long halls of the school, hands in his pockets and head down. Nanami was a gentleman, of course. A great adult role model. So why didn’t he ever talk about having a wife or kids? It just didn’t make any sense.
The following day at lunchtime Yugi set his tray down beside Gojo, who was slurping from a bowl. On the other side of the cafeteria Nanami quietly picked at his rice, the only person at his table.
Yuji felt the tug at his heart, Nanami was lonely and sad and Yuji was going to attempt to fix that.
“Hey, Gojo?”
“Mhm?” The white haired sorcerer asked around a mouthful of lotus root.
“Do you….think Nanami is lonely?”
Gojo snorted, lifting his head from his bowl of oden, a white eyebrow raising incredulously from behind his blindfold.
“What in the world would make you ask me that?”
The pink haired boy shrugged his shoulders, a little bashfully.
“I don’t know, it’s just…I was in the nurse’s office yesterday and Nanami came to check on me and he just seemed so happy around Miss Y/N. I was thinking…I don’t know…maybe we should try and set them up together?”
“Yeah, you do that and let me know how that turns out for you. I think you’re-“
“Okay, I will!”
The teen needed very little encouragement as he bounded across the lunchroom. Gojo looked after him, mouth parted, debating on if he should intervene. After a moment he shrugged his shoulders and returned his attention to his lunch. “Eh, no harm in letting him.”
“Hi, Nanami. So, Miss Y/N was wondering if you’d want to eat lunch with her today?”
The blonde sorcerer glanced up from his plate, cocking a light eyebrow in surprise. Why would Yuji be asking if you would have lunch with him? It didn’t make much sense. Perhaps you just asked the boy to do you a favor, that was possible.
“Yes, of course I will…Is she available now?”
Yuji nodded enthusiastically, phase one of his plan was complete, now he just needed to get you to agree. Though in hindsight it may have been more convenient if you were already here.
“She should be, let me go get her…”
In a flash Yuji pivoted on his sneaker and darted out of the lunch room, sprinting down the long hallways towards your office. Something was off, Nanami decided.
Yuji arrived at your office, frantically knocking on the door before letting himself in.
“Miss Y/N!!”
Startled by the sudden commotion you dropped your pen, which clattered on your desk, you quickly rose, hand hovering over your emergency bag.
“What is it? Is someone hurt?”
“No, no! Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think it was something urgent. I just needed to find you. Uh-Nanami is wondering if you’ll have lunch with him today. Like right now.”
Letting out a sigh of relief you nodded softly, placing your pen in the holder on your desk.
“Oh. You scared me! But yes, of course. Let me just get my lunch out of the fridge and I’ll be ready-“
“I got it for you Miss Y/N!”
Salad in hand you followed the teen down the hall as he chattered away, a ball of pure anxious energy. You became increasingly guarded, Perhaps Gojo or Panda were lurking around a corner with a bucket of ice water or the like.
As you arrived at the lunch room you were remarkable still dry, though you entered the room cautiously. Only two tables were occupied, one with Nanami and one with Gojo, both heads raising to look at you as you walked in the room.
“Okay, enjoy your lunch!” Yuji yelled before skittering off to sit beside Gojo, he watched you owlishly and you imagined Gojo was doing the same from behind his blindfold.
The clicks of your kitten heels as you walked to the table felt deafening, as if the rest of the room were holding its breath.
“Hi….” You spoke softly, greeting Kento, though you trailed off, cautiously touching the stool with your palm to ensure it held weight before sitting down slowly. “I feel like I am about to be pranked. Why are they watching us? Why is everyone being so weird?” You spoke in a hushed whisper to the man across the table, eyes wide and full of concern.
“They’d be idiots if they tried anything…” Nanami muttered, taking a moment to shoot a glare at the other table, at Gojo specifically. Gojo gave him a thin lipped smirk, raising a hand to wave at them in a slow, almost creepy motion.
•
Yuji, from the other side of the cafeteria watched the two of you like a hawk, trying to make out the conversation by reading your lips, which he wasn’t very good at, admittedly.
“I think Y/N said something about being spanked!” The teen gasped, scandalized, throwing his hand over his open mouth. Satoru struggled with all his might to hold in his giggles.
“Yeah? Now what are they saying?”
Megumi sat beside Yuji without paying either he or Gojo much attention, digging into his lunch. Like a normal person.
“Shhhh!” Gojo scolded his ward, gently giving the hand that held the boy’s sandwich a tap. “Yuji’s trying to concentrate!”
Megumi warily tracked Yuji’s gaze to the only other occupants in the room, both of whom were looking back at them. Y/N had a wary, concerned look on her face and Kento was glaring.
“Why exactly are we staring at each other?”
“Yuji is trying to make Y/N and Nanami fall in love.” Gojo whisper yelled to the boy, Yuji, with his brow furrowed in concentration nodded furiously. “Yup.”
“Huh?”
•
Nanami finally had enough of the staring contest, making a show of rolling his hazel eyes and shaking his head before he decided to drop it and return to having his lunch with you.
Picking at the rice on his plate he muttered “They are too childish to bear. At least Yuji still is a chid. Gojo has no excuse.”
•
“Children….bare….Oh!! What if Nanami is asking Y/N if she wants kids?! Aww, their baby would be so cute! And such a powerful sorcerer!”
Gojo at this point had clapped a hand over his own mouth, eyes watering ever so slightly as he fought to keep his laughter at bay.
Megumi looked between the two of them with absolute confusion, dark brows furrowed “So…Are Y/N and Nanami having a baby? Is that what the big deal is?”
•
“Do you want to just go out to lunch? I’ve kind of lost my appetite…” You admitted, prodding at a piece of spinach that looked absolutely unappetizing. “By the time we get there I’m sure I’ll be feeling better, oh what about that new soba place?”
Gojo, who was a far better lip reader than Yuji, gasped aloud “Wait, they’re going to the new soba place…I wanted to go to the new soba place…”
“Oh, I thought Y/N said something about soap….” Yugi muttered quizzically, scratching his head.
“What the fuck is happening?” Megumi groaned in exasperation.
•
“That sounds great, love. Let’s get going. I don’t think I can stand another minute of being stared at by the peanut gallery over there.”
Both of you rose, collecting your unwanted lunches, which Nanami discarded.
After which he laced his hand in yours, pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and the two of you walked out of the lunch room hand in hand.
•
Yuji’s mouth fell open and stayed that way for far too long as his brain tried to process what he just witnesses. “Wh—-I did it? It was that easy? I’m the world’s best matchmaker….”
All at once Gojo released his laughter, clutching his stomach as he leaned back, nearly falling out of his seat.
“Hey, what’s so funny? Nanami finally found love!” Yuji shot back defensively. How dare Gojo laugh at poor, loveless Nanami like that!
“Yeah, with his wife! God, you are sooo gullible! Did it not tip you off that Y/N’s last name is Nanami? Annnyyway. I’m gonna go see if they’ll let me go with them to get soba.”
At that the World’s Strongest trotted after the couple on his long legs, pausing only to shoot a shit eating grin at the teens before he rounded the corner and disappeared. He may as well have flipped them off.
“Huh, guess I didn’t know her last name…”
Megumi shook his head so hard it began to ache. He was dumfounded by how dumb Yuji was.
“How did you not know that? I was at their wedding when I was a kid. Wait, what did you think was happening on Valentine’s Day when Nanami gave Y/N that giant bouquet?” Megumi snapped, genuinely annoyed at his friend.
“I thought he was just a gentleman and did that for all the women…”
At that answer the black haired boy stood from his seat, carrying his untouched lunch towards the trash can.
“Hey, where are you going?” His pink haired friend called after him, eyes big and sad.
“I’m going to get soba.”
“Aww, man.”
Yuji stared down at his wildly distorted, reflection in his jello with a sigh. Perhaps he just wasn’t meant to be a matchmaker after all….
#jjk#jjk x reader#nanami kento#nanami kento/reader#nanami x reader#nanami x you#yuji itadori#gojo satoru#miscommunication
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Any chance you can share an excerpt of the Harry/Sirius fic you have planned? 🥺
“That’s teenage years for you, kid; you’re always angry.”
Harry frowns. “You think that’s all there is to it?”
“Sure. I was that way, too.”
“Was?” Harry asks, and he’s finally smiling. A tiny thing, frail, but it’s a smile. “Seems like you’re still going through your teenage years, then.”
“Cheeky bastard.” Sirius swats him over the head, playfully.
The frail smile turns into a grin. There’s a mischievous side to Harry, buried deep under the trauma, the burden of being the Boy Who Lived.
Harry reaches for the bottle again. “Gross,” he shudders, making a face after he swallows. “Does it get better? The taste?”
“Eventually,” Sirius says, opening a second bottle, now that he relinquished the first to Harry. “You get used to it.”
He got Regulus drunk in this very room some twenty years before.
His mother sighs in his head. She sounds resigned.
“How about those?” Harry nods at the pack of cigarettes Mundungus snuggled in for Sirius. “Will you teach me?”
“Not much to teach,” Sirius says, giving Harry a fag, taking one for himself.
He lights them with his wand and tells Harry to breathe the smoke in.
Predictably, he chokes.
“Being a bad boy isn’t easy, Harry,” Sirius mocks.
“It’s disgusting,” Harry wheezes, still choking, but when he calms he tries again, to the same result.
By the time he finishes, Harry grows even paler, says he’s a bit dizzy.
How innocent he is; how young. Sirius remembers the first time he smoked, that dizziness Harry speaks of.
He was thirteen, and life was good, even if it didn’t feel like it. Now he wishes he could go back to those times.
Would you abandon us again? If you could go back, would you still betray us? the voices demand.
“I’ll teach you to ride a bike,” Sirius promises. “Next summer. I’ll buy one. Miss riding, anyway.”
“Drinking, smoking, riding bikes, moping around in corners, being angry- what else is on the requirement list for being a bad boy?”
“I don’t mope around,” Sirius argues. “And never in corners. I brood in full view of everyone.”
Harry laughs. It might be the whiskey, but there’s some colour returning to his face. He almost looks alive.
He’ll die, eventually. Everyone around you dies, brother.
Regulus was always a spoilsport.
“Alright, alright. Brooding, then. What else?”
“Fucking,” Sirius says, just to embarrass him, and it works like a charm. Harry goes red, instantly. “Can’t be a bad boy if you don’t fuck around.”
Harry looks away. He runs his fingers through his hair again, making it stick out more than usual. It still doesn’t remind him of James.
When James did it, there was intention behind it. He liked his hair like that, and he knew some girls liked it, too.
When Harry does it, there’s nothing intentional about it. It screams of insecurity, something that wasn’t in James’ vocabulary.
“Well,” Harry says, so red he’s turning purple. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that, too.”
A warning rings in Sirius’ head.
Don’t poke at it, his mother advises him. Leave it be, Sirius.
Sirius never listened to her, so he won’t start now.
“You know girls that won’t mind your godfather joining you for a bit of fun?” Sirius teases. “Why, Harry, you’re already running with a bad crowd in that case.” Harry snorts, gulps more whiskey. “I barely know any girls at all,” he mumbles. “But I’m sure no girl would say no to you; it’s more likely they’ll protest to me, really.”
“First lesson,” Sirius says. “No self-depreciating jokes. No poor-me attitude. No one finds that attractive.”
“Well, that’s who I am,” Harry snaps, that temper of his rearing its head for a second.
“Even so, you hide that shit if you want to pull birds. Pretend you’re confident, even when you aren’t.”
“That’s wrong, though. Misleading someone, lying-”
“Bad boys lie all the time.”
Harry huffs. He slumps back into the couch. “Forget it. I can’t be a bad boy.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Sirius agrees. “Plus, if you want to be really bad, you’d need to do some prison time. Not worth it, I assure you.”
“Being locked up in a cupboard doesn’t count?” Harry asks. “Did about ten years of that.”
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