#but she can tell from looking at him that he's Been Through It so that dampens her some
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Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.
he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.
"'ello, love."
"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.
"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."
"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."
"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."
"kyle--"
"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"
"y-yeah..."
"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"
"yeah..."
"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"
you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.
"good girl. you sit tight."
so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.
he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.
you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.
"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.
"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.
"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"
"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.
"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."
you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.
"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"
kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.
"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.
"mhm. in the car already."
"a-and the diaper bag?"
"in the boot."
"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"
"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."
he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.
"you're doing so well, love. so well."
"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."
"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."
"o-okay."
she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.
in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.
he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.
the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?
back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.
in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.
you deserve it.
"is that her?"
kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?
kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.
"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."
he laughs a little, shaking his head.
"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"
kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.
"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."
he stands, raising a brow.
"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."
"no, i have the right--"
"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."
"kyle?"
your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.
the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.
"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"
kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.
"and dad's name?" she asks.
kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.
"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."
he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.
"i heard you outside, kyle."
"did you?"
"and i heard you just now."
"mm."
you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.
"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"
kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.
"who says you don't belong to me?"
#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick x you#kyle thoughts
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JEALOUSY • DRABBLE
☣︎ Summary: The men all have their reasons for getting jealous around you. But how exactly do they react when they feel the threat is much more real? SURELY, they’re rational, right?
Includes: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami
Tags: fem! reader, friends to lovers, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, teasing, bulging, pussy eating, choking, breeding, praise, overstim, possessiveness, threatened gun violence, toxic possessiveness, car sex, dry humping, rough sex, squirting, pining, premature ejaculation, love bombing, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, true form sukuna, slight angst
WC: 13.1k
A/N: I cackled writing Choso’s, my poor baby is too precious 😩💜
༒︎ Gojo Satoru ༒︎
You pull into the gas station because, once again, your car is on its last leg. Satoru’s been absolutely useless this entire car ride, lounging like some kind of overgrown housecat, sunglasses crooked on his nose, humming the most obnoxious song he can think of just to get under your skin. His long legs are kicked up on your dashboard like he’s king of the world.
“Finally, a pit stop,” he says, stretching dramatically. “I was starting to think you’d just run us out of gas for fun. You know, to create a bonding moment.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, putting the car in park. “Stay in the car. Not that I have to tell you that.”
He snickers, not even looking up from whatever weird little game he’s playing on his phone. “Sure thing, sugar. Let me know if you need me to heroically pump the gas for you. I’ll try not to make it look too easy.”
You ignore him because giving him attention only makes it worse. You grab your wallet and step out, the cold air biting at your face as you swipe your card and get ready to fill the tank as quickly as possible so you can return to the cocoon of warmth that is your car. You’re in your own little zone, minding your business, when a voice breaks through the quiet.
“Hey there! Need some help?”
You glance up, startled, and see a guy walking over. He’s got that effortless, small-town-boy charm, the kind of guy who probably calls everyone “ma’am” and knows how to fix a tractor. He’s smiling, too— a little too widely, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s taking the pump right out of your hands.
“Oh, I had it,” you say, trying to be polite, but this guy is already on a roll.
“Nah, no worries,” he says, grinning. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t have to pump their own gas. It’s just not right.”
You blink at him, caught somewhere between confusion and being impressed, because— wow. Is this really happening?
You glance back at your car, hoping Gojo hasn’t noticed, but as soon as your eyes land on his, you know you’re doomed. He’s sitting up now, sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, staring at you both like he’s just been served the juiciest gossip of the year. His grin is growing and you’re sure he’s ready to put on a show.
Before you can stop him, he throws open the car door and steps out like he’s been summoned to the stage. He stretches unnecessarily— arms up, head tilted back, like he’s on the cover of a sports magazine— and then saunters over, hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself.
The gas station guy looks up, noticing Gojo for the first time. His smile falters just a little. “Oh, uh… hey. Didn’t realize you had someone with you.”
Satoru’s already grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he says, waving a hand. “I’m just her boyfriend. You know, the adoring, perfect, doting one who pumps her gas all the time.”
You groan. “Toru—”
“What? I’m just saying, it’s cute that you’re trying to help, bud,” he says, turning back to the guy with a grin so wide it’s almost terrifying. “But this is kind of my thing. I know she’s just the sweetest, but she’s taken.You get it, right? Yeah, you get it.”
The poor guy blinks, clearly unsure if Satoru’s joking or about to start something. “Uh, yeah, no problem,” he mutters, handing the pump back to you like it’s radioactive. “You two have a good day.”
“Oh, we will!” Gojo chirps, giving him a little salute. “And hey, nice try, man. Better luck next time.”
The guy doesn’t even look back. He practically sprints back to the safety of the gas station, and as soon as he’s gone, you turn to Toru, crossing your arms and pursing your lips in annoyance.
“What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” he asks, feigning innocence as he leans casually against the car. “I was just making sure no one stole my job. You know how much I love pumping your gas.”
You gape at him. “You’ve never pumped gas in your life!”
“Exactly,” he says smugly. “That’s what makes this moment so special. It’s a sacred duty.”
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “You’re so insufferable.”
“And yet,” he says, draping an arm around your shoulders, “you love me. Isn’t that wild?”
“Whatever. I’m gonna get a snack. Want something?” you roll your eyes and start walking toward the station.
“I’ll come with, I’m craving something sweet.” he smirks with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite discern.
You raise a brow and walk with him, entering the gas station with the goal to grab a bag of chips and water, but the second you head for them, your hand is being trapped by Satoru’s and he’s tugging you toward the bathroom. You shoot him a look of confusion and annoyance, but he pays it no mind as he yanks you inside, closing the door behind you and pressing you against it.
“Toru, wha—”
“Told you I wanted something sweet, sugar. Bend over a little f’me.” he instructs, turning you so you’re facing the door. Your palms lay flat against it, trying to use it as leverage to turn yourself, but he presses your head to the door, too, his strong palm mushing your cheeks to it, sucking his teeth in disapproval.
“You’re insane, w-we’re in a gas station,” you try to reason with him, but his hand’s already shoved up your skirt and peeling down your panties. “Satoru, seriously…”
“Y’telling me to stop? She’s cryin’ f’me, though, I think she’ll be so sad if I don’t give her what she wants,” he purrs, getting to his knees and littering kisses on the fat of your ass. “C’mere, baby.”
You’re lost to him the moment he stuffs his face into your already dripping cunt, bucking yourself back against him and into the feel of his greedy tongue slipping between your folds and down, down, down to your clit. You can feel him smirking against you when he draws out a long shaky whine from your lips between your panting and while normally his cockiness would annoy you beyond belief, it instead turns you on more. And yet—
“Wh-hah— why couldn’t this wait until we got to the hotel?” you ask, nails scraping down the door when he plunges his tongue into your twitching hole.
He pulls away for a moment, spreading your ass to spit a glob of saliva between your folds and slurp it back up while sucking your clit. No answer. You huff and tremble, unsure of how long you’ll be able to keep yourself standing if he’s just gonna keep eating you like a man starved.
You try, you really do, to keep your voice down, but when his tongue hits that spot inside of your gummy walls, his hand between your thighs and thumb working on your clit, you can’t help but let your moans slip out. And oh, does that make him even more unrelenting. His thumb draws circles on your clit quicker and with more pressure, his tongue fucking into you as rough as can be.
Your eyelids flutter closed, breathing labored as you feel that sweet sweet build up that you love so much. He knows what comes next and while normally, he’d see you to the end, this time he stops, earning a frown from your pretty face.
“Wh-why’d y—” you start.
“Y��mine, say it.”
“What? Toru, what’s—”
“Say. It. Say y’mine… say y’love me and I’ll make you cum so good, sugar, I promise.” he all but whines.
You don’t know why it needs to be said or what’s going on with him, but you’ll be damned if you let your orgasm escape you. With every second that passes, it runs from you, so you give him what he needs. “I’m yours, baby. I love you.” you coo.
“Again.” he huffs against your cunt, making your knees weak. He’s so close. You’re so close.
“I love y— hah,” your breath escapes you when he delves his tongue back into your pulsing hole. “Fuuuuck… I love you, I love you, I l— fuck!” your cunt tries it’s best to grip his tongue, but he fucks it into you with more force as you cum on it, losing strength in your legs and slumping down while your brain goes dumb with pleasure.
He holds you up, tongue slipping out of you and back to your clit, his head shaking side to side while he licks at your clit, overstimulating you beyond belief. All you can do is cry out for mercy, palms battering at the bathroom door as you raise your white flag.
With that, he frees you from the sweet torture, massaging your thighs and resting back on his ankles. “I’m pumping your gas from now on.” he huffs.
Coming back to your senses, you realize why he pulled this stunt off. “Satoru. Were you… jealous!?” you chuckle in disbelief.
“I’ve got nothing to be jealous about, it seems. What with the ‘I love you, I love you, I—’” he mocks you while standing up and you smack his arm.
“Sh-shut up.” You huff, pouting as he puts your panties back in place, dolling you back up and kissing your shoulder.
“Nope. But you’re gonna wish you had when the poor guy out there’s blushing redder than red.” he teases. Your eyes widen and you cover your mouth with your hand when you realize he had to have heard everything.
“You’re insane.” your voice is muffled by your hand.
“Insane’s one word for it,” he smirks. “I like to say I’m just crazy for you.”
Not long later, you’re climbing back into the car. Satoru follows, flopping into the passenger seat with a contented sigh like he’s just won a marathon.
As you pull out of the station, he stretches again, kicking his feet up on the dash like he owns the place. “You know,” he says casually, “you should really thank me. That guy was totally about to ask for your number. I saved you from a very awkward situation.”
And you could quite literally kill him.
༒︎ Geto Suguru ༒︎
The room is buzzing with conversation, a polite undercurrent of tension that doesn’t escape you. Cult leaders and their followers mill about in finely tailored clothes, exchanging calculated smiles and empty pleasantries. You’re trying your best to look engaged, but your thoughts keep drifting to Suguru.
He stands a few feet away, surrounded by a small circle of curse users, his tall frame commanding attention with ease. His black robes flow elegantly around him, his long hair tied back neatly. The faint smirk on his face, the calm way he speaks— it all oozes confidence. Control. Every now and then, he glances in your direction, his sharp eyes softening for just a moment before flicking back to the conversation.
You’re nursing a drink near the refreshment table when someone sidles up beside you.
“Ah, I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you,” a smooth voice says.
You turn to see a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit, his polished appearance almost too pristine. His expression is warm but calculated, and his sharp eyes are already fixed on you. Takeda. You recognize him instantly— leader of a large, influential cult. Non-sorcerer, but powerful in his own way.
“Good evening,” you reply, forcing a polite smile. They have their role to play, Geto tells you, so you make sure to keep appearances with non-sorcerers despite their usual poor attitude toward you.
He smiles wider. “Good evening, indeed. I couldn’t help but notice you standing here all by yourself. It seems almost criminal for someone as lovely as you to be left alone at an event like this.”
You feel your cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, a small flush creeping up your neck. “I’m not alone. I’m here with my boyfriend,” you say, gesturing subtly in Suguru’s direction.
Takeda follows your gaze and chuckles softly. “Suguru Geto. Of course. I’ve heard much about him.” His attention snaps back to you, and his smile turns almost wolfish. “I must admit, though, I’m surprised. I didn’t think someone so… captivating would end up with a man who seems so creepy… Besides, I’m sure he’s always so busy. Too busy to truly appreciate a beauty like you.”
Your face heats further, and you stammer, “He’s not too busy. He’s just—”
Before you can finish, he takes your hand in his and presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles. It’s old-fashioned, deliberate, and enough to leave you momentarily stunned. Not in awe, but in pure shock. He’s bold, you’ll give him that.
Your breath catches, and you feel a wave of heat rush to your face. You try to pull your hand back, but his grip is firm— not unkind, but enough to make you falter. You can’t ruin appearances by hurting him, so you allow it, praying he’ll give up soon.
“A pleasure meeting you,” he murmurs, his lips still ghosting over your skin.
And then you feel it— the air shifting suddenly. A heavy, familiar presence fills the space around you, and Takeda finally releases your hand. You glance over your shoulder to see Suguru a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on the two of you as he approaches.
“Takeda,” Suguru says smoothly, his tone light but carrying a weight that makes your stomach flip because you know better.
Takeda straightens and flashes a smile that’s far too confident. “Geto. What a pleasure to see you,” He gestures toward you. “I was just introducing myself to your lovely partner. She’s quite… enchanting.”
Suguru’s lips twitch, curving into a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m aware.”
There’s a pause, the kind that feels too loud in the quiet. Suguru’s gaze flickers briefly to your hand before returning to Takeda.
“I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” he continues softly.
Takeda chuckles nervously, clearly unsure of how to respond. Geto’s not usually the type to be confrontational in public. It’s normally all smiles and politics for him, so this has Takeda stunned. “I meant no disrespect, of course.”
Suguru hums thoughtfully. “No disrespect… Of course not.” He tilts his head slightly, his smile sharpening. “But you’d do well to remember your place, Takeda. Admiration is one thing. Touching, however…” He trails off, his tone turning razor-sharp, dark eyes honing in on the poor man’s. “That’s dangerous, especially for someone like you.”
Takeda falters, his polished demeanor cracking for just a moment. “I— I’ll keep that in mind,” he mutters before excusing himself and retreating into the crowd.
As soon as he’s gone, Suguru turns to you, his sharp expression softening slightly. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just looking at you in a way that makes your stomach twist.
“You seemed… flustered,” he says finally, his voice quiet but probing.
Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “I wasn’t, he just caught me off guard,” you mumble.
Suguru steps closer, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Are you sure? Because from where I was standing…” He pauses, his voice dropping. “It looked like you didn’t mind it.”
“Suguru—”
“Did you like it?” he interrupts, his tone impossibly soft, almost vulnerable. “A weakling holding your hand, kissing it like that… Did you enjoy it?”
Your heart twists at the faint frown tugging at his lips, the rare glimpse of uncertainty in his usually composed expression. That’s when you recognize the look in his eye. It isn’t anger, it’s fear. Insecurity. Things you never expected to see from him.
“No,” you say quickly, reaching for him. “Of course not. I could never, baby.”
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign of dishonesty. Finally, he exhales softly and takes your hand in his, his thumb brushing over the spot where Takeda’s lips had been.
“Come with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm.
He leads you down a hallway, wanting to be away from the noise and chatter of the convention. When he pushes open the door to an empty room and pulls you inside, the silence feels almost deafening in comparison to everything on the outside.
Suguru closes the door and turns to face you, his dark eyes heavy with emotion. Without a word, he cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“Say it,” he whispers, his voice raw.
“Say what?” you ask softly, your hands resting on his chest.
“That you’re mine,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. “That you wouldn’t leave me for some monkey.”
Your heart aches at the quiet desperation in his tone. “I’m yours, of course I’m yours.” You whisper, your hands curling into his robes. “Always.”
The next thing you know, his lips are melting yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more insistent. When he pulls back, his breathing is uneven, and his eyes are darker than ever.
“Again,” he all but whines, his lips trailing down to your jaw. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours, Suguru,” you repeat, your voice racing as your heart squeezes. “Only yours.”
He exhales sharply, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. “Good,” he whispers, moreso to himself. “Good… because I need you.”
You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses you again, this time with a desperation that feels like he’s trying to erase every trace of Takeda’s touch from your skin.
His nails dig into your sides, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, tasting all that you have— all that you are. He’s needy, moving to hoist you up and hook your legs around his waist.
Your dress rides up your thighs and he wastes no time gripping at the fat of them, subtly rolling his hips into you in a way that tells you he may just be doing it subconsciously. Gasps are shared between your lips as he kisses you a few more times before moving to swipe his tongue up your neck, stopping just under your jaw and sucking a big fat hickey into the crevice.
It feels so good that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working their way down, down, down to your ass, pulling you into him with every roll of his hips. You feel how hard he is even through his robes, unable and unwilling to stop yourself from sliding the top of his gojogesa off his broad shoulders. You’re dipping your head down to pepper kisses all over his shoulder while he marks you up, your nails leaving marks of their own on his skin from how hard you’re gripping him.
You know what this is. Know what he needs. You’d be a fool to stop him from taking it. “Sugu… here.” You tell him, emphasizing your words by rolling your hips in tandem with his.
You swear you hear him growl as he tears his lips from your throat and grips your underwear on one side to tear them off, your eyes widening at the action. Suguru’s normally a calm, calculated man, even when he makes love to you, everything is suave and he’s always in control, but now? Now, he’s become someone entirely different. Someone needy. Someone eager to prove a point. To stake a claim.
“Here, angel.” Is all you hear before your mouth is stuffed with your own underwear and– when did he whip his dick out? You’ve got no idea, but it’s plugged into you before you can react, a long and grateful groan just spilling from Suguru’s lips like he’s finally laying in bed after a long day of hard labor. He’s home. Your head falls back against the door and he uses the opportunity to attack your neck again, littering the skin with kisses, licks, and the occasional bite.
He’s got no rhyme or rhythm in his thrusts, he simply ruts into you with a force that has the door shaking, the metal bar rattling and making your stomach lurch with fear at the fact that it could so easily be pushed for you two to end up on display for everyone. The fear falls away soon, however, replaced with nothing but pleasure when he’s targeting that wonderful gummy little bullseye that makes you go dumb on his cock.
Your eyes start searching for something in the back of your head, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth and soaking your underwear as your shaky moans are muffled by the fabric. And you don’t know when it started, but your ears tune into Suguru whining the same thing repeatedly. “Mine, all mine, mine, mine, mine—” again and again and again with every punctuated thrust targeting your poor cervix.
Your nails rake down his back, hoping to find some sort of balance to compensate for the fact that your legs are beginning to ragdoll, no strength left in them as they flop by his sides with every thrust. Except, you don’t have to worry. No, his grip on you is bruising, he never wants to let you go.
And you wish you could see his face in this moment. See how he looks when he’s so adamant about proving it to himself that you’re his. Before you know it, you’re snaking a hand into his hair and tugging his head back, earning a needy little whine from his puffy lips before he’s looking at you. Oh, is he looking at you. Like you’re the world. Like you’re salvation. His brows are drawn tightly together, a pout on his lips that tells you he’d be nothing without you. God, you wanna kiss him. Wanna tell him a million times over that you’d never even think of another.
The look on your face tells him exactly what you want, you think, because in the next instant, he’s tearing the underwear from your mouth and crushing his lips into yours. His thrusts have rhythm now, his hips fucking into you with urgency. Every time his thick cock slips past your puffy folds, you’re inched closer, oh so closer to cumming and your stomach draws tight at the feeling. He’s chasing both of your orgasms, not once missing that spongey little spot that makes you see stars as he pounds you into the door, your voice sounding out to God knows how many people are in the hallway while you kiss him, your drool now slipping down his chin.
You hear him groan into the kiss as his hips start to falter– he’s close. And yet, while his rhythm is lost, his force is worse. Every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge until you’re right there. “I love you,” he whines against your lips before breaking away and letting his head fall back. “I love you, I love you, I. Fucking. Love. You.” He punctuates the last repetition with a thrust for each word, cumming on the very last one along with you, who couldn’t help but cum at the words he’s never said before.
You two had been together for a year. A whole year and not once had Suguru ever uttered the words. You always knew he wasn’t an emotional man, so you never expected to hear the words. You felt it, though. His care for you. It was in his actions. How he never forgot an important date, how he would always bring home food or a treat or flowers for you, how he loathed being away from you for any given reason. And yet, the words still shock you.
He ruts into you a few more times before he stills, nothing to be heard except for your breaths shared between each other until his eyes go wide– perhaps in realization of what he’s just said, and he kisses you. Softer this time. More sure of himself. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he’s confessed.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Don’t let anyone else touch you like that again,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. Not angry, not upset, just… needy. “I don’t care who it is. I won’t stand for it. Even if you don’t love me like I love you, I just can’t bear to see that again.”
You smile and offer a tired chuckle, brushing his hair back from his face. “Y’know, for someone usually so calculated and knowing, you sure are stupid,” you shake your head softly. “I love you, too. More, actually.”
His lips press against your temple, and he exhales slowly, the tension in his body finally easing. “Not possible,” he murmurs again, his voice soft. You can hear his smile in it. “Nobody’s ever loved anyone like I love you.”
༒︎ Toji Fushiguro ༒︎
You aren’t sure if dragging Toji to your high school reunion is a brilliant idea or the worst decision you’ve made all year. On one hand, you know he can charm the socks off anyone when he wants to, all cocky smirks and lazy grins that send shivers down your spine. On the other hand, he doesn’t exactly thrive in situations that involve niceties and polite small talk—especially with people he doesn’t give a shit about. Still, you’ve convinced him, mostly because you want to show him off. He’s hot, and he’s yours. What’s the point if you can’t gloat a little?
Toji is surprisingly well-behaved for most of the evening. He nurses a glass of bourbon with his usual swagger, leaning against the bar and throwing you looks that tell you that he’ll be waiting for you to make this worth his while later. He even manages to avoid scaring off too many of your old classmates, though you catch the occasional side-eye when he’s not so subtle about telling them to fuck off. Everything’s going smoothly.
That is, of course, until he notices you talking to him.
You don’t mean to bump into your ex-boyfriend. Really, you don’t. But there he is, standing near the drink table with the same easy grin you remember from your teenage years. He calls your name, and before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling back and walking over. Toji’s gaze burns into your back the entire way.
“Wow, you look amazing,” your ex says, his tone warm but casual. It’s just an observation— a compliment between old friends, but you can just feel the way Toji’s teeth grind from across the room.
“Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, keeping your tone light. The conversation flows easily, filled with harmless reminiscing about old high school antics. Nothing romantic. Nothing serious. Just memories of embarrassing pranks, favorite teachers, and the god-awful cafeteria food.
But you know Toji. You don’t have to look to know he’s watching, his sharp green eyes narrowing every time your ex laughs or steps just a little too close. You can practically hear the internal dialogue: “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?”
Then your ex does it. The thing you know is going to push Toji over the edge.
He hugs you.
It’s quick and friendly, a casual embrace to say goodbye. But as soon as your ex’s arms wrap around you, you feel your body being eaten up by your boyfriend’s shadow. You pull back quickly, about to turn to Toji to defuse whatever storm is brewing, but it’s too late.
He moves quickly— silent and deadly. One second, he’s leaning against the bar. The next, he’s standing behind you, his presence towering and suffocating. His hand rests on the back of your neck, deceptively casual as he leans in close.
“I dunno why yer touchin’ her, pal,” Toji drawls, his voice low and dangerous, “but don’t let it happen again.”
Your ex blinks, clearly startled by the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I… sorry? I was just saying goodb—”
Toji’s hand moves and you worry he may actually hit the poor guy. “Oh, shit.”
“You gonna say goodbye, then get the fuck outta here,” Toji says, his grin sharp and feral as he subtly lifts his sweater just enough to reveal the gun tucked into his waistband. “Before I decide you don’t need yer legs.”
Your ex’s eyes go wide and he stumbles over himself to retreat, mumbling something about it being nice to see you before practically sprinting away. You don’t even have time to scold Toji before security is suddenly very interested in the two of you.
Five minutes later, you’ve been escorted out of the venue, Toji’s hand resting possessively on the small of your back. You wait until you’re alone in the parking lot to whirl on him.
“Seriously?” you hiss, smacking his arm. “You pulled a gun on him?!”
“Relax, doll,” Toji says, his grin infuriatingly smug. “I didn’t even take it out.”
You groan, stomping toward the car. You reach for the passenger door, but before you can open it, his arm shoots out, blocking your path.
“Nah,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Yer sittin’ in the back with me.”
“What, am I in trouble now? Gonna spank me?” you ask sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.
Toji doesn’t answer. He just opens the back door and shoves you inside, sliding in next to you and shutting the door behind him. You cross your arms, giving him a pointed glare. It doesn’t take long before he’s sulking.
He leans back against the seat, legs spread wide, and huffs like an overgrown child. “Wasn’t jealous,” he mutters.
You snort. “Sure you weren’t.”
“Ain’t funny,” he grumbles, glaring at you.
You can’t resist pushing him just a little further. “If you’re not jealous, then you won’t mind if I go back inside to grab his number. Y’know, for old times’ sake.”
His head snaps toward you, his jaw tightening. In one quick motion, he turns, caging you against the seat with his arms. “The fuck you just say?”
“You heard me,” you say, smirking. “If you’re not jealous, it shouldn’t bother you.”
Toji’s eyes narrow, and the tension in the car shifts again, but this time it isn’t anger. It’s something else entirely. He leans in until his nose brushes yours, his voice dropping to a low growl.
“Ain’t about bein’ jealous,” he says, his breath warm against your lips. “Ain’t nobody else touchin’ my girl. Don’t care what reason they have.”
His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as his lips ghost along your jawline. His touch is possessive, his grip firm enough to leave no room for argument. You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.
“Toji…” you start, but he cuts you off with a low chuckle.
“Nah, you’ve been mouthin’ off thinkin’ yer cute,” he says, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. “Time to shut that pretty mouth o’ yours.”
He's enjoying himself, towering over you in the confined space of the car, the sunlight streaming in from the windows only highlighting the wolfish grin that spreads across his face.
“You’re so—”
"Hm?" He hums, his hand already snaking down your side, easily slipping under the hem of your dress as he plants a kiss onto the side of your neck. "Y' got somethin' t' say, doll?"
His fingers dance on your skin, inching closer and closer to the spot he knows will make you weak in the knees. He's toying with you, getting a kick out of your restraint as you try to formulate words again. But before you can finish even a syllable, he cuts you off.
"Save it, sweetheart. Was gonna be nice 'nd all when we got home t’night, but you had to go and run that pretty mouth with yer ex." He growls lowly in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “So while yer getting yer brains fucked stupid, I want you t’remember… this is on you.”
With a rough grasp, he flips you onto your stomach in the backseat, your dress riding up your ass as he yanks your panties down with a swift tug, the cool air hitting it and making your hole clench around nothing. His dick is hard and straining against his pants, pre seeping through to form a dark spot. The anticipation of what's to come has your breath hitching, heat pooling between your legs. He leans over you, the weight of his body pressing down onto yours.
He’s rutting against your ass, one hand sliding up to toy with one of your nipples while his other hand massages your hip. God, if you could see the needy little look on your face right now, then he’d finally get you to understand just why he’s so addicted to you. You’re just so gluttonous for him. Always wanting more, more, more. And of course, he’s always willing to give.
But right now isn’t the moment for giving. No, he needs to take. To take and take and take until there’s no more left of you to give to anyone but him. Always him. He backs away just enough for him to unzip his pants, his cock springing free. His hand finds it immediately, stroking himself in slow, teasing motions, hard length throbbing against your bare ass. There's a devilish grin on his face as he utters, "Gonna show ‘er how much she needs me."
Without waiting for a response, he aligns himself with your sobbing cunt, teasing your folds with his thick head just swiping back and forth and mixing his pre into your skick. He groans at the contact, his hand gripping your hip tighter. Suddenly, with a swift thrust, he plunges himself deep, his girth stretching you so mind numbingly good that you fear you may just pass out. The thing is, he’s barely in, but the sensation is already overwhelming, causing you to gasp and buck your hips.
He wishes you knew how fucking good you feel. Wishes you knew that whenever he fucks you, that tight ring of resistance tries so hard to push him out. That is, until he’s fucked his fat tip into you a few times, because then you’re practifally sucking him in. He knows the stretch is a lot. Knows you’re sore hours later without fail and yet, you still beg for more. Just like now.
Words are failing you, but your look is enough. You want more. Need more than just his tip. You wanna be broken in. And so he does. He feeds you inch after inch of him, sitting up and pausing at the halfway point to admire the way your cunt looks swallowing him so eagerly. He grasps at the globes of your ass, jiggling them and biting his lower lip at the God granted sight.
His free hand moves to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair before he grips tightly and brings your head up so he can press your face into the window. And just light that, he fucks the rest of himself into you roughly, grunting.
"Fuckin’— take it," he rasps out, taking a brief moment to adjust to the feeling of your tightness around him, unable to resist a little moan of his own. Then, he starts moving. Slow and punishing at first, then picking up speed with the same punishing force. Each thrust is precise and purposeful, perfectly hitting that spot inside you that makes you feel fuzzy. He's unabashedly vocal too, grunting and groaning with each delicious slide in and out of your wetness. "Fuck... y' take my cock so good..." he compliments, pushing your face harder into the back window.
Easing up on his grip on your waist, he rolls his hips, grinding against your ass before pulling out for just a moment to slap his tip against your folds, watching as your cunt twitches and then thrusting back in again. His actions are deliberate and controlled, meant to stir you up and drive you to your limit.
"Please baby, please, please, please..." you moan helplessly, your words swallowed up by the sounds of your bodies slapping together and his grunts of pleasure. But he merely chuckles darkly, gripping your hip and pressing your face against the window harder as if to anchor himself and punish you at the same time, his thrusts never faltering.
"Y' can gimme more than that," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans down, teeth nibbling at your exposed neck.
He slows almost to a stop, but the slight shallow thrusts still feel so overwhelmingly good you think you’re gonna go insane. “Y’really think she could live without me? Mmm mm, no, she needs me. I’m the only one who can stuff this greedy little pussy the way she needs to be stuffed. Isn’t that right, baby? Say it f’me.”
“F-fuck! Toki, gonna—” SMACK!
“Not talkin’ to you, princess. Talkin’ to her.” He delivers a pointed thrust into you to emphasize the fact that he’s genuinely talking to your cunt in his pussydrunk state.
Your sure he’s left a permanent handprint because of how hard he spanked your ass. The sting that lingers where his palm landed makes your cunt twitch and ache around him, which he considers to be answer enough. “S’what I fuckin’ thought. Atta fuckin’ girl, yes baby.” He groans, quickening the pace ever so slightly and beginning to pull you back into him to meet his thrusts.
“Talkin to an ex, y’must have wanted to get yerself fucked stupid, hm? Is that what you wanted? To be fucked like this?” He’s talking, but you can tell it isn’t for actual answers, no, it’s more to himself. He’s fucked out. So close to the edge.
The thrusting quickens, his hot breath fanning over your ear. "Cum f' me, doll," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, "show me how good I make y' feel. Only me. And then I’m gonna breed yer cute cunt so good." With that, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, aiming for that spot inside you that will unravel you completely.
That’s when you finally let loose, the coil inside your tummy snapping and letting you feel so much pleasure that you’re moving your ass back into him with a force that’s unmatched, just swallowing him deep into you over and over again. And that does it for him— his cum spurting inside you and filling you so good.
He kisses you so hungrily you feel you may just lose your breath entirely and pass out. His hands are holding you in place so you don’t fuck back onto him, because he knows if you did, he’d break you.
Toji leans back, smirking at the sight of you, his thumb brushing your swollen lips.
“You done throwing your little tantrum?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.
He glares at you, though there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re real fuckin’ funny, y’know that?”
“Oh, I know.” And deciding to drop the bombshell now, you lean back against the seat and say casually, “By the way, he’s married. To a man. They have two kids.”
Toji freezes, his expression shifting from smug to incredulous in seconds. He blinks like a cartoon character in shock, his brows furrowing. “What?”
“Yup,” you say, your grin widening. “Your big, scary display of dominance? Totally unnecessary.”
He huffs, running a hand through his hair. The look on his face is so priceless you wish you could brand it into your memory. “Tch. Coulda fuckin’ said somethin’ sooner.”
“And miss all the fun?” You laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Before you can say anything else, he’s on you again, his hands roaming as he mutters, “Gonna make you pay for makin’ me start a scene.”
You laugh, the sound cutting off into a gasp as his hands find their mark. “I made you start a scene? Oh, this I gotta hear.” You say, your voice breathless but still teasing.
“Keep talkin’, doll,” he says, his grin turning wicked. “See where it gets ya.” And then his lips are finding yours again. Just like that, the argument is forgotten, lost in the haze of his possessive, consuming affection.
༒︎ Choso Kamo ༒︎
The mall is crowded, loud with the hum of chattering voices and echoing footsteps. It isn’t your favorite place to hang out, but your best friend had begged you to come along. Somehow, Choso ended up tagging along too, though you weren’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly the mall type, after all— too quiet, too detached from the bustling energy of human spaces like this.
You glance over your shoulder at him now, and there he is, just like you’d expect. He’s trailing a few steps behind, hands shoved into the sleeves of his robe, his dark eyes drifting lazily over the crowd. His usual stoic mask is firmly in place, making him seem untouchable to anyone passing by. But you know better than that. Beneath the unapproachable aura, Choso is awkward— painfully shy even. He’s still figuring out how to interact with humans, still trying to understand what it means to live in a world like this.
And for some reason, he’s decided you’re his safe space.
You smile to yourself, turning your attention back to the task at hand. Your friend had told you they’d meet you at the bookstore, but they’re running late, so you decide to wander into one of the nearby shops to kill time.
Choso doesn’t follow. You assume he’s probably going to find a dark corner to tuck himself into.
What you don’t realize is that he does follow. At a distance. He’s used to watching from the sidelines, content to let you move through your world without interference. He doesn’t mind, in fact, he learns from watching how you interact with people, animals, media, and the likes. He learns about the world, but more importantly, he learns about you.
His eyes are on you now, but just seconds later, they shift. There’s a new focus, a new target. Him.
The guy behind the counter at the little boutique you walked into. He’s tall, clean-cut, and obnoxiously friendly. At first, Choso thinks nothing of it. It’s not like he can stop every stranger from talking to you. But as the guy’s gestures become more animated, and his laughter gets a little too familiar, something shifts in Choso’s chest.
He wishes he could hear whatever it is he’s saying that has you so giddy. Wishes he could just— wait, what?
The guy leans forward across the counter, his hand brushing yours as he hands you something, maybe a receipt, maybe a bag, Choso doesn’t care. Because what he does next is what hammers the nail in the coffin. His hand moves to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair, making you laugh. It’s the casual intimacy of the gesture that makes his stomach churn. He knows he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He knows. But he can’t help the way his jaw tightens, or the way his fingers curl into fists in his sleeves.
You’re still smiling at the guy. You’re laughing. And he hates it.
His mind spirals before he can stop it. The scene plays over and over in his head, each time twisting into something worse. What if you like this guy? What if you’re into someone who can flirt with ease, someone who doesn’t stumble over their words or overthink every little thing?
What if you don’t want him?
Choso feels a sharp pang in his chest, like something fragile has cracked. He’s been so careful, so guarded with his feelings. He thought he could keep them tucked away, safe from rejection, safe from ruining this. But now? Now he feels them slipping through the cracks, raw and unmanageable.
He looks away, leaning back against the wall outside the store. His heart’s racing, though he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he has any claim over you. You’re your own person, free to talk to whoever you want. He’s just… He’s just the weird half-curse with no idea what his place is in this world who follows you around and doesn’t know how to say what he feels. But what if he did say it?
The thought hits him like a lightning bolt, sudden and electrifying. He’s scared, sure— terrified, actually, but the idea of staying silent is worse. He doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, not without at least trying.
So he waits.
When you finally walk out of the shop, you’re holding a small bag, a content smile on your face. You spot him instantly, standing off to the side like he’s been there the whole time.
“Hey, sorry that took so long. They had some really cute stuff in there,” you say, holding up the bag as if to explain.
Choso doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flick to the shop behind you, then back to your face. He doesn’t ask about your purchases. Instead, he asks, “Who was that?”
You blink, caught off guard. “Who?”
“The guy you were talking to,” he says, his tone as flat as ever, but there’s something behind it—a tension you can’t quite place.
“Oh, him? That’s just my friend from school. He works here part-time,” you explain, shrugging. “I didn’t even know before now.”
Your words are casual, but they allow Choso a wave of relief. That relief is short-lived, however, replaced almost immediately by a surge of determination. This is his chance. His moment to say what he’s been holding back.
“Can I… talk to you for a second?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
You tilt your head, curious but not concerned. “Of course. What’s up?”
He gestures for you to follow him, leading you away from the bigger crowd and toward a seating area deeper in the mall that’s less populated. Once you’re there, he turns to face you, his hands still buried in his sleeves.
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He’s searching for the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, what comes out is raw and unfiltered.
“I thought you liked him,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blink, surprised. “What? No, Choso, I told you, he’s just a friend.”
He nods, but his gaze drops to the floor. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?” you ask gently.
He looks up at you then, his dark eyes searching yours. “This. Any of this. Being around people. Trying to figure out how I’m supposed to feel, how I’m supposed to act.”
You wait, sensing there’s more he wants to say.
“But with you… it’s different,” he continues, his voice steady despite the nerves etched into his expression. “I don’t feel lost when I’m with you. I feel… human.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t interrupt.
“And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I like you. I… I think I’ve liked you since the moment we met. I just didn’t know how to say it— didn’t know what it was. B-But I do, now.”
You stare at him, his confession hanging in the air between you. For a moment, he thinks he’s made a mistake. That he’s crossed a line he can’t uncross.
But then you smile.
Not just any smile— the kind of smile that makes him feel like the world isn’t so complicated after all.
It’s all you can do because his confession doesn’t catch you off guard, not really.
You’ve always known.
“Cho,” you say softly, stepping closer, “I know. I’ve known for a while.”
His eyes widen slightly, his lips parting in surprise. “You… knew?”
You nod, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle, you know. But I didn’t say anything because I wanted to give you time. Time to figure out what you wanted, how you felt.”
He’s silent, staring at you like he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified.
“For what it’s worth,” you continue, your voice warm, “I like you, too. Just as you are. You don’t have to change or be anyone else for me, Choso. I like you for you.”
Something in his expression shifts. It’s now a mix of disbelief and something deeper, something more raw. His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, and when he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “Can I… kiss you?”
The question catches you off guard, not because you don’t want him to, but because of the way he asks it, so tentative and earnest.
“Of course,” you say, your tone gentle but steady.
But he hesitates, his eyes darting to the small crowd around you. His voice drops lower, almost shy. “Not here. Can we… go somewhere else?”
You bite back a smile at how endearing he looks, his cheeks tinted pink as he avoids your gaze. “Come on,” you say, nodding toward a quieter hallway where the restrooms are tucked away.
He follows you like a shadow, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he keeps his head down. When you reach the single-occupancy restroom, you push the door open and step inside, holding it for him as he follows. The door clicks shut, and the noise of the mall fades into a distant hum.
For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the tension in the small space thick enough to cut with a knife. Choso shifts nervously, his hands twitching at his sides. “I… don’t know how start,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s okay,” you reply, your smile soft and steady. “Just follow my lead.”
You step closer, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. He freezes for a moment, his dark eyes wide and uncertain, but when you lean in, his lids flutter shut.
The kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips warm and soft against yours. But as you deepen it, something shifts. It’s like a switch flips inside him, and suddenly his hands are on your waist, gripping you like you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.
He grows bolder with each passing second, his fingers wandering over your arms, your back, your hips, your ass. There’s a desperation in the way he touches you, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. Finally, he pulls you flush against him, his entire arms wrapped around you, one hand gripping your hip and the other on your shoulder.
You can’t help but chuckle against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. “Easy, Cho,” you murmur, your tone teasing. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, his face flushed as he loosens his grip, but only slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to stop.”
Your smile softens, and you press a light kiss to his cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay to feel nervous.”
You kiss him again, this time letting him lead you. As things heat up, he starts to get carried away again, his hands roaming with a mix of urgency and inexperience. His kisses grow hungrier, his breath ragged as he presses closer, his body practically trembling against yours.
Suddenly his whole body stiffens and a low, unsteady sound akin to a whine escapes him before he pulls back, his face burning with embarrassment. He avoids your gaze, his hands falling away as he stammers, “I— I’m sorry. I dunno what— I didn’t want to stop, I—”
You pull back further to see a dark patch beginning to form even on the purple cloth that rests in front of his robes, realizing what happened. Your perfect Choso just came in his pants from kissing you. You can’t stay silent much longer for fear of making him more embarrassed, so you hush him gently, cupping his face and tilting it so he has no choice but to meet your eyes. “Cho, it’s okay,” you say firmly, your voice steady and soothing. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is all new for you, and that’s perfectly fine.”
He swallows hard, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of judgment or disappointment. When he finds none, his shoulders relax just a little.
“You mean that?” he asks softly.
You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “Of course, I do. We’ll take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”
He nods slowly, the tension in his posture easing as he lets out a shaky breath. After a moment, he looks at you again, his expression soft but serious. “Is this… what love is?” He closes his eyes, his lips curving into the faintest smile as he leans into your touch. And in that quiet, stolen moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in its place.
༒︎ Ryomen Sukuna ༒︎
The room is dimly lit, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. You’re lying back on the exam table, your dress pulled up over your growing belly. The monitor hums softly as the sonographer, a man with overly polite eyes and a soothingly gentle touch, adjusts the machine. He explains the process as he goes, his voice calm and warm, clearly trying to put you at ease.
Today is your first 3D ultrasound where you’ll finally get a better view of the life growing inside you. It feels surreal. You’ve had to wait until you’re 32 weeks along to get the best view, so the wait has made you antsy. Will it look like Sukuna? You? Will it smile or suck its thumb? Surely it’s too early for that, right? All of these questions are running through your mind and making your body vibrate with both nervousness and anticipation. It actually does help that the sonographer noticed and is trying to soothe you.
You glance to the corner where Sukuna stands, his towering figure leaned protectively against the wall. His crimson eyes are locked on the sonographer, sharp and unyielding, like a predator stalking prey. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, claws tapping rhythmically on his forearm, a faint sound that portrays his growing irritation. The air feels heavy with tension; thick enough to cut with a knife. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t contribute to your current nervousness.
The sonographer prepares to squirt gel onto your belly, offering you a soft smile. “This might feel a little cold,” he says, his tone careful. “But it’ll help us get a clear image of the baby.”
You flinch slightly at the cold, and the response is immediate.
“Watch your hands.” Sukuna’s voice slices through the room, low and menacing.
The sonographer freezes, visibly startled. His gaze darts nervously to Sukuna. “I- I’m just preparing her to perform the scan, sir. There’s no need to worry.”
Sukuna scoffs, the sound dark and mocking. “Worry? I’m not worried, human. I’m warning you.” His crimson eyes narrow, radiating danger. “You’re touching my wife who’s carrying the heir to my throne. Be mindful.”
You press your palm to your forehead, exhaling sharply. “Ryo,” you say, your tone firm. “He’s doing his job. Stop scaring him.”
Sukuna’s eyes flick to you, softening slightly, but the fire in them doesn’t fully die. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
The sonographer hesitates, visibly uneasy, before resuming his work. The wand glides gently over your belly, and the monitor flickers to life. He points out the baby’s heartbeat, their tiny limbs, and the way they seem to kick at nothing in particular. His voice is soothing as he explains, almost too soothing for Sukuna’s liking.
You can see that the baby has four limbs, thankfully, and it’s got a frown on it’s face, much like its father’s. Until you speak, that is. When you speak, you can see the soft smile that graces your sweet baby’s face, again much like its father’s. You feel tears prick at your eyes finally seeing your baby so clearly.
The sonographer glances at you again, his smile almost reverent. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby looks perfect— beautiful, actually.”
That does it.
“Beautiful, huh?” Sukuna mutters, his voice laced with venom. “Bet you say that to every woman you see. Must be part of your script. You’re just so reassuring. Well, my wife doesn’t need that. She has me. Do you think yourself better than I?”
“Ryomen.” Your voice sharpens, and you shoot him a glare that tells him you’re angry. “Enough.”
He stares at you for a long moment, his lips curling in mild defiance, but he backs off for now. The sonographer continues, though his hands move a little faster this time, clearly eager to finish. Sukuna’s eyes remain locked on him, every small movement scrutinized like a hawk circling its prey.
Finally, the scan concludes. The sonographer hands you a towel to clean off the gel, offering another polite smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but Sukuna doesn’t give him the chance.
“You’re done, right? Get out.”
The man’s eyes widen; he looks to you as if hoping for an intervention. You manage a tight smile. “Thank you for your help. Forgive my unpleasant husband,” you say pointedly, dismissing him with a polite nod.
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone. Sukuna stands there, still bristling, his claws twitching at his sides.
You sigh, wiping the last of the gel from your belly. “You’re ridiculous, Kuna. He wasn’t touching me in any sort of suspicious way.”
“He shouldn’t have been touching you in the first place,” Sukuna snaps, taking a step closer.
“He’s a medical professional, Ryomen. It’s his job.”
“I don’t care,” he growls, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “He was too close; too soft. Like he thought he could make you feel safer than I do.”
You sit up, tugging your dress down over your belly. “No one is trying to take your place.”
He scoffs, pacing in front of you like a restless beast. “You’re mine. No one else gets to put their hands on you like that.”
You stand, squaring your shoulders as you step into his path. “Would you rather our child go unchecked and we miss something bad? You can’t scare every single person who helps me, Ryomen.”
His eyes narrow, the frustration in them simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re too soft,” he mutters. “Always making excuses for people who don’t deserve it.”
“Soft doesn’t mean weak,” you counter, standing firm. “And I don’t need you turning every little thing into a fight. Trust me, Ryomen. I’m not going anywhere. But… you’re wrong, you know. I do need comfort. You provide safety, yes, but never reassurance. Gentleness. Maybe just… passive acceptance. I’m carrying your child. Of course I’d like to be doted on and treated with care.”
Before he can get upset again, you add, “By you. Only you. So just— please stop it with the anger and hostility. I want my child to know their father is capable of love the way I know he is.”
The tension in his shoulders loosens slightly, though the possessiveness in his gaze remains. He steps closer, towering over you, his hand coming to rest on your belly. His touch is firm but deliberate, a reminder of who you belong to.
“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “You. The baby. You’re my dearest prizes. No one else gets to act like they know how to care for you better than I do. I study everything, every minute detail about you and what’s to expect with the child. I suppose I’ve been so wound up with preparing myself and protecting you that I’ve gotten more hostile than usual. I… can work on it.”
You place your hand over his, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“Get back on the exam bed.”
“What? Why? He’s finish—” he interrupts you by walking you backwards until your ass hits the edge, caging you in.
“Because I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look carrying my heir and standing up to even me. And I’d like to show you just how much I love it.” He says, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your neck, just below your jawline. As expected, you tilt your head up for a kiss and he indulges you, kissing you so hungrily and lifting you onto the bed.
His hands wander all over your body, his touch carrying a gentleness you’re not used to. Goosebumps raise on the whole of your body in response and you’re leaning forward into the kiss, losing yourself in it. You don’t even realize he’s hiked your dress up and removed your panties until the cold hits your slick-sheened pussy.
“Ryō—”
“I know, brat, I know.” He says, a teasing lilt in his voice as he parts from your lips to kiss along your jaw. “Come to the edge f’me.”
You do exactly that as he undoes his robes to reveal his second set of arms… and his second mouth. God, you love how freaky this man is. His second set of arms grip the globes of your ass to hold you steady as he pulls you flush against his lower mouth, his fat tongue just smearing your cunt with your slick and his saliva.
You’ve never cared to admit that this mouth of his has always been your favorite. It’s so big that it offers more coverage, more pressure, and gets so much dee—
“Biiiiig stretch.” Sukuna warns you before he plunges his second tongue into your hole, lingering at that first ring of resistance to deliver a few shallow, but mind numbingly pleasurable thrusts before he pushes the rest of the way in; as much as he can, that is.
He uses the moment your pretty little mouth releases an ah! to kiss you again, his first set of hands slipping up your dress to find your tits. If there’s anything he’d put on top of the list of things he loves about your changing body, it’s this. How fucking thick your ass has become and undeniably huge your tits have grown. Just swelling and preparing to fill with milk to sustain his heir.
He pinches your sensitive nipples between his large fingers, making you moan into the kiss, relaxing your cunt around his tongue between you. Suddenly, you’re lifted just slightly above the table, his other hands beginning to fuck you on his tongue, his saliva and your slick just drip, drip, dripping onto the bed and floor beneath you.
“So greedy. Pussy’s always so fucking greedy…” he groans, resting his forehead against yours so you both can watch as your pussy bulges from swallowing his tongue so eagerly. It’s such a lewd sight, one you’ve undeniably grown addicted to in your time together.
Your moans mingle together and it’s then you realize that he’s now using just one of his hands to fuck you on his tongue. His other is wrapped around both of his cocks and pumping them together, ribbons of pre falling down his lengths and being smeared by his movements. You’re not even slightly ashamed of the way you salivate seeing him getting off while eating your pussy and watching himself do it. It’s so fucking filthy that you can’t help but—
“Gonna cum f’me, aren’t you? Mmmmmhm, can tell by how she’s flutterin’ around my tongue. My needy fucking wife.” He smirks, pulling you flush to him so that the widest part of his tongue rubs against your clit while he switches it up and fucks his tongue into you, faster this time.
“O-Ohmyfuckinggod!” The words come out strung together, the added attention on your clit making you see stars, your breath quickening, heart beginning to race. You lean back onto the bed using your hands to prop you up so you can get a better view.
“So nasty, beautiful.” A chuckle falls from his lips and you can’t even respond before his upper hands are just engulfing your tits and kneading, easing the pain of the swelling and pleasing you at the same time.
Then, something happens. Milk begins to drip from your right nipple and it has you both stopping in your tracks. You’d heard of the low possibility that milk can come before you give birth, but you never considered it’d happen to you. A blush of embarrassment creeps on your face and you’re about to apologize when you hear Sukuna groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth immediately latches onto your tit and he just sucks.
“S-Sukuna, fuck!” You whine, his lower tongue beginning to work your quivering pussy again, bringing you right to the edge of pleasure.
He releases your tit with a pop! and nips it gently. “Mine. Mine, mine, all fuckin’ mine, such a good Queen providing for my heir early. Gonna be such a good momma.” He praises you before beginning to suck the lactating nipple again, making you come undone on his tongue, your gooey insides clenching around his tongue, trying to stop him with how tight you are, but he’s too strong, fucking his tongue into you through your orgasm to swallow up every last bit of cum you have to offer him.
It’s not until you’re whining and your legs are limp, weak pushes against his shoulders making him release your tit and slip his tongue from your slobbering hole. He runs the tip of his tongue against your oversensitive clit just a few times before you feel him kiss your puffy folds, making your body lurch.
You watch breathlessly as he tries to suck up the milk from your poor abused nipple again, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging his face up to yours. “Y’know, you’re mine too. Forever. Don’t you forget that.” You smirk.
Something flickers in his eyes— pride, possessiveness, and a touch of vulnerability he’d never admit to. “Damn right I’m yours,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk. “But don’t think that means I’m gonna get soft on people.”
You lean into his hand as he caresses your cheek, a small smile playing at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are,” he says, leaning down until his face is inches from yours. His voice drops to a rumble. “Carrying my child. Still standing by me. So brave.”
“Someone has to keep you in check,” you tease, though your voice softens with affection.
He lets out a low chuckle, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, well, let’s see if you’re brave enough to take my cocks after cumming like such a good brat f’me.”
Your eyes widen, feeble hands trying to push him away by his chest, “Kuna! We have to leave, they’re probably traumatized!” You tell him in a hushed tone, suddenly all too aware that you’re in a doctor’s office for fuck’s sake.
“Yeah, well. They can afford the therapy.” He gives you a shit eating grin while thumbing open your cunt. “Open up real wide f’me, baby.”
And as you brace yourself, you remind yourself to make apology rounds to the staff whenever your husband is through with you.
༒︎ Nanami Kento ༒︎
Nanami Kento is tired. Not just the kind of tired you feel after a long day, though God knows his body aches from another grueling shift of paperwork and exorcisms. No, it’s deeper than that. A bone-deep fatigue that comes from too many hours spent away from the one person he’d rather be with. You.
He steps through the door, loosening his tie with one hand and holding his briefcase in the other. The house is warm and smells faintly like the lavender candle you always light in the evenings. It feels like home, but he quickly notices something’s off.
Your voice carries down the hall, light and warm, tinged with laughter. It’s a sound that usually has his shoulders relaxing, but tonight, there’s an edge of tension beneath it that prickles at him. He sets his things down quietly, toeing off his shoes, and listens.
“Yeah, it’s been kind of lonely lately,” you say, and he freezes in place, his hand hovering above the coat rack. “I mean, I get it. Nanamin works so hard and I love him for it, but… I don’t know. I just miss him. I feel like I barely see him anymore.”
His chest tightens. You’re talking about him. He takes a slow, measured breath and steps closer, rounding the corner silently.
“Thank you for keeping me sane, though. Honestly, if I didn’t have someone to talk to, I’d probably be climbing the walls by now.” There’s a soft laugh on the other end of the line. Gojo’s laugh. The realization is instant and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
Gojo. Of course, it’s Gojo. His coworker, the occasional thorn in the side, the most insufferable man he knows. And apparently the one you’ve been leaning on while he’s been too busy drowning in work.
Kento feels his jaw tighten, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. He knows— logically, rationally— that there’s nothing going on between you and Gojo. You’d never betray him like that and Gojo, for all his teasing, would never cross that line. But the knot of jealousy twisting in his chest doesn’t care about logic.
You must have heard him shift uncomfortably because you glance over your shoulder, startled. Your expression softens when you see him and you give him a small, almost sheepish smile. “Hey, Kento just got home,” you say into the phone. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
Nanami doesn’t miss the way Gojo’s laugh sounds out one last time before you hang up. He doesn’t say anything as you set your phone on the counter, but his silence is heavy. You know him well enough to recognize it immediately.
“Ken,” you say softly, stepping toward him. “Long day?”
He hums in acknowledgment, his gaze steady on you. It’s not cold, but there’s something simmering behind it; something that makes you hesitate. “Gojo?” he asks finally, his voice calm but with an edge you can’t ignore.
You blink, caught off guard by his demeanor. “Yeah. He was just checking in. He knows I’ve been home alone a lot lately.”
“Does he?” His tone is even, but the sharpness is undeniable.
You frown, crossing your arms. “Nanami, it’s not like that. He’s a friend. Our friend. You know that.”
“I do.” And he does. He knows it’s innocent. But that doesn’t make it easier to hear you laughing and confiding in someone else while he’s been too busy to do the same.
“Ken.” Your voice softens and you reach for him, your hand brushing his arm. “Please don’t do this. Don’t beat yourself up or think anything crazy. I’m not mad at you for working so much. I know why you do it. I know it’s for us. But… it’s hard sometimes. That’s all I meant.”
“I hate that you feel like this,” he says quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That you have to go to someone else when I should be here.”
You step closer, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You’re here now,” you murmur, trying to pull him out of his head. “That’s what matters. That you always come back to me as soon as you can.”
He looks at you, something dark and conflicted in his eyes. “Is it enough?” he asks, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Am I enough? Or would you rather have a husband who has more time for you?”
Your heart breaks at the vulnerability in his voice. “Kenny,” you say firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Always.”
The tension in his shoulders eases slightly and his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s hungry. Desperate. As if he’s trying to make up for all the time he’s spent away from you in one moment.
You gasp against his mouth and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to the globes of your ass and gripping tightly. When he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll change for you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “No more late nights. No more overtime. I’ll cut my hours. Whatever it takes to be here with you.”
“Ken, you don’t have to—”
“I do.” His hands slide under your shirt, his touch firm but gentle as he lifts it over your head and lets it fall to the floor. “I won’t let you feel like you’re second to anything. Ever again. You’re too precious to me. My world. My heart. My wife.”
His lips find your neck, trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone. He moves with a purpose, his hands exploring your skin as if to reacquaint himself with every inch of you. It’s more than physical— it’s a promise.
You tug at his tie, fumbling with the knot until he helps you pull it free and rips off his button-down. Then his hands are on you again, guiding you toward the bedroom.
“Lay back for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding but with an undercurrent of tenderness that makes your pulse race.
You obey, sinking onto the bed as he leans over you, his lips finding yours again. His touch is both reverent and possessive, his movements careful but insistent. Every kiss, every caress feels like an apology and a vow wrapped into one.
He wraps a hang around your throat, squeezing for one fleeting moment before trailing it down your chest, between your breasts, down your stomach, over your pubic bone, and finally under your nightgown to meet your slick riddled cunt.
“Shit,” he hisses, forehead resting against yours while he catches his breath, his fingers slipping back and forth between your folds, teasing at your clit in passes. “My love… I don’t want to waste any time, I just need t’feel you. Normally I’d ea—”
“I know, handsome, s’okay, I’m ready, I can take it.” You reassure him, knowing he was going to apologize for not properly warming you up.
You see, Nanami has always been one for foreplay. He could slurp up your saccharine slick for hours upon hours if you let him, but tonight? Tonight, he just wants to be one with you.
His hand finds one of yours and he intertwines your fingers, his other hand working to free his cock from the suffocating confines of his pants. When it springs free, it’s just throbbing an angry pink, beads of pre forming at the tip now that his dress pants aren't there to absorb them.
He aligns himself with your painfully empty hole, pushing past that first little ring of resistance with a long groan. The grip he has on your hand tightens, his knuckles turning white as he feeds you inch after mind numbing inch of his cock until his tip’s kissing your cervix. But you know his body well enough to know that isn’t it. And so you brace yourself for him to push in to the hilt, his mushroom tip ever so slightly bullying open your cervix as he does so, making you yelp out in both pleasure and pain.
His lips swallow your whines and whimpers, he’s determined to take everything you have to offer and give you more than what he has. The world, if you asked. His free hand finds purchase on your hip and he holds you steady as he starts to roll his hips into yours, passionately. Roughly. Like he’s trying to stuff you full of all of the love he has for you.
You moan out, reaching your own free hand up to cup his cheek, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his back, effectively telling him you need more. With every thrust after, you can’t help but gasp. You feel him in your lungs stealing every bit of breath you have, reddened leaking tip repeatedly hitting that bullseye that makes your mind go stupid.
“K-Ken, feels s’good! Hah!” You whine out, back arching up and pressing you flush to him. He moves his hand from your hip to wrap his arm around you, effectively holding your bottom half in the air to get deeper inside of you.
“Mine. My wife. My wife, my love, my beautiful, m-my heart.” He’s babbling, burying his head into your neck and pressing hot, wet, open mouthed kisses to it. You feel him slip his hand from yours and instead, he has the top of your head in the palm of his hand, using it to keep you still, but also to anchor himself so he doesn’t let you slip through his fingers.
“You’re going to be such a beautiful mom. Wh—hah, what kind of husband have I been by not trying to give you my babies? We can start now. After I cum riiiiight here.” He babbles, his other hand moving for only a second to press down where your stomach bulges with his thrusts.
And the look in his eyes tells you this is a promise, not just something he’s saying while fucking you. Just like the perfect little thing you are, you cum for him right then, dragging a long and frustrated groan from him.
“Pussy’s always so good for me. Milking me so good, my love…” he shudders as you cum on his throbbing length.
“Ken, f—fuh— fuck! Cum in me! Please, baby, cum in me!” You beg, making him chuckle.
“Oh? You think I’m done? No, I have to make up for lost time. Evert second I missed, I’ll make up for with an equal amount of time spent buried in this beautiful cunt of yours. Understood?”
And oh are you so incredibly fucked.
#jjk x reader#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk fic#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami kento x reader#kento x reader#jjk smut#jjk choso#jjk nanami#jjk geto#jjk gojo#jjk toji#jjk sukuna
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Various Squid Game Characters x injured gn!reader
(Includes Gi-hun, In-ho/Young-il, Thanos, and Dae-ho)
!warnings: canon-typical violence, use of Y/N, cursing, in Dae-ho's specifically it is kinda implied that reader was using the women's bathroom but it doesn't say anything about the actual gender of the reader
a/n: this is most likely noncompliant to the canon, but it's fine. i might do another part with different characters later, but for now, i wanted to get this out asap. hope you enjoy!
Gi-hun:
- Winners don't get hurt, right? That's what you thought, but here you were trudging back to the dorms with a gunshot wound. A bullet must have ricocheted off the pavement because something grazed your side.
- You were one of the last ones to complete your game of marbles, so you walked back to the dorm alone.
- When you entered the room, he could tell there was something wrong, but he assumed it was shock from the cutthroat nature of the game. He'd been through it before, and he was still shaken to his core.
- You walked over to the area your group had claimed for themselves. You sat on the ground, arms wrapped around yourself. It looked like you were hugging yourself, a common self-soothing practice, but it was really just a way to put pressure on the wound covertly.
- He noticed how quiet you were being even after the remaining members had started chatting.
- "Y/N, I'm glad you made it out of there." He said. He watched your reaction closely.
- You nodded, murmuring a soft "Thanks, you too."
- He continued to watch you, concern growing with each passing moment. You started to grow pale as you sat there. Your breathing was labored despite your attempt to hide it.
- "Hey, are you okay?" He asked. It was a stupid question, and he knew it. How could you be okay here? Especially after a game like marbles.
- He didn't expect you to shake your head. You looked like you were going to cry. He moved closer to you, blocking the view of the others in an attempt to provide some level of privacy.
- "What's wrong?" You tried to speak but you couldn't get the words out. "Hey, what happened?" He asked. He lowered his voice, but you could hear his tone become more frantic.
- You wordlessly pulled your hand away from your wound, showing him the crimson staining it and your clothes.
- You noticed his gaze become distant. He looked at you and saw Sae-byeok, and you knew exactly what was happening. He hadn't told you about her specifically, but he had mentioned a close friend being injured. You hated bringing back those memories for him.
- You started crying, sputtering out a string of apologies. "I'm sorry. S-sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't-"
- That made him snap back to reality. He cut you off. "No, no, it's not your fault. You're gonna be okay." He said quickly. He helped you lay back so he could get a better look at it.
- "Guys, we need some help over here." He said, keeping his voice low. It got their attention regardless.
- "Can one of you get me one of the bedsheets?" Gi-hun asked, to which Jung-bae rushed to get. Jun-hee passed over an unopened water bottle. "Here! I didn't drink it with lunch so I could save it for later." She said.
- Dae-ho took the request for help in a different way. "Hello?! Can we get a doctor in here!? Someone's-"
- "Dae-ho, stop it!" He snapped. The man's face changed to a look of shock. "They won't come. Trust me." He said softer. Dae-ho muttered a soft, "Sorry."
- You continued to cry, trying to keep yourself quiet. "I'm gonna need to pull this up, okay?" he asked, fingers grabbing the fabric of your shirt. You nodded, grimacing as he peeled the fabric off the wound.
"Y/N.... what happened?" He asked. Jung-bae and Jun-hee were folding the bedsheet to make it manageable to wrap around you.
- "I-I think a bullet ricocheted or something. I don't know. I'm sorry." You stammered, flinching at the cold feeling of the water as he poured some onto it. It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.
- He bandaged you up the best he could with the supplies on hand. Once he was done, you sat up with a wince. "Careful." He warned, but you could hear his playful tone returning to him.
- You leaned into him, head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you. All of you." You you said softly, looking over to your other allies. Gi-hun smiled softly. "Get some rest, okay? I'll keep watch." He said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
- Be prepared to hardly leave his sight for the rest of the games. He swears to protect you no matter what. Even when more selfish players would suggest he leave you behind. And they did suggest it, resulting in him lashing out at them. That was clearly a sore spot, as their words reminded him of Sang-woo.
- That night, he had a nightmare about the last night in his first game. The events played out as normal, but with you in the place of Sae-byeok. It was harrowing, to say the least. He may have failed her, but he will do anything to make sure you made it out of here.
- He woke up with a start, breathing faster than usual. You were in the bed pushed closer to his. You turned toward him slowly. "What's going on?" You asked in a hushed whisper.
- "It's nothing, go back to sleep." He responded. You knew better, but you didn't press him any further. However, you did carefully roll toward him, resting your head on his chest.
- He was going to scold you for moving too much, but you quickly returned to sleep. He just smiled like a lovesick fool and got some much-needed sleep.
In-ho/Young-il
(calling him young-il for clarity's sake)
- It all happened very quickly. Mingle was the most chaotic game yet. After the first two rounds, you quickly grew overwhelmed. The spinning platform didn't make the situation any better. You were getting a bit disoriented, but you were able to mask it fairly well.
- When the voice called out six, your group devised your plan to split up. When you had your plan, you ran to follow Young-il toward a room. As you stepped off the platform, your ankle twisted in a way it definitely wasn't supposed to.
- You fell to the ground, yelling out an expletive as your body hit the ground. Young-il turned around instantly, and upon seeing you, he told the group to run ahead and claim a room.
- He moved closer to you. "What happened?" He asked, his voice loud to cut through the chaos. He offered you a hand to help you up.
- You took his hand, pulling yourself up. You groaned upon bearing weight on your foot. "Twisted my ankle." You said through gritted teeth.
- He wrapped an arm around you, helping to support your weight. "I know it hurts but we have to move." He said before beginning to move. You tried to keep up as much as you could.
- You both barely made it into the door before it slammed shut. You leaned against the wall, lifting your foot up to give it a break. "Thanks." You said breathlessly.
- You limped back over to the platform. You didn't want to make it obvious that you were hurt in fear that they would leave you behind. It's survival of the fittest, after all.
- Young-il turned to face you when he got on top of the platform. He reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. "Stay with me, okay?" He said softly, but you could tell it was more of an order than a request. You nodded.
- When the merry-go-round stopped and the number was announced, his arm wrapped around you to support you again. It was two, so it was just you and him you needed to worry about. You were trying your best to keep up with him. This was high stakes, as there definitely weren't enough rooms in this round.
- Around halfway to the room, you stumbled to the floor. He turned to help you up, but you insisted, "Go claim a room, I'll get there." You said. He was hesitant to leave you, but he knew your idea was the best odds for survival.
- You forced yourself up to a standing position. You took a deep breath and started limping as fast as you could.
- Some other player reached Young-il's room before you did. He snuck his way into the room. "Hurry up and shut the door man!" He shouted.
- Young-il's blood boiled. "Get the fuck out of here before I make you get out." He spat, turning to face the man.
- The man stood his ground. "They are just gonna hold you back, man. They're deadweight. You're better off with-" He was cut off by Young-il grabbing him roughly.
- You made it to the door, getting there with a few seconds to spare. You looked at Young-il. "Throw him out, quickly." You said.
- Young-il made his choice. This man didn't deserve the chance to live. He wrapped an arm around the man's throat, cutting off his airway. "Shut the door." He said, clearly straining.
- Your eyes widened, but you listened. You slammed the door shut. Soon after, you heard a sickening pop, and the player went limp. You didn't say a word. "Player 332, eliminated."
- You wouldn't say the action scared you. You wanted him to be thrown out, which would have resulted the same way. But the personal way that Young-il took the man's life without hesitation was... concerning.
- No matter what just happened, he kept you alive. Even if it was gruesome, it was the reason you are still alive. You took a deep breath, reveling in the fact that the game was over. He pulled you into a hug, let out a relieved sigh.
- "Thank you." You murmured softly. You pulled away when the doors unlocked and swung open. You limped toward the door, frantically searching the crowd for your allies. Young-il stood behind you, doing the same.
- When you started to move toward the exit, he offered you his arm again. You shook your head. You wanted to try to walk on your own, so you only took hold of his arm for balance when you needed it.
- You were scared of looking weak to the others. You already had one player try to get rid of you. You weren't deadweight. You tried to mask any signs that you were in pain, and that worked to hide the injury from most players.
- But Young-il knew what was going through your head, and he wanted to make sure you felt comfortable. When they received dinner with the forks, he started to use the fork as a means to get leverage to tear up the sheet.
- You were puzzled with what he was doing until he brought it over to you. "Can I wrap that up for you? Might give you a bit of stability." He said.
- You were shocked at his thoughtfulness. You really thought you weren't going to get sympathy. You nodded, stretching out your leg. The makeshift ace bandage worked well enough.
- He protected you both in the game and outside of it when he resumed his role as the Front Man. You found extras of your favorites in the tins your dinner came in. Your team was paired with the weakest group in Tug of War, so you had to do the least amount of work for the victory.
- Despite the fact you thought he was dead, he was still in your corner.
Thanos/Su-bong:
- Being an ally with the most chaotic and violent player in the games should have granted you a high level of protection, but being romantically involved with him should make you virtually untouchable. Keyword being "should."
- You ended up cornered in the hall on the return to the dorms from the bathroom. You found yourself pinned to the wall by your throat by another O player.
- "You finally don't have that purple-headed asshole to protect you, huh?" He spat, smirking in your face.
- You tried to struggle against him, leading him to tighten your grip on your throat. "Nuh-uh. You aren't getting away from me until I'm done with you." He said.
- You couldn't really get a sound out to alert anyone, and even if you could, you were probably out of earshot of the players in the dorms.
- The way Thanos found out was overhearing a conversation from two other players. "Where's 438?" One asked. The other snickered. "Taking care of Thanos's bitch." He said with a sick grin.
- Thanos jumped up, scaring Min-su with his sudden movement. "The fuck did you say?" He yelled, moving toward the pair. They realized they messed up and ran off. Thanos wanted to go after them, but reason told him to let them go. For now.
- He rushed over to the hallway, Nam-gyu followed with a roll of his eyes, and Min-su looked around before timidly walking toward the hallway, hovering in the doorway.
- In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you let your knees give out and tried to duck out of his grasp. It allowed you to take a gasp for air, but you couldn't get away. He slammed you back into the wall, and pain radiated through your skull.
- You grabbed his wrist and tried to dig your nails into his skin. He swung his other hand to strike you in the face. You cried out from this, a noise that made Thanos move even faster.
- "Hey asshole, what the fuck are you doing?" He yelled, running up to him and shoving him away from you. You scurried back toward Nam-gyu.
- Thanos saw red. You almost couldn't watch as he kicked the player repeatedly in the stomach. "You motherfucker." He snarled.
- After a few moments, it became harder for you to watch. Nam-gyu interrupted him first. "Thanos, leave it." He urged. He didn't acknowledge him. You heard the man sputter and spit up blood. "Su-bong, please." You pleaded, voice somewhat raspy from the pain in your throat.
- He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath before giving him one more kick and turning to leave. He instantly grabbed your hand as you walked back to the dorms.
- Before you entered the dorm, he stopped in the hallway and pulled you into a hug. He didn't want any other player to recognize that vulnerability. You felt him take a shuddering breath. "It's okay, I'm okay." You said softly.
- When you four got settled in the dorm, Thanos was noticeably quieter than usual. You caught him staring at you multiple times, likely watching the bruise form on your face and neck.
- After around an hour, he suddenly remembered the other guys who knew about your attack. He suddenly tensed up, taking a deep breath before going to stand up. You grabbed his hand. "Don't. Please."
- He sighed before pouting. You rolled your eyes at him. "Fine." He said, dragging out the word. You leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He grinned.
- That night, it was hard for him to sleep. He found himself trying to listen for every noise to assess for any threats. Eventually, he was tired enough that he dragged himself out of his bed and moved to yours.
- He climbed into your bed. You woke up rather quickly, turning toward him. He had scared you slightly, but you didn't mention it. "What's wrong?" You murmured quietly, still half asleep.
- "Couldn't sleep." He replied. He wrapped his arms around you. It was soothing to be sure you were safe. You fell back to sleep soon after, and he followed suit.
- Waking up next to each other felt amazing. You just wished that it was under different circumstances, seeing as you awoke to the music signaling the next game would begin.
Dae-ho:
- You had been in the bathrooms when the brawl began. When you heard the commotion, you wanted to run out to the others. Safety in numbers, right?
- You got to the doorway of the bathroom exit, taking a few steps out before you were noticed by a player. An O. He seemed uninterested until his eyes flickered toward the red badge on your jacket.
- He grew a sick grin. "Looks like I'm gonna take out some trash." He said, brandishing the fork he had from dinner.
- He moved to stab toward your face, and you put your arms up to shield from the blow. You cried out as it embedded in your flesh. You kicked his kneecap, causing him to let go of the fork. He stumbled onto his knees. Without hesitation, you kicked him in the balls, making him scream out.
- You rushed into the other, luckily empty, bathroom. You locked yourself in one of the far stalls, sitting up on the tank of the toilet so your feet wouldn't be seen. You started unspooling toilet paper off the roll and packing it around the fork, which was still in your skin. You didn't think you would be able to take it out yourself without fainting.
- When Dae-ho heard a player run out from the hall yelling about an attack, he looked around and quickly realized that you weren't in the dorms. "Guys, Y/N is back there." He said frantically.
- He went to rush there, but he stopped when Young-il spoke. "I wouldn't go after them. Who knows what you'll be walking into?" He warned.
- Dae-ho glared over at him. "So I'll just leave them back there on their own? Fuck that." He shot back. He was happy to see Jung-bae stand up. "Marines have to have each other's backs, right? I'm with you." He said.
- The two rushed down the hall, dodging someone who was fleeing from the fight covered in someone's blood. When they got to the bathrooms, Dae-ho tried his best not to look in. He didn't want to be reminded of the past he tried to bury.
- Jung-bae scanned the room. "I don't think they're in there." He said. Dae-ho abandoned any care for societal norms and swung open the women's bathroom, since it seemed that only the men's bathroom broke out into a brawl.
- "Y/N?" He called out, starting to walk toward the stalls. The older man stayed by the door to keep it closed. The last thing they needed was those O bastards realizing 3 Xs cornered themselves in the bathroom.
- "Dae-ho?" You responded. You didn't move from your spot, scared it was some kind of trick. You hadn't been able to calm down since locking yourself in. You were terrified that man would come for revenge.
- He let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, it's me. Where are you?" He asked. You got off of your seat. Your uninjured arm trembled as you tried to unlock the door, eventually managing the feat.
- He rushed over after the door swung open. He tried not to look overly shocked by the sight he saw. Your wound didn't seem to be bleeding that badly, but it was enough blood to make him somewhat queasy. But there was also an anger boiling up inside of him.
- "I-I didn't know what to do. So I... I didn't t-touch it. I couldn't." You spoke frantically, stumbling over your words.
- His eyes softened upon seeing the state you were in. "Hey. It's gonna be fine. You're safe now. I'm gonna help you, okay?" He said, trying to console you.
- He started to get a wad of the paper and held in on the side of the fork. "This is probably going to hurt, but I need to do this." He warned. You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut so you didn't need to see it.
- He tried to remove it as gently as he could. You whimpered. "I know, I know, I'm sorry." He murmured. When it was out, he pressed the paper on the wound, holding it by wrapping his hand around your forearm.
- After keeping the pressure for a few moments, he looked you, using his free hand to wipe the tear from your face. "Sir, can you look to see if the brawl has ended?" He called out. You heard the door open, and it was significantly quieter out there. "I think the coast is clear." The older man called back.
- Dae-ho let out a relieved sigh. "Can you hold this?" He asked. You nodded slightly, replacing his hand with your own. You stood up shakily, still bit panicky as the adrenaline started to wear off. When you entered the hallway, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
- When you rejoined your group, most were relieved to see you, but Young-il had a look that you couldn't place. He was almost bitter that Dae-ho hadn't listened to him. Neither of you paid that much attention to it.
- You sat down with your back against the wall. He went to one of the empty beds and pulled the pillowcase off the pillow. He came back and sat down next to you. He managed to wrap the fabric around the wound. It was a bit awkward, but it worked to cover the wound and maintain some pressure.
- He grinned once he tucked the edge into itself and it stayed put. "Good as new." He said jokingly.
- You smiled and laughed, a sound that really put him at ease. "I wouldn't go that far." You said. You paused for a moment before looking up at him. "Thank you for coming back for me." You said sincerely.
- He looked jokingly offended. "As if I would just leave you back there, give me a little credit." He said, voice exuding his boyish charm.
- You decided to play into this. You gave an exaggerated sigh before saying, "My hero!" Like someone in distress would say to the knight who saved them. You leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He felt his face heat up, and you giggled before leaning your head on his shoulder.
- He couldn't get the stupid smile off his face. He was down bad. He made a silent vow to himself to make sure the two of you got out of here. He didn't care if the others would call him naive. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for you.
#nick writes stuff#squid game fanfic#squid game x reader#gi hun x reader#in ho x reader#young il x reader#su bong x reader#thanos x reader#dae ho x reader#injured reader#squid game x you#choi su bong x reader#hwang in ho x reader#seong gi hun x reader#kang dae ho x reader
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in the years that you've known navia, you've come to know her as an extremely capable detective. not one stone goes unturned in her search for clues or answers— which she always gets.
this particular skill set makes her an extremely terrifying gossip.
so normally you'd be thrilled to meet her for your weekly tea, during which she shares the surprising secrets and hidden motives she's unearthed around fontaine.
until it's your turn under her magnifying glass.
"so how long have you been secretly bedding duke wriothesley?"
"archons, navia." you whisper harshly, glancing around the cafe to make sure no one heard. "you can't just say things like that!"
"what? it's just an innocent question!" she defends, though that spark in her eyes is anything but.
"do you have to ask when half of fontaine is within earshot?"
"better clear the air while they're all listening then," she teases, tapping her ear. "because i heard it from clorinde, who heard it from the traveler, who heard it from sigewinne, who said she heard the two of you—"
just when you're starting to feel like you need a lawyer present, the barista calls next, granting you a much needed path of escape.
"hi," you start, ignoring navia's protests. "i'll have—"
"vanilla latte," a familiar voice finishes next to you. you can practically hear the smirk on wriothesley's lips.
"yes," you confirm. "and an—"
"almond croissant," he finishes proudly, lik he's aced some sort of test. "the order's on me."
"oh no," you argue, defiance jumping as he pulls out his wallet. "i have my own money."
he nudges your hand aside. "i'm sure you do, but i want to use mine."
you push back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes when he interlocks his pinky with yours. "well i don't want you to."
"stubborn," he tuts, dipping his head down and angling his broad, sturdy frame toward you. "do you want me to beg? i know you love it when i'm down on my knees in front of you."
your face is suddenly hot. at the memory of the last time he'd been on his knees, and with embarassment when navia makes an amused noise behind you.
"fine," you huff, hoping you don't look as flustered as you feel as you pull your hand away. you don't want to draw anymore attention than you already have, and having the fortress of meriopide's warden on his knees in front of you is something you're sure you'll never recover from. "then i'll take one of every pastry you have today, please."
the barista looks at wriothesley, who's beaming as if he's just won a round in the ring. "fine with me."
once you have the absurd amount of pastries boxed up in your arms — you can already hear the children's squeals when you return to the house of the hearth — you step away with wriothesley, who looks extremely pleased with himself.
"you didn't order anything for yourself." you state, confused.
he simply shrugs, nonchalant as he tells you, "oh, i didn't want anything. i just came to see you."
---
a few days later finds you throwing wriothesley's bedroom door open, this week's copy of the steambird in your clenched fist.
"wriothesley!"
"un instant, mademoiselle!" he calls, voice muffled through the bathroom door.
so you direct your glare down at the picture of the two of you splashed across the front page in the meantime. this wasn't how everyone was supposed to find out about this thing that wasn't really a thing yet.
"we're in the paper!" you tell him, pacing the floor of his bedroom. "there are pictures of us under the headline 'duke wriothesley: finally tamed?' navia is even listed here as a source! she gets her information from clorinde who gets it from the traveler who gets it from sigewinne--"
"headline's not wrong."
wriothesley is leaning against the doorframe, wearing nothing but a towel that's hanging dangerously low on his hips. the whole bulk of him practically fills the space and it's making your head spin.
"what, are you done already?" he asks. "can't ogle me and yell at the same time?"
your mouth snaps shut as you jerk your head to the side. not so much out of embarrassment for being caught staring, but more out of reckless panic. "can you put some clothes on please?"
he makes no move to do so, looking extremely pleased with himself. "you wanted to talk, right? so let's talk."
he takes a step toward you, and you fight the instinct to take one back, wanting to stand your ground. "stop it! you're trying to distract me! we're trying to keep this a secret, you can't just show up at the cafe and--"
"i didn't just show up," he defends. "i fully own that i followed you there. i just wanted to see you and pay for your coffee."
"why?"
"because that's what good boyfriends do."
you shake your head. "you're not my boyfriend."
"really? because i sure felt like your boyfriend when you were making out with me in my office the other night..."
"wriothesley!" you're horrified that he's said that out loud. the corner of his mouth quirks, a look you recognize as satisfied.
no matter where you are in the fortress, the duke always finds a way to intercept you, tucking the two of you into places out of sight. there aren't many, with inmates and guards covering almost every inch of the place. last night you'd had your hands all over each other before the door of his office could even swing shut.
a hand comes up to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. when had he gotten so close?
"hey, i'm sorry," he murmurs, lips brushing your forehead. "until you're ready, we don't have to be seen together in public anymore. i'll work my contacts at the steambird, get this article pulled."
"thank you," you sigh, leaning into him. "wriothesley, you're not my dirty secret and i never want you to think that. i just...i like what we are right now. and if father finds out..."
"and i'm happy to wait."
in the soft candlelight of his room, the world around you falls away. here, you're not worried what everyone thinks of you. all you can focus on are his eyes are fixed on yours, the corner of his mouth curving upward, and his hand smoothing over the small of your back as he pulls you in.
his towel falls before his lips can touch yours.
you look down, not entirely hating what you see as the duke watches your reaction, smug satisfaction written all over his face.
"stuff of fantasies, huh?"
#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#genshin x reader#genshin x you#also just fyi in all my wriothesley fics reader is part of the fatui
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I appreciate the modifier "almost". Now, there was definitely a shift between the idealism of the white picket fence, the perfect family, Honey, I'm home world of the 50s and 60s, and say Married with Children, or The Simpsons. Both great sitcoms in their own right, but it was definitely a relatively new trope of the tit for tat between Peg and Al, or walking through the door to find Lisa on a hunger strike, and Bart smashing a hole through the drywall with a hammer, because reasons.
But there was this trope that definitely started more in the mid to latter period of our idealized Americana, and it most quickly comes to mind with The Flintstones. Now, I've opined on this before, but it bugs the hell out of me, because it's one we haven't yet been able to crack. It remains insidious. There's two sides to this. The first, and perhaps most obvious, is the fact that while Fred and Wilma love each other, one wrong move and she can be an absolute balls cutting bitch. Like seriously, if you have to sneak around to go bowling with the water buffalo lodge, crawling through the window of your own home because it's late and Wilma is either waiting to beat your ass with a cast iron skillet, or get pissed off and go to her mother's with the kid, what the hell is that? Like, living in the real non-idealized world, I don't have to worry about these sort of retributions. There is not going to be punishment or resentment because I want to hang out with my friends.
But then the other side, probably more subtle, is the fact that Fred is a freaking clod. And in this trope, the man always is. Wilma is pissed because Fred managed to forget their anniversary, went out bowling with the guys instead, said he'd be home by 8:00 to watch the kid because Wilma has a graniteware party or some shit that she told him about weeks ago, and instead comes sneaking in at a quarter to 12.
Now of course, the writing on this is just cheap humor. Supposedly relatable, one of those "uh oh, Fred's in the dog house again, we've all been there" sort of things. That's the point of a sitcom, it's idealized, dramatized, all sorts of other ized... but this thing started around that time, and it remains damaging to this day. Because if you look at male female couples as portrayed by the media, you see one of two things.
Going back to the age of The Flintstones, Fred is this big stupid blowhard popping off to anyone who will listen that he's the man of the house, he's not going to take no guff from Wilma for hanging out with the guys, and then comes home completely cucked both because she's downright vicious, but also kind of has a point because he's in the wrong, and is too arrogant to realize it because man. She's been cooking and cleaning all day, she asked him to do one thing, and he managed to screw it up because man. And you see that these days. Oh, she's pissed off, well he's just going to double down, he's going to tell her who the man of the house is, and then he gets the look. Granted, you see this one quite a bit less as time has gone on, because in general, you see strong men a lot less.
So then there's the other thing, and this is a more modern take, where the man is just a fucking idiot. I mean just this completely helpless man-child, thank goodness he is with this snarky judgmental always right woman, because if it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be able to tie his shoes. Anything more complicated than football, nachos, and grunting, he is invariably going to fuck up, so we need her to come to the rescue by clicking something on her cell phone and calling in professionals to deal with it. Of course, while giving a snarky comment, and a holier than thou look. Good thing he's busy watching the game, he won't be in the way when she's getting railed by the plumber she had to call because he couldn't figure out how to put soap in the dishwasher.
What It ultimately boils down to is partnership. I won't even say equality, because that word has been really somewhat co-opted, and wouldn't come across is what I'm trying to get at. Marriage is a partnership. And there are traditional roles. But that is certainly not to say that you are locked into them. Historically, the man does the outside yard work, maybe not the flower gardening, works and provides for the family, the woman takes care of the inside stuff, the cooking the cleaning the vacuuming and all that. He provides for the home, she makes the home. And there is nothing wrong with this, that was a big change with the radfem movement of the 60s, was this idea that so-called traditional gender roles were somehow subjugating to women.
So in our case, I'm the primary provider, I maintain the outside of the house, the home repairs and upkeep, let's call that the traditional masculine gender role. But then I also do most of the cooking. I enjoy it, and I happen to be a trained chef. I'm also home first by a couple hours. The laundry is, I would say, probably split evenly if not leaning a little more towards me, but then it's like I'll do the laundry, but she'll fold and put away all the laundry. Partnership. What It ultimately boils down to is what needs doing. If I'm in the kitchen and the dishwasher needs unloading and reloading, then I'll probably do it. Or maybe she will. She might vacuum, I might vacuum, it just depends who decides to take it upon themselves to do it.
So in a partnership, neither of you are stuck doing a certain thing, or more to the point condemned to do it because of some arbitrary rule. Like she has never mowed the lawn, but that's because it's something that I really enjoy doing. It's a great way to blow off the stress of the work week, it's something that I just really like. And I can't think of any chore around here that she's done that I haven't, but that's because I lived with roommates or out on my own for quite a few years.
I'm getting off on a tangent here, but the point is, we somehow went from an idealism that was based on a reality of partnership, to this almost him versus her scenario. If I had to sneak around and lie to hang out with my friends because she's going to be pissed off no matter what, I wouldn't have married her. And she is strong, intelligent, and beautiful, so if I was one of those "woman, I worked all day, get in that kitchen and cook me a steak" kind of lunkheads, I would hope she wouldn't have married me either. I recognize that. I'm 41 years old. And was raised with two parents, both of whom were in a partnership to run the house and raise a family.
I mean, imagine being a young man today. If you have any kind of strength or self-confidence, you're told that's toxic masculinity, and you just can't be doing that. All your masculine role models in the media are cucks, and why would you want to date the judgmental trash that is portrayed as a woman. This shit needs to change, and I'm not talking a Hallmark movie script either; real, substantive change. Nuclear family, backbone of society, partnerships, in which both parties better each other. 🥔
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Can you do reader x luigi where they are best friends and are lying on her bed and theres soooooo much tension and they finally fuck and its sooooo cute cus hes so gentle and sweet but also its super hot because shes never been eaten out before and its awesome!!! Plspslslslss full length!!!
The Space Between - Luigi Mangione x reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI - smut, swearing.
Author's note: Thank you for the request. I hope you all like this! Let me know what you think or if you have any more requests.
Word count: 2,895
It was Friday night and there was no other place Y/N wanted to be than in her apartment. While others got ready for a night on the town dressed in their best, Y/N was currently in her pajamas. Her apartment was clean, she ordered takeout, she had several candles illuminating her apartment, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere she was after. She had her favorite movie queued up, this was her definition of a perfect Friday night. Her friend group invited her out to a night of copious drinking and karaoke, but she politely declined. Her night was planned eat her dinner and dessert while watching several of her favorite movies, do her nightly routine, and be in bed with a good book by 9:30 and fall asleep.
She always planned her Friday nights, its what gets her through her week. When she's bored at work she'll create a list of movies/tv shows she wants to watch, make note of that restaurant she saw on Postmates that looked good that she decides she will order from, Y/N has always been a planner, and she doesn't mess around about her Friday nights in. Her Friday night went on without a hitch, the movies she chose were always good, of course they were they were her comfort movies. The dinner she had that night from a local Thai place was delicious that she finished it 30 minutes into her first movie, and the chocolate chip cookies she made were baked to perfection.
It was now 9:30, on the dot she finished her skincare routine and was not in bed with her book in her hand and the book light being the only source of light illuminating her room. She sighed, content with how her enjoyable her Friday night was. Just as she was sinking into bed, there was a knock at her apartment door.
She shuffled out of bed, dragging her feet annoyed and seemingly on the verge of throwing a tantrum. She looked through the peep hole to see Luigi, she opened the door with a huff, "What do you want?"
He let out a breath smiling, his upbeat energy annoyed Y/N, she just wanted to read her book in bed, in her cozy warm bed. But no. She was standing at the threshold of her apartment door, there was a cold draft, she was tired, annoyed and Luigi was smiling. He was dressed in white basketball shorts and a plain blue shirt. He had on his black nike sneakers and he still smiling holding a book in his hand. She wanted to smack him with the book that was in his hand- wait, why is he carrying a book? No, she thought. He better not- I swear to God. If he's here for the reason that I think he is here I'm going to--
"I thought I'd stop by and join your coveted Friday night reading sessions," he replied brightly walking past her into her apartment and making his way into her room. It took her a second to realize he'd just charmed his way into her apartment, she quickly slammed the door and locked in, making her way to her bedroom. When she arrived at her bedroom door, he had already removed his shoes, turned on her bed side lamp, and was laying on the other side of her bed.
"Do you have an extra book light?" he asked casually. She was frozen at her door, still in a state of disbelief. He ignored the look of shock on her face, when Y/N finally picked her jaw off the ground she sputtered, "W-what you want a- what are you doing here Lu?" she finally asked.
"I'm here to read with you. You never want to go out with us on Friday nights and you seem to love what you do on Friday telling us about it the next day so I thought I'd join. It seems like a perfect evening. What movies did you watch?" he asked casually.
Luigi and Y/N's other friends have a group chat that is very chaotic, no one ever really reads what she writes unless it's something important or a direct question. So what she's done ever since Y/N started her 'Friday night tradition' is recap what she did for her coveted Friday night. Y/N provides a daily recap of the night; what movies/shows she watched, what she ate, and what book she read in bed. No one ever interacted with her Friday night recaps, so she just assumed they either skimmed it or didn't read it. But Luigi being himself, of course he read it and invited himself to the silent reading portion of the night.
Y/N sighed, "I didn't think you actually read my recaps."
He looked up at her and said very seriously, "Of course I did, you're my friend I like hearing about what you're up to."
Before Y/N could kick him out he interjected, "Look, if I really am going to ruin your Friday night, I can leave. I just thought it could be fun to read together and maybe even discuss and show each other what we're reading."
How could she tell him to leave? He looked up at her with his book in his lap, ankles crossed, and with a look of genuine excitement. Y/N kneeled down to open the bed side table drawer, and handed him a book light. He had the biggest smile on his face as she made her way to her side of the bed. They both sat in silence reading your books. Y/N opted for a romance novel and Luigi was reading a historical fiction book. The room was silent except for the occasional turning of a page and the sounds of the city outside her bedroom window.
An hour into the reading session, Y/N had slumped further into her bed. She could feel a pair of eyes on her and she turned to face Luigi. He was staring at her, the goofy smile from earlier no longer on his face. His gaze was softer than she'd ever seen, it was almost careful.
"Why are looking at me like that?" she asked placing her book off to the side. She noticed his book wasn't even open, it laid flatly on his chest.
"When you read, you mouth the words," he replied absentmindedly.
"Okay," she laughed. "And what about it?"
"It's adorable," he replied.
She cleared her throat unsure of how to respond, but decides on a quick 'thanks' under her breath. She tries to go back to reading, but the interaction created a tension in the air that changed the entire mood of the night. She was unsure of how to act, how to respond, what to even-think. Her other friends in their friend group would mention how Luigi was different with her and she would just say he's like that with everyone, it's Luigi he's kind. But her friends would point out the lingering stares or how he would always have her attention, how when he made a joke he always looked to her for approval. It was subtle, but it was there. And this moment solidified it for her.
She never wanted to confront it because she liked being friends with Luigi, she never really had a lot of friends before meeting this core group she had now. He was the friend she prayed for. Attentive, caring, thoughtful. Not that her other friends were, but with Luigi it was just different. If she said something and no one heard it, he would say it loudly so that they would hear. If she wanted to go somewhere no one else wanted to go, he would go with her so she wouldn't go alone. If she said something and no one acknowledged it, he would. She never wanted to mess that up or lose that by pursuing something more than a friendship with him.
"Luigi-" she started.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"What if-" she began.
"It won't change anything, I promise. You'll have me, no matter what happens, you'll always have me. I'm always going to be here." He replied softly.
She nodded.
"Y/N, I need you to say it."
"You can kiss me Lu," she whispered.
He was shaking, she could sense his nervousness as he maneuvered to face her. She had moved to be nearer to him He was now in front of her his hands cradling her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek. She like this, she leaned into his touch. He leaned forward and she met him halfway, their lips moved slowly. Luigi sighed into the kiss as if he finally let out a breath he'd been hold for far too long. Y/N pulled away smiling, and quickly pecked his lips causing Luigi to smile.
Y/N leaned forward and initiated another kiss and deepening it, she wants this. She wants Luigi. She made it very clear when she straddled him, he let out a groan pulling away. "Are you sure?" he asked. She was now grinding against him hoping that would answer his question, he placed his hands on her hips to stop her movements, she groaned in protest hiding her face in his neck. He pulled her back so that he could look at her, moving the hair out of her face so that he could see her.
"Baby- I need to hear you say it. I need to hear you say you want this," he said panting.
She nodded her head quickly, "Yes Lu, please."
"How do you like it?" he asked. "What's off the table?"
"Nothing, do what ever you want to me Lu, I don't care just touch me please" she said desperately.
"Okay, tell me if it's too much." he replied kissing her lips before flipping her over she yelped in shock and he laughed kissing her lips hungrily. He moved to her neck and when he surfaced again and she could see his face, something changed. Luigi looked more serious, he wasn't smiling anymore.
"Open," was all he said.
Y/N obliged. She opened her mouth sticking out her tongue. Luigi spit in her mouth, "Swallow it" was all he said. She did as she was told and opened her mouth to show him she had obeyed.
"Good girl," he replied. "Good fucking girl."
He began removing her pajamas and she laid naked in front of him, there was something about having him completely clothed and her fully naked in front of him on display. His eyes explored every inch of her body, "You're so beautiful" he replied breathlessly. Y/N began to sit up to remove his clothing, but he pushed her back onto the bed causing her to bounce a bit. "Did I say you could touch me?" he asked his voice more stern and dominant. "No," she replied softly.
He slapped her cheek lightly and gripped her chin, his thumb was near the corner of her mouth, she took hold of his wrist and put his thumb in her mouth sucking lightly. She removed his thumb and looked up at him, "I'm sorry daddy," she replied. The domineering look in his face faltered as his jaw slacked, he ripped his thumb away from her mouth and began tearing off his clothing as if they were on fire.
Their mouth and hands took turns exploring each other's body leaving her moaning his name and calling him 'daddy' and begging him to fuck her already which she learned he loved being called that. She was gripping his biceps when she felt him teasing the entrance of her pussy with his fingers, she moaned trying to move her hips to speed up the movement. His middle finger was playing with her entrance and the wet noises from her pussy filled the room.
"Whose this pussy belong to?" he asked continuing his cruel teasing.
"Yours," she replied breathlessly her eyes closed.
"Open your eyes and tell me who this pussy belongs to," he replied slowly and sternly.
She opened her eyes and choked out, "Yours-" thats when he slammed his fingers into her and kept them there. She let out a yelp and cry of relief. He began moving his fingers in and out her pussy, the sounds of her wetness and her moans filling the room. He didn't stop, he place his left hand on the space above her pussy and below her navel to create pressure and it made the sensation even more enjoyable. Where the hell did he learn that? she thought to herself. She was moaning and screaming his name has he continued to please he with his fingers, she tried to stimulate her clit but he pushed her hand away and said something about it being his job to please her, she wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. The next thing she knew she squirted and she screamed from relief.
She heard Luigi groan and she opened her eyes as her chest moved up and down rapidly that she had soaked her bed and his chest. His perfectly sculpted chest was drench in her wetness. She closed her legs and her hand covered her mouth in shock, Luigi looked at her and then looked down at his chest. They didn't say anything for what felt like hours to her.
"Open your legs baby, I need to fuck you," he replied hurridly.
She obliged, he leaned down spit on her pussy, slapping it. A bit sensitive, Y/N yelped in shock and moaned in pleasure as his cock slammed into her. He held onto her hips as he continued to fuck her into the mattress.
"Are you going to come again for me?" he asked moving one of his hand's from her hips to grip her breast. Y/N was fucked out. She couldn't respond, but Luigi was a talker. He asked her again gripping her chin with his thumb and index finger, "Hey- are you going to come for me again?" he asked more sternly.
"Yes, I'm going to come" she replied breathlessly.
"No one's ever made you squirt like that huh?" he asked.
"No one has, you're the only one" she replied.
"Fuck-" he groaned picking up speed. Her breasts were swaying back and forth from the force of his thrusts, she could tell he was close.
"You're the only one whose ever made me squirt Lu, you're the only one" she replied holding one of his hands, he intertwined their fingers.
"Y/N fuck- fuck I'm coming-- I'm comin- Y/N I-" he couldn't even get the sentence out and Y/N wouldn't had even heard it as the blood rushed to her ears as she came hard. He collapsed on top of her their chests rising and falling rapidly. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, caressing the hair at the name of his neck. He lifted up his head to look at her, his signature Luigi smiled plastered on his face. It was a contrast to who he was minutes ago slapping her face and condescendingly nodding when asking her if his cock felt good inside of her.
"Was that okay?" he asked. He was overthinking, typical Luigi.
"Yes baby that was more than okay, I think me coming twice proves that" she replied amused at his look of shyness.
"Okay I just wasn't sure if you'd be into me being rough and I didn't want to hurt you and I-" she cut him off by kissing him.
She pulled away, "I'm fine, I loved it." she replied sweetly and he smiled shyly embarrassed and replied with an 'okay good' under his breath, she could see a proud smile forming on his face.
"So how are we going to explain us to the others?" he asked.
"I'm not sure, maybe we can get a cake or something and write 'Hey we did it' and present it to them." she said.
"That's a good idea" he replied truthfully. Y/N always liked how he got her humor. "But first we need to go to CVS" he replied.
"Why?" Y/N asked.
"To get the cake and a Plan B. They have cake at CVS?" he asked making his way to her side of the bed picking her up bridal style. Y/N let out a yelp in shock.
"They don't have cake at CVS," she replied dryly.
"Okay we'll get the Plan B tonight and we'll wake up early and stop by the bakery." Luigi replied.
"You're sleeping over I assume?" Y/N asked lifting her eyebrows as Luigi continued walking in the direction of the bathroom.
"Of course I am baby, it's going to be our Friday night tradition and make sure you let the group chat know how this Friday night was I want to hear a full breakdown, review, and rating of tonight's events." Luigi said enthusiastically.
"Lu I am not telling them that we slept together and I sure as hell am not rating it" Y/N replied shocked.
Luigi replied, "I'm kidding baby, but I would like some one on one feedback if you don't mind" he replied wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he lead them into the shower.
#luigi mangione fluff#luigi mangione smut#luigi mangione#luigi mangione fanfiction#luigi mangione x reader#luigi mangione request#luigi#luigi mangione imagine
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So Is it Your Place Or Mine?
bfd!joel miller x younger!reader
summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)
word count: 3,701 words
side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)
part: prev | masterlist | next
"What do you mean you're not coming?"
It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.
Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.
"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"
Bullshit.
Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.
"Need help?"
His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.
"I'm at my dorm, sorry"
Double bullshit.
Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.
"I can drop by later then" she suggests.
His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.
"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.
"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"
He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?
"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"
I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.
"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.
Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?
"Should I worry?"
Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.
"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.
"Is it okay if I-"
"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.
"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"
He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.
"What I want is you"
The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.
The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.
It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.
The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.
"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.
When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.
"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"
You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.
"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.
"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.
"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.
"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"
"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.
He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.
"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.
Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.
He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.
"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"
You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.
"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?
He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.
"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"
You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.
He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"
To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.
He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.
"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"
Mine.
The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?
No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?
He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.
"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.
"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"
"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"
Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.
"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"
"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.
"Then take it, hungry one"
His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.
"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.
"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"
His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"
You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.
"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"
Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"
"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"
Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.
But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.
"Joel..." you breath out his name.
"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.
"K-keep going"
Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.
Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.
"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"
You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.
"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"
His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.
If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.
Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.
You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.
"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"
You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.
"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"
He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.
"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.
Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.
"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"
Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.
"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.
"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"
You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.
You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.
But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.
You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.
"I want to ride your belt buckle"
There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.
"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"
"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"
"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"
"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.
He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.
"Get'ere you filthy slut"
You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.
"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"
You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.
"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"
His heart takes a dangerous leap.
"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"
You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.
"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.
"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"
"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"
"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"
You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.
"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"
"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"
"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"
You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.
"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.
Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.
"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.
You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.
For a moment, it feels like it could be.
"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#bfd!joel miller#bfd!joel#tlou#tlou fanfiction#to the devil i know series
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𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙎𝙃.
︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯.
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦.
𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩! 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨.
You have just moved to the outer banks, some may call it the paradise on earth but you don't exactly see why people call it that since many of your interactions have been with stuck up bitches.
There's also these names being thrown around, "kook" and "pogue" you have no idea what either of them are but from what you can tell being a pogue isn't to good.
You move to the figure 8 a real beautiful place in the outer banks, rich cars, big mansions, mini mansions and golf courses. After you move you often visit the huge community garden.
It's been about a month since you moved, your days usually consisting of reading, tanning, visiting the garden and sometimes swimming. You didn't really have any friends. Until about a few day ago a girl named Sarah Cameron sees you in the garden and pursues a conversation with you...
"Those are probably the most beautiful hydrangeas i've seen." Her feminine voice cuts through the sudden silence and murmurs of the garden.
You gasp with a panicked looked and whip your head back, startled from the sudden voice.
"Im so sorry! i didnt mean to startle you! are you okay?" Sarah jumbles out with guilt.
You are slightly surprised she was even talking to you, but decide to smile softly and shyly say "Its okay, you didn't mean to."
She smiles with you and holds out her hand, "Im Sarah by the way, i love that top of yours it's so gorgeous"
"Thank you! i love your shorts! the bows add a nice touch" You hear a deep masculine voice call out for Sarah, the voice didn't sound too far, Sarah heard the voice then turns around and say "Over here!"
You look around awkwardly, a random girl randomly comes and talks to you, if you didn't know any better you would think it's a setup of some kind, but you gave her and her... friends.. the benefit of the doubt and turn around and continue gazing at the hydrangeas.
After a few seconds you hear a pair of footsteps, your back is to them so you continue minding your business.
"Who's your friend?" Another deep voice says, his was higher than the one before.
Them calling out your presence causes you to turn around slightly panicked and feeling slightly ambushed by the attention.
You see a Sarah standing next to a tall guy with slightly slicked back blonde hair and a buttoned up shirt.. a bit fancy for a garden but whatever, on the other side of him theres this gorgeous man..
Tall, buzzed cut brunette hair, beautiful blue eyes, sunkissed and one hell of a smile.
You were at a lost for words, completely frozen just staring at this man, and he was staring right back at you with the same amount of maybe admiration..? lust? you didn't know, but you gazed right back into his slim blue eyes.
"This is uh.. uhm.. i didnt catch her name.." Sarah says sheepishly with a small smile.
She wait a few minutes as her, and both mystery men were staring at you.
The mystery guy with blonde hair looks at the blue eyed boy then looks at you catching on to what was happening and snickers. Sarah, completely oblivious then waves her hands "Helloooo? Earth to mystery girl".
This causes you to snap out of the i guess you could say.. trance? you were in and look at her and blonde boy, "Sorry! Im Y/N!"
Sarah smiles and says "Well this is my boyfriend Topper" She looks up at the blonde dude and he just smiles and extends his hand for you to shake . He gave off a vibe of one of those douchebags who act innocent.
You shake his hand and smile, you then look at the buzzed brunette waiting to get his name, you were excited even.
"Im Rafe, Rafe Cameron." He says with a full smile, perfectly white teeth. 'Jesus he's like my dream man' you thought.
Eager, you go to shake his hand quicker than you did with the others.
It was safe to say you were intrigued with Rafe and his presence.
They ask if you wanted to join them to see the rest of the flowers, little did they know you already saw them all and really enjoyed going to the garden. Nonetheless you still agree deeming them kind with pure intentions.
Here you are now, back in the garden, your new safe haven in the crazy world. A picture of the gorgeous boy pops in your head, his smirk, his eyes.. his big veiny hands you imagine him touching you in all the right places with them. You squeeze your legs at the thought, praying no one noticed.
"Well well well.. if it isnt new girl in town, with a slight staring problem" That familiar deep voice murmurs from behind you.
You turn around, surprised to hear his voice again.
"Seems like you also have a staring problem from what i recall?" You say with a slight smirk.
He grins at you and nods, 'he looks fucking perfect' you thought. Sunkissed skin, a nice baby blue button up, khaki shorts and a glimmering silver chain.
You were admiring him once again which he notices immediately and smirks.
"You are adorable" He says.
This catches you off guard and snaps you immediately out of the trance, adorable?? 'is he flirting with me right now??, what should i say??' you panic. You immedietly recover.
"Adorable you say? why's that hm?" You say with false confidence.
"Your little cute dress and bows." He says while moving his hands towards your bow and his smirk forming into a smile.
You smile and blush at the compliment at a loss of words. You didnt exactly know what to do or how to react, you didnt exactly have much experience with stuff like this.
Noticing your pause, he lunges towards the hibiscus bush and plucks one off the leafy bush, then proceeds to put it in your hair which pulls your bang back.
You two were close, extremely close. You look up at him with a smile, still blushing profusely.
He looks down at you with a small smirk.
So much tension was in the air. You only just met this guy.. how could you feel this way about him after one interaction. You felt a little embarrassed, but the way he looks at you, the way his hand felt with yours, the way his presence alone speaks volumes was more than enough to override the embarrassment.
"Thank you.." You squeak out nervously with a smile.
"No problem" He murmurs, his icy blue eyes still boring into yours. After a few moments and the whispers of the wind, he backs away slightly.
You couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, which was pathetic considering you just met him and dont exactly know him.
But that adds to the intrigue you have.
Rafe on the other hand couldnt believe his eyes. When he first walked into the garden he immediately spotted you, 'The gorgeous girl from last week'.
Before he had a chance to go up and speak to you, you were already off and walking away towards the bush area of the garden.
He decided to pursue you and walk in your direction.
When he met you for the first time he couldn't believe his eyes. You didnt look anywhere taller than 5'2 or 5'3, luscious blonde hair that when kissed by the sunlight seemed to glow, gorgeous green eyes and a cute little pink dress.
He knew the moment he laid eyes on you, he had to have you, despite you being new to the island and typically tried to avoid the 'newbies'.
When your pretty green doe eyes first gazed into his and made eye contact, he felt his heart beat fast. 'Jesus she's making me feel things.. we only just met' He thought.
When you spoke in that soft and sweet tone, he was on a mission to hear that voice again.. and again.. and again.. he'd never get tired of hearing it.
After the first interaction, he was eager to run into you again, so he thought 'There a chance i could catch her at the garden again, you cant see everything after one visit...'
And he was sure right, he laid eyes on you and immediately felt giddy, which was something that doesn't happen often.
Now here you two were, with smiles on your faces. And you decide to speak up.
"How's Sarah?"
"She okay, i think you should hang with us, last time you did it was pretty fun" Rafe says with a smile.
You feel like jumping up and down with excitement but obviously you couldnt so you just grin and say "Well thank you, you guys were pretty fun to! and i'd love to hang with yall again!"
He smiles and nods. He pauses for a second seeming like he was contemplating.
He then says, "How about we hang one on one? You and I?"
You are completely caught off guard but nonetheless you were extremely happy that he suggested that.
You nod your head and softly say "I'd love that. When would you like to?"
He smiles and looks around, "Now sounds perfect. Is that okay?"
You say 'yes of course' embarrassingly fast and eager.
You both persue the garden looking at different bushes and flowers and facts about them you didnt focus to much on it since you've been there a lot. You mainly focus on the conversations you have with Rafe.
The similarities you both have, your hobbies and what makes you happy. You both bonded greatly.
You couldn't stop grinning and having a feeling of luck.
You both eventually get tired of walking and he offers to take you to a restaurant called 'The Wreck' and you obviously agree.
You two had a great time and you got to know him very well and you both clicked. You felt happy, light and airy once he dropped you off home. You were really starting to feel glad to be in the Outer Banks. Thanks to Rafe Cameron.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 ☄. *. ⋆
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!
─────⋆˚࿔𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────
#⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜!#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx#obx fic#outer banks#obx smut#rafe fanfic#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe smut#rafe x reader smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#outer banks au#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks x reader#outerbanks#rafe outerbanks#drew starkey x reader#bf!rafe
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Icarus blinks confused on what the fuck is happening. Soon beirce enters and he scurry’s back to his bed.
She hisses at him harshly.
🕯️"your supposed to be in bed."🕯️
Icarus flinches a bit and looks at his feet.
🕯️"I know, I know… I was just worried… you’ve been gone days and- I was scared the demons-"🕯️
She cuts him off.
🕯️"exactly why you are to stay here, unless I tell you to leave."🕯️
Icarus nods slowly… looking at his feet before mumbling.
Beirce dumbs some stuff on a table, jewels, knifes and supplies. She starts to talk.
🕯️"we’re going after the last ring piece."🕯️
She says coldly.. Icarus seems a little panicked by the statement. His eyes widen and he stammers a bit.
🕯️"a-already?… right after that… weather event..? We’re-we’re staving lady beirce! I feel like that should be- the- the last thing we need! People are sick, and- and dying!"🕯️
🕯️"…something happened with the people. They are okay now….—"🕯️
She lowers her hood, revealing her scared face, and snake like eyes. The scar is an ugly one. Looks like a sword and opened up the side of her lip permanently, revealing teeth.
🕯️"—I need to figure out who helped the people after this… I assumed it to be you… disobeying me to not go outside while I’m gone… but…"🕯️
She goes up to him and grabs his face. The poor guy trembles with fear as her clawed tails grip his face tightly.
🕯️"…but you wouldn’t do that… and have the courage to try to deceive me from it… right? You aren’t that idiotic, that you think I wouldn’t notice?"🕯️
Doug is whimpers.
🕯️"n-no! No-no-no ma’am! I didn’t! I swear on my soul! I- I can barely use my magic! You know that! It’s fading by the day, and you forbidden me from using it! Please, I swear!"🕯️
He pleads with pure terror. The bierces eyes narrow, the green in them nearly glowing in the dark… she the lifts her other hand to his face… he winces a bit before she… slowly combs through his hair with her long nails.
🕯️"….good… you know how I feel about those who go against my wishes, Doug… and I’ve always favoured you… so i would be left.. heartbroken, if you did lie… you know being in here is for your own good…"🕯️ she smiles slightly 🕯️"—but I suppose if you did help the people… I wouldn’t mind.. and it doesn’t make sense to lie about such a thing…"🕯️
She lets go, and gently pats down his hair. He relaxes slowly.
🕯️"fingering out whoever did that will be solved another day… now. Get ready. We make for the castle at dawn."🕯️
She gets up, and leaves once more…Icarus lets out the breath he was holding as a sigh of relief… he slowly gets ready for whatever beirce is planning without hesitation or thought.
The multiverse is full of infinite possibilities...
Most worlds tend to connect through similar builds. Through stories, people, themes...
It's no surprise seeing a stranger to the multiverse. What IS surprising, however, was his condition. Covered in deep wounds, limbs twisted and torn, and he appeared to be drowning in his own blood by the time he was found. Holy weapons were embedded in his skin, and the flesh sizzled liked bacon around it.
He had red skin, gray hooves, horns that looked far too round and circular to have normally grown out of his head. His long pointed tail is covered in hand prints, and there are bones exposed out of his back. He lays face first in a pool of his own boiling blood, barely breathing or moving.
@ask-underfazverse
Cry’s come from the mass amounts of strangers, many just back away to cowedly to do anything, but a few step up, and begin to heal him. Mainly the younger, less evil Malak’s, a few Doug’s that are just simply concerned, and only one Bierce.
Dream Malak very hurriedly takes him to his hospital, with the help of the others.
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hi loveee!! hope you’re doing well!
i was wondering if i could request no Voldemort AU, Wolfstar!daughter reader where her parents and harry’s parents have been making jokes about her and harry dating, and since then they have seen her slowly fade and eating less and kind of just drifting away for a few months, and when her parents, lily, and james talk to her about it she just tells them she likes girls and was really scared of telling them because she felt she was disappointing them.
if you don’t feel comfortable that’s totally fine!! love your work
An: Thank you and I'm sorry this took so long! I got a little carried away I am so sorry.
Expectations
Wolfstar!Daughter who is struggling to express her sexuality...
Summary: (See above) Reminiscing on some romantic encounters, you have come to the conclusion Harry Potter is not someone you'd ever date. HURT/COMFORT
WC: 7.1k
CW: The reader is so gay, she kissed Luna and Ginny, almost kissed Hermione, some intense negative self talk, mentions of not eating and guilty James and Sirius
The warm smell of toast and coffee wafted through the kitchen as you thundered down the stairs, your shoes slapping against the wood with unbothered energy. The kitchen was alive with the sound of the radio crackling softly in the corner, a cheerful tune mingling with the chatter of voices and the occasional clink of dishes.
Lily stood at the stove, flicking her wand to keep the eggs from burning. James leaned casually against the counter, chewing on a piece of toast and grinning at Sirius, who was regaling everyone with a clearly exaggerated story about his work as an Auror the day before. Remus sat at the table, reading the Daily Prophet with a steaming cup of tea in his hand.
You slipped past Lily with precision, she hardly glanced over her shoulder, smirking. “Late again, I see. I suppose your grand entrance was worth skipping breakfast?”
You gave her a cheeky grin, swiping the slice of toast right out of James’s hand as you breezed by. “Skipping? Please, I’m right on time,” You quipped, taking a dramatic bite and ignoring James’s exaggerated gasp of betrayal.
“Oi!” James protested, clutching his now-empty hand. “I was munching on that!”
“You snooze, you lose, Potter,” You shot back, already rounding the table to Sirius. He was mid-sentence in his story when your arms looped around his shoulders, pulling him into a quick hug. He stopped talking just long enough to lean into the affection, grinning like the proud dad he was.
“Morning, Cherry Bomb,” Sirius greeted, ruffling your hair as you pulled away.
“Morning, Dad,” You hummed breezily before turning to Remus. You leaned down to give him an exaggeratedly loud kiss on the cheek, making him chuckle and shake his head.
“You’re in a good mood,” Remus observed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he folded his newspaper.
“Am I not always?” You asked, snagging another slice of toast from the plate on the table and tossing him a wink.
Laughter and banter filled the room again as the chaos resumed. The radio switched to another upbeat tune, and Lily turned back to her cooking, muttering something about “pot-stirrers” under her breath. Sirius leaned back in his chair, smirking at James’s ongoing complaints about his stolen toast, and Remus sipped his tea, watching the scene unfold with fond amusement.
“Pops, can you-” You started, pointing toward the creamer sitting just out of reach on the table. Before you could even finish your sentence, Remus flicked his wand, and the creamer floated gracefully into your hand.
“Thanks, Pops,” You sang with a grin, pouring a splash into your coffee. “You’re on top of it today.”
“I try,” Remus replied with a faint smirk, returning to his tea and paper without missing a beat.
Before you could reach for the sugar, a familiar hand slid it toward you from the corner of the table. Harry, his hair even messier than usual, had just shuffled into the kitchen, still looking half-asleep but apparently sharp enough to anticipate your needs.
“Here,” he mumbled, stifling a yawn as he pushed the sugar closer.
You gasped dramatically, holding your hand to your chest as though he’d just saved your life. “And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why you’re my favorite Potter.”
Harry blinked at you, clearly too tired to respond with his usual quick wit. “Not a high bar,” He muttered, sliding into the chair next to Remus and slumping forward.
James, who had been about to take a sip of coffee, froze mid-motion, eyes widening in mock offense. “Excuse me?! I am the original Potter- one might say the prototype- and therefore the best!”
“Don’t forget the loudest,” Sirius added with a grin, earning a glare from James.
Lily turned from the stove, wagging her spatula in your direction. “Careful, love, you’re going to give Harry a big head.”
You snorted, swirling your coffee as you leaned back against the counter. “Please, his head’s big enough already. I’m just giving credit where it’s due.”
Harry, now more awake, gave you a sideways glance, a hint of a smirk creeping onto his face. “You know, you’re really setting the bar low if all it takes is a sugar bowl to win you over.”
“Hey,” you shot back, pointing your spoon at him, “don’t underestimate the power of good timing and selflessness, Potter. You could learn a thing or two from your favorite person.”
Harry rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “If I’m your favorite, I dread to think how you treat your least favorite.”
“Easy,” You cheeked with a wicked grin, “I steal their toast.”
James groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Unbelievable! You two are ganging up on me. Is this what parenthood leads to? Betrayal at every turn?”
“Seems like it,” Sirius chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a wolfish grin. “Honestly, Prongs, they’d make a great couple- at least then someone would appreciate your genes.”
You nearly choked on your coffee, sputtering as you quickly set the mug down. “Oh, come on,” You shot at Sirius, your tone sharp but playful, though a prickle of discomfort crept into your chest.
James was grinning now, clearly enjoying himself. “You know, he’s not wrong. Potter and Black- it’s destiny, really. Perfect balance of brains and chaos.”
“Merlin’s beard, not this again,” You groaned, running a hand down your face. “The only thing Harry and I are destined for is quidditch captain, and I’m winning.”
“But think of the headlines!” Sirius pressed on, clearly relishing the way you were squirming. “‘Auror Legacy Marries rebel Black 2.0.’ It’s got a ring to it.”
“Don’t,” Lily cut in sharply, waving her spatula like a weapon. “You’re embarrassing them.”
Remus huffed quietly, setting his tea down with a frown. “Honestly, can’t the two of you give it a rest? They’re kids, not a tabloid story.”
You seized the moment, folding your arms and aiming your most cutting glare at your dads. “Thank you, Pops. Finally, someone with some sense.”
Sirius, unbothered, leaned over to nudge James. “You notice how defensive she’s getting? Means we’re onto something.”
“That’s because you’re delusional,” You snapped, though your tone had lost its bite. “For the record, Harry and I would never work. He’s a disaster, I’m a disaster, and that’s just too much disaster for one relationship.”
Harry raised an eyebrow at you, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Speak for yourself. I’d carry this disaster just fine.”
“Oh, please,” You fired back, your grin tight but still intact. “You can’t even carry your Firebolt without tripping over your own feet.”
The room erupted in laughter, and you forced a chuckle, though the weight of their teasing lingered. You’d always been good at playing along, but this time, something about it felt different. The jokes stung in a way they hadn’t before, but you weren't ignorant to why.
The laughter in the kitchen echoed around you, but it began to feel muffled, as if someone had pressed a pillow over your ears. You stared at your coffee mug, your grin faltering slightly, though you were careful to hide it. The jokes about you and Harry- something you’d always brushed off with ease- felt heavier lately, the sting burrowing deeper into your chest.
Your grip tightened around the coffee mug as the laughter in the kitchen grew distant, the sound blurring into background noise. Your mind wandered, pulling you back to a quieter moment, one you rarely let yourself dwell on.
The library was quiet save for the soft rustle of pages and the occasional whispered reprimand from Madam Pince. You’d been helping Hermione find a particularly elusive book for her research, one she was determined to get her hands on without incurring the wrath of the ever-watchful librarian.
“You’re sure it’s up there?” Hermione had whispered, standing on her tiptoes as she pointed toward the highest shelf.
“Positive,” you’d replied, smirking as you pulled your wand out and flicked it expertly. The book floated down, landing gently in her hands.
“Show-off,” she murmured, though her lips curved into a faint smile.
You’d grinned back, feeling uncharacteristically shy under her warm gaze. The moment lingered longer than it should have, her eyes searching yours as she clutched the book to her chest. There had been something there- something thrillingly unfamiliar. The space between you had felt electric, the quiet of the library amplifying every breath, every heartbeat.
You’d thought about leaning in, about what it might feel like to close the gap. But the creak of Madam Pince’s footsteps had shattered the moment, and you’d stepped back, laughing it off as Hermione tucked the book under her arm and muttered something about returning to the common room.
“Oi,” Sirius’s voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You blinked, realizing the room had gone quieter. Sirius leaned back in his chair, his expression softening as he looked at you. “You alright, trouble?”
“Yeah,” You smiled quickly, plastering on your signature grin to mask the lingering thoughts. “Just tired, I guess.”
Sirius didn’t press, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he turned back to James, who was recounting a story you’d already heard a dozen times.
“Well,” Sirius said, clapping his hands on the table as he stood. “Time to pack it up, everyone. Let’s head home before the house decides to redecorate itself again.”
Lily shot him a look, though there was a smile playing on her lips. “That house doesn’t need redecorating. It needs a miracle.”
Sirius smirked. “And I’m just the man for the job.”
You chuckled softly, slipping off your stool and stretching as the others began gathering their things.
For now, you focused on the warmth of the kitchen, the familiar sound of Sirius and James bickering, and the way Remus always managed to keep everything running smoothly. It was enough, at least for the moment.
The goodbyes at the Potters’ were as warm and chaotic as the morning had been. Hugs were exchanged, and James couldn’t resist pulling you into an exaggerated bear hug, practically lifting you off your feet.
“Take care of my heir, Cherry Bomb,” James teased, grinning ear to ear as he nodded toward Harry. “You two are a dream team, after all.”
“James,” Lily said warningly, her tone sharp but her smile betraying her amusement.
“You’re delusional,” You shot back with a scoff, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed how much the teasing was starting to wear on you. You glanced at Harry, who offered you a small, sympathetic smile before pulling you into a quick side hug of his own.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Harry mumbled under his breath. “They’re impossible.”
“Right back at you,” You replied with a crooked grin, but your heart wasn’t entirely in it.
As you stepped back, Sirius clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gave you a knowing smirk. “Don’t worry, Prongs, I’ll make sure they don’t elope without your blessing.”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” You groaned, throwing your hands up as Remus gave Sirius a pointed look and muttered something about restraint.
“Goodbye, Lily,” You said pointedly, ignoring the boys and turning to give her a warm hug. She gave you a small squeeze, whispering a quick “Be patient with them” in your ear before you stepped away.
Sirius finally ushered you toward the car, jingling the keys in his hand like a prize. “Alright, let’s hit the road before James gets any more brilliant ideas.”
Remus rolled his eyes as he slipped into the passenger seat. “Or before you make any, for that matter.”
You climbed into the backseat, slumping against the window as Sirius started the car with a triumphant flourish. He seemed to take a little too much pleasure in the sputtering growl of the engine, muttering something under his breath about “showing Walburga what she’s talking about.”
The car pulled away from the Potters’ house, and the chatter in the front seat quickly turned into playful bickering between your dads. Sirius insisted he didn’t need a map, while Remus quietly pointed out every turn they were about to miss.
But you barely registered their voices. Instead, you stared out the window, your mind wandering again. The familiar streets blurred together as you replayed the events of the morning, the teasing, the lingering stares, and the way Harry’s half-smile seemed to carry a shared understanding.
But still, you were elsewhere.
You and Ginny had been wandering aimlessly, avoiding curfews and teachers, giggling over whatever nonsense had entertained you that day.
She had shoved you playfully against the wall in a narrow corridor, her fiery red hair catching the dim light as she grinned up at you. You’d retaliated immediately, pushing her back with a mock growl, but she was quicker, spinning and pinning you to the stone wall with a strength that belied her smaller frame.
“You’ve got to stop underestimating me,” She teased, her freckled nose scrunching as she smirked. “One day, I’ll wipe that cocky grin off your face.”
“Big words for a Weasley,” You quipped, grinning. “Want to back them up?”
Ginny paused then, her smile faltering just enough for you to notice. Her hands lingered on your shoulders, her grip light but steady. Her brown eyes softened, and something thick hung in the air between you, heavy and electric.
Her voice dropped, quiet and teasing, but there was a nervous edge beneath her bravado.
“Have you ever kissed a girl before?”
The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her, the confident grin slipping from your face. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say a word, Ginny leaned in.
Her lips brushed yours, soft and tentative, the kiss lasting only a heartbeat. It was over almost as soon as it began, but the feeling lingered- a spark, warm and thrilling, like the crackle of fire catching on dry wood.
You barely had time to process it before Ginny leaned back, her cheeks flushed as she studied your face. “Well?” She asked, her tone light but her eyes searching. “How was that?”
You swallowed, your voice coming out a little breathless despite your best efforts to play it cool. “Not bad, Weasley. Not bad at all.”
Ginny’s grin returned, bright and cheeky. “Told you I’d shut you up one day.”
Before you could respond, Ron’s voice rang out from the far end of the corridor, calling for Ginny. The two of you jumped apart as if burned, your heart racing as her brother’s footsteps approached.
“Guess I'm caught.” Ginny muttered, casting you a quick glance. Her expression was a mix of amusement and something deeper- something you were familiar with. She turned on her heel, jogging down the corridor to meet Ron as if nothing had happened.
You stood frozen for a moment, your fingertips brushing your lips as you replayed the moment over and over in your mind.
“Oi, trouble,” Sirius’s voice yanked you back to the present, his tone amused but curious. “You’ve been awfully quiet back there. What’s on your mind?”
You blinked, realizing you were still in the car, the hum of the engine grounding you as the memory faded. You plastered on a grin, shaking your head as you leaned back in your seat.
“Just tired, dad,” you replied, your voice light and teasing. “Long morning.”
Sirius glanced at you in the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, but he didn’t press. “Well, don’t fall asleep back there. I’m not carrying you up the stairs again.”
Remus chuckled softly, turning in his seat to look at you with a knowing smile. “He says that, but we both know he would.”
You laughed, grateful for the distraction they didn't know they provided.
The car pulled to a stop in front of Grimmauld Place, and you were out of the backseat before Sirius could even turn off the engine. The heavy door creaked open under your hand, and the familiar musty air of the house greeted you. You were halfway up the stairs when Walburga Black’s shrill voice began to echo from her portrait in the hallway.
“Filthy half-bloods! Defilers of the noble house of Black!”
Without missing a beat, you stopped at the landing and turned to face her, smirking as her painted eyes glared daggers at you.
“Oh, shut it, you old hag,” You snapped, your voice dripping with mockery. “If this house had any standards left, your frame would be collecting dust in the attic.”
Walburga’s wails grew louder, incoherent insults tumbling from her mouth. Behind you, Sirius strode in, shaking snow from his jacket as he glanced up at the commotion.
“Oi, pup, what’s all this noise about?” He called, grinning when he spotted you leaning casually against the banister.
“Just giving dear old Gran her daily reminder that she’s irrelevant,” You shrugged, crossing your arms. “Thought she might appreciate the consistency.”
Sirius barked out a laugh, dropping his keys onto the hall table. “Ah, you’re a good kid. Keeping family tradition alive.”
He turned to Walburga’s portrait with an exaggerated bow. “Lovely as always, Mother. But if you don’t pipe down, I’ll have to introduce you to my new Muggle rock records.”
Her screeches hit a new pitch, and Sirius winked at you before turning to Remus, who was rolling his eyes and carrying the bags into the livingroom.
“Don’t encourage her,” Remus muttered, though his lips twitched with a faint smile.
Sirius waved him off, clearly pleased with himself. You snickered and started back up the stairs, shouting one last retort over your shoulder at Walburga.
“Hope you have a terrible night, you miserable cow.”
Her howls followed you all the way to your bedroom door, but you ignored them, shutting yourself inside with a satisfying click.
You flopped onto your bed with a dramatic sigh, your body sinking into the mattress. The familiar creak of the springs beneath you was oddly comforting, even as your mind wandered. Staring at the cracked ceiling, you let the faint noises of the house fade into the background: the distant hum of conversation downstairs, the occasional groan of the pipes, the muffled screeches of Walburga’s indignation.
The memories came rushing back unbidden, weaving themselves into the present.
It was well past midnight. Grimmauld Place was silent except for the occasional creak of the old house settling, its usual cacophony of voices replaced by the muffled hum of distant dreams. The kitchen was dimly lit by a single candle, its flickering flame casting dancing shadows on the aged stone walls. You and Luna had crept downstairs, stifling giggles like two schoolchildren sneaking past a strict headmaster.
Luna sat on the counter, her legs swinging idly, her pale blonde hair catching the soft glow of the candlelight. She watched you rummage through the pantry with the serene curiosity she always seemed to carry, her gaze steady and unbothered even when you nearly dropped a jar of biscuits.
Her soft laughter bubbled up, the sound light and airy, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “Careful,” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper. “We wouldn’t want to wake the ghosts.”
You turned to her, holding up the jar triumphantly. “Ghosts don’t care about biscuits, Luna,” you quipped, though your tone lacked its usual edge. Something about her presence always softened you.
Luna tilted her head, a dreamy smile playing on her lips. “Maybe not. But I imagine they’d enjoy the company.”
Her words hung in the air between you, her gaze steady and unwavering. The intimacy of the moment- the stillness of the house, the shared laughter, the closeness- felt overwhelming. You set the jar down on the counter, your movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid to shatter the fragile quiet.
“What?” You asked softly, your voice low as you stepped closer. The question wasn’t accusatory, just curious, as though you could feel the weight of her thoughts pressing against you.
Luna didn’t respond with words. Instead, she leaned down, her movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you the chance to step away. When you didn’t, her lips brushed yours, soft and tentative. The kiss started slow, hesitant, like the first notes of a melody yet to find its rhythm.
But then it deepened, a quiet fervor building as her hands found your shirt, tangling in the fabric and pulling you closer. Your hands instinctively rested on her hips, grounding yourself in the warmth of her presence. The candle flickered wildly, like its flame was threatening to extinguish under the intensity of the moment, but neither of you paid it any mind.
When you finally pulled back, the world felt different, quieter, as if the house itself was holding its breath. Luna’s gaze held yours, her cheeks flushed but her expression calm, steady.
“Was that alright?” She asked, her voice barely audible in the stillness.
You nodded, your heart pounding as you offered her a small, shy smile. “Yeah,” You murmured, your voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “It was more than alright.”
Luna’s smile widened, and for a moment, the weight of everything else fell away. In that kitchen, under the flicker of candlelight, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a moment that felt like it had been waiting for you all along.
The memory lingered like a soft melody, playing on repeat in your mind. Luna’s serene gaze, her touch, the flicker of candlelight that had seemed to mirror the spark between you- everything about it had felt right. Safe. But as you tried to focus on her eyes, your heart sank.
Like some cruel trick, the silvery blue of her irises shifted, darkening until they glowed an all-too-familiar shade of green. The serene warmth of Luna’s face dissolved, replaced by Harry’s steady, piercing gaze.
A shock ran through your body, sharp and unforgiving, jolting you out of the blissful memory like a bucket of ice water. Your chest tightened, the sudden dissonance between memory and reality leaving you breathless.
“No,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as though you could physically dislodge the image. “No, no, no.”
Your hands clenched into fists, and a frustrated growl tore from your throat. You grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it across the room with all the force you could muster. The satisfying whomp of impact was immediately followed by a loud crash as the pillow toppled your bedside lamp, sending it to the floor in a spray of shattered glass.
The sound made you wince, your frustration replaced by a pang of guilt. You sat up, running a hand through your hair as you surveyed the mess on the floor. The dim light of the room cast eerie reflections off the broken shards, and for a moment, you felt as fragmented as the lamp lying before you.
“Oi! Everything alright up there?” Remus’s voice carried up the stairs, calm yet laced with concern.
You winced, glancing down at the shattered remains of the lamp, your heart sinking. “Uh… yeah!” You called back, scrambling for an excuse. “Just… taking out some aggression on a pillow!”
There was a pause before Remus replied, his voice tinged with amusement. “And did the pillow learn its lesson?”
You hesitated, looking at the broken lamp before sighing. “Uhm… it seems my lamp learned it for him!”
A loud bark of laughter echoed from downstairs, followed closely by Sirius’s booming voice. “Don’t touch it! I’m coming up!”
Your stomach twisted as the familiar sound of Sirius’s boots on the stairs grew louder. You quickly crouched by the broken lamp, trying to sweep the shards into a neat pile with your hands, only to nick your finger on one of the sharper edges.
“Bloody hell,” You hissed, sticking the wounded finger in your mouth as Sirius’s voice reached the landing outside your door.
“Oi, trouble,” He called, knocking once before pushing the door open without waiting for an answer. He took one look at the broken lamp, the glass scattered across the floor, and your sheepish expression before crossing his arms and leaning casually against the doorframe.
“What happened?” He prodded, though his tone was more curious than accusatory.
You stood, brushing your hands on your trousers and avoiding his gaze. “The pillow was out of line, so I threw it,” You admitted, gesturing toward the offending pillow lying innocently on the floor. “Didn’t realize it had a vendetta against my lamp- unfortunately he took her down with him.”
Sirius’s lips twitched as he tried to hold back a grin. “Sounds like the lamp got the short end of the stick,” He mused, stepping further into the room to inspect the damage. “What’s really going on?”
You hesitated, unsure how much you wanted to share. Sirius had a knack for prying the truth out of you, but sometimes you weren’t ready to give it up.
“Just… had a lot on my mind,” Your voice muttered quietly. “Needed to let it out.”
Sirius tilted his head, studying you for a moment. Then, without a word, he pulled his wand from his back pocket and pointed it at the shattered lamp. “Reparo!”
The broken shards flew back together with a soft clink, reforming into the lamp as if nothing had happened. Sirius smirked, giving the now-intact lamp a light tap with his wand for good measure.
You stared at it, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Of course,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Sirius grinned, tucking his wand away. “Because you’re dramatic, Cherry Bomb. Always have to make a scene.” He leaned back against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a knowing look. “What’s the fun in fixing things when you can wallow in the chaos a little longer, eh?”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Alright, alright. You’ve had your moment. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late, just lets me know you still need me.” Sirius replied, flashing a cocky grin. Then his expression softened, his gaze flickering to you with something closer to concern. “But seriously, kid, you good?”
You hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on you. Sirius might joke around, but his ability to see through you had always been unnerving.
“I’m fine,” you finally said, though it sounded unconvincing even to your own ears. You tried to smile, hoping it would sell the lie. “Just a long day, you know?”
Sirius didn’t look convinced, but he let it go- for now. “Alright, if you say so. But if you ever need to talk… well, you know where I am.”
You nodded, feeling a flicker of gratitude for his understanding. “Thanks, Dad.”
Sirius smirked at the title, ruffling your hair as he passed by you toward the door. “Get some rest, pup. And maybe lay off the pillow abuse next time, yeah?”
“Only if it's learned its lesson.”
He gave you a playful glare. You laughed softly as he left, shutting the door behind him. The room fell silent once more, save for the faint hum of the house around you. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the repaired lamp and letting out a long, steadying breath.
"Dramatic," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. But the small smile faltered, slipping away as something cold and heavy began to settle in your chest. A creeping dread gnawed at the edges of your mind, setting your breaths into an unsteady rhythm.
Dramatic.
You could almost hear Sirius’s teasing tone, James’s bark of laughter. The word echoed, sharp and cutting in the stillness of the room.
“They’re just joking.”
“Don’t take it to heart.”
“They don’t mean it.”
You’d told yourself these things countless times before. But their voices played on a loop in your head, louder and louder, until you could hardly think of anything else.
“If you get married, we’ll finally be a big pack!”
“You two would be perfect together!”
“You’d work so well- balance each other out!”
James and Sirius’s teasing words replayed with such vivid clarity, the echo of their laughter twisting in your chest like a knife. Even Lily’s and Remus’s softer reassurances slipped in, well-meaning but hollow now, reminders that they’d never taken it as seriously as you did.
Because all jokes have a bit of truth to them, don’t they? That dark, nagging voice in the back of your mind whispered its usual poison. What if they mean every word? What if they’ve always meant it?
The years of good-natured teasing, the remarks, the suggestions- they stretched out in your memory, suddenly too heavy to ignore. And for the first time, you wondered if that was all you were to them. If you were just a puzzle piece waiting to fit into their perfect picture.
The thought made you feel small, insignificant. Like your only worth to them was tied to something you didn’t even want. It wasn’t a new fear- not really- but it had always been something you could push aside. Something you could shake off with a roll of your eyes and a forced laugh.
But not today.
Today, it was eating you alive.
The weeks that followed were quiet. Too quiet. The lively energy you usually brought to Grimmauld Place seemed to dim, like a fire struggling to stay lit. The teasing banter that once felt like second nature now felt heavy, stifling. You found yourself retreating into your room more often, your appetite waning as the days blurred together.
At first, they didn’t notice- not fully. James and Sirius chalked it up to stress, maybe a rough patch. “She’ll bounce back,” Sirius had said confidently, leaning back in his chair like it was a guarantee.
But then you started skipping meals. Not just breakfast, but dinner too. You’d pick at your plate, offering vague excuses before excusing yourself early. The chatter at the table would falter each time you slipped away, the tension thickening like storm clouds.
You avoided Harry most of all. The warm sibling bond you’d always shared felt unbearable now, every interaction laced with an invisible wall you couldn’t bring yourself to break. He’d tried to confront you once, standing awkwardly in the doorway to your room.
“Hey,” he had said, his voice uncertain but soft. “You’ve been… quiet lately. Everything alright?”
You had plastered on a smile, too tight to be convincing. “I’m fine, Harry. Just tired.”
He’d hesitated, his hand gripping the doorframe like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or leave. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything.”
The lump in your throat had felt insurmountable, and you’d turned away under the guise of searching for something on your desk. “I know. Thanks.”
He hadn’t pushed further, but you’d felt his lingering gaze before he left, the door clicking softly behind him.
Sirius, of course, noticed the cracks in your armor. He’d tried to coax you back to your usual self with his over-the-top antics, but your forced chuckles only seemed to worry him more. Remus had asked if you were feeling ill, his sharp eyes scanning your face with parental concern, but you waved him off with a quiet reassurance that everything was fine.
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting Grimmauld Place in a muted twilight. The kitchen was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the radio in the background and the occasional clatter of dishes as Lily cleaned up after dinner. You sat at the table, idly tracing patterns on the wood with your fingernail, your untouched tea growing cold in front of you.
“Alright, love,” Lily said softly, breaking the silence. She pulled out a chair and sat across from you, her eyes kind but steady. “I’m not one to pry, but something’s been eating at you for weeks, and we’re all worried.”
You froze, your fingers stilling on the table. “I’m fine,” you muttered, the words automatic, rehearsed.
Lily tilted her head, her fiery hair catching the faint light. “You’re not fine. And that’s okay. But shutting us out isn’t going to help.”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “It’s nothing. Really.”
“It’s not nothing,” Lily pressed gently. “You’ve been pulling away from everyone-especially Harry. You barely eat, you hardly talk, and you don’t even sass Walburga anymore. That’s not like you.”
The mention of Harry made your chest tighten. You clenched your jaw, your hands curling into fists on the table. “It’s nothing he did,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
Lily’s brows lifted slightly, her gaze sharpening. “Then what is it?”
You hesitated, the storm of emotions that had been building for weeks threatening to spill over. The kitchen felt too small, too stifling, and Lily’s unwavering gaze made it impossible to retreat.
“I just…” You started, your voice trembling. You shook your head, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m tired of the jokes. The teasing. All of it.”
Lily frowned, leaning forward slightly. “What jokes?”
“The ones about me and Harry,” you snapped, your voice louder than you intended. “About how we’re perfect for each other. About how it’s destiny. It’s like that’s all anyone sees when they look at us.”
Lily’s expression softened, but she didn’t interrupt. She waited, giving you the space to continue.
“I’m not…” You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat. “I’m not in love with him. I never have been. And I never will be.”
Your voice broke on the last word, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders trembling. Lily reached under the table, her hand resting gently on your knee. “It’s alright, love,” she said softly. “Keep going.”
“I hate it,” you admitted, your voice muffled. “I hate how they act like it’s inevitable. Like my only purpose is to… to marry Harry and make everyone happy.”
Lily’s hand squeezed your knee, her touch grounding you. “No one expects that from you,” she said gently. “Not really.”
“They do,” you insisted, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t care. “Even if they don’t say it outright, they mean it. And I’m just supposed to go along with it because it’s what they want.”
“Do you want to date Harry?” Lily asked, her voice careful, measured.
You shook your head vehemently, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “No. I don’t. I’ve never wanted that. I don’t… I’m not even attracted to men.”
The confession hung heavy in the air, the weight of it both terrifying and freeing. Lily’s eyes widened briefly, but she quickly masked her surprise with a soft, understanding smile.
“That’s what’s been eating at you,” she said quietly, more to herself than to you. “You’ve been carrying this alone.”
You nodded, your throat tight. “I just… I didn’t know how to say it. And I didn’t think anyone would take me seriously.”
“I take you seriously,” Lily said firmly, her hand never leaving yours. “And I’m so proud of you for telling me.”
Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door creaked open, and you looked up to see James, Sirius, and Remus standing there, their expressions a mixture of concern and uncertainty.
Lily turned her head toward them, her gaze sharp. “Don’t you dare say a word.”
“We weren’t eavesdropping,” James said quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “We just… heard voices.”
You flushed, your chest tightening as their presence threatened to overwhelm you. But Lily’s hand squeezed your knee again, her steady presence grounding you.
“It’s alright,” She murmured, her voice low. “If you’re ready.”
You hesitated, your gaze flickering between the three men. James looked as though he was holding his breath, Sirius’s expression was unreadable, and Remus’s eyes were filled with quiet understanding.
Finally, you exhaled, your shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m not in love with Harry,” you said, your voice steadier now. “And I’m not interested in men. At all. And I- hate that you guys assume. Assume I-” Your voice cracked and there was a long moment of silence.
Sirius moved first, his usual bravado stripped away as he slowly approached you. His grey eyes were soft, filled with something that looked painfully close to regret. He crouched down beside your chair, resting one hand on the table and the other gently on your arm.
"Kid," he started, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to... I didn’t realize we were pushing you like this."
You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Sirius squeezed your arm lightly, his expression heartbreakingly tender.
"You’re my little girl," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel like you’re anything less than exactly who you’re supposed to be. And if we made you feel that way... I’ll never forgive myself."
That did it. The tears you’d been holding back slipped free, and you let out a shaky breath. Sirius reached up to gently wipe one away, his touch careful and loving. "You don’t owe anyone an explanation. You don’t have to be what anyone expects, not even us."
Behind him, Remus was watching with a guarded expression, his gaze flickering between you and James. The latter stood frozen in the doorway, his face pale and his hands trembling at his sides. He looked like he’d been punched in the gut.
"I..." James started, his voice cracking slightly. He swallowed hard, his hazel eyes glistening as he took a shaky step forward. "I didn’t know. I didn’t- Merlin, I’m so sorry."
You looked up at him, your tears blurring his figure. His voice broke again as he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I thought we were just joking around, just... having a laugh. I didn’t realize we were hurting you. I would never-" He cut himself off, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "I never wanted you hurting."
Sirius’s hand remained steady on your arm as he glanced back at James, his expression unreadable. But the slight twitch of his jaw and the flicker of his gaze told you he was holding back words of his own.
Remus finally stepped in, his calm, measured tone breaking the tension. "It’s not about what any of us wanted," he said softly, addressing James but keeping his focus on you. "It’s about what she needed- and didn’t get- from the people who were supposed to protect her."
James visibly flinched, his shoulders slumping as he looked at you again. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "For every stupid joke, for every time I didn’t think- just, all of it. I’m so, so sorry."
For the first time in weeks, you felt the weight in your chest lighten, just a little. You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to be seen for who I am. Not... not who you all want me to be."
James nodded, his eyes glassy but determined. "You’re right. And from now on, we’ll do better. I’ll do better."
Sirius tightened his grip on your arm briefly before letting go, his hand coming up to cup your face. "We’ll figure this out, pup. You’ve got us. Always."
"And for what it’s worth," Remus added, his soft smile offering a flicker of comfort, "we’re proud of you. For being honest, even when it’s hard."
Before silence could over take the room; Harry entered the kitchen with his usual messy hair and an expression of mild concern, but the moment he saw your tear-streaked face, his demeanor changed entirely. His eyes darted between you, Sirius, and James, his body tensing like he was ready to jump to your defense.
“What’s going on?” He asked, his voice sharp with alarm. He pointed an accusatory finger at James. “Dad, what did you say? Did you-”
“Harry,” You interrupted quickly, your voice wavering but firm. You stood from your chair and took a step toward him, guilt tugging at your chest. “It’s not him. It’s not anyone’s fault. I just… I should’ve talked to you sooner.”
Harry blinked, his brow furrowing as he looked down at you. “Talked to me about what? Are you okay?”
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I’ve been ignoring you, and that wasn’t fair. I’m sorry, Harry.”
He shook his head, his concern not easing. “Don’t worry about that. I just want to know what’s wrong.”
The words caught in your throat for a moment, but then you found the courage to say them. “I like girls.”
Harry stared at you for a second, his expression unreadable. “Yeah,” he said slowly, his tone filled with cautious confusion, “Me too.”
For a brief, horrifying moment, you thought you’d miscalculated everything. But then he raised an eyebrow, smirking as he added, “You kinda snogged my girlfriend, though.”
You blinked, startled by the unexpected quip. Then the absurdity of it hit you, and a laugh bubbled out of your chest, light and free. Harry grinned at your reaction, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you like a protective barrier, and for the first time in weeks, you had your best friend back.
“I was so worried,” He mumbled into your shoulder, his voice softer now. “You’ve been so distant, and I didn’t know what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything,” You assured him, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s just been… a lot. But I’m okay now. Or I will be.”
Harry pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes searching yours. “You could’ve told me, I’m always on your side, you know that, right?”
You nodded, tears pricking your eyes again, but this time they were accompanied by a warm smile. “I know. Thanks, Harry.”
He ruffled your hair affectionately, his grin mischievous now. “And, for the record, you owe me for Ginny. That was cheeky.”
“I’ll buy her flowers,” Your smirked with a chuckle, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.
“I said you owe me. Stop trying to take her from me.” He chuckled, shoving you softly.
The room, once so heavy with tension, now felt warm again. Sirius, James, and Remus watched from the sidelines, their expressions a mixture of relief and quiet pride. Harry kept his arm around your shoulders as he turned to his dad and the others.
“Well,” he said brightly, “looks like we’re all good here. Is the kitchen open again? I feel like I'm owed desert- you made my cousin cry.”
The group erupted into laughter, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could laugh with them- truly laugh, without the weight of expectation holding you down.
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#sirius black#james potter#remus lupin#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#Remus Lupin x daughter!reader#Sirius Black x Daughter!reader#wolfstar#wolfstar!daughter#lily evans#hermione granger x reader#ginny weasley x reader#luna lovegood x reader#lily evans x james potter#sirius black x remus lupin
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Faking It - Max Verstappen
Words: 850 Summary: Max finds out his girlfriend faked an orgasm. Note(s): NSFW, Talks of Sex, Mention of Semi-Public Sex. Part of a kind series where drivers find out reader faked an orgasm.
Max pauses just before the entryway to the living room. “Have you ever y’know?” His brows furrow at the vague question from his girlfriend’s best friend.
“Have I ever what?”
“Faked it. Have you ever faked an orgasm?”
She scoffs, “Before Max, yes.”
His cheeks turn a bit pink at the conversation he was overhearing, but he also stands a bit taller.
He knew that their sex life was good, that she was getting orgasms, they had of course talked about it, but it was different hearing her talk to someone else about it with no idea he was there.
His brows furrowed in confusion when she speaks again, “well, I don’t really know if it counts as faking it.”
“What?”
“I mean, there’s been a few times when we’ve had sex where I didn’t orgasm.”
His mind starts screaming at him, because what? He always made sure she came, usually before he did.
“Not because it wasn’t good or because I didn’t want to. I just couldn’t.” He can practically see the shrug she gives. “The sex was still good though.”
“Y/N!” Her friend screeches and it breaks up a little through the phone.
The words replay in his head as he goes back to their bedroom, lying down on the bed. He tries to think of when she would have faked it but nothing comes to mind. He’s so wrapped up in his head he doesn’t hear her call his name or get onto the bed until she’s laying down on top of him, his arms instinctively wrapping themselves around her.
“What you thinking about?” She asks, pressing kisses to his jaw.
It normally relaxes the feeling of her lips pressed against his skin but not quite where he wants them, a lovely prelude to before she kisses him, but he can’t get past what he heard and he’s never been practically shy.
“When did you fake it? Having an orgasm with me?”
Her fingers pause where they had begun to lift his shirt to slide under. “Max, it’s not a big deal.”
His frown deepens and he’s pushing her upwards so they can look at each other. “Yes, it is. I always thought that I made you orgasm, usually first. And now I’ve found that isn’t true.”
She shakes her head. “You do! I promise you do.”
He doesn’t say anything and she sighs.
“It’s only happened twice.”
He doesn’t know if he’s relieved that it only happened twice or pissed that he failed twice. It should have never happened but twice was far too much.
“The first time was after the FIA gala last year.”
His eyebrows furrow, “But you talk about that night a lot.”
“It was a good night. I felt good, amazing. I loved everything we did, I just wasn’t able to orgasm. I didn’t feel unsatisfied or anything. Especially not with my wake-up call.”
He smirks at the reminder of the next morning. He had woken up just as the sun was rising and had ducked under the covers and ate her out until she was begging for him to stop. His jaw and tongue had ached for hours after, but it was worth it for the taste of her stayed just as long.
“The second time was in China. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what if someone walked in.”
“So, I didn’t fuck you good enough.”
She slaps his chest lightly, sending him a disbelieving look. “I was limping a little after. And you're lucky I was wearing those heels and everyone believed me when I said I twisted my ankle.”
“I’m sorry.” Max apologizes again, picking up her hand and kissing it. He still felt a little bad that their first foray into semi-public sex had been so rough. “Why didn’t you tell me though? That I didn’t make you come?”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.” She tells him. “I love having sex with you, it always feels good regardless of me orgasming or not. And in those two instances I was just happy to be that close to you.”
He stares at her, looking deep into her eyes. He still feels like he’s failed but the way she’s looking at him, all gentle wide eyes filled with truth. “I’ll let it go.”
She snorts and he covers her mouth with his hand.
“But only if you tell me next time. Just so I can immediately make it up to you.” He says, removing his hand as he says the last word.
“Okay, I’ll tell you next time.”
“Thank you.” He murmurs, pressing their lips together.
She hums into the kiss, her one hand slipping out of his and returning to the hem of shirt, drawing it up so she can slip her hands underneath and his stomach flexes at the feeling of her fingertips and he’s rolling them over. Easily putting himself in between her legs.
“Feel like making a mess for me?”
She lets out a happy little sigh, teeth lightly sinking into her bottom lip as she nods. “Please?”
“Of course.”
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#sins fics#faking it
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Random idea that came to me as a response to this prompt
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He gently reached out, taking her scarred hand in his. "Ameria," he said softly, "I have followed you for how long now? Did you really think it was only because of how you looked?"
His voice was steady, filled with quiet reverence. She was the goddess of warfare, but not the kind that gloried in destruction. Hers was the kind of war waged to protect—to shield the sacred, to defend the vulnerable. The war fought when someone breaks into the sanctuary of those you love or in the defense of others.
"You are a kind and caring goddess, even with the weight of your domains," he continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "I have seen you heal the wounded, comfort the grieving, and nurture hope even in the darkest moments. Do you really think these scars, this armor, or how you look now could change any of that?"
As he spoke, he gently helped her remove the weapons strapped to her body, the armor that weighed heavy on her shoulders. Piece by piece, the trappings of war fell away, revealing the goddess beneath. She stood before him, no longer adorned for battle, but in her simple, familiar dress—the way she had always been in his memories.
"See?" he said, his hands steady as they lingered briefly on hers. "Even though you bear the marks of that war, you're still you. Yes, you're scarred and changed—who wouldn't be after what you've endured? But none of that changes the heart of who you are."
He offered her a small, reassuring smile. "Ameria, I will follow you always. Not because of your appearance or your power, but because of the kindness and strength that make you who you are."
"So, my goddess," he said softly, his voice steady yet warm, "please, raise your head again." He gently traced the scars that marked her hands, his touch light and reverent. "These scars… they tell the story of what you endured, the battles you faced, and the journey that would have broken so many others. Yet you came out the other side."
He paused, his gaze meeting hers with unwavering devotion. "Not everyone—divine or otherwise—can say that. These marks are not flaws, Ameria. They’re a testament to your strength, your resolve, and the heart that carried you through it all."
His fingers lingered briefly, the reverence in his touch unshaken. "So please, never think that these scars—or the war you fought—would ever make me turn away from you. You are still the goddess I chose to follow, the one I swore my loyalty to, not for your appearance, but for your spirit."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. "You fought for those who could not fight for themselves. You bore the weight of a war no mortal could understand. And still, here you are. That is why I follow you—because of who you are, scars and all. So please, Ameria, stand tall once more." He said softly
You are the last disciple of a benevolent goddess. Years later she returns from a divine war that raged beyond the realm of men. Covered in weapons and spines, she reaches out with a hand marred by scars. "Will you still follow me?"
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Favourited Fantasies | Nico Hischier & Timo Meier
summary: when your boyfriend learns about your sexual fantasies, it's only right that he helps you explore it right?
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, threesome, oral (f & m recieving!), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), self masturbation? swearing.
word count: 6.58k
authors note: this is the first time I’ve written these two in a threesome pairing and it feels so good to be back into them and to return to the threesomes with something new! I also don’t think we’ve ever done a threesome when there has been an established relationship within it too. let’s all take a moment to acknowledge that if we didn’t have @sweethischier involved in this it would have come out in like months from now (you think I’m lying, I am not) because I had zero clue what to do with the concept of two Swiss kings!
He was your perfect little secret.
Nico had been the man you called your boyfriend for the last four months now and you swore that everyday made him just a little more perfect. The only problem? Both your younger brothers were his teammates. And Jack especially, would have killed you both if he found out that lover boy on your phone was in fact his captain.
Even as Jack warned all the players that you were off limits before they met you, those all seemed to leave Nico’s ears the moment he met you.
The sounds of cheers echoed throughout the prudential as the boys beat the Rangers “this is who I was telling you guys about.” Jack explained pulling your arm in their direction so that you could meet his friends “hi.” Your voice was quiet as you sent them a wave.
Nico and Timo both looked at you, almost surprised that you looked that good. They knew it was weird but you immediately a sight for sore eyes as they forgot that it was your brother who stood between you and them “hey.” It was Nico who responded first and you felt like such a love-sick puppy afterwards.
But luckily for you, that night, Nico got your Instagram handle from Jack and it seemed the two of you hadn’t looked back since.
What Jack didn’t know was how all those nights you spent cancelling or trying to reschedule dinner with your brothers, you had actually been sipping a glass of wine as you spoke to his captain. Nico loved making you dinner as he not only got to spend time with you but he also got to finally not be eating his dinner alone.
Nico smiled as you let out a laugh as the captain recounted the story of how he had walked in on Jack and his girlfriend on the couch “oh god don’t tell me you’re going to say what I think you will!” Your hand covered your mouth while your eyes went wide “it was even worse.” A groan left your lips as Nico nodded, knowing that it was an event that would forever be engrained in his brain, unfortunately.
You ran your fingers through your hair as you looked at your watch “it’s getting late neeks.” You sighed, sipping the last bit of your wine “I told you next time I am cooking for you.” It was a promise you had given him last week when he cooked for you.
It made him shake his head “like getting to cook for you.” His confession made your cheeks warm as he grabbed the plates from the table “then you should let me do the dishes.” You tried to stop him as he shook his head.
He motioned to the bottle of wine that sat on the table “then why don’t you bring that with and we can make it a team effort.” You decided to accept his proposal “and whilst you’re at it why don’t you take the guest room here?” He added walking into the kitchen.
The last thing that Nico wanted was for you end up in the back of an uber late at night and all alone “its not necessary.” Your words made Nico turn and give you the same stern look Ellen used to send you when she wanted you to accept what you were saying “I don’t want to inconvenience you.” The confession made his heartbreak as he placed the plates by the sink.
His fingers pushed through his hair “I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t ready to give it to you.” He held his hand out for you to grab “and besides I like having you around.” The words made you smile as he hugged you.
The warmth of his body made you melt in his touch “how much is that?” You teased looking up at him as he laugh “like so much.” More than you could have ever realised in that moment.
Nico opted to finally tell you the truth, though. He was so beyond smitten with you that every time he saw you in the crowd, Nico liked to wish that you were there for him. Sometimes he did want to scream from the rooftops, but he knew that he would have been screwed if you didn’t feel the same way because he’d lose you and Jack for not listening about staying away.
It was a rainy day in New Jersey as you stared out of the living room when there was a knock at the door “Nico?” You asked as you saw him burst through the door “are the boys here?” His question caught you off guard as you shook your head.
You took a moment to acknowledge how the rain soaked his hair and shirt “we should get you out of these.” Your voice was soft as you got up with your arms crossed “i-i need to get something off of my chest first.” Nico raised his hand up to stop you.
Nico was clearly nervous, which made you listen opting to halt your walk where you were “you can tell me anything Neeks.” You dropped your arms hoping he’d talk “I am in love.” The words made your heartbreak. You had been calling your mom to tell her all about how Nico made you feel, so to learn that he wanted someone else was the absolute punch in the gut that made you feel as if the air was forced out of you.
He pursed his lips together “and it makes me feel so sick because I can’t think about anything else but it.” His eyes scanned your face as he hoped that he could get something out of you that gave him the green light “what am I meant to do about this?” You didn’t mean to sound bad but you were genuinely confused about how it made him so anxious.
At that moment he shut his eyes and let out a deep breath that he didn’t even know he was holding “I am in love with you.” The words made you feel light “and I know you might not feel the same way so for that I am so sorry.” Nico rambled on as you walked closer to him.
You grabbed his hands “but I can’t even sleep some nights knowing that you aren’t mine.” His words made you smile “Neeks.” Your voice was soft “so I guess that I needed to just tell you this.” His lips began to tremble “Nico.” You repeated your words, trying to be a little louder this time.
But that did nothing “you just make me feel so-“”Nico!” You yelled cutting him off as he finally shut up.
He looked at you now realising that you were that close to him “I love you, you idiot.” You laughed as you shook your head “really?” He asked thinking this was some joked as you pushed yourself onto your tippy toes to kiss him “really.”
This was a secret that you had both grown to love, you occasionally do feel the strands of jealousy when girls flirt with Nico, but he was good at making sure the moment you were behind closed doors you knew he was yours. But what Nico didn’t expect was that he’d ever have to feel that level of jealousy, from a teammate no less.
It was the day of the family skate and as everyone’s kids were on the ice, Nico couldn’t help but stare at you as you talked with the young girls “can’t believe that she is Jack’s sister.” Timo sighed as he skated up to Nico, keeping his voice quiet “I mean she is like really pretty and nice and single.” He added on making Nico begin to process what had just been said. Nico finally coughed as he panicked, thinking that Timo knew about them “well we could never go for her.” Nico coughed rubbing the back of his neck as Timo nodded “trust me I know.” Timo sighed letting his eyes remain on you.
Nico had forgotten about that conversation, or at least he really did until he started to wonder what it would be like to share you with someone. If Nico was nervous about asking you out then he was absolutely shitting it at the thought of you saying no, and possibly even breaking up with him over it.
You had been struggling to fall asleep as burning thoughts caused chaos in your mind “what is your biggest sexual fantasy?” The question escaped from your lips as Nico turned around to see you staring at the ceiling “why?” He asked as he cocked his head propping himself up on his pillow.
You turned to look at him “was just thinking about it?” Your confession made your cheeks feel warm “maybe sex at the Prudential?” He trailed off not entirely sure which one he would pick “you?”
It was only fair that you told him yours as well as he had now been honest with you “a threesome.” The words brushed past your lips as Nico ran his fingers over your cheek “am I now not enough?” He teased making you almost jump out of your bed.
“Nonono.” You shook your head as he laughed making you realise that he was kidding “I just think it could be really hot being like shared y’know?” You asked as he nodded. Nico kissed your cheek as he pulled you closer to you “you want to tell me what else you’d want?” He asked rubbing a circle with his thumb against your thigh.
Things had remained calm for months, you and Nico were getting ready to start thinking about letting the people around you know about what had been going on between the two of you. Nico watched as Timo got more comfortable around you and Nico was curious if you even knew about what the boy had been doing. The captain swore that his teammate had caught you both but if he had then surely someone else would have right?
You were doing your skincare when Nico walked out of the bathroom “schatz can I ask you something?” He asked, crouching down to be at your level “of course baby.” You nodded, shutting out your jewellery box as you took your watch off.
Nico pressed a kiss on your forehead “remember when you said you wanted a threesome?” His words made you confused as you sceptically nodded along “if I made you mad then really forget about it because-” Nico cut you off as he pecked your lips.
It made you wait wanting to hear what it was that he would say to you “I wanted to know if you had anyone in mind for it.” The words lingered in your mind as you sucked at your teeth, you shook your head as your thighs clenched “promise you won’t be mad?” You asked as you watched him pull you up so that he could hold your hands.
Nico smiled almost amused by your concern “wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t want to know liebling.” His words were like a comforting blanket that wrapped around you “it’s Timo.” You announced it as if you were ashamed letting your head look to the ground.
A laugh echoed from Nico’s lips as he wanted to tell you all about how Timo thought you were cute “you like him?” The captain teased as you shook your head “I just think that he would fit into us pretty well.” It made Nico nod as he began to think about it.
Maybe it was the fact that Nico certainly got off on roadies at the thought of you being his, but there was something about getting to watch someone else pleasure you that made him squirm “besides he already takes orders from you.” Your words made his cock strain against his shorts.
There was an amused smirk on your face as you heard him grunt “you like giving orders?” You teased him as you ran your fingers over his cheek “want to see just how much I do?” Nico didn’t wait to pick you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.
Your laughter could be heard from the room as you were sure you’d be up until the early hours of the morning, and boy were you right.
It had been weeks since that night had gone down and you seemed to honestly forget about the conversation. Nico had been on a long roadie and had spent most afternoons praising you.
Which was why when he came home randomly you really weren’t all too surprised “you’re such a pretty girl.” Nico cooed as he kissed up the inside of your thigh “fuck.” You gasped bringing your hands up to cup your breasts as his eyes stared into yours.
His hand ran along your thigh “missed this cunt when I was away.” His fingers dropped down to your cunt, letting his thumb circle your clit “please neeks.” You begged, driving your heels into his back.
Nico smirked softly kissing down your thigh as he stopped just above your cunt “please what?” He taunted you, clicking his tongue when you stayed quiet “just want you to fuck me.” You whined clenching your cunt around nothing.
It was as if you were accepting some level of defeat when he pressed his thumb harder into your cunt “if you want to be my good girl then you should be asking me nicely.” His lips formed a pout as he rested his head against your thigh.
Your lips formed a pout “please just make me feel good.” You pleaded stretching your legs out “I just wanna cum!” You drove your hips further into his hand as he instead pulled his hands away.
Nico scoffed as you let out a whine “relax baby I just want to comfortable.” He explained, readjusting himself as he wrapped his arms around your legs.
Your eyes didn’t leave his as you watched him build up saliva in his mouth that he then used to help wet your cunt. You whimpered watching it leave his mouth as it oozed onto your cunt “such a pretty girl.” Nico pressed a soft kiss against your clit, making you feel like the air was sucked out of the room in the process.
Hands were quick to grip at his hair as he licked a stripe up your slit “such a sweet cunt too.” Nico moaned, letting his voice send shivers through your body “just like that.” Your thighs tried to push against his head as he sucked at your clit.
When Nico asked Timo to come over earlier that morning during practice, Timo really wasn’t surprised. Not because he had a feeling you were going to be on your bed, being treated like his captain’s last meal. But rather because it was Wednesday, and Wednesday at home was for them to hang out.
The older boy reread the message telling him that he could just come inside when he arrived. His first red flag should have been the lack of anyone in the living room and the kitchen. But still Timo continued to look for Nico which when he finally heard the sounds of moans from Nico’s room it was all too late.
With the door half open he saw everything. And there you lay naked and getting your cunt eaten out by his captain. Timo should have felt guilty for watching but it almost felt like his very own private show.
And who was he to deny how sweet the sounds were as they escaped from your lips? But what he forgot was that if you aren’t quiwt you will get yourself caught.
Your moan had changed tones as Nico thrusted another finger into your cunt “Neeks.” You gasped, letting your eyes lock on Timo’s “yeah baby?” Nico asked finally looking in the direction that your eyes were.
When he saw Timo it seemed like the older boy finally processed what was going on “shit I am-“ Timo went to apologise but he was cut off when Nico raised his free hand, motioning to his teammate to stop talking.
Nico looked back at you “Timo had been telling me that you were pretty.” Nico’s words made you bite your lip as you clenched around his fingers at the thought “so why don’t you tell him Schatz about what you think?” He urged you to talk as he let his tongue swirl around your clit.
You almost jumped at the stimulation “wanted to be shared.” Your cheeks were red as your hands gripped at the sheets beneath you “with?” You could barely hear Nico’s words as he didn’t bother to lift his mouth to speak.
Timo swore he was so close to feeling his jeans burst at the zip as his cock grew hard “you Timo.” Your eyes screwed shut, swearing you were close as Nico replaced his tongue with his thumb so that he could join the conversation “why don’t you come in here so you can see her properly?” Nico motioned to Timo to finally walk into the room.
But as the boy stood there Nico knew he needed to give Timo some encouragement to move “starting to look like he doesn’t want you doll.” Nico’s words made your lips form a pout.
Timo was quick to shake his head “I do want you!” His voice was loud as he placed his hand on the door pushing it open to let himself in. It was the first time you properly saw the way his cock was strained against his jeans “fuck.” Your head fell onto your pillow as you felt your legs begin to shake “you see how close she is?” Nico asked as he softly nibbled at the skin on your thigh.
You were a sight for sore eyes as Timo nodded “why don’t you come sit on this side of her?” Nico motioned to the other side of your bed “she loves cumming as she gets her tits teased.” The vulgerness of Nico’s words made you whine as your eyes never left Timo’s when he walked around.
His eyes seemed to silently ask for permission to join you on the bed, to which you nodded “think you should give him a kiss pretty girl.” Nico cooed almost egging you on as he finally went back to sucking on your neglected clit.
Timo watched you bite your lip as you used all of your strength to prop yourself up “hi.” His voice was soft as you let your lips clash with his. You moaned as his hand travelled down to your boobs, letting your nipple roll between his fingers as he turned it into a hard pebble.
Nico watched on as he let his tongue fuck your cunt, occasionally coming back up to your clit. He was almost surprised that he didn’t feel jealous, in fact, Timo actually thought that the whole scenario was pretty hot. Occasionally he would grind his hips into the bed as he watched Timo start leaving a trail of sloppy kisses against your jaw “close-so close.” It was encouragement for Nico to increase his pace as Timo let his hand move to the other boob that had yet to be touched.
The room felt hot as you collapsed onto the bed “I fuck please.” You begged as Nico let his lips pull away from your clit with a pop “you think that she has been good enough to cum?” He asked his teammate who turned to look at your face which was full of desperation.
Timo nodded as he pecked your lips “looks like shes gonna beg soon.” There was a softness to him as he began to kiss you again. Nico nodded going back down to suck and kiss at your clit knowing that it would be what would push you over the edge.
Sure Nico had played with your tits once or twice when he ate you out, but having that combined with another guy kissing you, you thought you were in a state of pure bliss. Timo’s mouth swallowed your moans as he continued to tease your nipples. Your legs shook against the sides of Nicos head as he didn’t stop his movements and actions until you had coated his tongue with your release “please.” You whimpered pulling away from Timo as Nico let his lips move from your cunt.
He smirked at the sight in front of him “don’t tell me you’re already fucked out schatz.” Nico got up as he watched your chest heave “need a second.” You pleaded making him laugh.
You blew a raspberry into the air as you send him a nod, signalling to your boyfriend that you were ready “you seen how Timo feels about you?” The captain cooed as his eyes locked on the tent that had formed in his teammates jeans “you can’t blame me for this when she looks like this.” Timo’s words made you smile.
Your thighs pushed together as you squirmed hearing his words “so why don’t you show him how happy you are now that he’s here?” Nico asked as he leaned forward to kiss you “show him how good you are with that mouth of yours.” He added as you let out a moan.
You had noticed how they looked at each other “how come I’m the only one naked?” You whined as your lips formed a pout “take his top off if you want that to change.” Nico ordered, making you nod.
Timo watched as you crawled towards him “you wanna let me take your shirt off?” You asked as he nodded “of course.” He smiled as your fingers brushed along his torso.
Nico watched on as you pulled the piece of fabric off “gonna let her suck your cock?” The words made Timo groan “you ever thought about me doing that?” You teased allowing your mouth to water as you stared at his chiseled chest.
Timo felt his body shake as your nails scratched his torso “so often.” Timo whimpered when you unbuttoned his jeans “you use your hand thinking it’s my cunt?” Your lips sucked at his ear lobe as he moaned.
The older boy felt your hand tug his cock out of his boxers “you can tell me pretty boy.” You cooed, kissing his cheek as your thumb ran over the head of his cock. Using the precum from the tip as a soft form of lube “think about your mouth a lot too.” The confession made Nico smirk as he ran his fingers over your thigh.
He almost felt neglected until he watched you send him a smile “you like my mouth too, no?”you asked as you moved to kiss Nico.
Timo watched on as your hand continued to rub at his cock, going up and down. The sight made him feel dirty, here he was watching his captain kiss his girlfriend whose hand was wrapped around Timo’s cock “think you should show him just how perfect it is.” Nico ran his thumb over your lower lip as you nodded.
You looked back to Timo who had his eyes half lidded when he stared at you “let’s get you out of these.” You let your hand leave his cock which made him whimper at the loss of contact.
Timo was quick to lift his hips as you tugged at his jeans, pulling them down to get them off “now you look so good.” You cooed crawling between his legs as you leaned down to kitten lick his cock.
The gesture made you smirk as his hands gripped at your hair “schatz don’t go trying to tease him.” Nico would have been the first to admit that he enjoyed watching you be in control for those few minutes, but now he wanted to remind you who was really in charge “sorry neeks.” Your lips formed a pout as you turned your head around to see him getting undressed now too.
Nico shook his head “now go treat your guest well and maybe there might be something in it for you too.” The offer was enough for you to finally play nice.
Timo swore he was dreaming as he watched your lips swallow his cock as your lips wrapped around it “holy shit.” He grunted, feeling a pure sense of ecstasy.
You hollowed out your cheeks as you let him help guide you to take more of him “she’s a fucking whore ain’t she?” Nico asked as his hands gripped at your hips “she’s so good at it.” Timo whined as your hand cupped his balls.
The captain nodded as he directed his cock over your slit as he watched your cunt ooze its slickness out, he was lucky that he didn’t just go back to eating you out. The sight was out and open for him to get how he wanted it “fuck.” Your words sent shockwaves through Timo’s body as he tightened his grip on your hair.
Nico felt his head drop back as he moaned, slowly watching his cock get swallowed by your cunt “baby keep on just getting him off so you can cum too.” Nico offered making your cunt clench around him “please just let me.” Timo nodded as he felt your throat constrict around his cock as you tilted your jaw to take more of him.
You took his cock out of your mouth “you look so pretty like this.” You moaned going to suck at his balls as your hand rubbed his cock, your pace matching Nico’s thrusts.
The sound of skin slapping echoed off of the walls of the room “fuck baby, is this what you wanted?” Nico asked as you nodded, letting out a whimper when your lip was caught between your lips. The captain raised his hand to slap your ass “we give you exactly what you wanted, and now you want to just keep yourself all quiet?” Nico scoffed as he shook his head “show Timo all those pretty noises that you know how to make.” Nico glared at Timo with a sense of jealousy that washed over him. It wasn’t Nico who changed his mind, but he did want Timo to remember that you were off of the market. That you getting to fuck Timo tonight was not going to be an everyday occurrence.
You moaned, bringing the boys attention back to you “so hot.” You moaned, letting his balls drop from your mouth with a pop “love it.” You nodded going back to suck at his cock.
Nico began to speed up the pace of his thrusts, craving that release, “I’m close.” Timo confessed as his cock throbbed. Your mouth sucked at his cock like a straw “fuck I think she is close too.” Nico let his thumb circle your clit once more knowing that it would push you over the edge.
The older teammate grunted as he watched your eyes look up at him through your thick lashes “c’mon pretty girl.” Timo pleaded as he nodded, watching you hollow your cheeks as you massaged his balls to get him over the edge “just f’me.” He nodded thrusting his hips into your face when his eyes screwed shut.
Timo felt his chest heave as he came, letting his release spray sticky ropes down your throat “fuck please don’t stop.” He didn’t want to let this end as you finally turned your head to look back up at him as his cock fell out of your mouth “tastes so good.” You moaned, feeling his thumb slot into your mouth.
If he thought he was done, he was already hard again. The cum that had dribbled out of your mouth was now saved by his thumb and brought back into your lips “still such a little whore.” Timo teased as he brought his hand down to cup your breast “fuck baby.” Nico moaned as your cunt throbbed around him, sending thoughts to his mind about wanting to put a baby into your belly as you took every last drop that he possibly had to offer.
A cry left your lips as you moaned, feeling your legs begin to shake “please.” Tears formed in your eyes as Timo looked to Nico who nodded “go on sweet girl.” Nico gripped your one hip as he quickened his thumbs pace on your clit.
Your head felt heavy as your body shook. Your eyes screwed shut as your cunt clamped down around Nico’s cock as you came. Timo pulled his thumb from your mouth so that he could hear all the little noises that escaped from your lips “feel so-” you cut yourself off with a moan as Nico continued to thrust into you, once and then a second time too.
His release came shortly after your own “fucking hell doll.” Nico huffed as he pulled his cock out of you, watching both of your releases mixed together as it oozed out of you “can’t be having this.” The captain clicked his tongue as he scooped the release with his two fingers before he forced it back into your cunt.
The movement made your body collapse into Timo’s body, he watched you rest your head on his chest “schatz you think you have room to handle one more?” Nico asked as he got up.
You watched him move the single seater that sat by your side of the bed “you had enough?” You furrowed your brows, growing alarmed that he had changed his mind.
The boy smiled turning around to lean down and kiss your lips “I am perfectly fine.” He swore hoping you knew he was serious “I just want to watch him with you.” Those words had your squirm, forcing your thighs together as you nodded.
Nico caught the gesture as he smirked “seems like you want that to happen as well.” A wave of mischief flashed across his eyes as he made the mental note of that being something that seemed to turn you on.
The captain knew that you loved him and that nothing would change between the two of you “have fun liebling.” He mumbled pressing another kiss on your lips before he sat down on the chair.
His legs spread as he palmed at his cock “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Timo’s voice almost reminded you that he was there “I want to.” You frowned turning to see his face full of uncertainty.
You slowly crawled back to Timo so that you could kiss him “you gonna let me?” You asked making him nod as you kissed him.
Nico watched on as your hand grazed his teammates jaw. Timo’s hands gripped at your hips “fuck.” Nico grunted, wrapping his hand around his cock as he gripped at his member rubbing his hand up and down.
Timo pulled away from you “gonna let me fuck you?” He asked, flipping you both over when you nodded. Sure he was tired but he could see there was no way that you’d be able to fuck him properly “please Timo.” You nodded, gripped at his hair when he kissed down your neck.
He knew you’d be ready to fuck, but still, he wanted to get a chance to worship you in between “such a pretty girl.” Timo cooed, kissing at your collarbone. The older boy sucked at your skin so that he could mark you.
He leaned forward as he stopped, opting to look at you instead “you ready?” Timo asked rubbing the head of his cock over your slit, teasing your clit “yeah.” You whimpered as your eyes screwed shut feeling him bottom you out.
Timo went slowly, not stopping until your hips were met with his ‘fuck.” you both whispered, taking a moment to breathe as you both took a chance to adjust to how his cock felt in your cunt “you can.” You tapped his arm looking into his eyes as you nodded, giving him the green light to start moving again.
His hips pulled away before he slapped them back into yours, repeating that gesture once, twice, and then a third time. Each was met with a moan as he brought your legs onto his shoulders.
Nico watched on as his cock throbbed against his palm, the way your body jolted was something he never got to savour when he was the one who was fucking you “feels so good.” You confessed turning your head to look at Nico who felt his ego get brushed as your eyes traveled to his hand.
There was a sense of desperation in his pumps, watching you look as if your mouth was watering “you like the way his cock fucks you sweet girl?” Nico felt his stomach tense as you nodded, feeling TImo kiss the skin of your shoulder.
Even as Nico’s cock was longer, Timo felt girthier, practically stuffing you to the brim, with your previous orgasms being used as some form of lube as he continued to fuck you “so good.” You repeated those words, bringing your hands down to cup your tits so that you could tease your nipples.
The older boy wasn’t trying to push your boundaries as you figured that he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable “you weren’t lying that she’s perfect.” Timo groaned as skin slapping echoed against the walls making his skin feel on fire “hear that pretty girl, he thinks that you’re perfect.” Nico smirked letting his head drop back, your cunt clenched at the praise making Timo’s strength waiver.
It brought him back to life almost, reminding him each time that this wasn’t a dream and that he really was getting to fuck you “you like it when he praises you like that?” Timo sucked at your earlobe “yes.” Your head bobbed as your voice cried out.
Nico could see how you chewed at your lip “she is gonna cum soon.” Nico confessed, seeing your cues as he nodded “go play with her pretty little clit to get her over.” He added knowing that it was always the way to make you see the stars.
TImo nodded as he propped one hand up by your head and let his other drop to your clit where his thumb found a home. He circled the sensitive nub as he watched your legs begin to shake, causing him to increase his pace as he was desperate to finish with you.
You arched your back, driving your hips into Timo so that you could reach the high you so desperately craved “fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted a slew of words as your eyes screwed shut when your cunt clenched around his cock, using the short bursts to push him over the edge. Timo dropped his head on your chest as he began to slow down his thrusts until they came to a complete stop. By the time your eyes had opened, you saw that Nico had finished in his hand, too, as you sent him a fucked out smile. It reminded him of how you would look at him if he brought you a coffee as you slept, only waking up when you heard him place the cup on your bedside table.
As Timo pulled out of your cunt his cock went limp making him moan. He watched your eyes begin to close “I’m done.” You announced, unsure that they would try to push you through another round.
Nico’s laugh pulled your attention in his direction “you want a bath schatz?” He offered, getting a paper towel to wipe up his release that had been caught in his hand “you gonna join?” You looked at Timo who looked like a deer caught in headlights.
A cough got caught in his throat as he shook his head “I should get going.” Timo leaned down to press a kiss against your cheek.
What he didn’t want to do was overstay his welcome as Nico nodded “you know how to let yourself out right?” Nico’s words made you glare at him “yeah I’ll let you rest.”Timo squeezed your hand as he pulled his pants up.
Nico sat next to you “well I’ll see you tomorrow then.” The boys had were leaving for a game the next day and they were meant to be sat next to each other on the plane.
Timo got up as he sent you one last look “thanks for the day?” His words made you smile when you nodded “you too T.” You rested your head against Nico’s shoulder.
The boy got to the door as you clicked your tongue “Timo?” You called out making him whip his head around as he nodded “yeah?” In that moment he swore you were going to call him back into the room.
But when Nico kissed your cheek it felt like a bubble had been burst over his head “could you keep Nico and I dating to yourself?” You asked, Nico nodding in agreement “your secret is safe with me.” It wasn’t surprising that the two of you hadn’t told anyone, but somehow being someone who knew of the secret stung Timo’s heart.
You mouthed a ‘thank you’ before the boy left “you have a good time?” Nico asked looking at your eyes “the best time Neeks.” You nodded watching him stand up.
He was quick to pick you up “what are you doing?” You cocked your head, running your fingers over his shoulder “just making sure that my girl knows that I’m the one who takes care of her.” Nico’s possessiveness made you smile.
You pressed a kiss against his cheek when he walked you into the bathroom before he kicked the door shut “as fun as it was to watch you with him and I am glad you had fun.” Nico began running the bath as his eyes never left your naked body “some things shouldn’t be shared?” You asked as he nodded, walking back over to you as he placed his hands on your cheeks.
He was glad you understood where he was coming from “hey now not many people would let another guy fuck him to begin with.” You softly laughed as you kissed him.
The gesture was sweet “I love you.” Nico confessed as you smiled “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” Your words made his heart bloom, feeling as if he was in fact the lucky one because you put up with him.
So as joy spread in the bathroom as the soft scents of rose and lavender invaded your nostrils from the bubble bath Nico poured into your bath. Timo was back in his car as he wondered why Nico was the one you picked, sure he never even knew it was a competition.
But his body longed to be with yours, his mind craved your presence as his ears yearned for your laughter. All Timo truthfully knew was that this was going to be a long season for him if you were going to stay Nico’s.
Before Timo could fully pick a plot though, Luke had ended up in your apartment. When Nico was there too, and that’s when your brother and everyone else learnt about the man you called yours.
Now it was going to make it a lot harder to get you into the Prudential Center quietly, because of course you needed to give Nico a chance to experience his own fantasy too.
#amber writes fics#nhl smut#hockey smut#nico hischier oneshot#nico hischier smut#nico hischier x reader#timo meier smut#timo meier imagines#timo meier x reader#hockey imagines#nhl imagines#threes0me
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Alienated (Aaron Hotchner x Pregnant!Non-BAU!Reader)
word count: 1215
warnings: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, jealous!aaron, fluff, angst? not really
note: just a silly 🤪 little idea that popped into my head - also i’ve been in the writing mood so plz send requests (please see pinned masterlist for who I write for)
Aaron had been gone for two weeks. TWO WHOLE WEEKS. 14 days. 336 hours and counting.
You had been gifted a body pillow by JJ in your first trimester. She swore by it. You didn’t need it much as Aaron was home more often now that you were pregnant.
Aaron promised to not go on any long trips when he found out you were pregnant but the last case was urgent and needed all hands on deck.
It’s Aaron’s first night back and as he adjusted his pajamas pants from under his feet, kicking his feet through the ends, he watched you fluff your pillow.
“You’re gonna sleep with that thing? It’s bigger than Jack.”
“Yeah, it’s so comfy.” You slap the sides and slam your head onto it, throwing a leg over it and sighing once comfortable.
Early on in your pregnancy, you could go without the pillow as he was around more often. But this time around you couldn’t sleep without it.
That first night back you hugged the pillow in between you on the bed. The fuzzy fabric tickled Aaron’s elbow too many times tonight. He figured he could suffer through the night with the pillow wedged into his side for a few more days. Days turned into one week. He then had to take a short trip to Minnesota for a case.
When he came back, his grudge against the pillow had grown. He would ask you to sleep without the pillow but each night he would wake to the cushion lodged in his back. He just couldn’t do it anymore.
He’d like to say it was the lack of sleep but deep down it was the lack of cuddles. Aaron would never admit out loud to being a man who loves cuddling. The team, especially Morgan would never let him live it down.
“Honey, you think we could do without the pillow for tonight? It’s far too big for our bed.”
“Handsome, I need it to sleep throughout the night. The baby likes it.”
He knew as soon as yoy said that, he would never be able to deny you the pillow. “Okay. I can’t deny my girls anything.”
“It’s a boy. I keep telling you I can feel it.” You debate. “You’re a profiler not a psychic.”
“I know that.” He deadpans as he slips under the covers and turns his lamp off. You watch as he pulls the covers over his stomach. He just looks so comfy and cute you toss your pillow to the side and snuggle up to him.
Aaron smirks triumphantly as your hand travels up his shirt and rubs his chest softly.
You focus on his deep breaths as he quickly succumbs to his sleep unlike you.
You toss and turn all night, huffing and puffing as Aaron clings to you. His arm is under your head as your belly rests against his ribcage. Aaron runs hot at nights and you need your blanket but right now you feel suffocated. You throw the blanket away from your body.
“Aaron. I can’t do this. I need to sleep with my pillow.” You groan and shift to sit up. Aaron groggily pushes at your lower back to help you up.
“I’m going to burn that pillow.” He mumbles under his breath. He believes he said it too low for you to hear but you do anyway.
“What? Why?” You gasp, pulling the pillow up from the floor.
“I haven’t gotten a proper nights sleep with that thing.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And,” he emphasizes, “you don’t cuddle me at night anymore.”
It’s rude and you know it but you laugh. A genuine, from the belly, laugh. When you thought he couldn’t look more grumpy and stoic, he surprises you. It only makes you giggle louder and longer.
“Okay, that’s it. I’m sleeping with Jack.” He throws the comforter off his lap and moves his legs over the side of the bed.
“No! No, I’m sorry.” You struggle to rise to your knees, crawling towards him and reaching out. You pull at his t-shirt before he can get off the bed. “I don’t mean to laugh but… are you jealous of my pillow?”
“I’m not jealous.” He huffs and lets you pull him back onto the bed. His back hits the mattress and you dangle over him, hands on his shoulders. He’s upside down and even then you can see how annoyed he is.
“I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, handsome.” You cup his face, fingertips tickling under his chin and thumbs rubbing his lower lip and chin. Aaron crosses his arms over his chest. There’s a barely there pout on his lips.
You lean down as best as you can with your belly in the way. You kiss his lips somehow soft even with a slight chap to them. He melts almost immediately. You sit up to look at him, hands now on your belly.
“You know sometimes, when you’re away, I wrap one of your polos or sweaters around the pillow. They smell like you and it helps me sleep.” You brush hair from his forehead. “And if I’m feeling nasty, I even put a button up and tie.”
He snorts out a laugh. “Alright, no need for that.” He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Fine, because that was really sweet and kind of funny, you can keep the pillow but it has to stay at the edge of the bed. Can’t be in between us.”
“No! I like facing you.” You pout. “I’m pregnant, you have to be nice to me.”
“I am very nice to you.” He states, sitting up. “We’re going to have to get a bigger bed.”
“That’s dramatic, Aaron but listen, I’ll compromise and sleep facing the other way as long as you spoon me.”
Aaron thinks for a moment, “deal.”
You stick out you hand for him and he immediately grabs it, shaking it.
You shake your head with a laugh before dropping back down onto the bed. You get comfortable as you snuggle against the pillow. Aaron watches and waits and when you’re settled, he shuts the light off and scoots his front flush to your back. His right hand snakes under his pillow and his left scoops under your belly.
“Just think, only a few more weeks of this and you won’t have to suffer.” You remind him, you’re reaching the end of your pregnancy.
He pulls you closer to him, head buried in the back of your neck. You feel him nod. He’s quiet and you gently twist in his arms to look at him. “You okay?”
“As much as I hate your pillow, I’m going to miss you being pregnant. I love seeing you with a bump.”
“Just think, we’ll finally have our baby. A little brother for Jack.”
“Or sister.” He whispers.
“Or sister.” You roll your eyes playfully. After a few moments of silence, you know he’s still awake, just savoring the moment with you. “Hey, do you think I can tell JJ about you being jealous of the pillow?”
“You tell JJ and she’s fired.” He jokes, “she’s my least favorite employee now.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her that when I see her.” You laugh.
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Take a Shot
shy!eddie x fem!reader
You work at the bar Eddie frequents all of your flirting always seems to go right over his head until one night, you're honest with him.
cw: hurt/comfort, mention of alcohol
The bar is hazy when Eddie and Robin enter it, a loud country song playing through the speakers. This isn’t either of their scene, but it’s right across the street from their apartment and tonight they could use a drink. But the real reason why Eddie wanted to be there is behind the bar, taking orders. Your bright smile shines from where he’s standing and he’s immediately hypnotized by you.
He doesn’t even like this place or its vibe, but you’re there so he’s going to suck it up. He’s been coming in every night for almost a month and has yet to make a move on you like he so badly wants to. He doesn’t know why you’re so intimidating, but you are. You’re just so pretty and those low cut tops you wear make his brain short circuit.
He’s actually going to ask you out tonight. That’s the whole reason why he brought Robin. He wanted Steve, but he’s sick so this will just have to do, he supposes. He’s seen you make small talk with Robin on more than one occasion so he’s hoping that this will work in his favor. He had Robin pull some tarot cards before the two of them left just to be sure.
“She’s going to say ‘yes’,” Robin tells him while giving his arm a nudge, pulling him out of his daze. He shakes his head and turns to her, not quite believing her hopeful smile. “I hope this makes you feel better coming from me since I play for an entirely different team, but you’re hot, okay?”
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder and pressed a smacking kiss to her cheek that she’s immediately disgusted by.
“Good, because that actually made me feel a little sick so I will definitely never be saying that again.” She wipes her cheek on her shoulder before leading Eddie to the bar. They take seats on the stools and as soon as you come over to greet them, he freezes.
He’s never felt this way before and he’s honestly unsure why this is happening. Why he completely shuts down when you’re around. He can usually at least somewhat flirt with a woman, but with you, none of his sentences make sense and he ends up just floundering. That’s really the reason why he brought Robin along. He can’t even fucking order a drink when he looks into your pretty eyes.
“Hey handsome,” you wink at him and he still just stares at you, wondering how you always somehow look so beautiful in the weird bar lighting. “Jack and Coke?” You ask and all he can do is nod. You then turn to Robin who gives you a knowing look, the two of you able to communicate with just a look.
“And a Texas margarita for ya Rob?”
“Yes ma’am,” she nods.
You head to the other side of the bar to make their drinks and Eddie watches as if you’ve hypnotized him somehow. Robin looks at you then at him before shaking her head. He’s a lost cause at this point and she had no fucking clue how he’s going to ask you out when it seems like all of the words in the English language seem to float out of his brain when he’s around you.
She’s considering ordering a round of shots to give him some liquid courage because he clearly needs it. She’s honestly very close to just hiding out in the bathroom so he’ll have no choice but talk to you because Robin cannot take one more night of your very obvious flirting going over the man’s head. The whole thing is just painful to watch.
“One Jack and Coke,” you set the drink in front of Eddie. “And a Texas margarita.” The other drink is set in front of Robin and you stand there, hoping, waiting for something but Eddie’s not sure what. He just sips on his drink, the most oblivious man in the world.
“Y’all keeping that tab open?”
The awkward tension is palpable and you’re wondering if you maybe read it wrong and Eddie actually hates you despite what Robin told you. He never talks to you and when he does, it’s one word responses which just seems like he just doesn’t want to talk to you.
It’s a shame, really, because you think he’s cute and when you see him interact with Robin or Steve, he’s all jokes and laughs. Part of you wants to just come out and ask him, but you’re not even sure if he’ll give you a straight answer. It seems like he wants nothing to do with you and if so, that’s perfectly fine with you.
“Yep,” Robin nods, taking a sip of her drink before hopping off the stool. “Well, I’m gonna go to the restroom. Y’all feel free to talk amongst yourselves.” She winks at you before heading down the hallway where the bathrooms are located.
You almost want to call after her, but she’s gone before you can, leaving you alone with Eddie who seems very interested in fiddling with the straw wrapper that was left on the bar. You’re glad that you’re not stupid enough to actually believe her since Robin will stop at nothing to try to set you up with Eddie. This all just a scheme to get the two of you alone, well, as alone as you can be when you’re in a bar where other customers are present.
The awkward tension is palpable without Robin’s presence and you’re scrambling trying to find something, anything to say that would interest him. Not that he’ll respond because he never does no matter what he says. Just as you’re about to throw in the towel, and check on your other customers, he actually speaks up.
“You don’t have to do this anymore,” he says, almost like he’s unimpressed and now you’re worried that you blew it, that all of these weeks of flirting will have all been for nothing.
“Do what?” You ask even though there’s only one thing that he could be talking about. You just want to hear him say it. The verbal confirmation that he’s not interested so you can move on.
“This,” he motions between the two of you, referring to you then him, trying to show that he’s talking about the two of you. “You don’t have to keep flirting with me just to appease Robin.”
Now you’re really confused. You don’t know what he’s talking about. You were never flirting with him to appease Robin. Sure, she’s been trying to set the two of you up, but you’d never flirt with someone else just to make your friend happy. That’s just a waste of everyone’s time.
You let out a laugh, one that’s probably a little too loud and now Eddie’s cheeks have gone pink. You’re laughing and he’s even more embarrassed than he was before. He’s getting up to leave but you stop him before he can get too far, reaching across the bar to grab hold of his wrist.
His eyes widen at your touch and you quickly let go, worried that you’ve crossed a boundary. Before he can leave, though, you’re quick to grab a napkin and a marker, scribbling down your number before handing it to him, watching his eyebrows furrow as he looks down at the thing.
“I like you, okay? You’re sweet and smart and very easy on the eyes. Look, I know you’re a man of few words, but you should call me sometime. I’d love to know your thoughts on Lord of the Rings. I’ll be home by one so I’m expecting a call from you,” you wink then turn on your heel, heading to the other side of the bar to tend to the other customers.
Eddie stares at you for a split second then pays his tab before hurrying home so he can thoroughly plan out what he’s going to say when he calls you. He’s pretty sure that not seeing you will make him significantly less nervous. As soon as he gets to his room, he writes a script for himself so he won’t sound like an idiot.
When you get home that morning, sure enough, there’s a message on your answering machine, Eddie rambling on about how he’s read all the books and seen the movies more times than he can count. He then goes on to tell you the changes that were made in the movie that he liked and what he didn’t. The message has to be at least ten minutes long, but you listen to it three times as you snuggle up in your bed, preparing to give Eddie a call which will definitely only be the first of many.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#shy!eddie
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uh oh 👀👀👀
Z shines like an angel in the light of the burning debris falling around him. A grin on his face and a lit bomb in hand—unleashed.
S watches him fondly from the cover of a street pole
It's good to see him like this, she thinks. Even if it can't last for long.
"Back up a bit, Z!"
The voice of T-piece slices S from her reveries. She points her shotgun towards the club entrance, covering Z's retreat.
The brass grate road is scattered with the remains of a carriage and the mechanical steeds that once pulled it. Looking at the corpse of the alternate inside it—her own—S knows that Z's intervention came just in time. Even in death, the clone is fuzzy around the edges. There must've been two or three universes intersecting at that point already, and the rot was about to burst. If the clone had been allowed to lay eyes on S-prime…well, it’s a good thing Z got there first!
In through a crack in the base of S's mind flows a steady trickle of new memories—a whole life lived under violet skies—ended in flames within the carriage before her now. Samantha.
S dashes those memories away with a hum of her favorite showtune. It shouldn't be this easy, but she's had a lot of practice.
An L-clone crawls sobbing from the wreckage. Burnt and broken, with too many limbs and more and more eyes with each passing second—
S unloads into its center mass, stopping the reaction short. A satisfying gurgle rewards her.
This world is more spoiled than we thought, S muses.
Not that she cares all that much. It's one of those tech worlds that's killed most of its plants—S-prime couldn't even find a window-box to poach. Useless. It's been too long since she's had something new to add to the garden—
"S, on your right!"
A rush of air as someone sweeps past S's side. The familiar smell of sweat. Bare shoulders glistening in the violet city lights.
T-piece bounds over the wreckage like a young god of war, one hand swinging a metal bat and the other wielding a set of brass knuckles edged with an outward-facing blade—a trench spike. T dives low, a practiced movement taking them just under the spread of her shotgun. S fires again into the chest of the Z-clone running out of the club. She feels more than sees T-piece taking down somone in her periphery. The crunch of impact sounds suspiciously non-fatal—so it's probably some world resident looking to make themselves a hero that he's dealing with.
Whoever you are, be thankful sweet T-piece dealt with you before you got to me.
More bodies stream out of the club’s open doors, dressed in glitter and glass and wearing faces of panic—none of them known to her. S lets them flow around her unscathed. A twisting pair of Z-clones emerges and S is ready to meet them.
From down the street charge a gaggle of familiar faces—but before S can more than register them out of the corner of her eye a series of muffled shots drops them one by one.
Mighty I-prime. Efficient as always. The bastard.
A second later one of Z's bombs belatedly lands on the corpses and detonates.
"You fucking show off!" Z shouts towards I-prime's position above. "I had this!"
No reply save smug silence.
"Of course you did, darling," S says, turning to cover the other end of the street. "You're where you're supposed to be, unlike someone."
S waits for T-piece to tell them to focus, to save it for the post-mission angry sex (which never really works out the pressure points but it does soothe them for awhile)—but this time…
He doesn't.
Strange.
S's watch blares a sudden alarm—one short blast and three longs. She has scant moments to shield her face with a forearm before J is released from the Hold.
The windows on the ground floor of the club all shatter at once. A hailstorm of knives whistles above S's head. A warm mist settles over her skin—the blood of alternates, shed from J's blades as they fly by.
S whoops from adrenaline and delight. Z answers her with a cackle, his laughter rising up like a firework ascending to beautiful destruction. Z reaches up into the gap between the worlds and pulls down a string of firecrackers. He races towards the club doors and the battle beyond, lighting fuses as he flies.
“Wait!” T-piece screams. “Z, stop!”
S gets it a moment later.
In the street around the club they’ve encountered alternates of I, of herself, of L and J. Coming out of the club, however…
It’s just been Z.
We knew most of the Z-clones would be inside, that’s why we were supposed to cover down the street, not the entrance!
S bellows Z’s name.
All those Z-clones, in a world this badly spoiled—if they see their prime, is that a chain reaction we can even stop?
Z turns his head towards their cries. S prays for him to understand—
But before Z has a chance to stop himself, a higher power intervenes.
Emerald vines, thick as a wrist and lined with sharp prickles, burst from a fold in space beneath Z’s feet and entangle him. Z hollers in shock and in pain—but is halted.
“What the fuck?” Z calls, thrashing against the Hold.
S rushes to him. Fuck the fight, fuck the mission, and fuck I-piece for being in the wrong damn spot!
And T-piece doesn’t stop her. S glimpses them as her feet fly. T stands still and upright in the haze of blood and viscera. Their eyes carry a blunt anger that burns even from S’s periphery.
“Hold the line!” T-piece shouts. “I’m gonna find I. And have a talk.”
S doesn’t turn back to respond, only raising a thumbs up in acknowledgement.
Later, that will haunt her. That she didn’t turn to see T go.
On the bloody brass street S faces Z, furious and helpless, and embraces him. She presses her body against his thorns and nips at the lobe of his ear.
“I fucked up,” Z breathes into her neck.
“I know, darling. It’s okay.”
“It’s okay,” Z repeats. “I'm alright. Hold the line.”
“I know.”
One more squeeze—to make them both yelp, to intermingle the blood from fresh scratches, to remind Z that pain is nothing but together they are everything—and S returns her focus to the broken windows before her.
T-piece is right, S thinks. Z's right. Gotta focus. We can't go losing worlds for dumb reasons.
The idle thought slips through her brain like a trout through a stream, unopposed and unquestioned. It's something S simply knows—the same way she knows what dolphins are and who Judy Garland is and how the Martian Civil War was lost and that plants need light to grow.
Wouldn't want the Boss getting angry.
alright here's the rundown. more detailed version coming soon probably. the things i do for you guys
(transcript of prologue below the cut)
It's a lavender sky this time, this world. A lavender sky deepening to aubergine over a city of neon and brass. It's beautiful in it's way, just like any other city on any other world.
I-prime hasn't bothered to learn its name.
He stands in the hotel window, watching the burnished streets below gleam with fading light. The rhythmic thrum beneath his feet signals the rousing of the club below. They're playing a song that I has never heard in his life, yet part of him remembers it all the same.
The blank-faced watch on his wrist chimes a single long tone. I-piece taps its face without taking his eyes off the path into the nightclub.
"Hello, T."
"You're not in position," T says through the speaker. Their voice betrays none of the frustration that I knows he must feel.
"I'm where I need to be," I-prime says.
"We talked about this—"
"Yes, you talked, that's what you do. I make decisions."
T-piece's response is cut off by further chimes from the watch. Short, long, short, short—then the voice of L comes through.
"There's no time," she says. "The Boss just Held onto J. It's on, it's now."
"As expected," says I.
With a snap of his fingers the air before him splits. I-prime reaches into the crack between two universes and retrieves his sniper rifle. He looks down its sights, out the window, down the gleaming street.
Someone approaches the door to the club. A tall, svelt man with a face that I-prime is so sick of seeing other people wear.
I wonder what this one's named, I-prime muses as he lines up the shot.
Izaak? Ignacius? Indigo?
As he pulls the trigger on himself from another life, I-prime knows it doesn't matter what this alternate is called.
He lost track of their names a long time ago.
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