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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 6 months ago

Note

How do you feel about writing more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler? After watching X Men 97, I forgot how charismatic this elf man can be. If possible, I need an introverted reader with barely any social skills who starts to malfunction whenever a certain blue is around. When confronted, reader is basically 'you're too pretty' and almost dies of embarrassment.

Social System Error

Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1.9K A/N: I changed it a little bit to fit the scenario, but I hope it's still up to your expectations :)

You wished that the ground would swallow you up. Who knows, maybe you would find a mutant who could grant you that wish, as long as you looked hard enough. Clasping your hands to your face, you felt your cheeks grow hot and slid down the door of the room before sitting on the floor.

Why couldn't you be normal for once? Talk to him normally for once, make small talk and say goodbye elegantly? But you weren't allowed to do that. Instead, you had to run into the next door just because Kurt waved at you and gave you one of his most charming laughs. Instead, you spilled your coffee all over the table just because he entered the room. I

nstead, you couldn't get a word out when he came your way, you just turned around on the spot. It was horrible.

The fact that you had developed a crush on the blue mutant was really no secret and the fact that he hadn't noticed was a real miracle. Or maybe he had found out and just decided not to do anything. You didn't know which option was worse.

So far, you had really done your best to avoid him as much as possible so that he wouldn't think of talking to you, but you could always at least catch a glimpse of the blue mutant out of the corner of your eye. You just couldn't help it, Kurt was wonderful. He was funny, charming, polite, intelligent and incredibly attractive. One look at his face with a beaming smile was enough to make your legs go weak.

And today you had really blown it.

Rogue had finally managed to convince her brother to stay at the school and he had decided to teach some of the classes. You were both thrilled and devastated at the prospect of seeing this wonderful man every day, and probably embarrassing yourself every day after you'd already ogled him more than once.

However, when you had entered the staff room at lunchtime and seen Kurt sitting next to Ro on the sofa in his shirt, suit trousers and loose tie, you had immediately stormed out of the room with a bright red face and gone to the staff bathroom, where no one had been at the time. In hindsight, you really should have locked that door.

You energetically threw another handful of cold water onto your face and rubbed your cheeks several times to be on the safe side, hoping to drive out the redness. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," you mumbled and leaned against the edge of the sink, head bent forward. "How am I supposed to survive this. God, I bet Rogue recommended these clothes to him. Lord help me."

Nervously, you began to pace up and down, ruffling your hair. "Why does he have to look so good? Can't he be ... normal attractive? Not inhumanly, divinely attractive?" You'd embarrass yourself, really embarrass yourself, and he'd never talk to you again. Or worse, think you're pathetic and talk to you out of pity.

You came to a halt in front of the mirror again and looked at your reflection. "No, no." You couldn't bear the thought. "Okay." You exhaled and leaned against the edge of the sink again. "It can't be that difficult. Just be normal. Or whatever," you mumbled. "Just be cool. Kurt's just another teacher, he probably doesn't even know you exist. You just go up to him and start a conversation, that's all."

You exhaled. "You can do this, take it easy." You looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror, and put on your most believable smile. "'Hi Kurt, how ya doing?' No, no, that's too casual." You paused for a moment and thought. "'Good afternoon, Mr. Wagner, how are you today?' Oh God, far too formal."

You wipe your face in frustration. "Come on, it's just a conversation, nothing more. You can talk to students all day. What's the difference? Apart from the fact that Kurt is a lot more attractive and wonderful and that you have a crush?" You gave a somewhat exasperated and forced laugh. "Nothing more than that. Gambit would laugh at you if he saw you like that." Your fingers drummed on the porcelain of the basin.

"'Hi Kurt, I just wanted to take a minute to say that I really admire you and think you're wonderful and funny and...um I've seen you around here quite a bit and..." Groaning, you threw your hands up in the air. "God, I sound like a crazy person! Or a stalker! Or both! This is way too much too soon. Just... keep it casual. 'Hey, you're Kurt, aren't you? I'm glad you've decided to stay with us'."

You nod and run your fingers through your hair again. "That works, doesn't it? It's not too casual but not too formal and I don't sound like a crazy stalker who's way too obsessed with a stranger. Okay, good, you can do it. Just relax and stay cool. Who knows, maybe he won't even notice you and you won't have to talk-“ As you turn around mid-motion, you freeze in place, your heart skipping a beat. "-with him," you added meekly, your eyes widening in panic as you realize who’s been silently listening to your pep talk. Across from you, leaning against one of the toilet stalls, is Kurt, his arms crossed in front of his chest and an amused smile playing on his lips. His tail whips lightly through the air, as he slowly releases his arms from their twist.

You had to admit that your next move wasn't particularly brave. All the self-confidence you had been trying to build up over the last five minutes had disappeared and you did what was the only logical thing to do: you dashed past Kurt out of the bathroom, sprinting down the corridor, feeling incredibly grateful that you didn't have any more lessons today, meaning that you could hide in your room in the hope that you would never have to face him again.

Just the thought of it made your face flush with shame and you threw yourself onto your bed to release frustrated screams into your pillow. You weren't quite sure how long you'd been lying there, but a knock on your door brought you out of your racing thoughts. You didn't really feel the need to talk right now, but you heaved yourself out of bed anyway when there was a second knock.

You were pretty sure you must look horrible, clothes and hair out of place from the bed, but usually only Gambit or Jean came by and both had seen you in some worse circumstances. Sighing, you opened the door. "Listen, I'm not-" You broke off mid-sentence, looking up wide-eyed at the person in front of you, who was definitely not Gambit or Jean.

"Hello, am I interrupting?" Kurt looked down at you, his lips curled into a sweet smile and your heart instantly beat in your throat as the heat rose in your cheeks. You could only shake your head, causing Kurt to smile even wider. "Wonderful." He stepped slightly towards you, leaning against your doorframe, and you were pretty sure you were going to explode instantly.

"Can I...I help you?" Your voice was barely audible and shaky and you tried your best to avoid eye contact, but it was so incredibly difficult. Kurt's eyes were bright and shining and so attractive that she found it hard to look anywhere else.

"Indeed yes." His smile became more mischievous and you were pretty sure your legs wouldn't be able to hold you up for much longer, they were so weak. "I saw you storming out of the staffroom earlier and I was worried. What if you're ill? Or something is wrong? So I thought I should follow you to make sure you were okay."

It was pure torture. You wanted to sink into the ground, get struck by lightning, anything just to avoid having to have this conversation. Kurt, however, seemed quite determined to do so.

"But when I got to the bathroom, something was revealed to me that I could never have guessed." Ashamed, you turned away, your hands over your face. "I'm so incredibly sorry Kurt, I really am... I'm so unbelievably embarrassed right now. Please, forget I said that."

He raised an eyebrow and looked slightly amused. "You called me wonderful and funny. That's a little hard to forget." You groaned. "God, kill me."

"Ah, ah, ah, let's not start with that," he admonished, raising a finger. His smile softened and he gently stroked a finger over your hand, which was still covering your face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. There's nothing wrong with it. Even if I don't quite understand why." At that moment, you decided that it couldn't get much worse and that if you were going to be embarrassed, you could at least get it all out at once. That way you would have limited the most embarrassing moment of your life to a few hours and not a period of weeks or months.

"Because I like you and you're incredibly attractive and perfect, but I'm not brave enough to tell you that and so I become a walking mess around you every time and I'm only telling you this so I can get it over with and you only have to reject me once and not twice."

You had spoken quickly and quietly and were pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to understand you, however he seemed to do so as he stepped towards you and slowly stroked your cheek again, this time more tenderly and with a sugary sweet smile on his face.

"Actually, that hadn't quite been the plan, my dear," he murmurs, a gentle lilt to his voice. His tail emerges from behind him, swaying lightly as if adding to the suspense. With widening eyes, you realize he's holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped with it.

Perplexed yet touched by his gesture, you accept the bouquet, feeling the soft petals under your fingertips. His smile broadens, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Can I take you out to dinner? Tonight?"

Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a mix of surprise and excitement. "What?" you stammered, caught off guard by his unexpected invitation. He chuckled lightly, tapping your chin, which had dropped in astonishment.

"I'm asking you out," he repeated with a playful grin. You were at a loss for words, your mind racing as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through you. When you finally managed to utter a "yes," your voice came out as no more than a soft squeak, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Kurt smiled contentedly, took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. "Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. I'll pick you up." With a wink and a slight bounce in his step, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, bouquet in hand, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

As the realization sunk in, you hurriedly set the bouquet down on your table and dashed down the corridor to Gambit's room.

You had a date with Kurt Wagner, and the sudden rush of excitement left you with one pressing question: What on earth were you going to wear?

Part 2 (in work)

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #x men #xmen #x men 97 #xmen 97

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imaginaryf1shots · 3 months ago

Text

You’re Mine | Charles Leclerc

WC: 6K

Possessive!Charles x Innocent!reader

Summery: You’re Arthur’s childhood BFF, you’ve been around the Leclerc for years before you had to move away. But now you’re back for a few months, not knowing that you’re here to stay.

Warning: Manipulation, jealousy, toxic relationships, more things to come.

AN: Honestly I have no idea what I feel a bout this, I’m not 100% satisfied. I may delete it later. my fist attempt at a dark fic.

Also, this was requested a very long time ago, I lost the request, though.

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Growing up in Monaco, you went to the same school as Arthur Leclerc. Arthur, with his messy brown hair and infectious laughter, was your closest friend. Your friendship began in a playground and quickly formed an unbreakable bond. You’d always race your bikes down narrow lanes, building sandcastles on Larvotto beach, or exploring the markets with insatiable curiosity. You two were inseparable.

Your families met because of your bond, and they formed their own friendships. It was due to the closeness that your families formed that you got to meet his brothers.

You saw Charles and Arthur karting, and you;d go with them from time to time, but while they were competitive and wanted to do it for life, you just wanted to join them and have fun. One of the reasons you and Arthur got so close is because you got into what the other liked and had fun while doing it.

Yet, in the background of your friendship with Arthur was your crush on his older brother, Charles. Charles is older by a few years and carried an air of confidence that captivated your young heart. He always seemed so cool, had that unattainable air around him, his striking looks and natural charm didn’t help. He was the epitome of everything you admired, but to him you were just his little brother’s friend, a mere child.

Charles has always been so sweet with you, and no matter how much time passed the blush that always graced your cheeks around him always stayed, it was permanent whenever he was in the same room as you.

You remember vividly the simmer afternoons spent at the Leclerc household. Arthur would always drag you along to play video games or just spend time together, while Charles, often busy with his racing aspirations, would give you a smile. Those moments, however brief and meaningless in the scheme of things, fouled your childish infatuation. You watched him from a distance, never expecting to actually catch his attention one day.

You thought you were discreet with your crush, but once you’re out of earshot, the adults would always joke about it, your mums dreaming of being one family one day and planning the wedding. It amused them to see how much you hung on every world Charles said and looked at him as if he was an angel, and how oblivious Charles was.

You remember the day your world turned upside down very well, it’s etched in your memory. Your father announced out of the blue, “We’re relocating to New York.” He said, excitement in his voice. The news felt like a punch to the gut. You were only twelve, but the thought of leaving Arthur and your familiar world behind was devastating.

“We’ll stay in touch, promise?” Arthur, who was equally crushed by news said his voice was shaky but he was determined. You both exchanged trinkets as tokens of your friendship. A bracelet from you and a racing car from him.

“Always.” You replied, tears brimming your eyes.

The move was a whirlwind, and soon you found yourself in the concrete jungle of New York City, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of Monaco. Despite the distance, you and Arthur remained in touch. Long phone calls, video chats, and countless messages kept your friendship alive. You shared your experiences, your struggles, and your triumphs, growing up together despite the miles between you.

Years passed, and your infatuation with Charles dimmed to a fond memory as you immerse yourself in your new life. But as you matured, you often wondered how different things might have been if you had stayed in Monaco. The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a faint but persistent echo of your childhood dreams.

Now, at twenty-one, you stood at a crossroads, ready to reconnect with the past. The opportunity to return to Europe for a summer was too enticing to pass up. Once Arthur heard about it he was ecstatic at the prospect of you two meeting again, and plans were quickly made for your grand reunion. The anticipation of seeing him again, of revisiting the places that shaped your childhood, filled you with excitement and a touch of nostalgia.

Little did you know, this trip would be more than just a walk down memory lane. It would be a journey that would intertwine your fate with Charles once more, in ways you could never have imagined.

The plane descended towards the Côte d'Azur Airport, and as you gazed out the window, your heart raced with anticipation. The Mediterranean's blue expanse sparkled below, the coastline of Monaco coming into view. It had been a decade since you'd seen these familiar sights, but they felt like a distant yet vivid memory.

After clearing customs, you wheeled your suitcase through the bustling terminal. Your excitement was palpable, mingled with the nervousness of reuniting with a childhood friend after so long. Would Arthur have changed much? Would your bond still be as strong? It has been the same online but, being face to face could be different.

Stepping out into the arrivals area, you scanned the crowd. And there he was, Arthur Leclerc, standing tall with that same mischievous grin you remembered. His hair was a bit shorter, his features more mature, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable. A spark that video class couldn’t carry.

“Y/N!” Arthur called out, his voice filled with joy. You waved back, and in moments, you were enveloped in a tight hug.

"Arthur! It's so good to see you." You said, pulling back to take in his appearance. “You’re so tall now.”

"It’s good to see you! You look amazing." He replied, his eyes shining with genuine warmth. "I can't believe it's been ten years, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You say tearing up, Arthur’s eyes get glossy as well, and you’re hugging once again, this time you stay in each other’s arms for a bit longer.

“Come on, let's get you out of here and catch up." Arthur says after you pull back, he takes your bags and heads to his car.

The drive from the airport to Monaco was filled with laughter and stories, both of you eager to fill in the gaps of the years apart, things that haven’t been said on calls. Arthur had grown into a confident young man, his passion for racing more intense than ever. You shared your adventures in New York, the highs and lows, and the dreamlike quality of returning to Europe.

As you arrived in Monaco, a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The narrow streets, the bustling harbour, the luxurious buildings. It was all like you remembered, yet with a sense of newness. Arthur drove you to his family's home, where you'd be staying.

Stepping inside, you were hit with memories of your childhood. The familiar scent of the house, the photos on the walls, it was like stepping back in time. Arthur took your bags to a room in a house, before you followed him.

“Y/N!” A delighted voice came from the kitchen as you walked in. Pascale Leclerc, Arthur’s mother, emerged with a warm smile. She looked hardly changed, still radiating the same kindness and elegance you remembered.

“Mama Pascale!” you exclaimed, rushing to hug her.

“It’s been too long, mon ange” She said, hugging you tightly. “Look at you! All grown up and even more beautiful.”

You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. It feels like coming home.”

“We’ve missed you around here. Arthur has talked non-stop about your visit.” Pascale’s eyes twinkled.

Arthur rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, she’s finally here. And I’ve got big plans to show her around.”

“I’m sure you do. But first, let’s get you settled in.” Pascale laughed. Arthur led you to your room.

“You’ll be staying in Charles’s old room.” He said, opening the door. “He moved out a while ago, but we’ve kept it nice for guests.”

The room was spacious and neatly arranged, with a large window offering a stunning view of the city below. It felt both strange and intimate to be staying in Charles’s old room, surrounded by remnants of his past, trophies, posters, and photos of his racing career.

“Wow.” You said, looking around. “This is amazing.”

Arthur grinned. “Glad you like it. Make yourself at home. We’ve got dinner in a bit, and then I’ll show you around the house.”

After freshening up, you joined the Leclerc family for dinner, minus Charles and Enzo who were out of Monaco for a race. The meal was filled with laughter and stories, and you felt a warmth that you’d missed in New York. Pascale’s cooking was as delicious as you remembered, and the conversation flowed easily, with Arthur and his mother making you feel like you’d never left.

Later, Arthur gave you a tour of the house. As you walked through the house, memories flooded back, each room telling a story of your shared past. You spent the first week catching up, going to your favourite sports when you were young, going into Nice, meeting his friends and having the time of your lives.

"Guess what?" Arthur said with a twinkle in his eye as you joined him in the living room, one afternoon. "I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" You echoed, curious.

“Charles got us tickets for the Spain race next weekend.”

“Race?” Your heart skipped a beat. “That sounds incredible, thank you Arthur.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Charles when we see him.” Arthur shrugged off your gratitude.

”I will.” You say softly, a hint of nervousness hits you.

That evening, you and Arthur walked along the promenade, reminiscing about old times. The city was alive with activity, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging, a feeling you'd missed more than you realised, making you want to move back here and not return to New York after the summer.

You flew to Spain with Arthur, it was like going on a trip with your best friend after speaking about it for years, the trip made it out of the chat. You made it for qualifying day, you dressed casually, but delicately. Your style is very feminine, yet stylish, and you weren’t afraid to show some skin here and there.

You followed Arthur through the vibrant energy of the race circuit. The roar of engines, the cheers of the crowd, it was electrifying. Arthur was in his element, greeting fellow racers and team members with ease.

As you walked through the paddock, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Turning, you met the gaze of the one and only Charles Leclerc. He was standing with his team, his attention focused entirely on you. Time seemed to freeze. The boy you once had a crush on was now a strikingly handsome man, exuding charisma and confidence.

Charles hadn’t looked you up on social media so he had no idea how you looked after 10 years. Yet, he had no doubt in his mind that the female Arthur was walking with is you. His eyes ran over your cream sundress with small flowers on it, the straps were thin and there was a slit up your thigh. With every step Charles could see your leg peaking through.

Charles approached, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Arthur, who's this?” He asked, though his gaze suggested he already knew.

”Y/n, you remember her from school, she moved to New York.” Arthur grinned.

"Of course, Y/N. You've...changed a lot." He said, his voice heavy, thick.

“Well, I’m not eleven anymore.” You say with a sweet smile.

”Clearly.” Charles says under his breath, you’re more beautiful up close. “Welcome back.”

”Thanks, Charlie, it’s good to be back.” Your heart fluttered, the old nickname slipping so easily from your lips. Charles had to swallow and force a smile, it’s been seconds since he saw you again, and you already have some type of effect on him.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement. You watched the quali with Arthur, cheering loudly as cars zoomed by, the drivers skillfully navigating the track. It was exhilarating, a stark reminder of the world you'd once been so close to. Charles qualified P2. You weren’t able to see him for the rest of the day, due to briefing, and strategy meetings.

The next day during a break, Arthur introduced you to some of his friends, including a few drivers. You chatted amiably, feeling the warmth of their welcome. But all the while, you were acutely aware of Charles' presence. His gaze followed you, filled with something more intense.

At one point, you found yourself alone with him in the team’s hospitality area. Charles leaned against the table, his eyes locked onto yours.

"So, what do you think of everything so far?" He asked, his voice smooth.

"It's amazing." You replied, trying to steady your nerves. "I've missed this energy."

"I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s good to see you again, Y/N. You’ve grown up." He smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a shiver down your spine. The way he said it, made your heart race. There was a hint of something possessive in his tone, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it is.

"Thank you, Charles. You’ve...changed too."

”Here give me your phone, so I can put my number in.” Charles held out his hand and you gave him your phone. Charles quickly punched in his phone number and saved it. You were distracted by some shouting some people were doing and didn’t see what he was doing, giving Charles the perfect opportunity to send himself your live location and delete it from your chat. “Here you go.”

”Great.” Before you could delve deeper into the conversation, Arthur returned.

"Ready to head back?" He asked, looking between you and Charles with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, let's go." You said, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.

Back in Monaco the days flew by in a whirlwind of races, dinners, and nostalgic explorations with Arthur. Yet, no matter where you went, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Charles’ eyes on you. Always watching you.

Charles would appear at the cafe where you and Arthur were having lunch, or join you for a spontaneous outing. His attention felt flattering, a validation of the childhood crush you’d once harboured.

One afternoon, you were walking around Monaco, before you had to meet Arthur after his appointment. While you were walking Charles found you and took the liberty to stay with you. Charles suggested a walk along the harbour, and you agreed, enjoying the idea of catching up with him.

As you strolled along the waterfront, Charles’ hand brushed against yours. The first time you deemed it an accident, but as it kept happening, that childish blush you used to have in his presence reappeared.

“You know.” He began, his voice low and serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you since you came back.”

”Really?” You looked up at him, surprised by his tone.

”Yes.” He said, his eyes darkening slightly, but he gave you a slight smile to cover up his inner thoughts from showing. “I can’t help but feel protective of you, you’ve grown up so much, and… well, I don’t like the idea of you being here alone, so just whenever Arthur is busy just call me, yeah?”

”Yeah, I will.” You continued walking with Charles, when a store caught your eyes. "Charlie, can we go into that store?"

“Of course.” You and Charles head into the boutique. Charles places his hand on your back as he guides you in the shop. Your cheeks flushed, you thought he'd remove his hand once you're inside the shop but his hands stayed there. Charles followed you around the shop as you looked at all the trinkets, a vintage jewellery box gaining your attention.

“Charlie, look, isn't it cute?” You pick up the box and open it, turning to show the man behind you, Charles's hand stays on you, but it moves from your back to your waist.

“It's very cute.” You look up only to see him looking at you, you bite your bottom lip to stop the smile from forming on your face, Charles' eyes fall onto your lips before they go back to your eyes. You turn back around and look through the shelves, smiling to yourself now that he couldn't see your face. Or so you thought, Charles caught your smile in one of the mirrors on the shelf. He was happy that he made you smile, your smile is so sweet he wants it all to himself. After a bit of browsing you end up with a couple things that you liked. The guy at the till smiles at you, Charles' jaw clenches. Charles' hands drop from your back to his pocket he takes out his card and hands it

to the guy.

“Charliee, I can pay.” You whine and try to give the guy your card, but Charles takes your hand in his and drops it.

“You're never paying when I'm with you, amour.” You pout but put your card back in your small bag you carried with you, trying not to over think the pet name he called you. Charles takes the bag from the cashier and you both head out, this time Charles' arm is around your shoulder. You're walking closer to each other now. Closer than before for sure.

“Thank you.” You tell him after a moment of silence, you look up at him and his face is much closer to yours now with his arm around your shoulder. “F-for buying me this, and-and for keeping me company with Arthur being busy.”

“Any time, whenever Arthur is busy just call me I'll always keep you company.” Charles says with a charming smile, reiterating what he said earlier. “Even if you want to take a break from him just tell me."

“I will.” You say with a giggle.

It was another race week and you're invited, Arthur was with his friends in F2, and so you decided to stick with Charles for most of the day. He introduced you to Rebecca and so you sat with her for lunch before KiKa also joined you and soon also Lily came. The girls were super polite they didn't ask you what your relationship with Charles, they all went through fazes of wanting to keep their relationship private, and

not confirming anything. Charles knew what he was doing, he was walking through the paddock to go from one place to the other when he saw the female gathering, he walked up behind you placing his hand on your shoulder. You look up startled before smiling when you see Charles, he greets the ladies. He leans to whisper in your ear.

“Do you need anything?”

“No thank you, don't worry about me.”

“Hard not to.: He says before he gives everyone one last smile and he leaves. The girls all share knowing looks, but keep their thoughts to themselves. It's been a while since Charles has been in a relationship, but they can see the signs.

When Charles finished his duties and heads back to where you are, he stops dead in his tracks. You're talking with Lando, smiling at what he's saying.

"Come on, mate, it's just Lando." Carlos who was walking with his teammate said seeing the look on Charles' face. He's not happy, at all. Why is Lando talking to you? Didn't he know you're with him? What could he be saying that's so funny? Lando isn't that funny. Charles walks up to you and places his hand around your shoulder, Leaving Carlos to go talk to his own girlfriend.

"Hey, I see you met y/n." Charles says with a cold smile.

"Yeah, I was telling her about Quadrent." Lando said, he picked up on Charles' demeanour and it left him confused, Charles is always kind, and easy going. He's never cold or standoffish.

"Why?" Charles asks and you look up at him confused.

"Charlie." You mumble softly, he glances down at you before his eyes settle back on Lando, who looked very uncomfortable at the moment like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "I asked him what he does when he's not racing."

"Hmm, okay, we have to go." Charles says and doesn't leave room for argument before he steers you away from the conversation and Lando.

"That was a bit rude." You mumble to Charles, he sighs and looks at you for a moment.

"I was just trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"Look, stay away from Lando, he was only talking to you because he wants to be with you." Charles tells you with so much assurance, like what he's saying is a fact.

"What? I don't think so." You frown, going over the conversation you just had with the British man, nothing standing out to you.

"Amour, I know Lando, believe me when I say he had anterior motives." You weren't 100% convinced, Charles stopped and turned you to face him, his hands on your shoulders. "Who knows Lando better?" He asked you.

"You do."

"Who knows his history with women?"

"You do.”

"Then believe me, when I say him talking with you wasn't innocent." You nod, believing him. I mean why would he lie to you? There's no reason for him to do that. You trust Charles.

The sun dipped low over Monaco, casting a warm golden glow across the city. You were sitting with Arthur at a cosy café near the harbour, sipping on an iced coffee and catching up on the latest gossip. Arthur was recounting a particularly amusing story from the paddock when you felt a familiar presence approaching.

Charles strolled up to your table, his smile bright and confident. "Hey, Arthur. Y/N," he greeted, his eyes lingering on you. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, pull up a chair." Arthur waved him over.

As Charles sat down, you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze seemed to drink you in. It was intense but not entirely uncomfortable. You smiled shyly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

"So, Y/N." Charles began, leaning forward slightly, "I've been thinking. You've been back in Monaco for a while now, and I haven't really had the chance to take you out properly."

"Oh?" Your heart skipped a beat, is this really happening?

Arthur grinned, sensing what was coming. "Sounds like someone has an idea."

"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me this weekend.” Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Just the two of us. I want to show you around, maybe take you to a nice dinner. What do you say?"

You felt your cheeks flush with excitement. The boy you had once idolized was now a man, standing before you and asking you out on a date. The crush you thought you'd outgrown resurfaced, stronger than ever. You bit your lip, trying to contain your giddiness.

"I'd love to." You replied, your voice almost a whisper.

Charles' smile widened, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Seven it is." You agreed, your heart fluttering.

Arthur chuckled, giving you a playful nudge. "Looks like you have a date."

”Shut up.” You say under your breath fighting the blush that was a permanent fixture on your face. Arthur laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at you.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of conversation and laughter, but you couldn't shake the excitement bubbling inside you. Charles' invitation had lit a spark in you, one that had been dormant for years. You felt a renewed sense of anticipation, eager to see where this evening would lead.

When the weekend arrived, you found yourself nervously preparing for the date. You chose a dress that was elegant yet understated, wanting to strike the perfect balance. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you couldn't help but smile at your reflection. This was it, the night you had been waiting for.

Right on time, Charles arrived at the Leclerc home, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit. He greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes filled with admiration.

"You look stunning." He said, offering his arm.

"Thank you." You replied, feeling the blush return to your cheeks.

As you walked to his Ferrari, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The car roared to life, and soon you were speeding through the streets of Monaco, the city's lights twinkling around you. Charles drove with ease, occasionally glancing over at you with a smile.

He took you to a luxurious restaurant perched on a hill, offering breathtaking views of the city below. The maître d' greeted Charles warmly, leading you to a private table by the window. The ambiance was perfect, soft music, candlelight, and a stunning vista.

Throughout dinner, Charles was the perfect gentleman. He asked about your life in New York, genuinely interested in your stories. You talked about your friends, and the adventures you'd had. In turn, he shared his experiences on the racing tracks, the highs and lows of his career. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

After dinner, Charles suggested a walk along the harbour. The cool night air was refreshing, and the city seemed to glow under the moonlight. As you strolled side by side, you felt a sense of contentment, like everything was falling into place.

Charles stopped by the edge of the water, turning to face you. "I've really enjoyed tonight," he said softly. "It's been wonderful getting to know you again, Y/N."

"I've enjoyed it too." You replied, your heart racing.

"I hope we can do this again. Soon." He took your hand, his touch gentle but firm.

“I'd like that, Charles." You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness.

As he walked you back to his car, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging. Charles opened the door for you, and as you slid into the seat, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special.

The drive back to the Leclerc home was quiet, filled with comfortable silence. When you arrived, Charles walked you to the door, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He said, his voice filled with promise.

"Goodnight, Charles." You replied, your heart full.

As you watched him drive away, you felt a sense of joy and anticipation. The night had been perfect, a dream come true. And as you lay in bed, replaying every moment, you couldn't help but smile.

Waking up the next day you open your phone and find your social media accounts which are private and full of follow requests and DM requests. You’re so confused, before you open Twitter and see pictures of you and Charles last night on a the date everywhere. You groan and lean down in bed closing your eyes.

Charles is happy with himself, those paparazzi he leaked his date info to, did a good job, taking pictures in angles that made it look like you two were kissing at one point, and much closer than you were. Now everyone will know that you’re his. His plan is working, now what he has to do is get you to come stay at his house.

One evening you found yourself at a glamorous cocktail party, filled with drivers and Monaco's high society. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, leaving very little for the imagination. Many eyes looked your way when you passed. And of course, Charles was by your side, his arm firmly around your waist.

As you chatted with one of the drivers from F2, you felt Charles' grip tightening. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. The driver complimented your dress, and you laughed lightly, thanking him, a slight blush covering your face. A blush that has always been meant for Charles only. Before you could continue, Charles interrupted.

"y/n, can I speak with you for a moment?" He said, his voice strained but polite. You excused yourself, following Charles to a quitter corner.

"What's wrong?" You asked, noticing the tension in his posture. Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours, in an interlock that had you shivering.

"I don't like the way he was looking at you."

"He was just being friendly, Charlie, it's a party." You say looking up at him through your lashes, Charles just wants to pull you closer and crash his lips on you in a heated kiss.

His expression darkened further. "Friendly or not, I don’t want anyone looking at you like that."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a chill down your spine. "Charles, you’re overreacting. We’re just talking."

"I don’t care. You’re mine, Y/N.” He leaned in, his face inches from yours. “And I won’t have anyone thinking otherwise."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the intensity in his eyes silenced you. It wasn’t just about protectiveness. There was a dark edge to his possessiveness, something you hadn’t seen before.

“Okay.” YOu agree meekly, Charles kisses your cheek right next to your lips, and smiles oh so sweetly at you, lacing your hands together.

“Come stay with me.” You look up at him, surprised with your eyes wide.

”What?”

“Come stay with me, I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to get back to Marnello.” He looks at you pleading. “Pretty please.”

”Alright, might give Arthur free time to hang out with his other friends.” You say convincing yourself that it’s a good idea, you look at your best friend and see him talking with a woman by the bar. “Or someone else.” You say with a giggle, Charles sees Arthur and smile. Good, if Arthur finds and lady friend then that would give him more time to spend with you, this sis going better than he expected.

You moved in with Charles, you had the spare room. Charles tired to convince you to stay with him, but you wanted things to go slow. But more often than not, you fell asleep on the sofa while watching something together and Charles would put you in bed with him.

Most nights will end with you sipping on a drink he makes for you, always insisting that he just wants to spoil you, after a while you’d start feeling exhausted, and fall asleep.

The next mornings, you’d usually wake up in his bed, with him laying next to you, the times you woke up after him, you’d see him awake and watching you with a deep in thought look on his face, the moment he notice you’re awake he’d smile and press a kiss to your forehead.

"Good morning.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning." You replied groggily, a strange sense of comfort washing over you.

You were browsing through a quaint boutique downtown. Charles had suggested you update your wardrobe, and you were eager to please him. As you moved between the racks of clothing, you found yourself drawn to a beautiful blue sundress. It was light, airy, it’s something you’d usually buy without a second thought.

You held the dress up to yourself, admiring it in the mirror. It was perfect for the warm weather and would look great with the sandals Charles had bought you last week. But as you stood there, a familiar uncertainty crept in. Would Charles like it? Would he think it was appropriate?

You pulled out your phone and took a quick photo of yourself holding the dress. Your fingers hovered over the send button as you debated whether to ask him. The decision felt simple enough, yet you couldn't shake the need for his approval.

Finally, you texted him: "What do you think of this dress? Should I get it?"

You waited anxiously, your heart pounding. Within a few moments, your phone buzzed with his response: "It's pretty, but I think the neckline is a bit too low. How about looking for something else?"

You sighed, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. Charles always knew what was best, you reminded yourself. You put the dress back on the rack and continued browsing, looking for something that fit his description of appropriate.

As you moved through the store, you picked up a simple white blouse and a pair of high-waisted jeans. They were nice, but they didn't make your heart sing like the sundress had. Still, you knew Charles would approve, and that was what mattered most.

Later that evening, you returned home with your purchases. Charles was waiting for you in the living room, his eyes lighting up as you walked in.

"Hey, how did the shopping go?" He asked, standing to greet you.

"It went well." You replied, holding up the blouse and jeans. "I found these. What do you think?"

He inspected the clothes, nodding with approval. "Good choices. They'll look great on you."

His praise filled you with warmth, and you felt a sense of accomplishment.

"Thanks. I'm glad you like them."

He pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead. "I always want you to look your best. You know that, right?"

“I know. Thank you for helping me." You nodded, resting your head against his chest.

As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realised just how much you had come to rely on his guidance. Even for something as simple as picking out a dress, his opinion was the deciding factor. It was comforting, in a way, to know that he was always there to help you make the right choices.

Gradually, your independence faded. Charles' influence seeped into every aspect of your life. You stopped wearing the dresses you loved, opting for the ones he chose. You stopped going out with friends, preferring to stay home with him. Your world narrowed to the confines of his desires, and you didn't even realise it was happening.

Before making any decision, you looked to Charles, waiting for his approval. If he nodded, you felt reassured; if he frowned, you felt anxious. Your happiness hinged on his reactions, your self-worth tied to his validation.

Charles marked you in other ways, too. He began leaving hickeys on your neck, a visible sign of his possession. "I want everyone to know you're mine." He would whisper, his voice both tender and possessive.

You accepted it, feeling a strange sense of pride in his attention. The marks he left were a symbol of his love, and you wore them like badges of honour. When people asked, you smiled and brushed it off.

But it wasn't just protection. Charles' control over you deepened, his possessiveness consuming him. You found yourself agreeing to everything he asked, trusting his judgement over your own. He convinced you that he knew what was best for you, and you believed him.

Charles made sure you stayed close. He monitored your phone, controlled your social interactions, and kept you under his watchful eye. You didn't see it as manipulation; you saw it as love. He was protecting you, caring for you, making sure you were safe.

As the months passed, you lost sight of who you were outside of Charles. Your dreams, your desires, your sense of self, all became secondary to his needs and wishes. You became a shadow of your former self, a puppet dancing to his tune.

But you didn't see it. You were blind to the darkness that had enveloped your life, the possessiveness that had taken root in Charles' heart. You were happy, in a way, content in the illusion of love and security he had created.

Charles had what he wanted: you, completely and utterly his. And you, in your innocence and naivety, believed it was exactly where you were meant to be.

Taglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .

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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

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tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

#m!writes #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

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barcaatthemoon · 2 months ago

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can't get you out of my head || leah williamson x reader ||

leah has a crush on you, the new signing for arsenal.

leah felt like she was losing her mind. every single time that she turned around, you were there. at work, that wasn't much of a surprise. leah knew your work ethic, and that you'd spend extra time in the training facility after everyone else had left. what had come as a surprise, however, was the fact you had gotten an apartment in her building complex.

that wasn't your fault, leah had overheard you talking to kim about the apartment they set you up in. you had been married when talks of moving to arsenal started, so they got you a bigger place. by the time that the contracts were signed and finished, you had begun your divorce proceedings. you had been absolutely devastated that your wife didn't want to come with you to england, but you didn't let it stop you.

unfortunately for leah, once she had heard about your split, her brain decided it could go all in with her crush on you. she had known you for years, the two of you having played in the same age groups for england since both of your first call ups. she could still remember the way she had felt almost heartbroken whenever you announced your engagement to one of the french players you had met during your first season at lyon with lucy.

"morning skip," you greeted leah in the elevator. your apartment was a floor or two above hers, so you were always one of the first people leah saw in the mornings. she didn't mind that, although she would have preferred it if you were waking up in her bed.

"morning (y/n)," leah mumbled, not completely awake yet. the two of you had been called in for a media video, some game that they wanted the two of you specifically to play. you understood why, both of your careers had similar trajectories, just in different countries. you were an english player, but you had become a staple of french club football before you made the jump back to your home country.

the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, which leah was grateful for. she wasn't sure whether or not she could keep her thoughts in order around you this early. it wasn't fair how put together you seemed at all times. leah felt like she was struggling to look and act like a person, and here you were, doing it all so effortlessly.

there were a few more players there for the video, which would showcase the various ways you did a few different drills and training games. you and leah were immediately put on a team together. on the pitch, leah was able to think a bit clearer, and the two of you flew through your games. a few of them were close, but you still managed to keep the lead.

"alright, a few words with our winners," katie said, absolutely loving her role as host. "couldn't have come back a few years ago with those skills, eh?"

"hey, i came when my country called," you joked. "everything happens in its own time."

"it's too early for wisdom. is she always like this leah?" katie asked. leah nodded, a small smile on her face.

"oh yeah, sometimes i think she and bronzey used to just speak to hear themselves," leah teased. you pushed her a bit, but was there to catch her when she nearly just toppled over. katie asked a few more questions, and leah found herself rambling a little whenever she got to talk about you.

"careful, you keep talking about me like that and i might just fall for you," you joked. leah, however, didn't take it as such. she just sort of stopped walking, and it wasn't until you turned around that leah started moving again. "you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," leah said clearly. her next words were mumbled barely above a whisper, but you caught them anyways, "fuck, i am so attracted to you right now."

…

leah had to get away from you. you were driving her absolutely up the wall. it wasn't like you were even doing any of it on purpose, and the worst part was that leah knew that. she knew that it was all in her head. leah was just down bad for you with no signs of getting over it.

you had made a few changes to your look since arriving and getting comfortable at arsenal. the training program had added a few pounds of muscle to your physique, and leah would have been a liar if she didn't wonder sometimes how it would have felt to be tossed around by you. on top of that, you had gone out with some of the girls for a holiday and come back with a couple of piercings. the icing on the cake however, was the tattoo.

leah had seen it purely on accident. she was making her way onto the dance floor to let you know some of them were heading home. your back was turned to her, but leah knew that it was sitll you. she couldn't tell you what the song playing was, but she'd never forget the bed of flowers that was so intricately drawn along the small of your back. there was something trailing up, but leah didn't have time to catch all of it before you turned around.

"hey, everything okay?" you asked as you stumbled off of the dance floor.

"y-yeah," leah stammered. it wasn't like her to do that, so you led her over towards a table to sit. "some of the girls are leaving, just wanted you to know so you didn't panic later. you can go back to dancing if you want, i'm good for another pitcher or two."

"like hell you are, not here. come on, we can keep drinking at my place. i want you somewhat sober for the stairs," you told her. leah thought it was funny how protective and stern you got with her. she'd do absolutely anything for you, even without that tone of voice. leah shook her head as her thoughts started to run rampant. it was always like that whenever she started thinking about you.

"alright then, off we go," leah said as she shot up from the chair. the bar wasn't too far from your apartment complex, but the walk still took it out of you. you had spent all night walking and dancing around in your heels, and all you wanted was to take them off. you thought you were being subtle with your grimaces, but when leah picked you up, you realized that you weren't.

"ah! what are you doing?" you couldn't help the undignified squeal that had left your lips. leah just laughed at it as she tried to reposition you in her arms.

"carrying you. i can set you down and you can ride on my back if you want. should have called a cab, didn't think about your shoes," leah mumbled. you let her set you down before hopping onto her back. it was nice to rest your head against leah's shoulder as she carried you the last two blocks back home. you had almost fallen asleep when leah dropped you in the elevator.

"aren't you gonna come up? i thought you were good for another couple pints," you teased. leah's finger hovered over her apartment floor before moving up to yours. you smiled as you leaned in and wrapped an arm around leah's shoulders. outside of the club, it was obvious that you were far more drunk than leah originally thought.

"i am, but no more for you missy. you're going straight to bed," leah told you. she was using her captain voice. normally, you would have reacted like you did in practice, but instead, leah could see the way it darkened your eyes a bit. she quickly tries to turn away, but your arm around her shoulders keeps her from getting too far.

you manage to get yourself dressed by yourself, and even bring leah out some comfortable clothes to wear as well. it feels like you're waiting forever to watch her walk out in a pair of your sweatpants and a tank top. all of it is a bit baggy on her, but the sight of her in your clothes makes your heart skip a beat.

"why are you looking at me like that?" leah asked as she leaned down in front of you. it's definitely the alcohol that pushes you to do it. you never would have just leaned up and kissed her otherwise, despite the fact that you had been thinking about it since you were at your first england camp with leah. "(y/n)…"

"is it someone else?" you asked, immediately feeling rejected. you want to crawl away and cry, but you know that it's nothing a few more shots won't fix.

"no, not at all. i want this too, i mean it's pathetic sometimes. i can't think straight around you. tonight isn't the right time, not when you're drunk. if you still want me in the morning, let me know. i'll be right here on your couch," leah promised. you smiled at the sweetness of her words. you made some room for her to sit with you, knowing that you wouldn't make it back to your bed. you wanted a good cuddle, and if leah was staying on your couch, you'd stay with her.

leah didn't move a muscle as you passed out barely ten minutes later. she finished her beer and pulled a blanket over the both of you. it wasn't comfortable by any means, but leah couldn't remember when she had slept so soundly before. a part of her was nervous about you waking up and kicking her out, but that was immediately quelled when you woke up with the sun that morning only to pull leah into your bedroom with you just so you could continue to hold her tight.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

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the-californicationist · 10 months ago

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he helps you study

After agreeing to let him use you whenever he wants, Captain Price fucks you freely while you’re studying, making you read your chapter out loud.

Warning: Free use, prior explicit consent, domination

Two more chapters and you’d finally be done. This statistics class was killing you, and going back to school after having already been in the workforce for so long had made it even harder. There were discussion questions due tomorrow, and you needed to finish them tonight.

You heard the door to your bedroom creak open, and John’s heavy footsteps padded on the carpet.

Glancing over your shoulder, you gave him a half-smile,

“Hey, honey. I’m not finished yet, but I’ll be there soon. I know you wanted to watch a movie. I’m sorry I -”

You felt his hands pull your pajama shorts and underwear down to your thighs in one, rough movement.

“Hey! I don’t have time for this. What are you -”

“Read. Your. Book,” his voice was so close to your ear, and the way he bullied you with the weight of his body on your back made your breath catch in your throat.

You heard the tell-tale jingle of his belt buckle. Then the zipper. Turning your attention back to the book was impossible. He noticed your distracted look and sank a fingertip into your pussy, playing gently at your entrance, convincing it to swell, anticipating his cock.

“I told you to read, sweetheart. Out loud.”

You swallowed, trying to find your place on the page,

“Chapter 12. Misuse of statistics can produce subtle but serious errors in description and interpretation…“

You felt his weight crush the mattress. Your captain was situated behind you. He spread your legs open and pulled your hips back, lifting your ass up in the air. The cool air of the room rushed over your exposed flesh. You felt his mouth begin to lick your folds, not for your pleasure but for his.

“…subtle in the sense that even experienced professionals make such errors…oh, shit, John,” you cried out from the feel of his tongue as it laved through your folds.

He stopped eating you, and you felt him lean forward. Then, his cockhead was prodding at your hole. He was wetting it with your own fluids, using his dick like a paintbrush before pushing forward into your tight, unprepared walls.

“Ahh, honey, wait!” You tried to slow him down, looking back at him.

What you saw when you turned around was a warning. You had agreed to free use after he had asked you for it, and he had warned you about his rules. He would take you, whenever, wherever, and however he wanted, and you were not to complain. You had to use the safe word.

You didn’t use it, squeezing your eyes shut in a pleasurable kind of pain, returning to your book,

“…and serious in the sense that they can lead to devastating decision errors. For instance,” you had to stop again.

You couldn’t continue. His cock felt too damn good. You were moaning, feeling yourself being stretched out by your captain, experiencing a sudden flood of wetness as your body attempted to accommodate its favorite guest.

“For instance, what, pretty girl?” He asked cruelly, fitting the tip of his thumb into your asshole as he pounded himself forward, slamming his weight into you, stretching both of your holes.

You were struggling to concentrate, and the words came out in strained, staccatoed bursts,

“For instance, social policy, medical practice, and the reliability of structures like bridges all rely on the proper use of statistics…”

John fucked you faster, shaking the bed, grunting and moaning without shame, gripping onto your hips fiercely and without mercy. You could feel how impossibly hard he was. His thickness overwhelmed you even with lube and plenty of foreplay. Like this, raw and sudden, it was enough to make you drunk on his lustful work.

“Keep reading, love. This tight little cunt is gonna make me come,” he growled low and tense through his clenched jaw, using his thumb to push deeper into your sensitive ass.

“Even when statistical techniques…” you whispered, incapable of projecting your voice without it turning into a wanton moan.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Good girl,” he took his thumb away in order to play with your rigid clit. It sent sparks through you, making you clench down around him. He groaned louder.

You tried to read, not wanting to displease your captain, trying to be a good girl, just for him. Whatever he wanted, you were eager to give it.

“…are correctly applied…”

“God fuckin’ damnit! That’s what I want, love. Come for me. Squeeze this cock for me. That’s it. That’s it, babe,” John leaned forward, his chest pressing down on your back, fucking you like a hound, his other hand grasping the sheets as he tried to hold his full weight off of you.

He knew exactly how you liked your pussy to be played with. His hands were huge, and his long fingers could apply the most delicious pressure against your swollen folds, making your legs tremble and shake.

“…the results can be difficult…”

You couldn’t breathe. You came so hard that you saw stars, keeping yourself from moaning to give him the obedience he was craving. He screamed loud enough for the both of you, pumping harder and harder into you like a steel piston, spilling inside of you in hot, thick ropes.

“…to interpret.”

You were both panting, ragged and well-used. He pulled himself out of you as slowly as he could, setting your legs back down, and leaving you on the bed, wet and soaking in his come. You heard his belt buckle clinking again, being fastened by its panting owner. He pulled your panties back up, making sure to scoop his escaped come back into the fabric so it would smear against your lips. Then, your shorts, positioned on your waist with care.

Closing the door to the bedroom, John left you there, holding your textbook, shaking like a leaf.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price smut #john price smut #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

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jjkamochoso · 4 months ago

Text

JJK Men When You’re on Your Period

Fluff

JJK men x f! or uterus owning reader (no pronouns used)

This was a request from a Wattpad user but I hope you all enjoy it here as well :)

Warnings: mentions of blood

Note: some scenarios you're dating, some you aren't, but all have romantic/caring undertones!

Yuji:

You texted Yuji, devastated that your date plans were now ruined by the onslaught of your period. You were dealing with cramps that were far too painful to allow you to go anywhere and enjoy yourself so you opted to stay home, rescheduling for another time. Of course, Yuji came over immediately, your faithful boyfriend not wanting you to suffer alone.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you, babe?"

Yuji was staring at you with those big puppy dog eyes you adored and for a split second, all the pain you were feeling from your cramps seized.

"I'm sure," you said, squeezing out a small smile while trying not to groan at the discomfort that came back, "but thank you anyway. I really appreciate you asking."

"I just hate to see you in pain like this every month."

Now he was frowning. You were about to tell him not to worry about it, as it was something you just got accustomed to over the years, but his face lit up and you knew he had a great idea cross his mind.

"How about I make some snacks and we can watch movies all night! I know that always makes me feel better!"

You couldn't help but giggle at his determination, grateful for such a sweet boyfriend.

Megumi:

"What's wrong? Your sparring hasn't been very good all day."

Megumi never minced his words and while you usually loved his brutal honesty, today was the one day where you really took what he said to heart. Trying not to cry from frustration, you silently grabbed your bag, eager to leave the training area before you would burst into tears.

"Y/n, wait, I'm sorry," Megumi said, not wanting you to leave, "I didn't mean to make you upset-"

"I'm on my period, everything hurts, and I just want to lay down," you pleaded.

Megumi's eyes widened before settling back into his neutral expression. "Go get some rest, I'll make you tea. Do you have painkillers and a heating pad?"

You knit your eyebrows in confusion. "I do, and thank you for asking, but... how do you know about all of that stuff?"

"Tsumiki," he said, bashfully rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "I used to help her during her... time of the month."

You pulled Megumi into a bone crushing hug, catching him off guard at first before he melted into your embrace.

"She was extremely lucky to have you around," you murmured into his hair, "as am I."

Yuta:

The ever perceptive boy he was, Yuta noticed you were acting off all day but he didn't know how to approach the subject because a) he's so awkward with his words around you, and b) he didn't want to make you any more upset than you already were. However, he wasn't going to watch you struggle by yourself without at least offering some semblance of help so he swallowed his fear and greeted you as you tore through the cabinets of the common kitchen.

"Can I help you find something?" he asked, sporting a kind smile.

"I could've sworn I had a whole stash of chocolate bars in here somewhere," you muttered.

"Oh, those? I think I saw Gojo sensei eating them last week."

You froze. "What?"

Yuta suddenly felt scared as he saw your face darken. "Y-yeah, he has a sweet tooth, a-and, you know, I didn't know who they belonged to or else I would've told you-"

"It's not your fault, Yuta, don't worry about it. Thanks for telling me."

He watched as you began to get up from the ground, your expression contorting into a grimace. He hurried over to you to help you stand, lifting you by your hand.

"Are you alright? I've noticed you haven't been yourself all day and I didn't want to be rude by asking, but now it looks like you're in pain and I'm worried."

Yuta and his word vomit made you smile for the first time in nearly a week. "You're always so sweet. Yes, I'm alright, I'm on my period and I've had some pretty bad cramps."

He nodded in understanding. "That explains the chocolate. I know where Toge keeps a stash of his own if you want me to show you!"

"I would love that," you said, bringing him into a hug that left him a blushing mess.

Inumaki:

You were currently sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through your phone and wishing the throbbing discomfort from your period would stop, even if for only a moment. You were pulled from your mindless social media swiping by a knock at your door.

"Come in!"

Toge entered your room, multiple bags hanging from his arms that he unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Out tumbled a barrage of snacks, both sweet and salty. He also brought over a video game console that he, thankfully, had put down earlier before throwing everything on the ground.

"Tuna tuna!" he chirped happily.

"It looks like you're moving in," you replied, laughing, "but seriously, thank you for coming over. You always make me feel better."

You saw his eyes crinkle with joy, meaning underneath his collar, he was smiling as well. All of a sudden you were hit with a wave of pain and you grabbed onto your stomach, taking in a sharp breath. Toge was quick to hold your hand and lead you to the couch, also grabbing your heating pad and a blanket so you could get comfortable. He then placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before typing a message on his phone.

Don't worry, kitten whiskers, daddy's here to take care of you.

Shaking your head, you replied, "You are such a weirdo."

He grinned mischievously. But you love me anyway.

"Unfortunately."

Noritoshi:

"Hey, you left your book in my room so I brought it back-woah, what happened in here?"

When you were on your period, you found it difficult to stay on top of your daily chores, thus the reason why your room looked like a disaster and why Noritoshi was very concerned for your wellbeing.

"Ugh, I'm sorry for the mess," you said, sitting up with a groan. You had a bad headache and no energy to clean up the piles of clothes and other discarded items. "I'm on my period and just have no motivation whatsoever."

"I see," he replied. "Don't worry. You get some rest and I'll help clean up a bit if that's alright."

"Are you sure? I know you're probably really busy."

"I'm never too busy for you, y/n."

You felt your face warm as he gave you a small smile and began working: folding clean clothes neatly, throwing away trash, putting items back on shelves. In no time, your room was as spotless as the day you moved in--or more so.

"If there's anything else I can do to help, please, text or call me. I won't hesitate to come back over," he said earnestly.

"Thank you so much for doing that, it means a lot to me," you told him.

"It's the least I could do. I'll see you around," he said from the threshold.

He paused.

"Do you like tea?" he suddenly called from over his shoulder.

"I do."

He hummed in acknowledgment and closed the door behind him.

A half hour later, there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, there was no one there, but you were greeted with a to go cup and a note written in the most beautiful handwriting.

My family's special tea remedy. I hope this helps with any pain. Feel better soon.

K.N.

Todo:

You were out shopping with your boyfriend Aoi when you felt a strange sensation wash over you, looking off into the distance akin to Alice from Twilight when she got struck by visions. In a flash, you were shouting apologies to Aoi while running to the bathroom. Luckily, you had somehow made it to the toilet before your period had fully begun, your keen senses saving your outfit. However, you didn't have any menstrual products with you. You sat in the stall for a long while, going over your choices in this situation. You could try waiting for someone to come in, ask them for a pad or tampon, but it was a quiet area and you didn't foresee a whole ton of people coming in. You could also do the famous "toilet paper pad" but those were never reliable and usually led to an even bigger mess. You sighed, reaching for your phone. Your boyfriend was going to have to come to your rescue.

You: sorry I just started my period and don't have anything with me

You: could you pls buy me some pads/tampons? <3

Todolly Hot bf: OF COURSE BABY JUST HANG TIGHT

Todolly Hot bf: :D

Not even 5 minutes later, you got another text.

Todolly Hot bf: ILL BE RIGHT THERE

You heard Aoi's loud voice boom from outside the bathroom.

"Y/n! I'm coming in!"

You first saw his hair peeking over the top of the stall, then you were greeted with the sound of a plethora of products as he shuffled through his bag, eagerly telling you what he bought.

"I got regular, maxi, super maxi, long regular with wings, super extra long maxi with extra long wings..."

As he continued on in the background, you smiled at how lucky you were to have such a doting partner.

Ino:

You felt bad for turning down Ino's invitation to go out, but you just weren't in the mood to be in public right now. Your period was making everything a hassle and you wanted to just relax at home. To no one's surprise, Ino showed up at your door in hopes of making you feel a little better. What did surprise you, though, was the huge basket of goodies he was currently holding.

"I got you a little something," he said, his boyish grin on full display.

"That's like, 10 things more than a little, Ino," you said with a laugh.

"I felt bad because I don't know exactly what you're going through but I do know what it's like to feel down so I hope this can kinda help with that at least."

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, baby. You really know how to make me feel special."

Ino became meek, blushing at your affection, before an excited look took over his face. "Babe! You have to see this right now."

He thrust something soft into your grasp.

"It's a shark plushie! You know, 'cuz the whole shark... week... thing..."

You could tell Ino was rethinking that sentence as it came out of his mouth but even though it was cheesy, you still loved the gift and the thought that went behind it.

Gojo:

"Satoru, I love you, but if you don't be quiet right now I will literally smother you."

"Huh? You usually love the sound of my perfectly on key voice."

You boyfriend was busy singing badly to a song on his phone and you, thanks to your period, had a raging headache, making your patience as thin as a credit card.

"While true, I'm not on my period those other days."

"Thankfully."

That earned him a smack on the arm. "I'm going to sit on the couch. My cordless heat pad broke and that's the only place the other one's cord will reach."

You gave him a kiss and set off for the family room, leaving him alone. He didn't really know how to take care of someone, but he had his own love language that you learned, over time, was how he showed he cared: gift giving.

Immediately, Satoru got on his phone and bought the nicest, most expensive cordless heat pad the market had to offer, scheduled to be delivered at his door step in less than 3 hours. Feeling bad for unknowingly annoying you, he researched things that could help with period pains so he could make it up to you. He quickly made his way to you and stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles, all while giving you a smirk that spelled trouble.

"Get comfy, baby. I'm giving you a massage."

Geto:

"Talk to me, my love. What's going on?"

You had woken up feeling horrible, your period wreaking havoc on your body. Your stomach was the next thing to betray you and now you were locked in the bathroom, crying because of how horrible you felt. You knew Suguru would be worried for you, but you found it hard to find the words to describe the hell you were in at that moment.

"Darling?"

"Sorry, Suguru, I just don't feel good at all. My period is really messing with me," you managed to sputter out in between tears.

"Oh honey," his soft voice soothed through the closed door, "I'm sorry. Let me help you. I'll get your heating pad ready and some water for pain medicine, okay?"

When you were finished in the bathroom, you saw that your boyfriend had made an oasis in your bedroom. The curtains were drawn, the lights were low, relaxing music was playing in the background, your heating pad was set up with a glass of water and a cup of tea on your nightstand.

"I'll draw you a bath later," he purred, taking a hold of your hand and walking you to your bed. He smoothed the hair away from your forehead as you laid back down, giving you a sweet kiss on the exposed skin.

"Rest well, my love."

Nanami:

"L/n, are you feeling okay? Forgive my bluntness, but you look distressed."

And distressed you were. You were on the worst day of your period, your flow giving you unending problems like nausea and pain, and of course this had to happen while you were working. You didn't want to make Kento uncomfortable by telling him your personal details, but you knew he wouldn't be satisfied without a real answer.

"I'm on my period," you confessed, sparing him the details.

"Oh, I see."

Silence.

He spoke up again. "If I may, would you allow me to cook you dinner tonight? You'll need some rest after the work day is finished. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

Naturally, you accepted, and that's why Kento was in your kitchen that evening, filling your apartment with the most mouthwatering aromas.

"I made chicken with a sauce featuring ginger and turmeric, along with sides of spinach and quinoa," he explained, serving you. "There's plenty of iron, protein, and anti inflammatory properties in this dish, all of which should help you during this time of the month."

When he placed your plate in front of you, you gently grasped his hand before it left your reach. "Thank you. For all of this."

He had a look of surprise that melted into a tender gaze. "Of course. I'm always here for you."

Choso:

You were struggling for your life on your couch. Okay, not really, but it felt like one wrong move and you'd bleed out for good. Being on your period was never fun, but having an attentive boyfriend certainly was.

"Y/n? More tea?"

"Can I get you a heating pad?"

"Which blanket would you like?"

"Would you like a massage?"

"I made cookies!"

These were all things that your boyfriend Choso had been saying to you all day, and you couldn't lie, you enjoyed being taken care of like that. Right now you were indulging in the double chocolate cookies he had just baked while he sat with his legs criss crossed on the ground in front of you.

"How are they? Are they baked enough? Too overdone? Not chocolatey enough?"

"Choso," you laughed, ruffling his hair, "it's delicious. Everything you've done for me today has been beyond perfect. I can't believe how lucky I am to have you as a boyfriend."

He smiled. "I just want to help. Since I can't take away your pain, I want to lessen it in any way I can."

Toji:

Waking up after a night at your boyfriend's house was always a pleasant experience for you, and this morning was no different.

Until you noticed a very unpleasant sticky feeling beneath you.

You gasped as you saw your worst nightmare come true--you had started your period and bled all over yourself and Toji's bed. You heard clattering from the kitchen meaning Toji wasn't in the bathroom so you ran in there as fast as you could, slamming the door behind you.

"You alright in there?" Toji asked.

"Umm... not really," you admitted, ripping open his bathroom cabinet to search for a pad or tampon. "Don't go in your room, okay?"

"Eh? Why?"

Your face burned with embarrassment. "I... started my period and ruined your sheets. I promise I'll clean it all, I just need a second."

You groaned. His cabinets were practically bare, save for the minimal amounts of his own hygiene products.

"You know what I do for a living, right? A little bit of blood isn't gonna scare me off, sweetheart. Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it. You just get cleaned up."

"Thanks Toji. You don't happen to have pads or tampons, do you?"

"Uhh... I have rags?"

You rolled your eyes. "This isn't the 1800s, that's not gonna work."

"Right. Tell me what you need, I'm going to the store."

#jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki toge x reader #noritoshi x reader #aoi todo x reader #ino takuma x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader

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229zmi · 8 months ago

Text

BLIND DATE

Kuroo Tetsurō/Reader | 1.1k words, fluff, reader is a little clueless at first, based off of this tiktok

“I’m sorry, what? Could you— sorry, could you repeat that?”

At the sound of Kuroo’s cackles echoing throughout the study room (that you had booked for yourself, and then he decided to invade it after spotting you through the window), you shake your head, feeling the regret creep up your neck like smoke rising from flames. Still, he continues to offer half-assed apologies in between abrupt laughs, as if that’ll soothe your embarrassment in any way.

“You heard me the first time.” You scowl when he opens his mouth to deny it, feigning cluelessness with a dumbfounded look on his face. “And your sense of humour sucks by the way. It wasn’t that funny.”

“But it is. You really want me, out of all the people, to set you up with someone?” He grins, twirling a pen around his fingers. Inwardly, you wish for the pen to suddenly fly out of control, for him to finally have a moment of failure that will eventually spiral into his downfall in the hopefully near future (a few seconds from now), but it never happens.

“Just one date,” you say, with venom preemptively hanging from the tip of your tongue in case you need to further defend yourself.

However, he surprises you when all he does is lean back in his chair instead of bursting into a fit of laughter again. His eyebrows furrow in thought, and the pen stills in his hand; he sets it down atop his notebook.

“I know someone who has a small crush on you,” he tells you after a beat. You straighten at the newfound information, suddenly interested.

“Really? Are they a friend of yours? Who is it?”

Kuroo — that bastard — shakes his head, now sporting a smug smile as he crosses his arms. “That’s classified information, I’m afraid.”

You groan. “You can’t just say that and not tell me who it is! C’mon, can you at least give me a hint?”

“Sure. What kind of hint?”

Your question hurtles toward him at lightning speed, only half-joking. “Are they rich?”

Waving his finger disapprovingly, he reprimands you, “Such a shallow question. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Yeah, well, are they?”

“Can’t say he is. He’s a college student, same university and year as us,” he says, and you act devastated over the news, slapping a dramatic hand over your chest. It’s too bad your dreams of becoming someone’s sugar baby have been crushed so tragically like this, though you suppose there are other important factors to consider as well.

“Is he—?”

“Hey, you said a hint, not multiple hints.”

“Oh, shut it. Is he hot?”

“Very,” he confirms, so quickly that it’s almost suspicious. You eye him warily, to which he shrugs. “What? Birds of a feather flock together, or something like that.”

“Yeah, okay. So he’s butt-ugly, then, by association with you.” At that, Kuroo kicks your knee as you snicker to yourself.

“You know that by saying that, you’re also calling yourself butt-ugly. Plus, I’m doing you a grand favour, and this is what I get in return?” A long sigh escapes him. “Absolutely nothing but insults. Unbelievable.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“Nothing but insults,” he repeats.

You roll your eyes. There’s no winning with him. “Fine, then. I’ll lend you my old statistics textbook. You’re taking Intro to Stats next semester, right?”

“Yup.” He smiles, and you know you’ve got yourself a deal. “I’ll text you the location and time as soon as possible.”

Disappointingly enough, your date is late.

Kuroo, however, is right on time.

You narrow your eyes at him, glancing at the outfit he’s got on. You’re used to him wearing sweatpants and hoodies with holes in the sleeves every time you see him, but today, he’s put something unusually nice on, although you’re not entirely sure why. You’re also not sure why he’s here, outside of the café and at the exact time he told you your date had agreed to meet you.

“Where’s my date?” you ask before looking around for the umpteenth time to check if he’s arrived yet. However, your movement is stopped when Kuroo gently places a hand under your chin, guiding your focus back to him.

A sly grin reveals itself; his hazel eyes twinkle beneath the glow of the café’s hanging fairy lights.

“Right here. I’m your date.”

You frown, still puzzled. “What? But you said a few days ago, you were gonna set me up with someone who—“

Wait a minute.

Oh, you realise.

Then, you shut your eyes tightly, turning away from him.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice that he doesn’t even attempt to hide, obviously entertained by your actions. He steps to the side to see your face, but you turn away again. “Hey, is my hair really that ugly? I tried combing it down like a gazillion times this morning, I swear.”

“No, just—” You stick your arm out, and Kuroo holds onto it awkwardly, both concerned for you and unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “Pinch me, please. I think I’m dreaming.”

“Oh. You’re not dreaming,” he assures you, opting to instead rest his hands on your shoulders, yet it’s pointless in getting you to look at him. Stubborn as always, he thinks fondly.

“That’s exactly what someone in my dreams would say.”

“Ah, I see. So, I’m the man of your dreams?”

Bingo. Picturing himself doing a victory dance in his head, Kuroo watches you open your eyes to glare at him for his remark. His celebration is short-lived, though, because in a matter of seconds, you’re quick to point out, “You’re blushing.”

Rubbing a hand over his cheek as if to erase the pinkish hue, he denies the observation. “I’m not.”

“You are.” You feel all giddy inside, with your heart feeling like it’s about to leap out of your chest, walk inside the café, and buy a cup of coffee. You’re worried a gooey mess of feelings is what’s going to spill onto the pavement if you so much as speak too quickly, so your question comes out tentative, like a butterfly’s wings fluttering in the wind, “And… you like me?”

That, he cannot deny. But there’s a poor attempt at it anyway. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said a small crush.”

“Really?”

“Really.” A pause. Then, he adds sheepishly, “Well, maybe it’s a little more than that.”

Your expression breaks into a grin at the confession, but before you can tease him any more for the blush that has now spread to the back of his neck, he pulls the door to the café open and uses his free hand to gesture towards the interior, bowing his head slightly.

“For my lovely date,” he says, looking up just to wink at you. Whether this is actually to charm you or just to distract you from his embarrassment, you can’t tell.

Nevertheless, as cheesy as it is, you decide to play along, intertwining your fingers through his and extending your gratitude to him for his chivalrous act before pulling him along as you head inside.

notes: another kuroo fic 4 the Kuroo kissers ♥︎ tumblr user @kyoghurts i hope u like it teehee

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #229ZMI

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brillantradiance · 3 months ago

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What kind of lover Sung Jin Woo would be?

Warning: this post may be a little suggestive some yandere themes if you squint. Unedited.

It would be very subtle. Definitely more through actions rather than words. Since we all know that Jin Woo is very reserved.

Slowburn but when Jin Woo falls he falls hard.

Jin Woo would love deeply. So much so that it utterly consumes him. Reason why: As the story progresses Jin Woo loses more and more of his emotions. However if someone could rekindle that side of him and remind him what it’s like to be human. He’ll be obsessed 100%.

And if you were by his side when he was weak. Congratulations he’ll be even more obsessed. Mostly because chances are he would actually trust you as you were able to respect him and care about him despite him being weak.

That being said, you’ll probably have this perpetual feeling of being watched due to Jin Woo monitoring your actions through his shadows.

overprotective. To the point, where you jokingly stated that he would rather keep you locked up in tower so he could have you all to himself. (Little did you know he has thought about keeping you in his realm on multiple occasions. This thought would occur much more if you were a hunter and continued to go on raids despite him begging you to retire).

Deep down Jin Woo is so afraid of losing you that he can’t help wanting you to be in his presence at all times.

Jin Woo is possessive in nature. He would appear nonchalant but within him a tempest is brewing. During Hunter events he would maintain physical contact always. Usually his hand around your waist surveying the area of any wandering eyes or If they can’t get the hint your obviously taken potential targets.

Jin Woo’s desire to keep you to himself has manifested in multiple ways including smothering you (affectionately) while you sleep. Jin woo is touch starved. Most contact he has with any other living is usually violent in nature. So being able to hold you just completes him. So when he comes home seeing you laying on his bed he can’t help but to hold you close. He tries to be careful knowing well how easy it would be to crush you but sometimes he can’t help it. He brings you close enough that you can hear both of his hearts beat. As Jin Woo relishes in your warmth he drifts off to sleep. He won’t let go and with his vice iron grip good luck getting out of bed in the morning.

Even after finally getting up that morning Jin Woo would be draped over the entire time trying to drag you back to bed. (He doesn’t need the sleep he just wants to spend more time with you).

Hypocritically Jin Woo is a morning bird. He will wake you up so you can accompany him during his morning run.

He loves to provide for you. Whether it be cooking for you. Buying you gifts. Etc.

Intense eye contact. He would stare at you for hours. Maintains it while talking to you as well. He’ll lean closer to you. You’d think to hear you better but he just wants to be closer.

He loves to hold you and kiss you for hours. He’ll kiss you until you’re out of breath. And when you finally breakaway he’ll just follow your lips. And if you can’t handle that he’ll go for your neck. His breath grazing your pulse before planting sloppy open-mouthed kisses. He’ll keep going until your a mess in his arms. That being said….

HE’S A HUGE TEASE. He knows exactly what you like and will make you suffer smirking the entire time. He loves to see you squirm and blush. This includes working out shirtless in your vicinity. He acts all innocent but he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He’s lowkey a brat tamer. Like if you tease him back he’ll enjoy the challenge. Push him to the edge he’ll take great pleasure putting you in your place. Also gives him an excuse to be a little rougher than usual.

Don’t get me wrong Jin Woo is a gentle lover. But he’s definitely holding back this intense beast within him every time he’s with you because he loves you so much and would be devastated if you were to be afraid of him because of that intensity. However, in bed if you were to tell him to let go. That you can take everything he could give and more. Be Prepared.

I think this is my first Jin Woo x Reader. I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you for reading :)

#brspeaks #sung jin woo #solo leveling #solo leveling imagines #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo x reader #yandere sung Jin woo

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ripplestitchskein · 5 months ago

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This is one of my favorite moments from the episode. Like from an art point of view the expression and body language is so on point. If you watch this sequence without sound it tells the story just as effectively as the dialogue, so kudos to them. A+ animation.

However, I’ve seen a few people say it doesn’t make sense for Stolas to react like this because he overheard Stella plotting to kill him. Which, I think that scene was more to highlight Stolas’s obliviousness in general more than him knowing she was trying to kill him? But that’s a separate post. This moment though has very little to do with Stolas’s worry over his personal safety or even the assassination attempt itself. He is not reacting to the reveal that Blitz didn’t warn him about an assassin from a place of “I could have prepared myself better with a warning and known what Stella was plotting earlier”.

He’s reacting to it from a place of “Someone tried to kill me and you didn’t care enough about me to even mention it”. The episode is about how Stolas is interpreting and “learning” that Blitz was showing him all along he didn’t care about him, that Blitz just does this to people, that Stolas is NOT special he’s just another in a crowd of people Blitz fucked and fucked off.

That they conveyed so well how crushing this must have been, to learn the person you love and care for not only knew months ahead of that someone was trying to kill you but you factored so little into their thoughts they just FORGOT to tell you? How he realized that he meant so little in the scheme of Blitz’s life that Blitz couldn’t even be bothered to mention it?

So yeah this isn’t a mistake, this isn’t the writers forgetting Stolas already knew, the issue here is not about the assassination at all, it’s about how Stolas is now interpreting this as “Someone tried to end my life and I meant so little to you I didn’t even warrant a heads up about it”. Like, not to be dramatic but Blitz just basically confessed that he didn’t care about Stolas’s existence at all.

We know it’s because of how Blitz sees Stolas as this untouchable immortal figure on high, but Stolas doesn’t see himself that way. He’s very clear he doesn’t recognize his own power and position.

It goes even deeper than that devastating line of thought though. It casts the whole “Am I in danger?” aspect of Western Energy into a whole different light. We interpret it as him not really believing he is in trouble, just mildly inconvenienced and wanting Blitz to play hero for his romantic fantasies. He is kidnapped by someone he recognizes as being a friend of Blitz’s, he calls him to clarify it, Blitz is then “I can’t save you today, my daughter has a thing”. During this point in the conversation Stolas has no idea Striker is sent to assassinate him persay, he thinks he’s just been kidnapped by a friend of Blitz’s. But Blitz DOES know Striker tried to kill Stolas in the past and is a credible threat. In this scene in Apology Tour Stolas finds out that Blitz knew that from the beginning, that he knew that and still couldn’t be bothered to come and was dismissive of it. That’s what Stolas saw anyway. He didn’t see Blitz driving crazy and turning around. He didn’t see his face of worry or regret. So the only information Stolas has now is “I called you telling you I was kidnapped by a man you knew tried to kill me and you said you were too busy. You knew how dangerous he was and you didn’t even care about me enough to help me.”

I’m sure it was a lot easier to deal with and excuse Blitz not being there and being busy when he assumed Blitzø didn’t know he was in real danger, now Stolas knows the truth. Blitz knew the person he identified as having kidnapped him had tried to murder him in the past and it still wasn’t enough to stir Blitz to save him.

Like that’s so fucking crushing? And important. Like critical really.

Like do the Stolas math of “Let me add up the evidence to interpret his feelings” and in addition to all the times he sneered or turned away add in “He knew a person who kidnapped me had already attempted murder and still didn’t give a shit”.

We know that’s not the whole story, that Blitz was worried and did turn around but Stolas doesn’t. This is the whole pattern of their entire relationship. He never sees when Blitz turns around in any context. He looks at Blitz and SEES him, is rebuffed by Blitz turning away and so Stolas looks away and just as he does Blitz turns back to him. It makes me want to claw my face off. This isn’t about the assassination at all, this is about them missing each other yet again.

In my head I think of it like a trapeze act. They each take the swing, they are flying through the air but they aren’t paying attention, they look away and miss the grab and both are plummeting to the ground.

#stolitz #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #apology tour #helluva boss meta

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sluttyten · 1 month ago

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limited time only

Kinktober Day 2 | Jaemin Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: supernatural creature, semi-public sex, beach sex, nudist jaemin, wax play, grinding, riding, a little play on the myth of Eros and Psyche,

length: 4707

The first day you saw the man come from the sea, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. He came from the water, all golden skin and dripping with glistening saltwater, entirely nude save for the gray folded fabric he carried in one hand.

Typically, in your time living in this coastal town, seeing a naked man walking along the beach is cause for concern. However, when the naked man walking towards you has just emerged from the sea looking like a sea god, it’s a little more difficult to take issue with.

It’s difficult to look away from him — his windswept, damp hair is the color of midnight; his handsome face reminds you of Renaissance artwork; his broad shoulders are just a prelude to the rest of the masterful composition of his body; his waist tapers in, accentuating his toned abdomen, drawing your gaze downward along a fine dark trail of hair….

You tear your gaze away from him, looking back down at the fluttering pages of the book you had been reading up until his magnificent emergence.

God. He’s beautiful.

When you glance up again, he’s no longer in front of you, and you’re a little scared to look at the rest of the beach behind you. If you risk another look at him, you’re worried that you might not be able to tear your gaze away. So instead you do your damnedest to focus on the book you’d been thoroughly enjoying prior to his appearance.

But your mind keeps wandering back to the shape of the man, which stirs heat low in your belly. And then there’s just your simple curiosity — you’ve not seen that man before; is he just a tourist that’s mistaken this beach as a nude beach? Is he just an exhibitionist? What’s his story?

After a while, you give up on making any further progress in your book, and you begin to pack up your things to leave.

A shadow falls over your blanket, and you tilt your head, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the bright sunlight. And you look up and up and up, until finally your eyes settle on the face of the sea man. He’s dressed now, regardless of the state that you’d previously seen him in, and he’s smiling now — a dazzling, charismatic grin that sets your heart racing.

“Hello,” he greets you. His voice is surprisingly deep, yet soft-toned. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw what book you were reading, and I’ve been meaning to pick it up, but I was just wondering if it’s any good? I’ve heard some controversial opinions about it.”

Oh. The ocean god reads and he looks like that? The news is devastating to your quickly developing crush on this man.

It turns out you have more in common with him than just that singular book. For the next few hours, you sit together on your little blanket on the beach and talk, laugh, and you pray that it’s not your imagination that he seems equally as interested in you as you are in him. You learn that he’s not from around here, he’s just visiting for the first time in seven years. He’s an only child. He likes to read, to people-watch, to sing and dance, to take photographs to truly capture the human experience. He laughs when you tell him that sounds like something a really passionate artist would say.

As the sun begins to lower towards the horizon, you realize just how late it’s become. You’ve actually got plans with your friends for dinner that you’ll be late to if you don’t hurry.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to keep you.” He stands up, freeing up your blanket as you’re shoving your things into your bag.

“You’re alright! I just lost track of time. I’ve enjoyed talking with you. Um.” You pause, your blanket wadded up in your hands, and you look up at him. “Actually, I’m sorry. We’ve been talking for hours, and I just realized, I’ve not asked your name.”

He smiles, the warmth of it matching the setting sun behind you. “My name is Jaemin.”

Jaemin, the sea god.

And, because you really like him a lot, you put yourself forward, and you ask him for his number.

“If I had a phone, I definitely would give you my number.” Jaemin looks genuinely apologetic. “But, seeing as I don’t have a phone, we could meet back here tomorrow, same time?”

And that’s good enough for you.

You run off, have dinner with your friends during which you tell them about your mysterious beach man, giggle like you’re all young girls with a crush, and that night you dream of Jaemin.

You wake with his name on your lips, heat racing beneath your skin.

Hours later, you’re again sitting on the beach on your blanket. Again, you’re holding a book, though today you’re so utterly distracted by the prospect of seeing Jaemin again that you can’t focus on a single word on the page. And then you hear a gasp from a woman sitting a short distance away.

There he is.

Jaemin, rising again from the water, again nude.

Luckily, you’d brought a towel along today, and as Jaemin strides up the beach towards you, you toss the towel at him.

“Is this a common thing for you?” You ask as he wraps the towel around his waist. He drops something dark and damp down in the sand beside your blanket before he sinks down to sit with you. This close to him, you find it a little difficult to fully focus. “The… skinny-dipping at a public beach?”

Jaemin smiles, pushes his fingers through his damp hair. “Does it bother you?”

“Not really.” It gives you the opportunity to admire him.

“Alright, then.” Jaemin reaches over, his fingers brushing the backs of your hands. “What are we reading today?”

So again you sit there with Jaemin for hours and hours, talking and occasionally taking a brief trip down into the water to cool off.

Jaemin, despite his manner of arrival earlier, never goes into the water above mid-calf, just content to stand and watch as you wade out into the water. His gaze rushes hungrily over your skin when you walk out of the water towards him — seawater runs in sun-silvered rivulets down your chest and your stomach and your thighs. He never strays far from your beach blanket, keeping it always within sight, which you appreciate him keeping an eye on your things while you’re out in the water.

You stay on the beach all day and into the twilight hour before you make a brief excursion into town to pick up some dinner, some drinks, and then you return back to your blanket where Jaemin is still waiting.

Some time later, in between the drinks, you grow bold enough to lean closer and kiss him. Jaemin, to your absolute delight, eagerly kisses you back. It doesn’t stop there of course. Once you’ve had one taste of kissing this godly man that washed up on your beach, you can’t wait to have more.

You don’t care that you’re in public, out in the open on the beach where anyone can walk by. You pull Jaemin over you – drinks, dinner, books forgotten – and you encourage his hands to wander under the edges of your bikini; your fingers push loose the towel he still wears bound around his hips. The town lies silent behind you while you moan into each other's mouths, touching each other, grinding on the blanket in the sand.

“Jaemin,” you gasp his name as he finally lets his body settle between your hips; his heavy cock rubs forward against your heat. “Jaemin, please, just put it inside me.”

He drops his mouth to your shoulder, teeth nipping lightly as he grinds forward once again, slow and teasing before he just –

“Fuck, right there, Jaemin!” You twist one hand into his hair, the other drags your nails down his back.

His cock is magnificent, feels so perfect inside you.

You hold him close, muffling your moans by biting his shoulder, and he buries his sounds in your hair or against your lips.

You forget that you’re on the beach, fucking out in the open, but even when the crashing of the waves or the sound of a car passing by on the road reaches through your sex-fueled haze, you can’t bring yourself to care that someone might see, might hear.

Jaemin pulls out just before he cums with a low moan of your name. His forehead rests against your chest as he rapidly strokes his cock, striping the blanket between your thighs with his cum. And then he’s lowering himself down, burying his head between your thighs – two fingers pumping inside you, his tongue at your clit – and the vibration of his moans against your clit quickly has your thighs quaking around his ears, your orgasm cresting and crashing over you like the waves battering the shore behind him.

You collapse, a molten puddle of satisfaction in the sand. Your heart races, pulse thundering in your ears.

“I think you need to come home with me,” you pant, trying to recover your breath. You’re halfway joking, but at the same time, you dearly want Jaemin to come back to your place, to tumble you once more in your bed, to wake up beside you in the morning and do this again. “I make a great breakfast, if you’d like to come over, stay the night, and try it in the morning?”

Jaemin lifts himself up, sliding up alongside your body, and he drags one of your thighs up over his hip. “I’d like that,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

So, you pull your bikini back into place. You pack your things back into your bag. Jaemin wraps the towel around his waist again, and it’s only as you start to walk away from the beach into town – you live only a ten minute walk away – that you realize Jaemin is carrying with him that dark fabric that you’d noticed him carrying out of the water with him yesterday and earlier today. You wonder what it is, and if it’s clothing then why is he still wearing only your towel.

You let him rinse off in your shower while you tidy your room – putting away clean laundry you’d left piled on the foot of your bed, kicking dirty clothes out of sight, hiding the embarrassing seal plushie that you’ve slept with since you were seven.

After Jaemin emerges, clean and smelling like your lavender body wash, you take a quick shower – washing sand out of places it certainly doesn’t belong. You can hear Jaemin walking around, the creaking of the floor in your house as he probably looks at your bookshelves, the photographs of your family and friends hung on the walls, your collection of knickknacks.

He’s occupied, so you linger in the bathroom a moment longer to text your friends from the evening before about the details of your day – meeting up again with him, spending all day with him, how he’s a tourist but he’s been here before seven years ago, how he weirdly carries like a wad of gray fabric with him, how you had sex on the beach, and he’s now waiting for you in your bedroom.

You expect them to be excited for you. A few of them respond just as enthusiastically as you’d hoped, but one friend is a spoilsport about the whole thing.

“That’s sorta weird right?” she sends in the groupchat. “Him coming out of the ocean like that, all mysterious and from out of town?”

Is she accusing you or lying, making up a handsome man that sounds like a fantasy?

“What is he a selkie lol” another friend says.

“My grammy used to scare my sisters and I with stories of selkies,” the first one says, “Warning us that selkie men would appear on the beach and steal us away into the sea to drown us and steal our souls.”

“Your grammy was a hippie, babe, I think she tripped a little too hard in the old days and never quite recovered,” one of your friends says in response to that.

You’re still stuck on what she’s talking about. A selkie. What’s a selkie?

You ignore the notifications from the group chat and instead search up ‘selkie,’ uncertain what you’re going to find.

You certainly don’t expect to find your friend accusing Jaemin of being a shapeshifter, but it turns out that’s exactly what a selkie is – a supernatural being that resembles a seal in one form, and upon shedding its skin becomes human. She’s ridiculous for planting such a notion in your head, and when you check back into the groupchat, you find it’s grown even more ridiculous.

Some of them are joking that your sudden silence is because your new selkie boyfriend has taken you out to sea. One of them is jokingly asking if he’s got webbed fingers and toes. And the one who started all of this is actually sending messages like she genuinely believes Jaemin could be a part seal-part human creature.

“If he’s a selkie, he’s got to have his seal skin somewhere nearby. It’s how they transform back. My grammy used to say that they can only come to land every seven years, but if someone hides their seal skin they’ll be forced to stay on land. She said they’re really seductive creatures, which is how they lure poor innocents out into the sea, but it backfires on them because sometimes the one they seduce will be the one to hide their seal skin, and they’re stuck here. She once read a legend that selkies have a mark on their hip like this:” and then she sent a badly scribbled drawing that looks like spirals swirling together.

“You’re so ridiculous. All of you,” you send, “Goodnight.”

You shut your phone off, leave the bathroom, and find Jaemin sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at the seal plushie that you clearly hadn’t hidden well enough.

“This is cute,” he says. “Friend of yours?”

You pluck it quickly from his grasp, tossing it over towards a reading chair you have shoved into the corner of your room by the window. You offer the excuse of, “A childhood memory, that’s all,” before you place yourself in Jaemin’s lap, curl your fingers against the back of his neck, and you press your mouth to his.

Jaemin welcomes the kiss, opening up to let you take control while he tips backwards until he’s lying with his head among your pillows. You make out with him, rolling around in your bed, touching each other again like you’d done on the beach until your sheets are rumpled and the hour is late.

Jaemin falls asleep before you do, his soft snores filling the quiet space between you.

You want to fall asleep, to slip into dreams, but your mind won’t settle. Your thoughts keep turning back to your group chat, your silly friend with her even sillier accusations. And the more you think about it, the more things about Jaemin line up with the things she was saying about selkies.

But the main odd and unexplainable thing that sticks out to you is the thing she said about selkies and their seal skins. Jaemin has that dark gray fabric or whatever that he’s carried with him almost every time you’ve seen him. He had it when he rose out of the sea both times, carrying it with him all the way here.

What if you find it? It’s somewhere in your house. You could just go take a look, see what it is, put aside any silly thoughts you’re beginning to have.

Jaemin shifts a little when you roll away from him, but he doesn’t wake. His eyes are closed, snores still pouring from him. You tiptoe from your bedroom to the front door where he’d dropped the towel as soon as he stepped inside.

You can’t see anything in the dark, and you left your phone back on your bedside table. The next best thing is a candle sitting on your kitchen table. You light it, and by the warm glow, you search the floor. There’s the towel and your abandoned flipflops. It’s only now that you realize Jaemin didn’t even have shoes. He truly came out of the water with nothing but the mysterious dark gray thing.

And you can’t find it. You climb the stairs back towards your bedroom quietly, scanning the shadows of each step to see if maybe it somehow got carried up here. You check the landing and the hall. Finally, you peek into your bathroom.

The mirror above the sink magnifies the light of the flame, making it easier as you check the floor here. There’s your abandoned clothes from before your shower. There’s your towel from after your shower. In the corner behind the door, tucked almost completely out of sight, is the towel you’d handed Jaemin before his shower. It sits crumpled on the floor, covering most of something dark and gray.

You crouch down, pulling the towel away, revealing Jaemin’s only possession.

You touch it.

Whatever it is, it feels like velvet.

You lift it up into the light reflected by the mirror. It’s not any particular shape – not identifiable as a piece of clothing, nor as a blanket or towel. You don’t know what the shape is, and the velvety texture of it combined with the darkness seems to swallow the candlelight, making it even more difficult to make out anything identifiable about it.

Seeing this thing – the potential seal skin of a potential selkie currently sleeping in your bed – hasn’t cleared up anything at all. If anything, you’re even more confused and on-the-fence about your friend’s accusation.

But there’d been that last thing she said.

The mark of a selkie, found on the hip.

You’ve been too swept up in enjoying Jaemin to even notice any marking on his body, but according to your friend and her grammy, that mark would let you identify him.

So, fully aware of how ridiculous you’re being and of how awkward this will be to explain, you pick up the candle and head back to your bedroom.

Jaemin is still asleep on his back, one arm thrown above his head, the sheets pool around his abdomen. You hold your breath while you look at him.

He’s beautiful.

Just looking at him right now you want to jump his bones, pull away the sheet to touch him, get him hard, and ride him.

You think again of what your friend sent in the groupchat earlier, how she said that selkies apparently have great powers of seduction. Is Jaemin exuding some supernatural selkie power of seduction, or are you just really horny for the hot naked guy in your bed?

You come to stand on his side of the bed, and you lean over him, reaching out to nudge away the sheet, searching his bare skin for any sign of any weird marks. All you can see as you slowly drag the sheet down are the marks you’ve unintentionally left on him – hickeys, marks from your fingernails – and more normal things like freckles, hairs, moles arranged like constellations.

Oh.

A spiral-shaped constellation of moles low on his pelvis.

You gasp, tilting the candle to get a better look.

Hot wax spills, pouring over the edge of the candle, landing on Jaemin’s stomach.

His eyes flash open, and in an instant he’s sitting upright. One of his hands has a vice grip on your wrist holding up the candle. His other hand has shot right to your throat, dragging you over him so you’re perched in his lap.

“Jaemin–”

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice devoid of the sweet charisma. “What have you done?”

You can’t speak. All the signs are pointing to one truth: Jaemin is a selkie.

“Are you–” You squirm, struggling beneath his powerful hands. “Jaemin, this mark… Are you a….”

Jaemin’s hand loosens on your throat, but he keeps a tight grip on your wrist supporting the candle. “Am I what?”

How can you ask him this? If you’re wrong, he’s going to think you’re crazy. But what if you’re right? What then?

Sitting on his lap like this, you can feel his cock beneath you. A bit of candle wax dribbles over the lip of the candle again as your hand wobbles, and from the corner of your eye you watch it trickle down Jaemin’s knuckles. His eyes flare in the dark, his jaw tenses.

“You have to say it,” Jaemin challenges you, “Use your words.”

“Jaemin,” you pause, mustering up the courage or stupidity to speak the next words aloud: “Are you a selkie?”

The fact that you actually asked seems to catch him off-guard. Jaemin’s hold on you falters, just for a moment, but it’s enough to give you the freedom that you manage to break your wrist free, and with your other hand you shove his chest so he’s lying flat beneath you again.

Again, the candle wobbles in your grip.

Another couple drops splatter against Jaemin’s chest. He hisses, but the way his eyes flash and the way his cock twitches beneath you tells you that the sound doesn’t necessarily come from pain.

Jaemin lies still, his eyes fixed on the dancing flame in your hand.

“What are you going to do to me if I tell you that you’re right?” Jaemin asks. “Who are you going to tell?”

“Why would I tell anyone?” You reply. “And if I did, who would believe me?”

You barely even understand what it means to be a selkie. You’re not likely to go blabbering about it to anyone. The only person who would possibly believe you or know what you’re really talking about would be your one friend.

Again, a couple drops of wax escape the candle and meet Jaemin’s bare chest, dangerously close to a nipple.

This time his hips rock off the bed, bucking up between your legs. “Shit, are you going to keep doing that?”

“It depends, do you like it?” You sit down on him, rolling your hips slowly. “Because it seems to me like you do.”

“Can’t we focus on one thing at a time here?” Jaemin groans, his hands flying to your hips as you keep moving. “I thought you were trying to confront me about being a selkie? Or do you want to have sex again, incorporating a little wax play?”

Both? Maybe one should take priority over the other at the moment.

Jaemin’s hips rock up again, and your mind is made up.

There’s only a thin sheet between your pussy and his cock, and it takes only a simple twitch of your hand to move it out of the way. As you move, shifting around to be in the proper position above him, you tilt the candle, watching as wax spills over and paints itself on Jaemin’s skin.

He moans. His nipples are hard, and he watches you with dark lust-filled eyes, full of want. “You’re going to play with me, tease me? After I treated you so well earlier?”

You lower your hips, dragging your pussy along his hard length as you pour a thin line of wax from his sternum down towards his belly button. “Relax, Jaemin. Just enjoy the pain a little.”

His eyelashes flutter, caught between the pleasure as you circle your clit against the head of his cock, and the pain as you dribble a little more wax on his skin. But he clearly loves it: cock twitching, bottom lip pinched between his teeth, his fingers curling against your hips without any urgency to the touch.

You could just keep teasing like this, grinding on him, pouring wax on his sensitive skin. But you don’t want to leave yourself hanging. You want some of the pleasure too.

Jaemin moans in tandem with you as you lean forward, roll your hips down against him, and then push back onto his hard length. As the warmth of your pussy envelops Jaemin’s cock, you brush away some of the dried candle wax on his chest and you lower your mouth to his nipple, flicking your tongue over the hard bud.

Jaemin moves to seek his own pleasure, hips rocking off the bed to bury his cock inside of you while you mouth at his chest, while you let a few more drops of wax speckle his chest, drawing shapes now. He keeps forcing whines and moans, gasps of his name from your lips with each deep press of his cock inside you. And you’re drawing quite the sound collection from him as well, including one sound that you swear sounds like the grunt of a seal, reminding you startlingly in that moment of Jaemin’s identity.

You sit up on him, pressing your hand down against his abdomen, forcing Jaemin to still his movements.

He looks up at you, burning with arousal. But he waits.

“About you being a selkie” you tell him, “I don’t care what you are as long as you’re mine.”

“I belong to the sea,” he tells you. “I can only come to land a few months every seven years. I don’t know that I can be yours, and I don’t think it would be fair to ask you to wait for me.”

You slide your hand up his chest, knocking aside chips of cooled wax. “For now, let’s just make the most of what time we’ve got.” You’ll figure the rest out later.

The candle in your other hand is flickering, the flame going out. Jaemin watches as you lean over him, as you slide the candle onto the bedside table, and as you lean over his face, he lifts his head and captures one of your nipples with his lips. He licks, sucks, and nips at the sensitive peak until your pussy is throbbing with need and you can no longer just sit here on his cock.

You push at his chest until Jaemin falls away, his head once more against your pillows, and he smiles up at you, dazzling and charming again while you sit above him.

You let go of everything, choosing in that moment to focus only on what feels good.

You fuck yourself on Jaemin’s cock, leaning back with your hands braced on his thighs as you bounce. He snakes a hand up between your thighs, fingers on your clit. Your thighs twitch, moans spilling from your lips, and you feel powerful as you take what you want, as Jaemin gives it all to you. His hips rise from the bed, lifting to meet your thrusts, your bodies move in tandem, each of you seeking the height of pleasure.

You thrust down, and the angle of Jaemin’s cock inside you presses against your G-spot right as he pinches your clit between his fingers.

Your orgasm sets you adrift, untethered as your body moves on autopilot, chasing the high higher and higher.

Jaemin sits up, sealing his mouth over yours, rolling your beneath him, and he fucks into you hard, fast, out of rhythm as his climax takes over too, and he cums buried inside you, passing his moans directly to your tongue.

You must pass out, slipping into unconsciousness just like that with Jaemin’s body covering yours inside and out, pressed together inseparably.

When you wake what feels like hours later to the sunrise painting the sky a hundred different shades of pink, Jaemin still sleeps with his face tucked against your shoulder, his arms around you, cock soft but still pressed into the mess between your thighs. When you shift to rearrange a little, Jaemin’s arms hold you tighter still. He sighs, eyebrows furrowing a little.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles sleepily. “I want to hold you for as long as I can.”

You settle in comfortably to the warm security of his arms, content to stay like this with Jaemin for however long you can have.

a/n: day 2 completed! when i started working with a few different prompts and they combined to spell out that I should write mermaid Jaemin with candle wax play I really wasn't sure where this was going to go, but then I started thinking about Eros and Psyche and her dripping hot oil/candle wax on him, and I thought about a book I read as a kid about selkies, and I decided yep that's it, that's the one

I hope you've enjoyed this one, and I look forward to all of you sticking around for the rest of this month's kinktober fics!

Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#jaemin #nct #nct dream #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months ago

Text

Dave Lizewski x best friend fem!reader

Summary: Dave is devastated by your supposed crush on his alter-ego, Kick-Ass.

Genre: hurt and comfort, fluff

Warnings: jealous!Dave, swearing, not explicitly consensual kissing (both of them are okay with it however!), blood

~ thank you for requesting, anon!! this was a very cute idea!~

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

The comic store was more crowded than usual that afternoon. You, Todd, Marty, and Dave had squeezed into your usual booth, with you and Dave squished shoulder to shoulder as he rambles on and on as you stare at the small TV in the corner which is playing more news coverage about Kick-Ass. Your cheeks feel significantly warmer.

"She's drooling again," Marty quips, and all three boys turn and look at you with interest.

"Who knew girls were so horny," Todd comments with a smirk and sucks his milkshake obnoxiously.

Dave, unlike the other two, looks positively flustered as he watches you. His eyes land on the screen and then on yours.

"Hm, doesn't the suit look good on him," you hum and sigh, turning to your friends with a serious expression. "Do'you think he's young? He looks young."

"Looks around our age, so I suppose that means you're free to bone him, Y/n." Todd shrugs.

That makes Dave blush crimson.

You slap Todd's arm from across the table. "Shut up."

"We all know you want to," Marty adds and sips his milkshake like he knows something. You chew on your lip, subconsciously leaning into Dave as you turn back to look at the TV and let out an amused sigh as your eyes stay glued onto the screen.

This isn't the first time you're pining over Kick-Ass. You've been doing it for a while now and it makes Dave blush every damn time. Some part of him feels like an asshole for feeling that way about you considering you aren't drooling over him. Not over Dave, your best friend.

No, you're drooling over a superhero who is completely different from himself. His alter-ego, someone who is undeniably so much better than him.

How can Dave Lizes ever compete with Kick-Ass?

Todd kicks him in the shin but you're too entranced to sense the tension.

"What?" Dave mouths and his cheeks flame crimson when Todd points between you and him and makes obnoxious kissing noises. Dave sends his friends a frown and shushes them with a shake of his head. Luckily for him, you aren't paying any attention as you watch the screen, your mind focused on only one thing.

How does Kick-Ass look so damn good in that stupid costume?

* * *

Sirens go off as Dave limps away, blood staining his lip. He's not badly hurt, just a little shaken up. It isn't like he could feel much of the pain anyway. He sniffs and wipes a hand under his lip, groaning. The air is cold and the night is cloudy. He's been so preoccupied by you that he's been shit at his job—or worse than usual.

Dave prepares to walk home when he hears a small sniffle from behind a tree in the park he's walking by. He frowns,something stirring in his chest as if pulling him toward the sound.

Someone could be hurt.

He forces some bravado as he rounds the park gate and approaches the tree, the sniffling becoming louder.

His body stiffens when he sees you huddled behind a dress, wearing that dress you'd shown him a thousand pictures of. Realization dawns on him. Corey Addams. You did have a date with him tonight.

That dickhead.

"What are you doing here?" The question comes out weirdly interrogating as Dave's voice lowers in an attempt to have him be unrecognizable to you and you jump, looking up as you frantically paw at your teary cheeks.

Dave feels like a jerk as he watches your face morph into one of panic and he kneels down, now panicked in his own way. "Hey, hey, it's okay. M' not gonna hurt you. Are you okay?"

He's fumbling with his words, unsure if he's even doing the right thing. You blink at him, your eyes still watery. Dave knows you have a crush on Kick-Ass so this must be extra embarrassing and in his panic, he looks you up and down and fakes a much too insightful educated guess as a way to make you comfortable.

"Did you just get dumped?"

You scrunch up your nose in confusion and shake your head. Your crying has ceased and you huddle your arms around your legs, resting your chin on your knee. You sigh and look around at the mostly empty park.

"I'm hopeless," you say, not looking at Kick-Ass in particular.

Dave swallows and fully sits down now, unsure what else he can do. As a superhero he wants to make sure you're safe, and as your best friend, he has a burning desire to stay with you. You turn to him and chuckle out a laugh, sniffling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, confused.

"Me. I'm a fucking joke," you whisper, laughing as you try not to cry again. "I'm so stupid."

"Why do you say that?" Dave asks in a rush, his voice high again. You're too busy self-loathing to hear the change.

"Because I spend all my fucking time pretending that the one boy I am in love with, I am not actually in love with him! A-and then I go around trying to forget him with any boy that smiles my way or simply walks by and they're never good enough."

Dave thinks you're talking about Kick-Ass and he panics even more. "I-"

"Like how fucking stupid am I? Rambling on and on about you when all I want is him?"

Dave's heart sinks. Shit, he thinks, so you must be talking about Corey then.

After a beat of silence, he says, "I'm sure your date likes you back." He assumes you're most likely overwhelmed since you had said Corey didn't dump you and it's late and—

"My date?" you laugh, "What are you talking about? No. Not my date. My best friend," you ramble on, tears still falling. "I love him and I've messed it up too many times pretending like I don't. I- and Corey told me David's in love with Katie and I just feel so stupid."

You're too distraught to catch on to how weird it is that Kick-Ass has more information about your date than he should as you ramble on and on to him as if he understands who everyone is. Dave can tell you're mostly just speaking out your frustrations.

"D-David?"

You nod, sniffling. "Dave. My best friend, the guy I'm in love with," you tell him and look at Kick-Ass, groaning immediately and then holding your face in your hands like you'd just done something shameful. "Fuck, I'm sorry, this is inappropriate. I'm so sorry I am wasting your time—"

You lower your hands and then he's kissing you before you can finish the sentence. His hands cup around your cheeks as he leans in and continues to kiss you.

You lose yourself in the moment for a bit, your very real yet superficial attraction to Kick-Ass kicking in as you kiss him back until reality finally snaps in and you push him away, scrambling up.

"What the fuck?!" you scream, feeling violated as you wipe your lips with your hand.

Dave panics now fumbles with his costume. "W-Wait, let me explain," he mutters as he frantically pulls at the zipper behind his neck and throws his mask onto the dirt. He looks up, brown curls falling in front of his eyes. Your eyes widenand you blink at him.

"Hi," Dave mumbles, his blue eyes shining as the tips of his ears burn.

"Fuck!" you shriek and lean forward, kneeling again as you now cover his face with your hands, all kinds of emotions overcoming you. "What is wrong with you?!" You grab his mask, shoving it in his hands. Your heart is pounding as he stumbles, falling over from the roughness of the way you're tackling him.

He grunts and holds your waist with one hand as he pushes your hands away to pull his mask back on. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!" he mutters as he attempts to zip it up. You mumble curses and take over, adjust the fabric as you sit back on your heels and simply watch him.

Dave.

Kick-Ass is Dave?!

You swat his arm repeatedly. "You fucker!!"

"O-ow!" Dave winces as he shields himself from the blows.

You continue to hit him, your mind unable to process anything anymore— "I can't believe you hide this from me! And that you kissed me?! You fucking perv!" you shout, with no real bite behind your words as your palm rests on his toned chest.

Fuck.

Dave sits back as your assaults calm down and groans. "I'm sorry."

"Bullshit," you clap back, staring at him. "You aren't sorry. You did that on purpose because I–" you cover your mouth with your hands, "I admitted I have a crush on you."

Dave grins widely, some confidence coming back as he nods his head.

"Kill me," you mutter.

"Kiss you?" he asks. He's looking at you with his striking blue eyes, chewing on his lower lip. You look at him in his costume and now it all makes sense. Duh, Dave Lizewski is Kick-Ass! It's all in the eyes. How could you have missed them?

"What?"

"You just asked me to kiss you."

You pause for a moment but then you break out into laughter.

"I didn't," you say.

Dave leans away, hurt written across his features. "But you want it," he tries. "Y/n I have loved you for years. How could you not know?"

He looks completely serious. You know him. You've known him for years. You know that look behind his eyes. Your expression softens and warmth fills your chest.

"You can't go around kissing girls without their permission," you whisper, inching forward as your eyes drift to his lip. Dave's lips.

Dave leans in, almost entranced as he senses your movements. You've always been connected but this feels like a magnetic pull. "I don't plan on kissing any other girls, just you," he says honestly, not even trying to make a move, "but I should have asked you. I'm sorry. I should have—"

It's your turn to pull him in, crashing your lips against his. It isn't smart, kissing Kick-Ass out in the open like this but neither you nor Dave seem to care. Your lips move rhythmically with his and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer.

Dave's gloved hands tighten around your hips, pulling you in even closer as he loses himself in you. You feel so at ease as he deepens the kiss, only pulling away to catch your breath. Dave's looking at you from behind his mask, his chest heaving.

You lean in and hug him, holding him close. "Why didn't you tell me you liked me?" you whisper.

Dave wraps his arms around your middle. "Why didn't you?" he counters.

You grin against his shoulder. "Smartass."

Once you pull away again, Dave stands and holds out his hand. He pulls you up and looks around. Thankfully no one is around. "Let me walk you home?"

You nod and nudge his shoulder as you walk. He laughs and pushes you away a little—just like always. A comfortable silence falls upon you both and you itch to hold his hand. Instead, you ask softly.

"You're careful, right?" You look at his costume.

It's barely audible but Dave hears you anyways. He nods.

"Yeah. I always am."

Your hand grazes his and your chest fills with warmth.

"Good. Can't lose you when I've only just gotten you."

tags: @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski x fem!reader #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski blurb #dave lizewski fluff #dave lizewski fanfiction #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski kick ass #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson kick ass

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