#i hope u enjoy at least one of these! thanks again for the ask :)
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Hey Reiney! i've been following your Renkaza comic for some time now and it's kind of gotten me into the ship. Would you happen to have any fic recs to get me started?
im so honoured my comic got u into the ship! (@sshcomic for those who don't know! 🫶) i love giving out fic recs omg thank u so much for asking!!!! i have 15 for ya haha.
i'll have specific recs under the cut, but first i wanna just say that anything by emilieee @e-milieeee ; dragonsandcryptids @lesbiansanemi ; and tippertupper are great places to start! they're amazing writers with a good body of work and i've definitely gone through a lot--if not all--of their renkaza stuff! please check them out!
word count is rounded to nearest thousand btw! :) smoke and mirrors + demon's choice are big inspirations for my comic, if ur coming from there!
i've also realized these can be pretty lengthy so if u want recs with shorter word counts just lmk and i'll comb through my bookmarks for <15k. but anyways!
Smoke and Mirrors by emilieee (272k)
canon happens in modern times au, where akaza ends up as kyo's apartment neighbour, tho kyo doesn't initially realize akaza's a demon. it's emotional! it's plotty! akaza mentions kokushibo made all the kizuki's fake id's and i still think that's hilarious! it's got one of my fave enemies to besties akaza & shinobu plots ever! please read this!!!
last sunrise by DragonsAndCryptids (182k)
akaza turns kyojuro by accident bc he bleeds too much into kyo's open wounds during the mugen train fight, and neither notice until it's too late. shinobu notices too and decides perhaps that this might be a prime research opportunity... uh-oh! the ethical quandries are good in this, and shinobu while flawed is very well-written. renkaza also end up with a soul bond. another emotional one but god is the journey amazing. tw for some torture scenes that could be graphic.
Small Fire of Winter Stars by phabulousphantom (66k)
modern au where akaza is a tattoo artist and kyo runs a teens program at the local community centre. it's one of my faves bc i just love stories about jaded people opening up and finding love and trust again, and this is exactly that. i also love the ensemble cast in it. the teenagers are adorable, especially inosuke who is a problem kid that finds something aspirational with akaza. thinking abt this fic is making me smile again!
Camp Kasugai by si1verbird77 (20k)
also modern au where renkaza are both counselors at a summer camp. kyo runs a percy jackson program, and he and akaza fall in love over the summer with the help of the deep trust that camp atmospheres usually end up fostering. kyo and sen, and akaza as well, also touch on the grief of losing parents, and the nature of camps as a place to grow into yourself and how time keeps moving. it's nice. i love this one a lot.
Inertia (series) by TipperTupper (23k)
akaza saves kyo from freezing to death, and kyo marvels at the compassion and humanity that akaza seems to hold in his muscle memory. ends up digging a little bit into akaza's trauma both as a human and as a demon controlled by muzan. sanemi gets a little mad about it in the third part and it's funny. overall vibe of the series is warm.
The Neverending Night by apodis (155k - incomplete)
when i say this fic rotates in my brain 24/7!!! akaza gets stuck in a time loop that resets every time kyo dies. it explores akaza's nature as someone who is willing to sacrifice everything for loved ones, and it's interesting bc at first kyo hates him, and then he starts to realize there's something wrong with akaza's memories bc of muzan, and he starts to really see how self-effacing akaza is. it's SO good, and the realizations both kyo and you as the reader have build and layer as the story progresses. akaza and kaname (kyo's crow) also build a friendship that is so important to me.
Demon's Choice by Celeste Gladnick (lairMorbidon) (69k - incomplete)
akaza defects early and joins tamayo, and so many more people are alive as a result. kyo in this one is interesting bc he's bigoted against demons thanks to his upbringing in a slayer family under abusive shinjuro, and refuses to see that akaza is anything other than dangerous, despite literally everyone else sticking up for him. extra fun bc he crushes on butterfly assistant hakuji without realizing that it's akaza in a human guise. akaza himself also has some deeply held trauma he doesnt quite realize he has.
what i wouldn't give by DragonsAndCryptids (59k)
senjuro becomes terminally ill and his end is fast-approaching. akaza, who's been bothering kyo on and off for two years since mugen train, hears about it and offers to help by turning sen into a demon. at first, kyo gives a hard no, but as his baby brother's illness progresses... well, anyone would get a little desperate, wouldn't they? love this bc one of my fave things abt renkaza is pushing kyo to his moral and ethical limit lol.
if you fly (say you won’t come back) by apodis (10k)
siren au! well, akaza's a siren, and kyo is the caretaker of a house that sees many different travelers. akaza's just the latest one. i love this one bc it's fantastical elements are wonderful, and it builds a very interesting world. as the reader, you have a lot of questions and it's an experience getting them answered. it's also prettily written. :)
Little Fighter Boy Comes Marching Home by VTheTrashKing (19k)
akaza gets de-aged by a demon's blood art, and kyo comes upon a little human boy with black hair and blue eyes, a chip on his shoulder and a very implicitly sad past, what with the criminal markings on his wrists and the way he insists he can take care of himself. another one of my fave renkaza things and kyo getting bowled over by hakuji's tragic story so i loved the way he puzzles it together in this one based on the little boy in front of him, and just finds one sad thing after another.
“Don’t die, Kyojuro” by Lenasaurous (24k)
akaza lets kyo live and often tells him not to die. kyo, who's life is often visited by death considering his occupation, begins to rely on akaza's immortality as a demon, and depend on his company as a constant--that is, until akaza passes out from not eating, and stays down for the count. uh-oh. (i also love this fic 'cuz there's this scene where akaza tries so hard to make kyo like him by giving him herbs and helpful plants, even tho kyo doesn't really want him around at that point, and it's so sweet and so sad. i wanna give him a hug!!!)
Memories behind broken glass by GammaRays (58k - incomplete)
this is the akaza whump fic of my dreams lol he gets captured and experimented on by shinobu (and it can be grisly so tw for that). kyo lured him into a trap to get him captured and ends up standing guard and starting to question his morals when it becomes clear that shinobu is being intentionally cruel. as the torture experiments go on, akaza also becomes so delirious that he begins to remember his human past. kyo loses it a little. it's good.
All the things a cup can hold by Liatheus (9k)
akaza takes shinjuro demon hunting lol. this is actually more of a shinjuro character study with side renkaza, but i love it specifically for a scene near the end where they all have tea, and ruka's empty place at the table feels obvious, and kyo and shinjuro are sort of crying about it. i also love that it explores the way shinjuro used to be a hashira, and how akaza investigates his strength in that sense. shinjuro's strength is an important aspect to kyojuro that doesn't often get delved into, and it makes sense to me that akaza sort of looks into it, as someone who loves kyo's strength.
Hello Again (the weight of memories welcome me home) by VTheTrashKing (15k)
this one's more artsy than anything but i love sci-fi as a genre so i'm reccing it lol i'm being self-indulgent. for whatever reason, throughout his life, akaza gets visited by various hashira. it's all very timey-wimey and the renkaza is more implied than anything, but there's this scene where akaza's being held trial at a hashira meeting, and then a future sanemi and future giyuu come out of nowhere to protect him and shock the living daylights out of their past selves, and it's so wild. i love it so much.
the milk incident by lattelesbean (4k)
this is just funny haha! short and fun read. modern soyama twins au where akaza's a café barista and accidentally puts his foot in his mouth in a very embarrassing way, bc he was too busy thirsting over kyo, his latest customer, to double-check what was about to come out of his mouth lol. i am still laughing.
#fic recs#i hope u enjoy at least one of these! thanks again for the ask :)#renkaza#akaren#akaza#kny akaza#rengoku kyojuro#kny kyojuro#kny#kny fic#demon slayer#demon slayer fanfic#kimetsu no yaiba
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─── Ⅵ FIGURE EIGHTS
violet; 28,888 words; fluff and smut (at the end), semi enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi x figure skater!reader, ice dancers!meljayce, miscommunication, smau-intermissions, toxic ex!cait, simpgirl!vi, slowburn, the gays r bad at feelings, lots of making out that almost leads to something, emotional edging (for YOU lol), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), slightly unhinged!reader, no "y/n"
summary: a hockey player and a figure skater kind of, sort of, not really, but then actually fall in love. what could possibly go wrong? (narrator: apparently, everything.)
a/n: YALL. yall. YOU. ALL. lmfao. i can't believe i finished this (i say, after writing any fic longer than 5k words). but i TRULY doubted for a second that i would bc as i kept writing, it kept... getting longer? i hope that this doesn't drag, and that you guys like it. it's really a fucking labor of love. like heavy emphasis on the labor. shoutout to @vifilms for being my emotional support, and to my irl bf for actually physically reading through like 90% of this fic out LOUD with me to make sure the dialogue doesn't sound awk. BUT ANYWAYS. pls enjoy and PLS tell me what u guys think!!!! the smau fake texts won't start till chapter three, but ! it's my first time making like.. fake texts so sldkfjsd.
TABLE OF CONTENTS ━
prologue: party people
chapter one: shut up and kiss me
chapter two: fists to a knife fight
chapter three: love's dream
chapter four: for cup's sake
chapter five: don't hate the player (suggestive)
chapter six: six (nsfw)
─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ
pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged for this series! :) if you're already on my vi-taglist via my normal taglist link, then you're all good. if you only wanna be tagged for this series, comment below! pls pls have your age visible somewhere on your blog as this will be an 18+ fic!!!! thank you!!!
prologue: party people
─── Ⅵ IT STARTS WITH A GAME of spin the bottle — a college party post-game, the home team the exhalant victors, the crowds of adoring fans the worshippers at their beer-tower altars, doing keg stands and shot-gunning cans of cheap bud lite for an approving grin or a wink.
“Remind me why we’re here again?” you ask, jerking back as a drunken guy nearly topples into you, the red solo cup in his hand sloshing over onto the already sticky linoleum floor.
Mel sighs, “Because, darling, you promised me that you’d come out at least once if me and Jayce made it through the Challenger Series this year.”
She tugs you behind her, weaving through the crush of bodies till the cramped living room area opens onto a much larger patio, the mid-autumn chill cooling your skin.
“It was a joke,” you say, whining slightly even as Mel grabs what looks like an unopened hard cider from the table and presses it into your hand.
“Yes, and one that hurt my feelings,” Mel sniffs, turning her nose up, though a grin teases at her lips, “so to make up for it, you now have to stay at this party and have some semblance of a good time.”
And that was three and a half drinks ago, because sometime between then and now, you’ve found yourself pulled into an unwitting game of spin the bottle with what seems like half the entire hockey team, sitting next to Mel, her boyfriend Jayce on your other side, chatting animatedly with one of the girls hockey girls. You overhear the words “creatin” and “Bulgarian Squat” and decided that it’s time for you to tune out of the conversation.
“Vi, it’s your turn!”
Vi, your thoughts linger over the sound.
It’s a pretty name.
You glance up at the girl sitting across from you, Number Six — you’ve always known her as that, what with the tattoo on her cheek (there were rumors that it’s actually not real and she just reapplies one of those temporary tattoos every two weeks) and the fact that it’s her jersey number, it’s really not too hard to remember.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, laughing as she reaches for the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Her right hand’s bandaged up and you can’t help staring at it. When you look up next, it’s to catch her watching you, your eyes meeting in a startling clash of raw contact — the cacophonous noise of the party dulling out to a thin whine somewhere at the back of your head as you stare at her and she stares right back.
You’d never noticed that her eyes, even in the dark, beneath the dim, flickering patio lights, reads mourning-dove blue, so subtle it’s almost gray, so sharp as she takes you in that your stomach drops from inside you. She smirks and twists her fingers expertly around the bottle, setting it whizzing.
You tear your eyes away, your breath sent astray in your chest by just that look alone. You frown at the spinning bottle, your mind abuzz with fragmentary thoughts you can’t quite string along for long enough to form a full sentence — eyes… her lips are pretty… wasn’t she dating… someone? who??? what’s her name again? something pretty —
“— right, ice princess, you ready?”
“Huh?” you jerk your eyes up from the bottle to find everyone watching you. From your left, Mel nudges you with a sanctimonious grin, her eyes flickering down to the bottle and back up towards —
“Go on!” she hisses, even as you blink uncomprehendingly down at the bottle pointing right at you.
Across the circle, Vi’s questioning smirk is all the answer you need as your alcohol-addled brain finally puts together the pieces.
“R-right…” you push up onto your knees, but something holds you back, a niggling feeling in the back of your brain as Vi’s smirk grows wide and she jerks her head towards the living room.
“Want a bit of privacy? Or… would you prefer an audience?”
Half the circle wolf-whistles at the insinuation, the other half roll their eyes, leaning back on their elbows as if to settle in for a long night.
You lick your lips, feeling your mouth scald dry.
“Privacy. Please.”
You follow Vi stiffly from the patio back into the stuffy house, her fingers closing around your wrist as she tugs you behind her through a long hallway splitting off from the main living room, branching into a series of what look like bedrooms. Half the doors are closed, illicit sounds echoing out from behind them, but Vi finds an empty one near the end of the hallway and pushes it open, leading you inside.
“Oh wow,” you say, looking around the room. It’s a typical fratboy’s room, full of suggestive posters, the floor littered with questionably laundered clothes.
“What, not your ideal setting for a makeout-sesh with a stranger?”
You frown as your eyes slingshot back to Vi, her standing feet from you, hands tucked loosely into her pockets, watching you with dark, firefly eyes.
“Thought we were just supposed to kiss once.”
Vi chuckles, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides, crowding you up against the closed door.
“Sure. We can do that. Or…” she makes no effort to hide the way her eyes flicker down to your lips, trailing back up in a line of fire that sizzles against your skin. “I could show you what a real good time looks like.”
Your breath crystalizes in your chest, and the strange, tickling feeling traces down the back of your head till it gathers, hot and unconscionable at the nape of your neck — a spin-click wheel of half-formed thoughts and images ticking by behind your eyelids as you try to remember why the hell this feels so wrong.
And then, it clicks, and you press a hand to Vi’s chest just as she’s leaning down to graze her lips against yours, the friction so delicious you almost lose your train of thought.
“A-are you sure this is a good idea? Didn’t you just break up with that track and field girl? Caitlyn?” you blurt out, a culmination of all the snippets of whispered conversations and half-caught glances of the pair of them across campus. The It-Girl Couple, people called them, the hockey team star and the track and field genius. They were hard to miss, and even harder to forget.
A moth-wing-flicker of emotions crosses Vi’s face as she takes half a step back, her expression morphing into one of shock, and then hurt, and finally, hard-lined disgust as she looks down at you with a thin-lipped grimace.
“Oh fuck you.”
She yanks you from the door, storming out without a backwards glance. You catch yourself against the half-made bed, your breath coming in heaving pants as your head spins. Guilt curdles in the bed of your stomach like spoilt milk, and it only takes you half a second to realize that of all the things to say, that probably was the worst possible choice.
You’d heard mention of the breakup, even if you didn’t have any stakes in this so-called game. It was harsh and messy and loud, and it had spilled across campus like a backed-up toilet, oozing foulness and stank across the grounds till not a single person was left unstained in the aftermath.
“Wait —” you stumble after Vi, but it’s too late. By the time you reach the patio doors, she’s already settling back into her place in the circle, an easy grin slung across her lips.
You swallow, pushing through the door to scurry over to Mel’s side. Mel beams at the flush in your cheeks, convinced (just like the rest of the circle) that it’d been one hell of a kiss, judging by how entirely breathless you are.
“Damn Vi, you gotta learn how to go easy on them figure skaters, hm?” Margot smirks, her eyes glittering as she looks you over, “look at the poor darling — she can barely breathe!”
Everyone laughs, and Vi flashes a convincingly satisfied smirk, shrugging up a shoulder. You glance at her, only to shiver at the arctic ice behind her gaze as your eyes catch once more.
“What can I say? Easy isn’t a setting I come programmed with.”
You duck your head as Vi casts you one more frigid look before turning to laugh at something a teammate has just said, and the circle devolves into good-natured banter and pocket conversations. You gulp around your too-dry throat and pluck Mel’s drink from her hand, tossing the rest of it back in a single gulp. She blinks at you, eyes wide.
“Darling, are you —”
“I — I’m fine just — it’s — I think I’m gonna head back.”
Mel frowns, “Are you sure? I mean —” she looks towards where Vi’s been pulled into an impromptu arm-wrestling match with some dude from the football team, “you could try and —”
You shake your head, “No, I — I think I’m good. I had a good time, I just —” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ve got practice tomorrow and Amara’s gonna murder me if I get there late.”
Mel stares for a second before relenting, a soft sigh on her lips.
“Alright, alright — go on then. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yes?”
You give her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for a quick hug before ducking out of the party, skirting the edges of the growing mosh pit forming in the living room till you finally find yourself out on the front steps again.
You close your eyes for a second, pressing your back to the frat house door, feeling the dull thump of the music inside reverberating through the thin wooden frame as you breathe in and out.
You can still taste the heat of Vi’s breath on your lips, feel harsh sting of ice as she’d caught your eyes after. The chill air, once refreshing, pebbles your skin and an involuntary shiver shakes down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself and give your head a good shake.
Whatever, you think, stepping off the porch, casting your eyes up at the star-strewn sky, a whisp of warm breath fogging up the air before you.
Not like it’ll matter. Bet she won’t even remember me after tonight.
taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt
#⛈ monsoon season#♨ steamy#arcane#vi x reader#vi smut#arcane x reader#arcane smut#vi x you#arcane x you#vi arcane smut#vi fanfic#arcane fanfic#vi x y/n#arcane x y/n#vi x reader smut#vi headcanons#arcane vi#x reader#lesbian#wlw smut#wlw fanfic#i DO WANT TO SAY i had to make cait p toxic in this bUT IT IS FOR THE PLOT OKAY I DO LIKE HER A LOT ACTUALLY IRL LOL#pls cait fans do not hunt me for sport lol#♾️ figure eights
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NOT A CHILL GIRL.
pairings: lewis hamilton x chronically online fiancée!yn
faceclaim: jordana brewster
summary: chronically online, funniest on the grid, and the proud owner of a face card that never declines—at least, according to yourself. your fiancé might raise an eyebrow at the first claim, the world might debate the second, but no one’s arguing with the third.
warnings: just jokes. don’t take any of this seriously.
author’s note: hope u enjoy bunny anon! :D
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liked by lewishamilton, yourinstagram and 187,938 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: celebrity stylist, and fiancée of f1 legend lewis hamilton, yn yln took to instagram stories to share some concerning posts. what do we think about these captions, ham1ltons?
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yourinstagram MAMA I MADE IT
— user1 yn you have dressed some of the top celebrities and this is what you’re excited over??
— user2 forget that. she’s fucking LEWIS HAMILTON!!! and this is what she’s excited over???
user3 this is a v tame post for yn LMFAO
— user4 like she’s posted worse 😭
user5 she’s so unserious i’m obsessed
— user6 my fav wag
user7 i love the fact she’s dressing zendaya, showing up to her hot fiancé’s races and still finds time to shitpost
— user8 she’s so me
user9 she should be embarrassed. she’s grown
— user10 she will never see this btw
user11 i need to know lewis’ thoughts on these posts
user12 she’s the moment. i want to be her so bad.
— user13 successful in her own right AND secured the bag. #needtoBEthat
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INSTAGRAM LIVE
yn i’m using lewis’ ninja creami to make slushies and sydney isn’t picking up her phone because she’s on set. so entertain me, my little gladiators.
user1 what flavour slushie are you making and why is it pure tequila
yn no. it’s a margarita mix. mostly anyways. all about balance babes.
user2 worst red carpet outfit request you’ve ever gotten?
yn girl some actor asked me to dress him up in head to toe camo… i wanted to be sick.
user3 yn, when’s the wedding? lewis is literally ready to propose again.
yn not until jungkook confirms he’s off the market. i need to know i’m not leaving options on the table.
user4 did you see lando’s post underneath your birthday post to lewis.
yn i did and i’m angry. how dare he be funnier than me on my own shitpost.
user5 who’s better at gift-giving, you or lewis?
yn me. obviously. lewis once got me a pen because “it looked sleek.” it was a nice pen, but still a pen.
user6 yn, if you could style anyone in history, who would it be?
yn harry styles but in 2012. imagine the chaos if he let me near those blazers.
user7 how did you guys meet?
yn via a mutual friend at a party. i thought his choice of shoes was disastrous and he thought i was funny. so obviously i went home with him that night. then i fell in love or whatever.
user8 you are literally the blueprint for chaotic but lovable. never change.
yn never will, little gladiator. never will.
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
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liked by yourinstagram, thirstystan1 and 1,098,125 others.
lewishamilton: sunday best, thank you theststyle
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yourinstagram why won’t this damn app swipe RIGHT?!?!?
— lewishamilton wrong app sweetheart
— yourinstagram oh shit 😓 can you show me how to download the right one? ever since ashley madison shut down and farmersonly.com banned me for “unsolicited flirting,” it’s been tough out here.
— lewishamilton maybe try clownsonly.com—heard they’re taking new members.
— yourinstagram wow. this from the guy who once googled “how to impress a bad bitch” and got caught.
— lewishamilton a bad bitch was impressed, wasn’t she? checkmate.
— yourinstagram yeah, well, don’t get used to it. also, happy valentine’s, loser. 💖
— lewishamilton happy valentine’s, clown. ❤️
— user1 y’all are some weirdos 😭🩷
user2 YN GIVE HIM TO MEEEEEE
user3 #NEEDTHAT
— yourinstagram #TOOBAD
— user3 YN PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭
user4 need this relationship NOW
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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @aliciaablueprint @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
#jayde’s works ☆#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#formula one x female reader#lewis hamilton social media au#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smau#lh44 smau#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#f1 x you#f1 fic#f1 smau
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can we please have breeding with bruce wayne and wife!reader?
like feral breeding, maybe he’s had a hard patrol and he’s barely out of the batsuit before he has you on all fours.
maybe his hormones are in over drive from a poison ivy plant he originally thought had no affect on him. but now all he wants to do is fuck until his little wife is filled and he’s satisfied
thank youuuuu
xcherrycreempie
HAWWO !!!!!!
SO HOT. IT’S SO HOT.
I MEAN i have headcanons breeding kink w bruce (it’s here!!), but i can do it again. ofc i can do it again. 🤭
BUT FIRST OF ALL I WANNA SAY THAT I MISSED WRITING !!!
…and requests. i love chatting with all of u 💥💥
and i remember every request!! i promise i’ll write it, my sweethearts 🩷
ANYWAY IN MY HEAD IT’S DEFINITELY SMTH DIRTY IN A GOOD WAY… HEAR ME OUT……
warnings ! — SMUT, fem!wife!reader, husband!bruce wayne, breeding kink, dirty talk, maledom, orgasm torture, feral fuck, multiple orgasm
summary ? — he comes back weird after patrol.
౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇
he didn't even bother to change his clothes.
“hold on, hold on, bruce!” you try to push him away as wayne continues to kiss you insistently, “at least change!”
and it's weird because he never acts like that. you know very well that bruce hates quick sex and he's willing to spend an hour of foreplay torturing you. of course he's willing to find a couple hours to fuck you good.
but right now he's impatient. he's still in his batsuit, so you can't even see his eyes under that stupid mask.
you reach out to take it off, and bruce even helps you. you pull it off and he slows down, maintaining eye contact.
when you look into his face you realize that his eyebrows are furrowed and his pupils are dilated.
you think it’s something bad, but why is he looks so fucking hot right now?
you don’t know how many times you’ve cum.
your mind is racing with his every move and word, your nails are scratching his back, leaving a red marks, and your mouth open with loud moans.
“you take me so well, baby, just like you wanna make me cum inside,” bruce whispers and bites your nipples gently, “such a wet mess, pretty girl, is it too much to take for you?” he’s fucking you harder with every thrust, your clit is so swollen, your entrance pulsates around his cock and your moan makes him continue.
he flips you onto your stomach in one easy motion without even getting his cock out. you’re whimpering into the pillow and clutching the sheets, trying to beg him to slow down.
“what are you asking for, wifey? speak up,” bruce pulls your hair back, making you arch your back, “you want this cum inside? want me to get you pregnant?” he bites your lobe, speeding up.
you're ready to swear that right now wayne looks so damn hot. his arm muscles tense as he pulls your hair with one and supports you with the other. bruce’s eyelashes must be twitching as he makes one last push and cum inside.
he falls onto the bed next to you, as tired as you are. you cover your eyes and smile slightly as he reaches out for a kiss.
and now he’s okay again, you think. but what the fuck was that?
“you alright?” bruce kisses your cheeks, hugging him tightly. you nod and nuzzle his chest, “did i overdo it?”
i mean, it’s third time he came inside. you don’t feel your legs and he definitely got you pregnant.
“nah,” you smile, “it was perfect.”
hope you’ll like it cherry !!! <3
🦇 abt me | m.list
#dc#dc comics#dc universe#writing#bruce wayne headcanons#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne headcanon#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne smut#bruce wayne#batman x reader#batman x fem!reader#batman x y/n#batman x you#batman smut#batman#dc smut#dc x you#dc x reader#dc imagine#dayasu’s collection !! ✩#song !! ✩
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Hello! For the christmas celeb request, may i request a bullet hc of the twst characters (1st years preferably and anyone else u want) reacting to you kissing them on the cheek cause both of you were under a mistletoe and immediately running away afterwards? Like pre-relationship and it was almost instinctive for u but you couldn't bear to see their reaction jfjsjfjsjjs thank u so much !!!
COMMENTS: Hi. I liked the idea! I thought it was really cute. ❤️ And since it's something short I made it for all the characters. And as a bonus I also made it for Rollo. ☺️
Hope you and all enjoy it. 💋
CHARACTERS: All NRC Students (Ortho is platonic) + Rollo
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Headcanons
WORD COUNT: An average of 100 words per character.
Context: You told them a little about Christmas and the tradition of giving someone a kiss when the two people were both under the mistletoe.
I don't believe Christmas exists in Twisted Wonderland, so this is a tradition of yours. Some of the boys have been spreading sprigs of mistletoe around in the hopes that this will happen and you will give them a kiss.
This is their reaction when you kiss them on the cheek out of nowhere and run away.
Riddle almost freezes as he blushes. He needs a minute to process what just happened.
When he finally looks around, astonished and confused, he can't find you anymore.
He looks up, sees the mistletoe and remembers what you told them about it.
He concludes that the best thing to do (and what he wants to do) would be to kiss you back when you were under the mistletoe again.
So he will try to be close to you and attentive for when this happens.
And when it does, he will walk up to you with a smile, but blushing slightly, and give you a sweet surprise kiss on the cheek, like you did to him.
“You were under the mistletoe.” He smiles. “Rules must be followed accordingly.” He gives you one last loving look and continues on his way.
Ace jumps immediately! And blushes a little.
You run away while he's trying to ask what was going on.
“Oh, no you won't!” He doesn't waste time chasing after you.
When he reaches you, he grabs you in a hug.
“Did you think you could get away without revenge?” And he kisses your cheek back.
Deuce half jumps, half stands petrified in confusion.
He blushes and sees you running away. “Wait! What was that? (Y/N)!”
He has no idea whether to follow you or just stand there. And he is struggling with this decision.
When he finally realizes that there was mistletoe over the two of you, he decides to try to do the same and return your kiss.
And when he does, it will be a kiss like yours, quick, shy and he will run away.
Cater tried to grab you before you could run away, but he was unsuccessful. However, he didn't run after you.
He was so sad to see you leave after that sweet kiss.
“Aww, why are the cutest ones always the shy ones?”
He will try to find you to return the kiss.
And when he does, it will be a casual but loving kiss. He will wink at you and walk away.
Trey will look at you right after the kiss and see you running away.
He just chuckles amusedly. But he'll be more attentive so he can be the one to kiss you back next time.
And when he does, it will be when you least expect it. He will simply walk past you, minding his own business, stopping to kiss your cheek and moving on as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Leona can predict your steps, herbivore. Do you really think you could surprise him?
As soon as you turn to try to run away, he grabs you and pulls you back to him.
He gives you a lazy but loving kiss on the cheek and only then does he let you go.
He will enjoy watching your reaction with a smirk on his face.
If you stood there blushing, he'll say: “What? The herbivore wanted to play and can't even handle a counter-attack?”
Jack jumps and looks at you in amazement as you run away.
It takes a few seconds for him to process what happened.
But as soon as he notices the mistletoe above him, he realizes what happened and runs after you by instinct.
When he reaches you, he stands in front of you and cushion the shock.
He starts to blush when he realizes he's practically hugging you and lets you go.
“I... I just want to pay you back.” He says as his tail wags. He kisses you on the cheek and runs away like you did to him.
“Oi! Wait a minute!” Ruggie immediately runs after you without thinking.
As soon as he reaches you he grabs you in a hug.
“Shye hee hee. Do you really think you'll stop me from retaliating your attack by trying to run away from me?”
He kisses you on the cheek affectionately.
Azul is absolutely shocked! And confused. He sees you running away with a perplexed and blushing face.
Only then does he look up and see the mistletoe. “Damn it, now I'm in debt.” He never liked a debt so much.
He'll kiss you back even if he has to put a sprig of mistletoe right on the door of the Mostro Lounge VIP room.
And when he manages to attract you to where he wants you: “So, it seems you have made me indebted to you. Something dangerously bold, I must warn you. Fortunately I like to be merciful to you.” He kisses your cheek as quickly as you kissed his. “The deal is fulfilled.”
Jade simply looks at you running away with his eyebrows raised in surprise.
After realizing that it was because there was a sprig of mistletoe above the two of you, he chuckles.
He will follow you stealthily to pay you back in kind.
He will continue to follow and observe you until he finds the perfect and most fun opportunity.
And when that happens, he'll first enjoy watching you getting flustered and then give you a kiss on the cheek with the same intensity as yours and leave with a smile.
“Hm?” Floyd will look curiously at you running away.
And if he was in a bad mood, you just cheered him up.
He doesn't even care if it was because of the mistletoe. Now he wants to play tag with you.
He will follow you and wait for your guard to be down so he can surprise you with a hug.
“Bah~!” He kisses your cheek playfully. “This was fun. Let's play again!”
Kalim is surprised and when he looks at you he sees you running away.
He smiles very happily at your gesture, but he’s confused.
Only then does he look up and realize that you were under the mistletoe.
“Oh! I should try to do the same to them and return the kiss.”
The problem is that he will eventually forget to do it.
It's only when he meets you again and happens to be the one who sees the mistletoe above you first that he remembers: “Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. There's something I want to give you.” And he kisses your cheek playfully, but affectionately.
Jamil noticed you approaching, but since it was you he let it go.
However, he wasn't expecting to receive a kiss. So he quickly looks at you in shock and sees you running away as he blushes.
He puts his hood up to hide his face, and only then does he look up and see the mistletoe. And now he wants to pay you back.
He will mentally record all the places he sees where mistletoe is placed. And when he sees you near one he will find a way to put you where he wants you.
And when that happens: “Ah, (Y/N). I was looking for you. I need to give you something.” He kisses your cheek, says goodbye to you and continues on his way with a smirk on his face.
Did you just kiss Vil Schoenheit on the cheek? Without formal permission?! How bold! How daring!
He sees you running away with a mix of amazement and shock on his face. And with that hand on his chest like ‘Excuse you?’
The fact that he knows it was because of the mistletoe above you doesn't change the fact that he believes an act like that cannot go unpunished.
The next time he meets you: “You have no idea how lucky you are that what you did to me wasn't witnessed by someone who could sell it as scandalous gossip.” He tells you annoyed. Then he sighs. “You need to be more careful.” He smiles smugly. “And you need to make it up to me.”
He makes you agree to carry all his bags the next time he goes shopping.
“Oh, and one last thing.” He says, still looking angry, but then he kisses your cheek in a skillfully affectionate way. “You were under the mistletoe, dear.” He smiles and goes on his way.
“Wha?!” Epel gets startled and says something in his dialect before looking at you and seeing you running away. “What in tarnation was that?!” He blushes a lot.
He looks around trying to understand what just happened until he sees the sprig of mistletoe above him. This only makes him blush even more.
He doesn't really know what to do about it, but he knows he really wants to kiss you back.
However, it is fate (or Rook) that makes you meet again under the mistletoe.
And this time he is the first to realize it and quickly but passionately gives you a kiss on the cheek and runs away like you did with him.
Rook looks at you with one of the biggest smiles on his face, but sees you running away. “Oh non, Trickster. Why so shy?” He says with pity, but then he smiles with that hunter's look. “This way you leave me no choice but to go after you.”
And that's what he does, carefree and having fun.
He stalks you until he finds the perfect spot. Where the two of you will be completely alone and isolated.
You are startled by an arrow sticking out of a tree above you, with a sprig of mistletoe on the tip. And then by his voice.
“Aw, Trickster.” He says in a velvety voice and approaches you. “You left before I could thank you for the beautiful gesture. I was so happy to be able to feel your lips on my skin. Allow me to repay you.” He comes very close and kisses your cheek slowly and passionately.
Idia jumps and gives that high-pitched scream of his. He gapes at you as you run away. “YOU are the one who is running away? I'M THE ONE WHO WANTS TO HIDE!” his hair almost exploded in pink.
And that's what he does: he hides in his room for the rest of the day. Or almost, if it weren't for Ortho taking him out of there and convincing him to do the same to you with his help.
It takes a long time to convince him, but the two end up forming a plan.
They will lure you to a strategic point in Ignihyde where the two of you will be isolated from other people.
And Idia will appear out of nowhere behind you with that evil smile. “Very cowardly of you to hit and run. I thought you were braver, but it looks like I would lose that bet.”
Even though the tips of his hair are pink, he feels confident being alone with you and seeing you flustered as well.
He comes closer and gives you a cute kiss on the cheek. “There, we're even.” He turns around and practically runs away from you.
It was just a platonic kiss, so you didn't feel the need to run away. It was like kissing a little brother.
Ortho looks at you smiling with his eyes.
“Oh, this Gear doesn't allow me to return a kiss. Can I give you a hug instead (Y/N)?”
You just made Malleus fall in love with you (again).
He sees you running away, which makes him confused.
He didn't realize there was mistletoe all over you and that doesn't interest him either. Only you interest him.
He doesn't need to follow you, he transports himself to where you are.
“Why did you run away? Is that part of your tradition?” He asks a little sadly.
You will have to admit that you were embarrassed because you were afraid of his reaction and he will listen to you.
“Afraid?! Did you think I would punish you for this?” Now he is sad and worried.
You explain that you were just afraid he wouldn't like it because he might not like you back. And he laughs heartily.
“You needn't to worry about that, Child of Man. I can assure you that the feelings are mutual. Which makes me conclude that I should return the kiss.”
He kisses you on the cheek gently. And after that... he won't leave your side for the rest of the day.
You probably did it while Silver was sleeping, so you end up waking him up with your kiss. (the irony)
He looks at you confused as he has just woken up and sees you running away.
He is unsure whether you were part of his dream or not.
So when you meet again he doesn't talk about it.
But a little bird appears above you holding a sprig of mistletoe in its beak.
He ends up remembering the tradition you mentioned and asks if he could give you a kiss.
You accept and he kisses you softly on the cheek.
Sebek almost goes into a defensive position, but stops himself for knowing that it was you.
He sees you running away and for a second he is undecided whether to follow you or not. He ends up not following you because it wasn't an attack.
He will deny with all his might that he was blushing.
However, he feels he owes you the same in return, or that he must pay you back in kind.
The next time he sees you and you happen to be walking under another mistletoe he will shout: “HUMAN!” and will walk decisively towards you.
“You have a lot of nerve to do what you did and run away. At least stay and deal with the consequences properly!”
He quickly kisses you on the cheek with extreme affection and then straightens up while blushing.
“Here! The consequences of your actions.” He turns and walks away with every muscle tense.
You didn't surprise Lilia, but he pretended you did.
He lets you kiss his cheek and watches you run away, amused.
“Khee hee hee. Ah, shy youth, it's so cute. I should return the gesture.”
He will follow you until he finds the best opportunity.
He will appear right next to you, hovering upside down and give you a sweet kiss on the cheek as a surprise.
He will laugh in amusement at your reaction.
“Next time we're under the mistletoe, it'll be your turn. Khee hee.”
Rolo looks at you and freezes in that position, following you with a wide-eyed gaze.
It takes him a second to realize he's blushing a little and hide his face with his handkerchief.
“What rude impudence!” He says to himself, irritated that he liked it. “Forcing me to participate in such a ridiculous tradition. They should be punished for such disrespect.”
He won't try to kiss you back. Instead he will avoid you as much as possible. He doesn't want you to make him feel that way again. It's not... appropriate.
If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
#Twisted Wonderland#twst#Riddle Rosehearts#Ace Trappola#Deuce Spade#Cater Diamond#Trey Clover#Leona Kingscholar#Jack Howl#Ruggie Bucchi#Azul Ashengrotto#Jade Leech#Floyd Leech#Kalim Al-Asim#Jamil Viper#Vil Schoenheit#Epel Felmier#Rook Hunt#Idia Shroud#Ortho Shroud#Malleus Draconia#Silver#Sebek Zigvolt#Lilia Vanrouge#Rollo Flamme#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader
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“𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫” 𝐠𝐟 - 𝐦. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨
🫧 matt sturniolo x fem!reader
🫧 in which you play dress to impress with matt during one of his solo streams
🫧 fluff
🫧 1.4k words.
🫧 hi lovelies!! thank u so much for reading! i was playing dress to impress and i was like just thinking like when i say im a gamer this is what i mean. i play the silly fun games. so i wanted to write matt with a girl like that as well. i hope u enjoy!!!! much love!! <3 masterlist
You sat on the bed, back against the headboard and one headphone in your ear watching Matt play Fortnite. It could honestly get a little boring, but Matt was cute to look at when he got upset, so you persevered.
“Oh, yeah she’s right over here,” you hear Matt say with a chuckle. You look up from your hand where you were peeling a piece of nail polish off your finger to see him leaning over looking at you.
“Hi,” He says with a grin.
“Hello. Weren’t you just playing Fortnite?”
“Mhm. But they asked about you,” he says, pointing his thumb to where the Twitch chat is on his screen.
“Ah,” you let out, getting up from the bed, you make your way over to Matt and sit yourself down on his lap.
“Hey y’all,” you say with a wave. “How is everyone? I hope you’re behaving yourselves.”
You feel Matt place his chin on your shoulder as you're reading through chat.
“‘Where did you get that shirt?’ Well, thank you for asking mattsbabygirl33, I found it in the depths of Nick's closet. Swear that kid has too many clothes,” you answer with a small laugh.
“‘Thoughts on cuddling?’ I love cuddles! Matt and I alternate between big and little spoon throughout the week!”
“Don’t tell,” Matt grumbles, burying his face into your neck. You reach a hand up to run it through his hair.
“Sorry love,” you laugh.
“I think as penance you have to finally give in and play a game on stream.”
“Can I at least pick the game?”
“‘Course,” Matt says, placing a kiss on your cheek.
You grin and lean forward, placing your hands on the mouse and keyboard.
“Don’t look, I want it to be a surprise!”
“Ok,” you hear Matt chuckle as you click around, before you start typing, then more clicking.
“Alright! You can look now!”
“What,” Matt asks slowly, “are we playing exactly?” He’s eying the block model on screen with confusion, and it makes you giggle.
“Dress To Impress! It’s a game on Roblox! I play it all the time when it’s real slow at work.”
“Okay. How do we play?”
“So, well right now we’re in intermission, but once that’s over we’ll be given a theme, and then we’ll have to dress up to the theme, and then we’ll model and vote, and see who ranks in the end. Then we do it over again.”
“Okay, sounds easy enough.”
You smile as you look at the screen noticing intermission is gonna be over in six seconds.
You eagerly lean forward, placing your hand on the keyboard. Grinning once you see the theme pop up.
𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄
You got this in the bag. You practically grew up on Barbie.
You look over at Matt. “Ready?”
“Totally.”
You start moving your model around, making your way over to skirts to start off your look, going for the classic Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse. Once you’ve chosen your skirt and changed the color to fuchsia, you start looking for a top, then move on to shoes, before moving on to accessories.
“You have two minutes left!” Matt informs you.
“Oh trust me that’s plenty of time,” You respond, making your way towards the salon section to do hair and makeup.
“Which blonde looks better?” You ask Matt, switching between the two colors.
“Second one.”
You nod. “I was thinkin the same.”
You click the spacebar and watch your model hop out of the chair before you make your way over to the skin tone changer.
As soon as your model hops out, the screen goes black and states that voting is about to start.
The first model starts walking down the car walk and stops to pose and for you to vote.
“What the hell?” Matt says. “They’re not even on theme!”
“Yeah, that happens a lot,” You say with a sigh, keeping the vote on one star.
You and Matt vote and commentate on the next few outfits before it’s your turn.
“Oh, it’s us!” You clap happily. “Ok we have to pose,” you add after, moving the mouse toward the poses.
“I wanna pick,” Matt says, reaching over, making you move your hand.
“You gotta be quick with it.”
“Got it,” he says. You watch as he clicks through the poses, his tongue peeking out a little in concentration.
“Oh, our turns up!”
“We were the last to go, so now we see the top three winners.”
You both watch the screen change to announce the top three, the both of you hoping to be up on the podium somewhere.
“What the fuck!?” Matt exclaims, throwing his hands up, his brows furrowing. “None of them were even on theme!”
“As it happens,” you sigh, scrolling to see where you ended up ranking. Sixth place out of eight.
“I wanna play again,” Matt decides. “But I wanna dress the model this time.”
“Alright,” you agree easily. “We'll just have to wait in intermission before we’re given a new theme.”
You feel Matt nod as he rests his head back on your shoulder as you start to undress your model.
“‘This is why I can’t play this game, it’s just filled with nine year olds who don’t understand the theme’ Yeah, I feel you,” you respond to the chat. “That’s why I only really play when it’s slow at work, cause then I can’t publicly get too pissed.”
You’re reading through the chat, seeing if there’s anything else you wanna respond to when Matt taps your thigh.
“Eight seconds,” he mutters.
“Well, you’re dressing to impress this round, so get your hands ready mister.”
His hands snake around you to land on the keyboard and mouse and as soon as they land the next theme appears on screen.
𝐘𝟐𝐊
“Oh this should be so easy!” You gasp. “All you have to do is channel your inner Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, even Tarayummy!”
“You’ve got this,” you say, placing an encouraging kiss on Matt’s cheek.
“Mhm,” he hums, concentrating on getting his model over to the shirts he seen you pass earlier.
As Matt moves around to dress his model, you start reading through the chat again.
“‘Matt’s concentration and commitment to such a silly game is honestly so cute wtf’ Yes yes, I would have to agree, cvntynickk,” you laugh.
“‘Y/N, we need you here more often so he plays more than just fortnite!’ Ah, that’s kind of you chappellswift, but I don’t wanna be intruding too much,” you respond with a shy smile.
“Never intruding,” Matt mutters.
You smile at that, but it won’t stop the feeling.
“‘How to have a relationship like Y/N & Matt, no borax no glue plsss’ Just find someone who treats you right and respects you and the rest should really fall into place,” you say with a smile.
“Done!” Matt says.
You look over at the game and let out a gasp.
“Matt you did really good!” You look over at him to grin at him brightly.
“Thanks,” he says with a shy smile and slightly reddening cheeks.
The screen changes and voting commences. You and Matt go through the same process as last time. You watch Matt carefully choose each rating like this is America's Next Top Model and not a silly Roblox game.
Once it’s time for the winners to be announced, you feel Matt sit up just that bit straighter, and you struggle to reign in your smile at how serious he’s taking this.
The top three are revealed and,
“What the fuck!” Matt yelps out. “This is bullshit! None of what they’re wearing is y2k at all!”
He reaches over to see where he ranked and you watch as he stops and sees he got fifth place.
“Fuck this,” Matt huffs, leaning back in his chair. “I’m done with this game.”
“Alright then drama queen,” you laugh, exiting out.
“Thank you for having me, but I’m gonna go and get a treat now because I need my daily dose of sugar. Hopefully Chris didn’t eat all the donuts,” you mutter, placing a kiss on Matt’s head as you get up; Matt trying to get you to stay but not too hard knowing how you get without your sugar dose.
You wave bye to chat as well. “Maybe you guys will see me next time.”
“I’m so in love with her,” Matt says quietly to chat, but you hear it as you close his bedroom door; it makes a giddy smile appear on your face.
#ali’s writing 🖋️#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#ali’s thoughts & opinions 📼
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too sweet
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.
a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing
wc: 2.4k
warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff
Hotch can’t focus.
Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem.
You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.
You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you.
And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.
Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now.
It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon.
Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them.
But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention.
Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once.
Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in.
But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did.
You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive.
It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake.
But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher.
Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it.
Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder.
Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking.
But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night.
It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce.
“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time.
“What?”
“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips.
“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.”
JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.”
“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.”
Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—”
“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.”
“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.”
“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.”
“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.”
Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.”
Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you.
“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you?
“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.”
“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.”
JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.”
Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.”
“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.
“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.”
Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief.
“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl.
“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?”
“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.”
Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?”
“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.”
“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.”
“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs.
He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination.
“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.”
“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind.
“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.”
“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.”
Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes.
“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world.
Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”
“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.”
He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did.
“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.”
“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to?
You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.”
Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk.
His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything.
Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol.
He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say.
He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.”
You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.”
“How do you feel about tequila?”
You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.”
“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.”
Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.”
“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.”
“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.”
“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.”
“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles.
“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.
And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows.
“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.”
Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be.
#me ignoring all my wips for a hot man?? it's more likely than you think#also ive listened to too sweet on repeat for like 3 hours i dont want to take my whiskey neat anymore#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner imagine#sadie writes
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just had the crazy thought in the middle of trader joes🫣 bf!ino begging reader to let sukuna fuck her infront of him😵💫 i just know sukuna would agree to the idea so fast😭
but anyways i hope you're doing alright❤️
as soon as I read this request I went feral btw I haven't written anything this quickly in a while KGHJFLSGHSKA thank you so much for this nonnie I hope u enjoy and I hope ur doing well 💕
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), cucking, cuck!ino, coercion, dry humping, male masturbation, daddy!kink, oral m+f receiving, head pushing, fingering, calls your pussy 'she', overstimulation, vaginal sex, hair pulling, creampie, squirting.
words: 3.9k
He’s waiting.
He’s been waiting since he got to your apartment.
You and Takuma have never been coy around each other, no matter who’s around. What was meant to be a chill movie night with a few drinks and some weed has really just been you and him making out on the couch, dizzied by the alcohol and drugs coursing through your system.
And still, Sukuna has been waiting.
Waiting for his friend to ask what he’s been waiting to ask.
“I love you…” you whisper, or at least you think you do. It’s louder than intended. What was meant to be breathy love language reserved solely for your partner has garnered Sukuna’s attention, too.
And rather than your boyfriend returning your words. He looks at you, no, through you. His pink haired friend looks at him coldly out of the corner of his eye.
Waiting.
You’re bold, though. When he doesn��t speak right away, you grab his face and pinch his cheeks until his lips are puckering. His warm brown eyes gaze down at you, his concentration fully broken from Sukuna, now.
“I said: I love you, Takuma.” you repeat.
“Baby…” he grins and bites his lip before kissing you softly. “You know I love you too.” he assures you, his head lowering to kiss along your jawline. You can’t repress the gentle moan you emit as you feel his hand travel up your baggy t-shirt and hold your side just below your breast, his thumb stroking across your ribs.
“How much?” you wonder, eyes heavy and bloodshot as you wait for a response. He looks at you again, a little puzzled that you’d even ask.
“How much?” he quirks his brow. “How much do you love me, baby? Tell me… Wanna hear ya,” he smirks.
“More than anything… I’d do anything for you, Takuma. I love you s’much.” you say slowly, pridefully. Adoration interspersed with your casual tone makes his cock throb. His eyes are full as he hears you tell him with ease how much you love him.
Before he can say anything, though, Ino’s eyes stray at the sound of his friend stirring in his spot on the couch. He’s hunched over, lighter in one hand and spliff in the other. He lights it, almost too quickly, and he’s soon leaning back again. His red eyes stare daggers at Ino, his expression is unreadable, but Ino knows the intent behind his glare.
He's waiting, but he’s losing patience.
“Maybe we should go to bed early.” you hint to your boyfriend, wiggling your eyebrows at him in hopes he’ll understand your meaning.
He does.
But instead of looking excited, or interested, he looks between you and your friend. Sukuna exhales a hearty plume of smoke into the air, resting the crown of his head back onto the couch as he stares at the ceiling. The movie is of no interest to any of you, now. You want some alone time with Takuma, and Sukuna is considering leaving.
“W-Wait,” he mutters, cupping your face with both hands and searching your loving gaze. “Anything, really? You mean it?”
“… Well… yeah. I- I guess, yeah. Is something wrong?” you wonder, worry and paranoia flooding through you before you know it. You can feel your heart beginning to beat faster, until his thumbs gently rub against your cheeks. You’re instantly soothed, and further relaxed when you feel a gentle press of your boyfriend’s lips against your own.
“No, baby, nothin’. You’re perfect. You’re always so perfect f’me…” he says, kindly, and you can’t stop the cheesy grin that works its way across your face when you hear him. You lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls away suddenly. “There’s… something… I wanna do. Well, I wanna try.” he explains.
You sit up a little as you look at him, curiosity filling you. You briefly look at Sukuna, almost forgetting he's there until you hear him toss his lighter onto the coffee table.
“If you wanna fuck tonight. Maybe we can try it now…” he starts, sheepishly. His words become dry in his throat and lost in the atmosphere. You’re a little embarrassed that he’s proposing something about your sex life in front of your mutual friend, but you try and ignore his presence. You’re all high, it doesn’t really matter.
“What is it, baby?” you whisper. You close the distance between the two of you, kissing his cheek repeatedly as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s a passionate bid to give him the confidence he needs to tell you what’s on his mind.
There’s no delicate way for him to ask you what he wants to ask. It’s so perverse, so lewd and debauched. He feels guilty for even thinking it. But it’s rotting his brain.
He keeps breathing, his words dissipating on his tongue as he finds and loses the ability to say what’s he’s dying to say.
“C’mon, baby… you can tell me.” you smile. You start to get nervous again as you can tell he’s wrestling with his thoughts. You have no idea what he could be thinking. It’s a worry, though, thinking your boyfriend has some depraved kink he’s about to spill in front of you as well as his friend.
Why is he doing this now?
“I um… fuck. I— babe, I just. I think it would be… f-fun. Uhhhh…”
“Ask her already.” a dark growl reverberates through your body as you’re once again reminded you aren’t alone. Sukuna stands to his feet, bending down to stub out his joint before he moves behind you. You gasp as you feel his fingers on your jaw forcing your head in place as he keeps your eyes on Takuma’s. “Look at your girl and ask her your dirty favour, pussy.”
Ino gulps, eyes flitting between yours and his. And still, even now, he can’t bring himself to ask. Sukuna gives him time. Plenty of time, before ultimately scoffing. You whimper a little as your head jerks to face him. His hand squeezes your face, not to dissimilarly to what you had done to Takuma moments prior. Your lips puckering as he levels his face with your own.
“He has a weird fetish, princess. He wants to see another man fuck the love of his life. Ain’t that strange?” he smirks, darkly.
You think you’ve misheard him. He lets go of your face and you snap your gaze to see Ino. He’s blushing furiously and has seemingly lost the ability to speak. He can barely even look at you. And that is enough proof, but still.
“Really?” you ask, you try your best to stay calm. It’s a little stern, but casual enough to not seem like a big deal.
“… Y-Yeah. AGH!” he yells as your hand slaps across his face, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. He looks at you, he seemed ready to yell at you until he sees tears welling in your eyes. “B-Baby? Don’t… Don’t hate me, please. I—”
“You— did you invite him here tonight for this? You told him before me… How—”
“Wait, wait. It wasn’t like that!” he stops you. “We were just, ugh, what was it? Oh, porn! We were talking about different categories and I said I’d been watching some, y’know, cuck shit. S’dumb, I’m so sorry. But I just watched it because I was curious and then I started thinking about it everyday and I thought about us trying it ‘n I just said all that shit to him when I was stoned.”
“So?” you respond. “You invited him over ‘n got me drunk and high ‘n thought I’d just say yes?!”
“No. Well… maybe… a little…” he says, voice trailing off as he thinks about the whole thing a little further. “Shit, I was scared to ask. Because it’s fucking weird and I know it’s weird. I feel like a fucking freak for this, baby. What kinda guy wants to see another dude fuck his girl? It’s weird.”
You don’t speak again for a while, letting him simmer in what he’s saying. It’s not that you are outwardly against it, but you’re not intoxicated enough to ignore how wrongly he went about this. And it’s hard to ignore Sukuna’s looming figure beside you, he’s so intimidating without even trying.
“… Please don’t hate me.” he mumbles as he stares down at his feet. “It’s been driving me crazy, y’know. Thinking about how hot you’d look like that.”
“It’s your decision.” Sukuna says, dropping to the balls of his feet to look at you again. “It’s just sex, sweetheart. I can make you feel good, ‘n you’ll make me feel good. And I think it’ll make that perverted boyfriend of yours feel good, too.”
You look into his eyes as he speaks. It’s not like you’ve never thought of it before. He’s a giant, he’s huge and he has the aura of a man who knows how to fuck. You aren’t dissatisfied in your sex life with Takuma in the least. But everyone has fantasies, right? Everyone has thoughts on what they might be missing out on.
“B-Baby? Please. Just once, I just wanna try it once.” Takuma tells you. It’s a little pathetic how desperate he sounds. And for some twisted reason, it turns you on. How he’s begging to see you receive pleasure at the hands of another man.
You’ve somehow managed to romanticise this depravity. Because now, you feel good about this. Whether intentional or not, Takuma Ino has made you feel like a goddess.
And so, dumbly, you find yourself nodding. His eyes light up, confusion, elation, and unadulterated lust flows through him. You’re caught off guard as Sukuna cups your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before grabbing under the bend of your knee and letting it roam up the back of your thigh.
“N-Now?!” you ask in a panic, breaking the kiss before he returns it once more.
“Yes. Now.” Sukuna tells you, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the couch he had been sitting on. You’re straddling him, rolling your hips unashamedly as he smirks into your kiss. “You’re soaked, princess.” he says. It’s quiet, but loud enough for Ino to hear.
He palms himself over his sweats as he watches you both, a sultry moan leaves you as you feel rough hands squeeze the fat of your tits over your t-shirt. He tugs at your nipple, licking into your mouth as he pulls away.
“Suck daddy’s cock, baby. Heard you’re a pro.” he grins.
You shuffle off of his lap and between his legs. He goes to undo his belt before you beat him to sit. He interlocks his fingers behind his head as he watches you. He swears if he had blinked he would have missed how quickly you freed his length. Your eyes bulge as it springs out from it’s denim prison and you pull down his jeans and underwear in tandem.
He doesn’t give you any time to marvel at his gargantuan size before he’s lacing his fingers through your hair and guiding his cock to your lips. He’s massive, you feel it as each agonising inch sinks into your mouth and nudges at the back of your throat.
He moans boisterously as you struggle to accommodate him, head rolling back as he looks up at the ceiling above. He chuckles, pushing your head again and again to set a pace for himself, barely considering your lung capacity or pleasure in the least.
His eyes are heavy, lust drunk and purposeful as he looks down at you. Your own are watery and pathetic. You’re overwhelmed and yet you can’t help but chase a desperate desire to please him. You want to impress him, you want him to feel good.
You’re both reminded of your actual boyfriend’s presence when he moans pathetically. Your teeth graze Sukuna’s cock and he hisses at the sensation.
“Focus on me.” he tells you, voice gravelly and intimidating before his eyes move to look at Ino. “Are you really getting off on this? Fucking pervert. Your girlfriend’s choking on my cock and you look like you’re gonna blow your load. Y’think that’s normal?”
“S-Shut up.” he moans softly, the all too familiar sound of sticky, aroused skin fapping fills the room.
You feel your cunt grow wetter by the second. The intense knowledge of everything going on in the room is sending your self esteem into overdrive. You’re doing it for Takuma. And you want to make Sukuna proud.
“Here…” Sukuna grabs his phone. You panic as you see him point it down at you, unwillingly to let him keep video evidence of this twisted transgression. He holds your head down with ease with his free hand, and it’s all you can do to focus on breathing through your nose. You begin to calm as you feel another phone ring behind you. “Answer.” Sukuna instructs.
Ino scrambles to answer the incoming call, moaning further when he sees the perfect first person view of your mouth stuffed full of his best friend’s dick.
“Give him a show baby, he likes it.” Sukuna growls, cupping the crown of your head as he allows you to bob your head at your own pace. “You really are a good little cocksucker. Might have to keep you. Doesn’t she look pretty, Ino?”
“S-So pretty, baby. Fuck, look at ya…” he breathes, slowing down on his own pleasure so he doesn’t cum too fast.
“Look at her squirming, think she’s enjoying all the attention. Is your little pussy dripping ‘cause you’re our pretty star tonight?” he smirks. And at that, you nod. You can’t help yourself. Despite you being the one to please him, you’re completely at his mercy. “Mmm, think I wanna see for myself.” he tells you, yanking you away from his length by your roots.
You gasp, breathless with an aching jaw as you get used to your mouth being your own again. He coos at you, red eyes softening as he admires your drool soaked face.
“Look at what I’ve done to your girl.” Sukuna says as he manhandles you.
He picks you up and turns you so that you’re able to make eye contact with your boyfriend. Ino looks up from his phone so he can observe you with his own eyes. Your eye makeup has streaked beautifully down your cheeks. Your lips are swollen and dampened with slick drool and precum. He has to stop touching himself completely when he looks into your shimmering eyes. They’re filled with water and emotion, the sight of you is better than he ever imagined.
“Say thank you, sweetheart.” Sukuna commands and he firmly grips your jaw. “Gotta say thank you to your boyfriend for letting you have the time of your life with me.”
“T-Thank you, Takuma… thank you.”
“Aw… you’re both a little pathetic, hm? But that’s okay.” Sukuna snarls as he picks you up again, tossing you onto the couch like you’re nothing. You’re a weightless object for him to do with as he pleases. “Let me see you, princess. I want a taste.” he explains. Soon enough, your panties and shorts disappear from your body and he’s face to face with your bare cunt.
He grabs your hand, forcefully shoving his phone into it so you can show your boyfriend what he’s doing.
It’s humiliating.
Your whole body runs hot as he loops his arms around your thighs and buries his face between your legs. A powerful moan rips through you as he gently pulls up the hood of your clit and targets it with a darted tongue.
Tears spill over your eyes as you try to close your legs, much to his dismay, and he pries them apart with ease. He doesn’t let up, your whole body trembling uncontrollably as he continues his assault.
You hold the phone with one hand as the other cards through his pretty pink locks. And at that, he moans. The timbre of his voice vibrates against your skin.
“B-Baby?” Ino speaks, quietly, “Feel good?”
“Fucking. Amazing.” you announce, unashamedly. Your toes curl as you feel two thick fingers delve into your hot cunt. It’s too much. You feel like you might burst as his fingers curl and you try desperately to escape the onslaught. But one muscular bicep around your thigh is more than enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.
“You’re staying right here, sweetheart.” he tells you casually before looking up at you. “You won’t cum if you run away from me.”
“Hnnnng, fuck.” you respond, embarrassingly. All semblance of thought leaves you in the form of slippery slick pooling out of your cunt as he finger fucks you relentlessly. He smirks as he watches, slurping up your juices with obscene satisfaction.
“Pretty little pussy, she’s flutterin’ for me. Just cum for daddy, know you wanna.” he grins.
You’re barely able to think as he immediately swipes his tongue over your throbbing clit. His fingers work in tandem to hammer against your g-spot before you begin to squirm uncontrollably.
“Fu- nngh! D-Daddy! Haah~!” you cry out repeatedly, chanting a slew of daddy’s before you feel your body start to crumble and fall slack. You pant heavily, the phone you were holding a distant memory as the only thing on Ino’s screen is a shot of the ceiling.
He’s holding back, again. Ogling your body as he sees sweat droplets beading on your skin. Your entire body is relaxed, calm. You’re wholly spent and satisfied for the evening, you do nought but watch Sukuna repeatedly pepper kisses on your inner thighs.
“You look happy,” he tells you as he looks up.
“You’re… you’re good at that…” you say, finally feeling shame wash over you as you realise you just came on your boyfriend’s best friend’s face. “That was—”
“Was? Didn’t say we’re done, baby.” he cuts you off. Before you can ask what he means, he’s pulling you onto the ground with him by your wrist. “I didn’t get to cum yet, did you really think we were through here?”
“S-Shit, sorry!” you gasp, utterly powerless as he bends you over the coffee table. Even if your body wasn’t so relaxed, you’d still be a ragdoll to him.
“He needs to see your face while I ruin this beautiful cunt.” he smirks, parting your legs with his muscular thigh. He tuts as he observes your form, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “What is this, baby? I know no one else has made you cum that hard but you need to look pretty when you have an audience.” he explains.
He pulls your hair aggressively until your back is in a beautiful arch. Your fingers grip desperately onto the sides of the coffee table, your tits squashed against the cool glass breaks your body temperature as you’re unsure of whether you’re freezing cold or boiling hot.
Your body soon flushes again as you feel Sukuna guide his heavy tip to your entrance. He teases your hole repeatedly, the sticky tacking sound is the only thing that can be heard; alongside Ino’s self-pleasure.
He grunts as he slams into you with a powerful thrust. Your eyes cross and you feel as though you could pass out from the pressure brewing in your core.
“Fuuuuuuck, tiny princess cunt’s a tight li’l hugger.” he tells you before holding onto your hips with a bruising grip. Your ass and thighs ripple with each brutal deliverance from his desperate humping.
This, now, isn’t for you. If you feel pleasure, that is a bonus. You feel it in the way he savagely pounds into your wet walls, you are his toy that is designed to make him cum.
“You look so pretty, babe. D-Does it feel good? Y’look so fucked out.” Ino smirks, biting his lip as his fist becomes a blur. “Can you— describe it for me, baby.” he requests.
“Unfff, f-fuck. He’s— I feel— him— here.” you tell him before pointing to your throat. He lets out a guttural moan at that, and if your mind wasn’t already so hazy, you’d be amazed that he was truly getting off on this.
“Glad he’s making you feel s’good, babe. Knew he would…” he trails off. “Are you gonna let him fill you up?” he asks, face dropping a little as he hears a scoff from Sukuna.
“Tch. Sick bastard.” he says in response. He bends over, his sweat coated skin presses into your back and he continues to desperately hump into you like a primal animal. He moves your hair aside as he sensually bites and kisses your earlobe. You could just about cum when you feel him lick the skin behind your ear, tangled with an amalgamation of eager, determined moans. “He wants me to breed you like an animal. Would ya like that, princess? Can daddy fill your precious little pussy up?”
You nod, quickly. Your vision blurry as you think you might be genuinely about to pass out from the pleasure. You’re utterly blinded by it. The feeling of his cock bullying itself into you and repeatedly kissing your sweet spot is like no other feeling you’ve experienced before.
And still, even in your cock drunk mind, you can’t help but wonder how you’ll ever be able to live without feeling him inside of you again.
He pulls your body up with his own, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing just enough to keep you barely conscious. You’re pointlessly grabbing for anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. His free hand rubs your clit vigorously, and you know you’re soon to be a goner.
“That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl, milk daddy’s cock jus’ like that. Juuus’ like that. So tight f’me, mmmpf, so fucking tight for me. Perfect pussy’s not gonna let me go. Gonna cum with me, yeah? Come on, cum on daddy’s cock, make a big mess. Umpf, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
He practically roars, feeling not an ounce of shame as he fucks his thick, heavy load into you. You’re no better, though, whining pathetically as a waterfall gushes from between your legs for the first time in your life. It arouses Ino more than anything ever has in his entire life, so at that, he finally let’s go. Coating his hand in shimmering white globs as he watches Sukuna forcefully make out with you through your high.
Sukuna pulls you back with him as he sits on the couch with you on his lap, pulling out of your hot, sullied cunt as the mixture of clear liquid and pearlescent sperm drips from your throbbing hole. He slaps his cock against your clit, your entire body jolting with each repeated smack.
“Did you— fuck, baby, that was perfect… Did you have fun?” Ino asks, almost breathlessly as he wipes the mess from his hand on his sweatpants.
Sukuna looks up at your near lifeless body, you don’t even have the energy to look at either of them let alone speak. He smirks, at that, before turning his attention to Ino.
“Don’t think she’s ever been fucked so good in her life,” Sukuna grins. “I don’t think you’re gonna have a girlfriend for much longer.”
© 2024 rinhaler
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#sukuna x reader#ino x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#anime smut#female reader#sub reader#jjk x fem!reader#tw dubcon#tw drugs#tw alcohol consumption#tw cucking#tw coercion#tw daddy kink#tw hair pulling
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congrats on 1k again mel 🤍 i'm so proud of u!!
i'm requesting for ur event: the lyrics "you make me wanna fall in love" from "juno" by sabrina, and the driver is oscar piastri
౨ৎ MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ‧˚. OP81
౨ৎ PART OF MY 1K EVENT & my short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ
summary — you said it was casual, but you both knew it wasn’t. he liked to tell people that he’s certainly not in love with you, so maybe you just had to make him fall in love.
a/n — thank you so much for your constant support ml🥹 im not too happy with how this turned out, but i hope you enjoy reading anyway <3 based on the song ‚juno’ by sab!
warnings — kinda smutty?? jealous!oscar, making out, very suggestive, hints of angst, english isn’t my first language, not proofread
It really wasn’t your fault.
You decided to keep it casual as to not get him into any drama, so that people know his focus was keen on racing - becoming a world champion and whatnot - and also for your sake, because the hate, if you weren’t used to it, really could become unbearable, and the last thing Oscar wanted was for you to have to deal with any of that, you were just way too precious to him for that. So the decision was made. No strings attached.
Stupid, right? No strings attached is something to settle on before being all the way into it. Because at that point of your relationship, there was no way to keep it casual anymore. The only way was to take a few things that had been said two or three times too often back. To leave it all behind and really only do those things for ‚urgent needs‘ . No more spending the night or cooking together or meeting up without the friend group or sneaking away from said friend group just so he could finally rip the dress you had been teasing him with all night right off of you. But he had other plans, he seemed to just keep going with it. Telling you how much he missed you every time he was back from the long weekends, repeating the same three words over and over again as he makes his way down your thighs, kissing every clothed and unclothed spot he could reach from under you.
The first time it happened it was simply an accident, at least that’s what you told everyone. At least that’s what you told yourselves. But your touch and perfume still lingered even after a week, so the next time you saw each other at a birthday party of one of your mutual friends, Oscar couldn’t keep his hands off you either. Confessions of being attracted were spoken out loud and the only thing keeping you from taking it farther was nothing more than a mental holdback. You were scared of the public. He was scared to see you hurt because of that.
After a weekend during summer break spent together you asked him to finally decide on where to go on from this. He blurted out that he’s not in love, so there was no reason for things to get complicated. Your breath hitched. Casual hookups was what he said. Friends with benefits, you chuckled, seemingly angreeing with him as to not make this situation any weirder, even if it hurt just a tiny bit. But he was right. You had a different idea of a perfect life than he had. Racing was his passion, being in the spotlight was part of the sport, and you couldn’t even handle having to hold presentations in class because you hated being the center of attention. You two were just too different.
So yes. It is his fault! Because if he’s really, after all these lovey-dovey moment shared, still not in love — like you admittedly were — then he should stop acting like he did. Why would he get you flowers every few weeks? Why would he gift you a whole vacation with your best friend including hotel, trips and things a sane person wouldn’t even ask for for your birthday, and the rest of your friends would only get a normal birthday card and occasionally whatever small thing they had wished for? If you were really just casual, then why did he treat you as if none of this was ever just casual at all? Why did he treat you like his girlfriend if he so confidently stated that he’s not in love with you just months ago?
He couldn’t expect you not to want him to fall for you too if he was the one who made you fall for him in the first place. As if the “casual” sex wasn’t enough already, he just had to do the most romantic shit for you as to not let you get over him at all. He wanted to play with your head, he made it obvious. Too many mixed signs, too many actions done but too little words said. Lucky for you and for him, two can play the game.
If he was sooo sure he’s not in love with you, which he just had to be, maybe you just had to make him realize his loss if he ever lost you. You had to make sure he knew that you were desired also by men who weren’t him, and since it‘s his fault you fell for him in the first place, he should be the one who has to face he consequences of not loving you back.
In other words, a little jealousy clearly wouldn’t hurt him.
You were getting ready in the bathroom of your apartment together with your best friend, “juno“ by Sabrina Carpenter playing in the background while you gossiped about whatever came to mind — including Oscar and you. It was a secret to everybody else, but not to her. She was the one you cried to after Oscar told you he didn’t have feelings for you.
You finished up your makeup with some lipgloss, and once you were final,y content with your accessories and outfits, you made your way over to your friend’s, jack’s, birthday. Everybody was there, including Oscar. And Lando. His only ally and his biggest rival. If that didn’t make him crack, then nothing would, but you decided to try, at least. Lando and you got along alright already when you had only just met, and he was the first man to point out that Oscar and you aren’t just friends, right?
So when you suddenly put your hand on his arm, slowly rubbing up and down his biceps, he was confused at first, and then caught up on your quick nod in Oscar‘s direction while holding eye contact with him. Lando didn’t mean to do him any harm, but as much as he loved his teammate, he would never be one to turn down an opportunity to mess with him like this, especially not if he knew it would, at last, make Oscar snap so he didn‘t have to listen to his hopeless whining about his relationship with you being oh so complicated. Just ball up and confess, man.
It was innocent at first. Just simple touches, your hand on his chest for just a tiny second because you needed something to steady yourself on as your reached behind him to grab your drink from the small table the couch stood in front of, or his arm around your waist when you all stood next to each other to take a round of shots. Lando was certainly amused and your best friend was winking and giggling at you the whole night, seemingly loving your plan, because Oscar was definitely reacting.
His blood was boiling and he wanted to punch that smug look right off of Lando‘s face. How dare he touch you when he knew that Oscar, his own teammate, loved you?
Oscar thought it was better like this. Playing pretend instead of facing the truth, and he was pretty damn good at doing so. He was sure you believed him when he said that he doesn‘t want your relationship to include anything other than moments of lust, he thought it was easier that way. He thought it would make things less complicated, thought he could live his life without having to put you in any danger, live his life without needing you by his side every second of his damned life if he just put some boundaries. Surprise! It only made things worse, plus apparently, guys seemed to think you were available now, thought they could have you like only he can. And it made him fucking furious.
So when you stood up to pour yourself another drink in the kitchen, he followed, of course not before shooting the other driver for McLaren a death glare. Lando sighed and leanded back in his seat, happy to see your man finally making a real move. He hoped so, at least. Oscar closed the door after entering. It was only you two now.
“Fancy another beer?“ You asked calmly, but the feeling in your stomach was far from calm. This could end in complete rejection, maybe he could see right through your façade and thought you were childish for doing this? But how could you not?! Oscar himself made you do it with his mix of signs every damn time you saw each other!
He shook his head.
The tension between you was palpable as he watched your every move, back turned to him. You felt awkward, but tried to ignore it. The light was dim, and you could still feel the bass vibrating through the floor and the walls coming from the speakers in the living room. Was music this loud even allowed at this hour?
You finished pouring yourself some more champagne when you saw him walking over to you in the reflection of the glass cupboard in front of you. You sucked in a breath, not daring to say anything, feeling slightly hazy from the alcohol you‘ve drunken in the past few hours already. His cologne became starker as he stepped closer to you, eyes closed as you let the familiar smell of him take over you completely. You only opened them again once you realized he caged you between himself and the counter, pressing himself against your behind. He started softly kissing down your neck behind your ear, almost tickling you with how light his lips felt against your hot skin. You wanted this, you wanted him. But his touch wasn’t nearly enough, you wanted all of him, and not just his body. Every yet so little interaction you had during the evening left you with butterflies going crazy in your tummy, yet he never seemed affected, not until Lando came into view. Did he really only want your body and not more?
“What were you doing with him, y/n?”
Nothing but a moan left your mouth as he gently bit into your skin, sucking on your sweet spot as you subconsciously rubbed up against him. You didn’t even want to reply, you just wanted him to keep caressing your skin with his mouth. “Tell me what you were doing with Lando, huh, baby? What were you thinking?”
“Oscar I-“
“Keep talking or I’ll stop,” he whispered as he made his way down your back and then back up your shoulder, kissing and mouthing at every spot. Thankfully your best friend had convinced you to wear the backless top, you thought.
You huffed. This felt so humiliating, but you couldn’t keep going like this, not when he makes you feel like this and then leaves like nothing ever happened. You lived a lie and it was time to stop.
“I was trying to make you jealous so that you would finally stop and do something!”
Oscar’s furrowed his eyebrows and stopped in his tracks, hands still on you. What were you talking about The tension came crashing down onto your body once again, his doing not distracting you anymore. You seemed to want to have this conversation, and Oscar could easily put some of his lust away in moments like these. You didn’t get a reply, the cue for you to turn around and face him. You were still caged between him and the counter, his hands steady on either side of you now as he leaned down to look at you. you couldn’t focus like this, not with him so close to you and with the alcohol running through your body like blood. You looked up at him with doe eyes, prettily batting your lashes even if your mascara was slightly smudged already.
“Stop what? Talk to me, please. I didn’t like seeing you with him,” he looked concerned. Worried even, worried about what he might have done wrong. He wanted to be with you, keep you as his, so why would you want to stop being exactly that?
“Why don‘t you love me?“ You whispered, tears forming in your eyes. You hated it, but it was inevitable. The confrontation was overwhelming you anyway, and being under the influence managed to make it a lot worse. Your hands were all shaky and so was your every breath as you anticipated his reaction, expecting rejection but still hoping for more.
“I- What? Why would you think that?“
“Maybe because you literally said so?“
“Uhm, okay fair point. Listen y/n,“ he sighed, and you could practically hear your heartbeat throbbing inside your chest. He thought for a second, but didn‘t say a thing. Instead, he grabbed your face and kissed you like never before, he kissed you with more than just passion, he kissed you with love. his fingers wiped away a tear that had rolled down your face, kissing and holding you as gently as he could. “Don‘t cry on me, y/n, please don‘t,“ he begged as he now kissed down your cleavage, leaving lovebites on your collarbones. “Was just being stupid, didn‘t wanna hurt you baby, thought long distance is too hard,“ he said something, anything to make you understand that the only reason he didn’t confess was because he was scared of his life not being compatible with yours, and not because he didn’t love you.
You smiled into the kiss once he reached your lips again. You‘d have to talk about it more tomorrow morning after taking some aspirin, you knew, after all, that you‘d go back home with him. It wasn‘t enough to make it official, you weren‘t boyfriend and girlfriend, but you finally had the guarantee that he felt the same way, that he loved you just like you did him.
Oscar swore himself at that exact moment, when he felt you smiling while his lips were dancing against yours, that he would never make you feel so unloved again. It wasn’t his intention in the first place, but seeing your beautiful eyes filled with tears because of him made his heart shatter, and he never wants to see you like that again, not if he was the reason for your pain. And even though you did have to make him realize through making him jealous, you certainly didn’t have to make him fall in love with you.
Because he already was.
౨ৎ general taglist / sns taglist ::
@norrisdriver / @1655clean
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#lando norris x y/n#oscar piastri smut#op81#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri x y/n#lando norris fluff#smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1#formula one x reader#oscar piastri imagine#juno#sabrina carpenter#oscar piastri x lando norris#lando norris x reader#formula 1#lando norris#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fanfic#short ‘n sweet#౨ৎ mel’s 1k#౨ৎ mel’s short ‘n sweet series
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I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Bonus)
Paige wants to try scissoring, but she’s too shy to tell you.
Paige Bueckers x Reader
Masterlist
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Word Count: 1.2k
Themes: smut, humor, fluff if u squint
A/N: one of my beautiful anons suggested this and I just want to thank whoever it was. This shit is too good. To those who enjoy shy, bottom Paige: you are welcome ;)
~
“Babe,” you say for the third time, trying to catch Paige’s attention, who was deeply engrossed in her cell phone. She had been acting weird all day. She was usually all over you, clinging onto you, trying to get you as close to her as possible. But today, she was glued to her phone, only giving you short answers, and you were starting to get annoyed.
“Madison!” You snap, and her head whips up to meet your furrowed brow with a guilty look on her face.
She smiles sheepishly at you. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, leaving her phone face down on the arm of the couch and coming over to where you were sitting. “Didn’t mean to ignore my pretty girl.”
You look at her suspiciously as she pulls you into her lap, pressing hot, open mouth kisses to your jaw and trailing them down your neck.
You were not an idiot. You had dated multiple conniving liars, and your instincts were never wrong. The situation reeked of something fishy, and you were going to figure it out. You sincerely hoped nothing crazy was going on; you actually really liked Paige.
And because you were a girl with a pulse, you gave into Paige’s mouth, as she drew you in with her unrelenting charm.
God, you were so fucked.
She pulls you into her bedroom to have her way with you, making you forget all about her weird behavior and her abandoned cell phone.
For now at least.
~
The next day rolls around and you are determined to figure out the source of Paige’s odd behavior. You walk into her apartment quietly, giggling to yourself as you imagine spy music in the background as you creep towards her closed door. There was no noise coming from her room, and you were not actually sure if she was in there or not.
Taking a deep breath, you carefully open the door and step into the room. Paige is laying on her stomach with her large headphones covering her ears. Her back is to you, and she is watching something intently on her iPad.
She was always fucking around on that thing.
‘She’s probably playing Roblox again,’ you snicker inside your head before taking another step forward to see what she was looking at.
Your heart stumbles in your chest as you glance over her shoulder to see two girls scissoring in broad daylight on the screen, and you let out a gasp, giving you away.
Paige whips her head around to see you staring at her with your mouth open in shock. Her cheeks bloom with embarrassment, and she rubs a hand across her neck before sending you a sheepish smile. “I can explain?”
You take a seat on her bed, wringing your sweaty hands together. “You know I don’t care that you’re watching porn right? But, like, why?” You ask, still in shock.
Paige sighs, looking back at the paused screen of her iPad that was haphazardly thrown onto her pillows. “I wanted to try scissoring with you. And I’ve never done that shit. And I was scared to bring it up,” she mumbles.
You giggle, and she whines in protest, pushing at your arm. “Not funny,” she pouts.
“Actually, it’s pretty fucking hilarious!” You cackle, poking at her side. “But why didn’t you just tell me? Who was the one who taught you how to use a vibrator?” You say pointedly. “And that was before we were even dating.”
“I know,” she groans, putting her head in her hands. “I just get kinda shy ‘bout this shit.”
“You poor baby,” you coo. “Now, c’mon, let's go scissor.”
Paige looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. “What?”
“Well don’t you want to try it? I’m horny, and I can see you’re soaked through those flimsy sweatpants,” you add, pointing to her crotch.
Her face turns bright red again.
Her sheepishness was divine, and you were eager to show her the many pleasures of scissoring. You were going to leave her absolutely wrecked.
~
Paige’s breathless whines cut through the air as you press hot, wet kisses to her inner thighs. She writhes against her bedsheets, and you continue to tease her.
“You look so pretty all spread out f’me,” you simper, overtly pleased with yourself. No one could get a rise out of her like you.
“Such a fuckin’ tease,” she grunts, throwing an arm across her face. Her hips jump up as you swipe your thumb across her swollen clit in retaliation. “Please, baby,” she cries, thrusting her bottom lip out in a ridiculous pout.
Your own pussy was dripping in excitement, and you doubted you’d be able to hold off much longer, so you decided to show her a little mercy.
“C’mere,” you instruct, pulling her closer and slotting her open legs through yours. Loud gasps ring out as your slick pussies connect as you both adjust to the feeling.
Paige leans forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss before she rolls her hips experimentally, leaving you to moan into her mouth. It was raw, the sheer magnetism exuding out from between the two of you.
Grabbing onto her long, toned leg, you use it to slide her soaked folds against yours, ensuring your clits aligned perfectly. It was erotic, and as you stared at Paige’s heaving body, you felt another gush trickle down onto the soft skin of your inner thighs.
Her mouth is open, head tilted back, as she inhales sharply. Her grip moves to your ass, and she sends a stinging slap to your sensitive skin.
“Fuck,” you moan out, rolling your hips again and watching as your movement sends shockwaves through Paige’s body. Her thighs tremble and her tits bounce as you pull her in close to you, kissing her deeply as you grind against her.
“S’good,” she mumbles against your mouth before a needy whine leaves her lips with another roll of your hips. “Can’t last much longer,” she pants out.
You stroke her cheek, making her look into your eyes as you speed up your movements. The noises were downright filthy as your pussy slid wetly against hers, the friction quickly bringing you to a glorious edge.
Paige cums with your name on her lips, her body shuddering as the pleasure rips through her. Expletives and moans fill the air as you and Paige come down from your highs together.
As your breathing evens out, you reach to move her blonde hair out of her face, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“That was way better than I expected,” she grins, and you laugh.
“Now what are you going to do the next time you wanna try out something new?” You ask, a teasing tone ringing through your voice.
Paige sighs, looking bashful. “I’m gonna tell you instead of watching it on Pornhub.”
You pull her in for another kiss. “That’s my good girl.”
~
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think
xoxo katy
Taglist:
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Want to be added to my taglist? Comment or send me a message!
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers x you#paige x reader#uconn wbb#ive got a wand and a rabbit#paige bueckers smut
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self esteem part 3 - kick and scream (joel x f!reader)
wc: 9.3k | masterlist | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 |
previous (part 2) ⎯ next (part 4)
summary: Joel catches you on a date and communicates how he feels about it (the only way he knows how).
tags/warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, blow job, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), jealous!joel, possessive!joel, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, smash and dash, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak, special guest appearance by date night dave, OOC Dave bc I don’t know that man so I made him single, rich, hot, and pervy idc idc idc, more i might be forgetting rn,
a/n: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration
thanks: to EVERYONE who read part 1 and 2, but ESPECIALLY @auteurdelabre for inspiring, I hope you enjoy it bb. I'll try to tag those who specifically asked for more brb
You stare down at the hand that just landed on your thigh, cocking your head in assessment. You can feel the scowl tugging at the corners of your mouth. As you work out what expression you should paste onto your face instead, the man sitting next to you seems unbothered. Maybe even encouraged? He continues his lecture about the benefits of indoor rock climbing. You sigh, staring across the park as he continues without pausing to breathe.
You watch the couples milling around the park, wondering if that’s what you look like with this guy's hand on your leg. You stare back down at it, his long fingers shifting slightly as he continues his animated speech. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, and you feel fidgety. Trapped under the weight of his limp hand. He doesn’t seem to notice when you squirm and readjust. He’s circled back to his earlier lecture about how you just have to learn to play an instrument. If he’d let you get a word in, you could verify that you already do, but he seems to prefer the sound of his own voice.
This guy should get a podcast. The kind where a guy with a microphone talks to himself for three hours about whatever he wants. He’d crush it. You laugh to yourself, unintentionally encouraging him with your smile. He’s not not good-looking. But you’d prefer someone interested in asking you at least one question.
You stifle a laugh at the intrusive thought of taking him home and stripping his clothes off while he prattles on about amateur bird-watching, sorry–birding, or unicycling.
Eventually, you extricate yourself from the disappointing date, accept an awkward hug, and turn down dinner. You haven’t left the parking lot yet when your phone buzzes.
Unsaved number: had a great time with u
Unsaved number: would love to see u again :)
It’s not that your skin crawls, but it is a full-body no.
You: thanks, I’m glad I got to know you more
It’s not technically a lie. You’re glad you learned he’s not a fit for you. You feel okay about leaving it at that for now. You watch the sunset from your parking spot. The park is filled with couples laying on blankets being romantic. You roll your eyes at them and then at yourself for being bitter. Your phone buzzes again, and you wince, hoping it’s not your long-winded date again. It’s not.
Joel: what you doing?
Fucking Miller. You scoff aloud in the private space of your front seat. By now, he should be on your blocked list, but the quick hit of euphoria that floods through your bloodstream, warming your cheeks, keeps you hooked. He’s a filthy drug that blinds you from logic or survival instincts. Your eyes dart to the pedestrians in the parking lot. Worried. As if the milling strangers know what you’re up to and are about to shame you. A little voice reminds you that if you feel guilty about something, you shouldn’t be doing it. You ignore that voice. Nobody in the parking lot catches on, coast clear, and you let yourself grin wide as a fool when you type your response.
Later that night, you’re grinning again. Sprawled across your couch, sweaty skin plastered to the faux leather cushions. Sated. Bought and sold on your own lie, you tell the little voice that you didn’t want Joel to stay anyway. You convince yourself some form of compromise is happening, however twisted, when he shows up and leaves you wrecked. He comes to you. You don’t have to get to know each other to make each other feel good. Whatever puts you at ease.
Sometimes it works. Some days, you feel hollow and anxious. Obsessively tapping your phone to see if he’s responded when you reach out first. Pacing around your home, stressing over whether you should stay up just in case and even in bed, you can’t help but stay alert for a knock at the door.
The cycle leaves you with dark circles under your eyes most days. But, on the mornings after Joel shows up, you have a bright twinkle in your eyes and a knowing smirk that greets you in the bathroom mirror. Katie noticed the smirk one day and called you out. She demanded an explanation for the mystery dick fairy.
You wouldn’t admit his identity to her, afraid of getting too involved with someone in her boyfriend's network. But you did admit to the toxic cycle, and your friend was not as amused as you when you tried to pass it off as a joke. She tried to convince you to look for someone to date, but you argued that wasn’t what you wanted anyway. She suggested at least someone who could commit to a plan or send a text back. You knew it didn’t sound great out loud.
As the days of summer crawl along, you wonder if she’s right. At least, it was worth considering. It’s a feeble attempt to smother your spiraling thoughts about Joel. Still, when you start getting messages from the dating app Katie chose for you, it gives you something to interrupt your racing thoughts. At first. Somehow, it starts to feel even worse. Ignoring the sinking feeling you get when it isn’t Joel’s name in your notifications gets more challenging.
You had accepted that it was a lost cause to plan anything with him, but you still can’t find the self-respect to turn him away when he shows up at your door. Sometimes, he sends you a grammatically inconsiderate text. You wonder if he somehow has a cell phone plan that still charges him by the message with the way he uses as few words as possible.
He never stays. Never invites you to his. He evades any predictable behavior. Maybe he’s worried someone ordered a hit on him. Maybe that’s all it is, you muse. Not a contracted kill. The unpredictability. Chaos. That’s what makes him addictive. The brightness of the highs makes you temporarily forget the darkest lows exist. That, and the dirty little thoughts that pour from his mouth and drip into your psyche. That stupid, sexy voice burning into your memory, yeah, that’s definitely addictive. You snort at that. I am unwell, you think. As you pick up your phone again, you see a message from someone new.
\\\///
Heat radiates off your face as you fling another shirt across the room. You’ve tried on the same three outfits over and over again. Ripping them over your head and tossing them into the pile of laundry purgatory. Maybe sweating and mouth-breathing is a turn-on for your date; if so, you’re gonna nail the first impression. You sigh and commit to option two: the little black dress. A classic, right?
“Shit,” you curse at yourself when you stumble while attempting to pull your shoes on as you walk down the hall. This is what you get for agreeing to a late evening date on a weeknight; you feel like a mess. Scrambling to play it cool and classy, you pause to recalibrate before opening the door. What was his name? You can’t remember. He didn’t look like your usual type, but Katie had convinced you to branch out a little. More specifically, she told you it was a green flag already if he wasn’t your type.
You swing the door open, hoping he introduces himself first. He looks expensive. The dark-washed denim, the boots, the jacket, and the watch. Like he walked out of an ad campaign for a brand out of your budget. Dave. He does introduce himself, thankfully. He’s more clean-cut than your usual type, but he speaks confidently and gives off an air of put-togetherness that intrigues you. His voice definitely stirs the butterflies in your stomach.
Oh. You realize you’ve definitely been busy staring at him and have no idea what he actually said with his sultry bedroom voice. Your eyes widen a little. You don’t wanna fuck this up and embarrass yourself. Luckily, he seems unbothered. He tilts his head with a seductive half-smile. He’s enjoying the way you assess him. That definitely does it for you. Stupid, smug men making you weak in the knees.
“You ready?” he asks, voice all smoky for no good reason.
“Yeah,” you manage to say as you recall how to speak and act human. Until you see his luxury car waiting for you. He clocks your beat of hesitance.
“Good.”
His authoritative voice flips the right switch in you, and you let him lead. When he opens the door for you, it’s like the final component of his spell. You are bewitched. Under a thick veil, you didn’t even notice the truck that rolled by as you sank into the leather seat. You didn’t notice when the truck pulled over up the block, idling noisily on the quiet street. No, you were busy, focused on manually breathing and taking in what you’d describe as the interior of a spaceship.
The good news is that Dave is charming. He is easy to talk to as he drives. Flirty and quick-witted. He asks you questions and pauses to consider your responses. You aren’t sure you have much in common, but you like his self-assured demeanor.
When you walk into the club he’s brought you to, you hesitate once again, feeling underdressed. The club is split with a lounge on one side of the bar–full of intimate booths and plush chairs surrounding tiny tables and trendy mood lighting. Kind of like a swanky hotel lobby, you decide. On the other side of the bar is a dance floor, dimly lit with loud music blasting. Women in bodycon dresses and heels fill the room. You feel plain in comparison.
“I didn’t know there was a dress code,” you mutter.
“There isn’t,” Dave asserts, “besides, you look good in this.” He accentuates his statement by running his hand down your spine. It settles some of your nerves and lights up others. He ushers you, hand on your lower back, towards a small booth. And as you settle in, he’s undeniably charismatic. Dave doesn’t reveal much about himself but keeps you laughing and seems genuinely interested in you.
Despite the loud music and people noise, it’s easy to feel like the room is only for you and him. You sip your drink and warm up to his affection. You’re quick to smile, and despite how serious he seems, he has a playful edge that has you on your toes.
You can taste the chemistry between you, bright and sparkling. He spurs your confidence with his dark eyes when he not so subtly lets his gaze linger on your body. You stop shying away from attention and try to bask in it instead. It boosts your ego and stirs up your desire.
When you let yourself look, really look, you decide Dave is handsome. His strong features, broad shoulders, and impeccable grooming work for him. He seems meticulous but not too uptight to have fun. A dark sense of humor flirts behind his twinkling dark eyes. You decide to let him know that you’ve determined he is a handsome man. He gives you a look. Like he already knew you thought that. Your cheeks warm slightly at that. Were you obvious?
It’s not until he peels away from you to refill your drinks that you notice how close you have been sitting. You mourn the loss of his body heat as he walks away. You had low expectations after your last few dates, but tonight, this feels different. Your eyes trail along his path to the bar, and you lazily rest your chin in your palm before your breath hitches, and you freeze.
You feel like you’ve swallowed a bowling ball. It’s lodged in your throat first, then constricting your chest, until finally, it sinks. A heavy, solid weight flipping your stomach. You’re locked on a different set of dark eyes. They’re glowering at you through lowered brows from across the room. Seated at the same bar where Dave ordered your drinks.
Joel stares at you over his drink. He downs the glass without taking his eyes off of you. One quirked brow, asking really?
Really what? Is he judging you? For what, being on a date?
Another glass replaces his empty tumbler, but he doesn’t acknowledge the bartender or the rest of the world.
This fucking guy.
The bowling ball in your gut mutates into something fiery. But, you have nothing to be guilty about. It’s not your fault he’s alone, bitter, and drinking at a bar full of people having more fun than him. In fact, you could say it’s his fault that you’re both here.
A scowl forms on Joel’s face when Dave slides back into the booth beside you. Good. You hope he suffers. You hope he sees how easy it is for someone to treat you well. And how happy you look.
You don’t hesitate to lean your body against Dave, giving in to your urges. You squeeze his arm when he makes you laugh, and your touch lingers. He preens under your admiration when you comment on his firm biceps. He is quick to match your advances. Finding excuses to brush your hair behind your ear and settling a heavy palm on your knee. His hand creeps a little higher up your thigh but doesn’t graze the hem of your dress. Respectful. That’s different.
You don’t need to look again to feel Joel’s eyes burning into you. It incites you that he has the audacity. The gall to make faces at you for showing up on a date. You decide you’ll give Joel something to scowl about, feeling emboldened by your date’s touch.
You slide Dave’s hand further up your leg, letting go when he gets the idea. You reach for your drink, feigning nonchalance, but your breath catches, and your hand trembles when he traces his fingertips around the crease of your thigh. He skirts beneath the hem of your underwear, drawing lines over your hip and back towards your center.
The soft touch tickles deliciously, and you feel the anticipation building in your core. He watches your expression, hawklike, noting the tiniest details in the features of your face. He notes when your breath stutters or your eyelids flutter softly.
“This what you wanted?” he husks, still watching intently. Yes, yes, yes!
“Almost,” you toy. Something about having both men’s eyes on you has your skin itching with desire and your blood running hot.
Dave scoffs softly, repeating your word choice and shaking his head. Almost.
“You looking for more?” he taunts as he wedges his large hand fully between your legs to cup and tease your cunt.
You can’t help the breathlessness of the yes that slips out of you. You roll into his palm, and your mouth parts at the friction and his boldness. He smiles wolfishly, flashing his teeth, when he feels you twist and rock against him. His look encourages you. And you tilt your hips and shift your legs to give him better access.
“Dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he asks, still locked on your face. You swell at this. His eyes lower to your glossy lips before he sips casually from his drink, so composed.
Your cheeks warm at his words, but he has his answer when he slips a finger beneath the damp lace between your legs and drags it through the pool of arousal gathering at your entrance. Your lips part at the contact, chest heaving, and you give him a nod and coy smile in response to his question. You’ll be his dirty little thing tonight.
“That’s good,” he declares, pressing a kiss just below your ear before adding, “I’d like to do dirty things to you.”
His husky voice and declaration stir an urgent need to be touched within you. He continues to agitate your nerves as his hand massages over your swollen sex. Your skin feels tight and prickly, tensing, ready to feel more. You’re unconcerned with the debased nature of being fingered in public.
When your eyes are instinctually drawn back towards Joel, you shudder. You can feel the twitching of your clit as your cunt floods over Dave’s fingers. The depravity that another man’s glare eases the slip of your date’s teasing touch is not lost on you. Instead, it turns you on even more. Joel’s homicidal stare has you squirming. You’ve seen darkness in his eyes before, but not like this. There’s no twinkle of mocking, and it’s not cruel in a hot way. If looks could kill, then this room would look like the club scene from Blade.
Dave murmurs something filthy in your ear that makes you gasp. Your hand flies to his thigh, gripping tightly to keep you from melting onto the floor.
“Don’t be shy, dirty girl,” he croons darkly, “you can touch.”
“Fuck,” you groan under your breath when you move your hand to find his hard cock straining against his well-fitted jeans.
He chuckles lowly at the way your eyes widen in response before he plunges two fingers inside of you, and you stifle a throaty sound. Your mind still wanders to Joel, and you wonder if he can see your perverse display below the table. Judging by his clenched fists on the bar, you’d say whatever he can see is enough to fill in the blanks. The sick part of you that feels more turned on by his agony expands within you.
“Oh god,” you whisper as you suck in air.
Dave works his fingers lazily into you. You feel intoxicated by the attention of both men. A concern flashes through you that someone else in the club could catch on or see more than you’d like to show. But a feeling in your gut tells you that it doesn’t matter. Dave seems strikingly confident with a lethal attention to detail. And the ferocity on Joel’s face only eggs you on.
When you think of humbling Joel, a sinister smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. He’s the one that unleashed the horny, risk-taking monster within you and then disappeared. Fuck moping about him. You’re getting yours, you decide.
You shoot Joel a wink. Pouring gasoline on the fire, hoping it pisses him off.
You lean into the salaciously tempting energy radiating off of Dave. Reaching to hold his jaw as your lips lock and you let him control your mouth. Kissing him riles you up more. You palm at his erection over his jeans, delighting in the noises that roil deep in his chest. You hold back whimpers as the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you finds the perfect spot.
He pulls back from your kiss and looks down to watch your hand groping at him. You like watching him watch you.
“You gonna take it out?” Oh. Fuck, you want to. It feels like more of a risk than you’ve taken so far.
“Here?” you ask him softly.
A wrinkle appears between your brows. Dave watches your swollen lips again just as your pink tongue darts out to wet them. He raises a brow at you, eyes dropping to where his arm disappears under your dress.
“Oh, are you feeling bashful now?” he goads. His fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside of you as his palm presses firmly into your swollen clit. He makes it hard for you to answer. You try to pout at him, but the reflexive rise in your brows at the pleasure betrays you. He chuckles again. “No? Just distracted, hm?”
“Fuck,” is all you can mouth. It is distracting. Not the fingers inside you, well, not completely, but the urge. The craving to leverage your lewd new lover’s lack of regard for appropriate behavior into emotional revenge. The thought of Joel growing mad with jealousy as he watches you come overtakes your critical thinking.
Eat your heart out, Joel Miller! You dare him across the room, letting your jaw fall slack and your brows knit in obvious pleasure.
“Are you going to come for me?” Dave asks, “Here in this booth? Where anyone could see?” he tuts like he’s disappointed, and it works. The danger of it all does something to heighten your senses. It’s blinding. The bass from the music blaring from the dance floor rattling in your ribs, Dave’s designer cologne filling your nose, the sheen of sweat collecting on your chest, and the daggers in Joel’s eyes when you glance to confirm he’s still watching. All the sensations clash and shove you towards your release.
“Yes,” you hiss quietly, “yes.” Your eyes slam shut as you try to remain composed while riding his fingers under the table. You flicker in and out of reality as your climax rolls through you. You’re drunk on the reversal of power when your eyes peel open, and you see the hardened expression on Joel’s face glowering at you. You wonder if his dick is just as hard in his pants, and the thought has you contracting again around Dave’s fingers.
“That’s a good girl.” Dave’s voice is somehow even deeper. It sends another ripple of pleasure to swirl low in your abdomen. You’d like to hear that again.
With a touch more clarity after the violent edge of your arousal is dulled, your hand works at his belt, desperate to feel the heat of his cock in your palm. He assists, lifting his hips when you unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his pants so you can slide your hand beneath his underwear. His tension and urgency further stoke your power trip, and you feel overcome with the need to know how badly he wants you. When you wrap your fingers around him, hear the groan he makes, and feel the mindless buck of his hips, you have a more than good enough answer. He’s yours.
Dave watches the way your eyes glaze over when your thumb smears the precome dripping from his head down his length. His hand stills distractedly between your legs, and his chin drops as he watches where your hand disappears under his dark boxer briefs. You’re constricted by the elastic waistband, but your grip is tight. Almost as tight as when he fucks his own fist. He’s mesmerized by the way you jerk his cock just right.
You feel yourself salivating with the need to taste him. You’re getting frustrated with the limited space and want to see him in your hand. You sigh, wishing you could, until you realize you can, and grin.
You pull your hand back out of his pants, and he snaps out of his stupor. Before he can comment, you cut him off.
“Keep your pants on and take me to the bathroom so I can suck your cock right.”
Your voice comes out lower than you thought it would. His eyes flare before he matches your devious look and obeys, spewing filthy thoughts you can’t make out under his breath as he does. He’s ushering you down the hall in seconds, and then you’re locking the door and dropping to your knees. Dave doesn’t wait a second longer, wrenching his belt open and dropping his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free.
You don’t tease or start slow. He admires how you waste no time like you’re desperate to taste him. And you are. Only pausing for a moment to admire the way he looks, stiff and leaking for you, before you eagerly wrap your lips around him. You slide your tongue everywhere and bob up and down with vigor. Salty and vaguely sweet, precome teases your palette. You want more. The best you can do to express that is swallow around him and suck until he’s moaning and cursing above you.
You let your saliva pool and spill from your lips so you can slide your hand down the rest of his length while you revel at the weight of him on your tongue. You find the moves that have his fists clenching and thighs straining and repeat them. You hum around him as pride blooms in your chest over how his composure cracks.
You wonder if Joel has smashed through the bar with his fists yet. At least he didn’t break down the bathroom door before you could get on your knees. Would he strangle Dave first if he saw the two of you? Or would he drag you home and gag you on his angry cock instead? You moan obscenely as your imagination runs wild. You look up at Dave. He watches you with fierce eyes. You wouldn’t mind if they shared you, you consider, but that would take a miracle.
You continue messily and enthusiastically until your knees ache, and you decide he has to come for you. You try to beg for it while he’s still in your mouth before you have the brains to pull off of him and tell him what you want. He’s endeared by your unrefined hedonism.
He grips your jaw in his palm when you get the words out.
“You want to swallow my come?” he asks.
“Yes,” you plead impatiently on your knees with a hoarse voice. You’re a pornographic sight on the tile floor with your wet lashes, swollen lips, and saliva glistening on your chin. You open your mouth for him and hold out your tongue.
“Oh,” he strokes his thumb along your cheek, smiling down at you, “that’s a good girl.”
Your eyes close at that, feeling the praise warm your skin before he slides back into your wet mouth.
Guiding you faster and a little rougher, Dave doesn’t take long to come. Spilling onto your tongue as you groan around him until he stops pulsing in your mouth. You swallow, glowing for him with glassy eyes. He helps you to stand before tucking his softening cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. You’re adjusting your dress and reaching for your bag on the counter.
“What do you need?” He asks a little softer than you expected, causing you to pause.
“Take me home,” you smile at him dopily before pausing and wincing at yourself in the mirror. You look like a freshly face-fucked mess.
“Uh, actually, give me a few minutes to freshen up first, and I’ll meet you out front?”
He nods, “I’ll pull the car up.”
“I’d like that.” You reply and lock the door behind him after he slips out.
Once you feel more presentable, you pull your phone from your bag and tap the screen to check the time before opening the door.
Seeing Joel’s name makes your stomach flip. You open the text.
Joel: Miss me?
It snaps something in you. Something that enrages you. He has to be certifiably insane, you think. It came through a little while ago, but you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom. You begin to spiral, debating if you should march to the bar and throw a drink in his face or pretend like he doesn’t even exist. You feel your face burning hot, and the bathroom is suddenly suffocating. You need some air before you get into the car with Dave. Just long enough to breathe normally and look less like you want to break something.
Leaving the bathroom you find an employee exit further down the hall. A faded sign on the door warns that an alarm will sound, but the rock wedged in the door jam holding it open a crack begs to differ, and you slip into the dark.
A lanky, pale kid in a black apron sits atop a picnic table in the alley.
“Oh, sorry,” you feel a little guilty interrupting his break, “just wanted some air.”
“All good,” he responds before sliding off the makeshift seating. “Last call for the kitchen anyway. Have my seat,” he waves at the table like he’s offering a throne. You accept. Exceedingly grateful to have the air and the privacy to regulate. Just some slow, deep breaths. Then, you can walk out the front door and let Dave take you home.
The door swings open again, and you tense, ready to hop off the table and find another space.
“Sorry,” you start your apology, but it’s cut off.
“You should be,” Joel accuses harshly. He’s in your space with two of his long strides. Rushing at you like you’re caught in a snare trap, and he’s starving. You briefly look the part with your eyes wide in the moonlight, shocked by his sudden appearance, until your barely dampened rage rips from your throat.
“Joel, what the fuck?” you spit out in disbelief, but he interrupts you–
“I thought I already told you what happens if you’re gonna be a filthy tease?” his voice lowers as he ignores your question and paces in front of you with a dark, wicked stare.
“What are you doing here?” you press, ignoring his threat.
“What are you doing here?” he demands. Like he has some certificate of entitlement to your whereabouts. He towers over you. Your eyes narrow to slits. If you could shoot lasers out of them, you’d do it now.
You laugh. Loudly. You’re still laughing when he grabs you and pivots your frame so your legs dangle off of the end of the table towards him. Closer. He gets even closer, standing between your knees. You tilt your face to look up at him.
“You on a date?” it’s a growl carved from stone. You choose to remain ignorant to the shiver it sends through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. How dare he charge up on you like a territorial werewolf in the night? And how dare he look so fucking good with that snarly expression? No. You laugh again. Wild-eyed. Words start coming up before you even hear yourself.
“What is wrong with you, Joel? Why were you watching me? You looking for a show?” you jab. Gnashing at him with your words. He snorts dismissively at you, and a barbaric smile creeps onto his face. Like he’s in on some joke you don’t know about. He irks you so bad your skin crawls.
“S’that what you call it?” he asks, “A show?” Continuing to ignore your other questions. He is so close to you that it burns your skin.
“No, Joel. You were right the first time. I am on a date. A real date. You know what that is, right? Like, he asked me out, picked me up on time, bought me a drink,” you’re tallying on your fingers, “answered my–”
“And then what, you fuck him in the bathroom and hide out here? Alone in the alley?”
It clicks. He knows exactly why you’re flustered. The asshole must’ve sent his text for his own slimy experiment. Trying to rattle you. What fucking game is he playing? Is he trying to win you? Like you’re Dave’s possession to lose?
You scoff at his interjection, “No, Joel, I’m not alone. You followed me out here to make sure of it, right?”
“Right,” he rumbles. His dark eyes glint even in the shadows of the alley. He leans lower and closer to you until you tip back, palms on the table behind you, then elbows. Exposing your cleavage to the moonlight. He pauses, eyes raking down your face, neck, and chest. How does he make you feel raw and vulnerable even when fully dressed?
“You haven’t answered me,” you huff. Irritated and arched beneath him.
“I asked you first,” he argues. A childish rebuttal for a grown man. You’re pretty sure you’ve asked why he’s here a hundred times, but of course, that doesn’t matter. He’s insufferable with his attitude and inability to communicate. Everything about you is taut, and you feel frayed.
Joel dips his head and his lips brush your ear, tickling you, before he rasps, “I asked if you miss me, baby, and you haven’t answered.”
A tremor runs through your body.
It’s criminal. Your mind converts his voice directly into a hot coil of arousal. The throbbing between your legs causes you to wriggle beneath him.
“I need to know,” he croons, begging you to give in.
His arm slides under your back, lowering you onto the table. Your restraint collapses terribly quickly for him. His voice. His touch. He knows all of your buttons.
Laid on your back, your legs instinctively wrap around him as he bends to meet you.
Soft puffs of air shakily flow between your lips as you struggle to concentrate. On what? You aren’t sure. Not good. You squeeze your eyes shut like maybe he’ll disappear.
“I mean it, baby,” he continues purring with a sharp edge, “you tell me when you miss me.”
You know it wouldn’t matter even if you did. If you texted him. If you called. It wouldn’t matter. It would probably make you feel worse. But when he says it, you feel your heart doing flips anyway.
He slides his hands over your body, and you feel the last of your logic escaping as you tug him towards you. You’re grinding against him stupidly without a single thought. Just having him this close to you had you feeling desperate and needy. You could come again right now just by dry-humping like horny teenagers.
The craving for him is so intense that you’ll surely die if he doesn’t keep moving. You lose any shred of composure that you were still clinging to and let out a needy whine for him. And when your fingers twist and tug at his shirt, it’s like a green light to Joel.
He closes any and all gaps between you. His hand skates roughly under your dress, bunching up the fabric. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your neck and grazes his teeth enticingly along your jaw.
Groping, grinding, grunting. All his movements dance a line between deliberate and frantic.
You have tunnel vision, lost from time and space. When his low moan vibrates through you, your hand shoots to his belt. He rasps into your ear again, “That’s it, baby, I’m right here if you miss me, don’t need some jerkoff tryin’ to waste your time.” Your fingers fumble. What– “Oh, shit!” a voice yells. You freeze. “Don’t mind me!” The drunk guy slurs as he stumbles out the backdoor and sways down the alley towards the street.
Your situation hits you like a bucket of cold water. Joel seems unfazed, still curled over you. You push at him and sit up.
“What did you just say, Joel?”
“Hmm?” he murmurs at you.
“Joel, I’m serious. What the fuck?”
He’s not listening. His hands are still searching your body. The scent of his faded deodorant is so familiar in your nose. The words are coming up again. Before he casts his trance on you.
“No. I said I’m serious,” you repeat, “I’m not playing your games. Done with your weird shit.” Your body feels rigid, and your mind is clearing through the fog of lust. “Just because I have no self-esteem and I fuck you anytime you show up on my doorstep doesn’t mean you have any claim to me.”
He blinks at you, finally registering your tone, expression shifting. “I actually tried, you know? I wanted to get to know you. You just bail. I keep suffering for it. Like an idiot. I keep thinking it would show I care.”
“Baby–”
“And now what? You see me on a date and decide it would be fun to ruin it? Ruin a chance at something better than waiting around wondering if you’ll show up looking to score?” You’re on your feet now. Livid. Ablaze in the dark. “No, you don’t even care enough to think about that,” you realize aloud.
His features harden. Your head shakes slowly, exasperated with your burgeoning understanding. All you can hear is the white noise buzzing in your skull. Your next words are quieter and lower, forcing him to pay close attention.
“You just wanted to prove something, right? Thought you’d fuck me on this table and run like you always do? For what, to prove you could?”
His nostrils flare, and you don’t miss how he grits his teeth.
You don’t falter; he doesn’t scare you. You press on with your accusations prickly on your tongue. You back him against the wall next to the door as you continue.
“You don’t like hearing it?” you cock your head at him, amused with his discomfort. “Were you going to leave me here in the alley full of your come like I’m some pathetic whore for you? Would you walk me back to my date after that? Was that your plan?”
Joel snaps, manhandling you in a split second. Pinned against the brick wall, you can hear your heart pounding. It’s a paper-thin line between anger and lust, and you can’t tell which has your blood pumping. You can’t tell if he’s about to yell at you or fuck you. You hate that you can’t tell which you’d prefer.
His eyes are locked onto yours. Not revealing anything. You shift, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He doesn’t keep you waiting. Joel shoves his hand into your panties, fingers slipping immediately into the fresh pool of arousal between your thighs. A shaky exhale comes out of you, but he doesn’t seem to need to blink or breathe anymore.
He brings his glossy fingers to your mouth. Silent. He taps at your lip until you open and suck, tasting yourself. His mask slips a little. One brow twitches as he studies the scene of your lips wrapped around both of his fingers. But his eyes flick to yours when he pulls them out of your mouth and drags them down your bottom lip, smearing spit against your chin.
“Tell me,” he says in a whisper that scrapes across your skin, “does it taste like you miss me?”
You swallow tightly. A lump forms in your throat now, about as large as a civilization-ending asteroid.
You can hear your phone buzzing. Forgotten on the table. Panic streaks over your eyes as you wonder how long you’ve been out here. You duck under his arm, dashing for your phone. You don’t look at him. You can’t. As you sprint down the hallway, you swing the door open, kicking the rock in the door jam, hopefully locking Joel outside. Cursing at yourself for almost letting Joel fuck you in the alley across from a dumpster.
Dave sits in his car, idling along the curb near the front of the club. You’re surprised he didn’t leave. You hope it hasn’t been long. You don’t dare check your phone. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. You don’t think time functions normally when you’re around Joel.
Dave is frighteningly observant, slinking out of his car to open the door for you before you get close enough to reach for the handle.
“I was just starting to wonder if you’d snuck out the back door,” he chides.
You feel the blood rushing to the surface of your skin. Hot with embarrassment over your behavior and his on-the-nose word choice.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I did step out for some air. Wanted to cool down.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he assures you, tilting your chin towards his face with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes dart around his face, wondering what he sees on yours. “Was it too much, dirty girl?” he coos.
“What, this?” you lilt mockingly as you palm over his bulge, “I don’t think so.”
“Good,” he snorts softly. “Get in the car.” He adds as he opens the door for you.
He pauses before pulling away from the curb once seated in the driver’s side.
“Is your boyfriend going to be following us home?”
“My what?” you feel the blood drain from your face.
“The one from the bar,” he continues, measured and eerily calm, “the one who followed us here?” Your head starts spinning at that, but Dave carries on, unbothered. “I assumed he likes to watch. You should’ve told me. It would’ve been easier than wondering if he’s a deranged stalker or–”
“No.” You cut him off and struggle to continue for multiple reasons. “It’s not like that. I thought it was a coincidence,” you feel a confusing mix of emotions.
“Followed us?” you’re curious.
“When I picked you up. In the truck?”
“Oh god. No. He’s,” you pause, searching for the right words.
“An ex?”
“Not even that. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’d follow me.”
“So he is dangerous?”
“No.” Only to my self-respect.
“You want me to take care of him?”
“No.” You reply before putting any thought behind what that means. “No. He’s just an asshole with a staring problem.”
You withdraw. You hadn’t thought about why Joel was here. How ridiculous it sounds to imagine Joel voluntarily sitting at the bar in a club like this alone. You feel the blood rushing to your ears. Stupid little butterflies flap their wings in your stomach before they’re reduced to ashes, and you begin to see red again tonight. How is Joel ruining your night without saying a word this time?
“Take me home,” you say firmly.
He does. Dave walks you to your door. You invite him in, but he’s observant, noticing the clouds in your expression. He declines your invite but assures you he would be very interested in seeing you again. He gives you a chaste kiss that makes you laugh, considering how bold you both have been tonight. It lightens your mood.
He lingers for a moment before he pulls out his wallet.
“It was on the house this time,” you snark. Curious about what he’s doing.
He hands you a sleek business card. A business card? Is this guy Patrick Bateman?
Your face wrinkles in confusion.
“I already have your number,” you flip the card over in case you’re missing something. It doesn’t say anything, just has a phone number.
“I meant what I said, that I’d be interested in seeing you again for pleasure,” he smirks, “but if you change your mind, at least keep this.”
You don’t understand why you’d need his work phone number but try to play it cool and nod.
“If your stalker becomes a problem, you call me.”
You’re still confused about what that means when he drives away. As you shut your door, you realize you have no idea what he does.
You’re still in the middle of composing a text to Katie about how her green flag date included a bathroom blowjob and a business card when you hear a knock at your door. You swing it open, assuming foolishly that it would be Dave.
Before you can blink, Joel kicks the door shut and backs you down the hallway. He looks like a man possessed as he hurtles towards you. It sends a chill down your spine that you think would trigger your fight or flight response, but yours seems to be reprogrammed to fight or fuck. Staggering backward, you yelp when the backs of your knees hit your mattress.
“Can I fucking help you?” you snap at him as you realign with reality. “Jesus Christ, Joel, were you waiting outside the window or something?”
You glare into his eyes, but a toxic part of you only wants to focus on his lips. And how close they are to yours. You also can’t deny the even more debauched part of you that flutters at the possessive look in Joel’s eyes.
He laughs darkly, “Nah baby, I knew you’d send him on his way.”
You roll your eyes at that. Cocky bastard.
And he is. He emits a frenzied energy as he takes you in. Looking you up and down like a prize. Like he’s considering where to write his name on your skin.
You roll your shoulders. Trying to shake off the idea that you’d like to be possessed by him, but it thrums persistently inside of you.
“You didn’t know shit, Miller,” you accuse sardonically.
Joel reaches for you. You think he’s going to tell you off. But his hands glide over the tops of your shoulders and up the column of your neck until he’s cupping your jaw in both hands. It feels jarring and vulnerable to be held by him this way. To feel like he just wants to look at you and to know you can’t look away. You wonder what’s going on behind his dark eyes. What he sees when he looks at you What he thinks.
The longer he looks at you, the more the tension builds (of course, because it’s Joel). You start to itch, fingers twitching with the need to grab him and pull his full weight on top of you. Despite your building desire, he’s still quietly reading your face. Joel Miller, the enigma, you muse.
Before you can flip him any shit, his mouth is on yours, and his hands drop to your hips to hold you firmly against his body. You want him to keep holding you there, but closer. You need him even closer.
He groans into your mouth, and you kiss him back hungrily. Your bodies slot together in a twisted fate. You couldn’t care less about the date you just had at this moment. You can hear Joel’s words from previous encounters that have burrowed into your consciousness, and you’re starving for more.
A selfish and greedy satisfaction warms in your chest at him being in your bedroom. He pulls your lower lip between his teeth before breaking away to tease bites along your neck and shoulder. You shiver. Your fingers dig into his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your knees buckle, and fall into the bed with him on top of you. He doesn’t stop trying to taste you everywhere, trying to feel every part of you. You breathe out single-syllable praise as your thoughts become hazy.
You still feel needy. You writhe and strain as you attempt to work his shirt up his broad frame. You’re insistent on feeling the blistering heat of his skin against yours. He leans back up, out of your grip, causing you to sigh in exasperation. Of course, it couldn’t be this easy. What does he have to say now?
“You want me to leave?”
“What? Why?” you growl out. He is not about to body slam you into a bed and then walk away.
“Thought you were done with my ‘weird shit’ or whatever you called it,” he taunts.
“I am,” you huff.
“Tell me to stop.” You can’t.
“Take your clothes off,” you answer instead.
He does. Then, he’s pulling your clothes off and climbing over you. You aren’t sure you’ve ever both been fully naked like this. Definitely not while in a bed, at least. It’s more intimate than your relationship calls for. It makes time feel syrupy, but your other senses feel sharply tuned. Joel’s breath fans hot over your ear as he tucks his face into the corner of your neck and shoulder.
“So,” he sucks at your delicate skin before continuing in his smoky tone, “your date couldn’t satisfy you?”
“Shut up,” you snarl at him, uninterested in playing games. You’re too lost in the intensity of his physical presence. You need him inside of you, and you tug at his body, trying to pull him closer. It’s useless. His strong arms are braced like two stone pillars on either side of you.
He’s such a pest. His mouth quirks, and he looks all too pleased with himself. You roll your eyes again. You know what he’s getting at. What he wants to hear you say. But, you’re reluctant to stroke his ego. He’s going to be unbearable if. The thorn of it that hurts the most, though, is that it’s not a lie. It’s an admission. A confirmation.
He makes you feel so good in ways nobody else ever could, but the pain of knowing he’ll never be yours eats at you. It feels like exposing your beating heart in your chest to confess you want him so badly. You ache to hear him tell you he only wants you again. Even if it’s not real, you lie to yourself, you just need to hear it.
While you wrestle with finding the words, he begins to torment you. The heat and arousal weigh heavily between your naked bodies. He lowers closer and closer to where you need him most but refuses to alleviate your painful want. Wickedly, he exploits your neediness. Teasing at your skin with his tongue, teeth, and breath.
“Tell me, baby. Just let me hear it,” he says. But you can’t.
When he blows air over your strained nipples, and you arch under him seeking contact, he darts down to kiss at your stomach and inner thighs instead. When he gets closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, grazing his nose over your mound, you could snap.
You reach to dig your fingers into his hair and direct his mouth to your throbbing clit, but he’s stronger than you. Devilish man. He crawls back up to hover over your face. You know he’s enjoying it. Wondering how quickly you’ll break. It makes you want to kick and scream.
“Tell me it’s not true then,” it’s a challenge directed at you, but it feels like he’s also challenging himself.
He drags the head of his cock over the slick lips of your cunt without precision or direction. You are so convinced he’s torturing you, but he looks like he’s in pain from restraining himself as well. It makes you crazy. You try to reach down to line him up with your entrance yourself, but he’s faster. He grabs your hand and pins it above your head.
“Fine,” you grit out. Frustrated. You aim to smother your fear with sarcasm and puff your chest, hoping it works.
“You’re right, Joel. It’s true.” He doesn’t move, waiting to hear more.
“I missed your filthy mouth and your big fat cock.” You mock with an exaggerated whine. You keep going before you lose courage. “And my date couldn’t satisfy me.” You pause, steeling yourself. The corner of his mouth twitches.
“Because even when I had his cock down my throat,” you force yourself to look in his eyes, “all I could think about was you.”
You tried to keep the snarky, biting tone in that last part, but your voice betrayed you when you met his eyes. It came out sounding as vulnerable as it felt to say. His expression flickers. You feel too honest. You should take it back. You want to curl up. He grins above you.
“I know, baby,” he coos. You hold your breath. Of course he’s going to be a condescending ass about it, you start to bemoan internally–but when he finally sinks into you, it shuts off your inner monologue and slows down time. “All I can fuckin’ think about,” he says as he fills you as deeply as possible, letting a satisfied sigh fall from his lips.
All I can fuckin’ think about.
The words rattle around in your mind. Joel begins to rock into you, deliberately grinding his pelvis against you. All he can think about is you, too? Or fucking you? Or how he’s ruined you for other men?
All I can fuckin’ think about.
It echoes in your head as he picks up his pace, splitting you open with heavy, mind-altering thrusts. Suffocatingly intimate. Face to face. Skin to skin. Soul to soul. His voice isn’t just echoing in your mind; he’s also running his mouth about something. Muttering about how he knew you’d be waiting for him, how he’s going to fuck you until you forget your date's name, how nobody else can satisfy your needy cunt.
Oh.
He’s not wrong. You want to hear more.
“Yes,” You can stoke this fire. You don’t mind finding out what happens if you rile him up while he’s inside you. “Only you,” you pant, “nobody else fucks me like you do.”
He makes a throaty noise in agreement and shifts. Large hands wrap around the back of your knees and press them towards your chest, tilting your hips up. You choke and sputter as he slams into you with force. The new angle creates a blissful intensity.
“That’s right,” he says, “nobody else.”
He pounds into you like he could fuck you through the mattress, maybe even through the floor. The lewd sound of his thighs slapping against your ass fill the room. You tuck your chin to your chest to watch the way each thrust makes your breasts bounce. You notice that he’s mesmerized by the same sight, and you take the opportunity to shift your gaze, studying the look on his face.
It’s more sensual than anything you’ve done together before. You can see the sweat beading on his chest from exertion. You’re nearly folded in half and unable to stop your soft cries and moans. It’s raw, sticky, and vulnerable. You feel warmed at the thought but also fragile. Breakable. Hypersensitive emotionally and physically. It’s all too bright and hot.
You let his voice push you over the edge, and your climax rips fiercely through your body. You faintly hear him groan as your tight walls contract around him, but his voice is drowned out by the pleasure. Your legs tremble, still balanced over his shoulders.
Your core muscles spasm as he keeps sawing into you until your hips are jerking at the sensitivity of your come down. He slows, breathing heavily over you. You can see the animalistic edge in his eyes. You have to push it. Play it out.
“Make me yours,” you incite.
You definitely just meant to imply, ‘fuck me hard and come inside me, please,’ but you worry he’s interpreted it differently when he drops your legs. Wrong. He turns you over, laying you flat on your stomach, pulling your arms behind your back, and pinning you to the bed. He straddles your closed legs. Your shoulders strain a little as he leans into you. His heavy body compresses your prone form, and his cock weighs heavy against the curve of your ass; it feels right. A perverted comfort blanket, stealing your breath.
“Repeat it,” he tells the back of your neck.
“Make me yours.” You turn your head to the side. You can’t see his face, but you can hear the string of curses he chants when he lines up and wedges himself into you. The added constriction of your position unravels you both.
“Mine,” he grunts. You muffle your own noises into the sheets, along for the ride. He doesn’t last much longer before you feel him still overtop of you. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of the pulsing and throbbing of his cock inside you as he fills you up. Breathing deep, your back rises against his chest before he slides off of you.
You roll onto your side. Facing each other, you still at the sight of him. Another breath shared between you, chests expanding towards each other. For the briefest moment, you think he might stay. You can see the soft edge of relaxation in his features. Your hand drifts toward him, an instinct based on nothing rational, just wanting to feel him. You feel the stupid, dreamy expression settling on your face. Before you can speak or figure out what you were reaching for, he’s snapped out of the bubble of tranquility. His walls are up.
He’s dressed and leaving, walking towards the door as you can only sigh into your dirty sheets.
He doesn’t even leave with a snide last word. Just the door closing.
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#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#fanfic#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#fuckboy joel#dave york#the last of us fanfiction#joel tlou smut#pedro pascal smut
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idk if you accept requests but i badly want to read the blue lock boys with the orange peel theory going around on tiktok 🥹
notes: anon, i was in a slump and then you come with this, please know i cant get it out of my mine for 2 whole nights. so, please have this, i hope u will enjoy it & your fave is there. also shoutout to @doobea for helping me with rin & barou esp <3 aso for standing my yappings. warning: none, post canon au in mind, reader's gender unspecified.
character: isagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin, sae, barou + bonus
isagi
sweet boy will do it with a smile. is not the tidiest but you can now eat your orange while sharing with him. has a vibe that he is sort of used to doing this somehow. a total win still. if you do the same for him he will get flustered. also asking this is one of the quickest ways to get mr. egoist switches to mr. sweetheart boyfriend.
“Eh, why are peeling one too? I already… for me…?…I, uh—I see. Thanks… I—I am… give me a second.”
kaiser
you are the one who will peel for him—unless you throw a fuss and give him a silent treatment because this guy's pride is no joke. he can, he just doesn't want to. but to appease you and gain back his rightful spoiling, he will. afterward, at least, he learns his lesson and when you are about to peel one yourself, will take it and peel it beautifully for you like a second nature.
“…the fuck are you staring at? Just take it. You are about to eat it anyway, right? Then what's the big deal?”
bachira
yes, he will no question asked but is it worth it. probably will make a mess out of his energy. you will be laughing along with him somehow though so it is worth it. having the sunshine doing anything in front of you is a guaranteed smile-inducing routine. as for the orange, please do switch to other alternatives, for example: kisses, as suggested by him.
“Isn't this better than orange? Huum, huum! More healthy, sweeter too, right? Another one?”
chigiri
depending on his mood, you will either get a very cute orange peel or a half-peeled orange (at best) you have to finish peeling yourself. on the former, you get a smug bf who will feed you like it's a pocky stick. on the latter, you better be the one feeding him while hugging and cuddling him. multitask somehow. also, give him kisses because he is called a ‘princess’ for a reason.
“Ah, being in your arms being fed like this… yeah, yeah. I know don't worry. I will repay the favor.”
nagi
realistically, you will be the one peeling it for him and forcing him to eat one. because why would he even touch one? he is too lazy for that, nothing personal. but, let's say he really, really loves you: he still won't, he will just give you orange-flavored jelly in replacement. it does come from a place of love though, he genuinely thinks it's less troublesome to eat and, hence: better.
“Eating that is troublesome. It taste the same too. We can also do it while kissing. Mouth to mouth. Better right?”
reo
normally, will get a servant to peel it for you and him. though: can he do it? will he do it if it must be him? no question asked, absolutely will, all while chatting and staring at you with so much love. totally mr. k-drama male lead. you and your premium orange are in good hands.
“Oh, man, you are sometimes really …huh? Nah, I mean, I like doing this. It's just now I feel like I have to do this every time, so… yeah.”
rin
the first time, he will click his tongue and mess up. he will crush the orange. better never speak of it again, just know he loves you wholly despite everything. then a week passes and suddenly you will get a professional competitive orange peeler part-timer. without asking. just eat your orange. unless you are sick of it or it makes you actually sick.
“Did the orange taste good? … good. Nothing. You just look… nevermind. Do you want another one?”
sae
will he or will you. realistically, no? there are two possible reasons: 1) he can't. his whole stat is in soccer. 2) “you can't?” aka is it worth it getting judged by him. in case #2 though, just act cute and aim for his soft spot for you, he will fold and peel it with you pressed to his arm. he will grumble or glare but that's just itoshi-esque tsundere.
“You can't do something like this yourself? This will be the only time I’m doing this… Also who told you to move away?”
barou
our king. will peel the skin and the white fiber for you. tidy peels and if you know your way around his heart—you do just smile or blink and he is gone—he will also feed you. 10/10 execution no notes. probably will do this in kotatsu, dinner tables, and other domestic settings that are not bed while being a tsundere.
“I’m doing this just so you don't make a mess, got it? Also, scoot closer, your leg is kicking me—what do you mean I’m lying?!”
bonus
kunigami will, both before and after wc because you are his world. the difference would be in his expression only and there is that because his love for you would never change. shidou will but genuinely, please just peel it yourself. aiku will, not without teasing you though. gagamaru will either will or teach you how to eat the skin too. zantetsu wants to do it, but it will be really messy so please just don't. hiori will do it like a sweet boy, but if he is in his sadistic mood he will tease you for a bit before finally feeding you.
#bllk imagines#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader#blue lock scenarios#bllk fluff#blue lock imagines#bllk scenarios#bllk headcanons#blue lock headcanons#isagi x reader#kaiser x reader#sae x reader#chigiri x reader#rin x reader#bachira x reader#barou x reader#nagi x reader#reo x reader#did i nearly lost the prompt? yes. but i did have fun. if anon also have fun it will be enough for me#i wrote this one in bed like a madman. after cooling down i can only think how it was fun. i hope i did it right#anon this is scheduled. if this makes you happy press isagi pic to gimme spirit. however all in all i hope u r happy
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hi bub! i'm not sure if you're taking requests rn, but if you are, i'd like to request a fluffy leona kingscholar x reader fic where reader can't stop playing with leona's tail 🤭🦁
Soft Spot
🖋️: thank u for this request! reading and writing leona fics are my guilty pleasure, fun fact! riddle, leona, and malleus caught my eye the first ever time i got into twst yrs ago hihi :)) i hope u enjoy this one! i really enjoyed writing it within the day 🤍
🍰: word count: 994 words. gn! reader, fluff! leona kingscholar x reader (likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated !!)
Leona wouldn't have ever put his guard down around anyone, it's the one other important thing he learned being in the savannah. That you are vulnerable when you turn your back on someone, it's always been that way, survival of the fittest they say.
So when you came into his life, well, it was a big change to say the least. Whenever you were around, he always had unexplainable emotions that was bubbling up inside of him. Urges that he wouldn't usually have, he knew it wasn't normal.
The feeling of wanting to know how you're hand felt in his, the way he yearned for the sensation of your hands going over his calloused ones, wanting to entangle his fingers into yours. How you would glance at him every now and then while you braid his hair for him on a lazy morning, the way your eyes moved when your gaze shifted elsewhere or how they would turn into crescents when you smiled.
This was far from normal. Though he couldn't help but enjoy it and want more. He was wrapped around your finger.
Lounging in the dimly lit space of his dorm where the sunlight would only seep through his room's opened blinds, he had you over to "keep him company" and didn't elaborate further. Not like he wanted or needed to anyway, unless it's just the fact that he didn't want to admit that he feels safer and comfortable when you're around. Or that he does like being around you, it wasn't lonely like it always was. You were "tolerated by him" (but of course, it's not just that.)
You had lounged on a different seat near his bed while you spoke to him about the upcoming spelldrive tournament, asking him about how it was for the team when in preparation.
“Just don't pull a stunt like the one you did last time. Competitiveness has it's limits too.”
“Not for me there isn't, it's just a matter of not wanting to lose, beasty. And our dorm is set on winning whether they like it or not.” He spoke, his lazy tone lingering in the air before it comes to a comfortable silence.
Minutes would pass, the housewarden's eyes would droop a little to rest them. Ears twitching and his tail swishing around, it was a sign that he was still up and hadn't already fallen asleep on you.
Naturally due to you and Leona's difference in species, you had noticed the way his tail would swish around as he kept himself awake while doing so. It was the only other time you would see it up close, knowing him, he didn't let anyone touch or even come close to his tail. But supposedly, it was yet again different with you.
Unable to help yourself, you reach out to tamper with his tail a little. Feeling the hairs of the ends of his tail as you did so, causing him to open his eyes in curiosity of what you were doing. Your laughter rung in his ears, making his ears twitch and an amused smile tugging on the corners of his lips. As he watched you aimlessly play around, the same unexplainable feeling warms his heart again whenever he's around you.
Following the movement of his tail aimlessly, you hadn't noticed him watching in amusement. He had kept quiet as he moved his tail around for you to follow it like you were some type of cat he was trying to lure in with a toy. It was amusing in his eyes, a soft snort escaped him as he tried to contain his laughter.
The housewarden begun to intentionally move his tail around in directions to watch your hands follow it suit. After a little while, he deliberately stops and lets you finally take his tail into your gentle grasp, not wanting to hurt him or anything. Leona's tail begins to wrap around your wrist and the entire length of your forearm before finally letting out a chuckle.
“Enjoyed yourself?”
“Well, it was fun while it lasted.”
“You're rather easy to please. You know, not everyone gets to do that with my tail.”
“Exactly, that's what makes it even more enjoyable.”
Leona glances up at you and barks out a gentle laugh before shaking his head, his eyes lingering again on your figure. Whatever this feeling was, and whatever it does to him, he does not want it to stop. He gestures a little as his grip on you by his tail ushers you forwards.
“Come here, lay with me, beasty.”
As you do so, his tail uncoils itself from your arms. His head had readjusted so it would lay on your chest with your body underneath him.
You began to scratch his ears and card your fingers through his smooth thick locks of hair. Leona almost purred due to the sensation if he let himself give into it, maybe he would if it was any other day.
“I didn't think you were the type to like this. Though again, maybe I don't know you well enough then.”
“Maybe so.. You know, this is all new to me.. but I don't hate it.”
Sure, maybe it was because it was something other than the usual feelings of annoyance, bitterness, and hatred when it came to different aspects of his life as the second born prince or being the current housewarden of savanaclaw. But maybe, just maybe, it was simply because it was you. You and your whole being. The way you see him as not only a prince but just him, as a beastman and like any other his kind, just Leona.
“So.. you do like it?”
“Don't push your luck, beasty.”
His gaze adores you in so many absolute ways as he spoke. Resting his head on your chest, leaning into your touch with a hidden smile on his lips as he buries his face into you. Maybe just maybe, he'll let you make him vulnerable, just this once.
“.. I just like having you around. i like it way more than I should.”
#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#twst leona#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fic#twisted wonderland#disney twst
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ok so i had an idea for the rb photographer fic if you're up for it
first of all im like in love w ur fics i love em all
and nextly, listen to this..
charles isn't single but manwhore carlos probably is?
he flirts w our photographer and makes max jealous?? roped in by danny ofc to get them together?? what do you think??
anyway have a great day! <33333
UM OKAY THANK YOU! max x rbphotographer!reader are literally everything to me and i am SOO thrilled to have gotten this request. very in character for daniel to get everyone involved in scheming even tho max has told him not to😭 love it so much😇😇 hope u enjoy and i am SOOOO sorry this took so long xx
MV: tonight (i wish i was your boy)
pairing(s): max verstappen x redbull photographer!reader
word count: 1.9k+
Max likes to think he’s not a jealous person.
Max likes to think that— but it doesn’t mean it’s true. Daniel would and has, argued that Max is an abnormally jealous person. In the sense that Max doesn’t like to share. Doesn’t like other people playing with his toys. Not that he thinks of you (or Daniel) as his toy— that’s absurd. He’s a jealous person, not some territorial asshole with an anger problem. (Okay, sometimes he has an anger problem. He’s been working on it. It hardly crops up anymore, but he’s not territorial).
He is, again, bad at sharing, and also uniquely used to getting what he wants.
It’s not because he’s got a crush on you. Despite what Daniel would like to assume. It’s just that you’re meant to be his friend. You’re here with him, because of him. He’s meant to be able to hover around you all night, getting carried away as he tries to explain something meaningless while you give him that half-grin that you don’t even realise you’re doing most of the time. He’s the one who’s supposed to be putting his hand on your back, and leaning in to ask if you’d like another drink—
Not Carlos.
Definitely not Carlos.
(Well, at least it’s not Charles).
Instead, Max is standing next to an overeager Lando at the DJ deck, gripping his drink so hard that he’s mildly concerned the glass will shatter to pieces in his hand. Actually, that’s not such a bad idea to get your attention. Maybe if that happens you’ll stop looking at Carlos Sainz Jr with big googly eyes and you’ll come nurse his hand or whatever it is you’re supposed to do in pathetic little fantasies like the one he’s entertaining. You’re not really the nursing type though, you’re more prone to start freaking out and calling everyone on the Red Bull team to tell them that Max has irreparably damaged his hand.
Max stops entertaining that particular fantasy.
Daniel’s not here, he’s gone home to Australia for a few weeks and skipped out on this weird little grid (+ friends) party that Charles is throwing. This is good and this is bad for Max. On one hand Daniel is not here to rib him about his half-admitted crush on you, on the other hand Daniel is not here to distract him from his half-admitted crush on you. There’s Lando of course, who can be just as good in the distraction department, but it’s not quite the same.
Lando doesn’t quite know about the raging crush, which is probably for the better. He’s been around when Lando’s tried to set up Oscar before and that was an absolute unmitigated disaster.
“Hey man,” speaking of Oscar, “You good?”
Max frowns and then half turns to look at Oscar who’s now hovering next to Lando with a fruity little drink in hand, “Yeah mate,” he answers, confused.
Oscar gets this weird little micro expression on his face that Max wouldn’t usually take any note of— his forehead creases, he raises a disbelieving eyebrow— but the skepticism grates at Max a little, leaves him wondering.
“Why?”, he caves.
Oscar shakes his head, shrugs, “You're kind of staring down Carlos."
Max's mouth falls open, just a little. He is not. His eyes flit to Lando unconsciously for confirmation before he has a chance to defend himself against what are frankly untrue allegations from Oscar. But Lando is already shrugging, making a face that says he has been.
Fuck. Max frowns. And doesn't say anything.
Better to stay quiet and look moody than to admit anything to these two. Total menaces. Well, no that's Lando. Oscar might be helpful. Still, Max isn't going to admit anything. Daniel and apparently Charles knowing about it is more than enough.
Their hushed conversation behind him fades into the background as Max turns again to look at you and Carlos— and alright he gets it now. There's definitely a different kind of set to his jaw, a scowl on his lips as he watches Carlos put his hand on your shoulder.
There is something in his gut. Something sick. The feeling he gets when he's on track and the car starts sliding, the wheels locking up. When hears the va-rum of a car go by, sees something that isn't wide open space in front of him. Something like panic starts to climb up his throat. He knows he shouldn't be this bothered by you and another person, but he can't get rid of this voice in the back of his head that says you might like Carlos more than him. That you might stop hanging around Max, texting him at all hours of the day with photos of your food or random questions, waiting for him in the garage after sessions and not just because you've got to take pictures of him, and going out for food on 'friend dates' as you've taken to calling them.
If you and Carlos... okay no, Max doesn't even want to think about it.
He starts walking over, trying to smooth his face into something less intimidating as he goes. He turns it into a strained, mouth-closed smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He directs it at Carlos.
There's a glint in Carlos' eyes that Max doesn't like the look of.
"Hi Max," he says, flashing his white teeth, he gestures to you, "I was just getting to know your lovely friend here."
Alright. Max understands instantly. This has Daniel's name written all fucking over it. Max's fake smile falls, turning into a flat look that he levels at Carlos. He's trying not to scowl because he doesn't want you to catch on to anything, but it's not easy. His phone is burning a hole in his pocket, he doesn't care if it's the middle of the night in Australia right now, he's itching to call Danny and ask him what the fuck he is thinking pulling something like this from 14,000 kilometers away?
"Mm," Max hums, unimpressed, unable to fake pleasantries even for your sake, "Great."
You look at him, eyebrows raised a little incredulously at his tone. There's slight amusement there too, he thinks, as he returns your look. You squint a little, as if to say, don't give me that look, Max Verstappen. He can feel himself smiling, the corner of his mouth lifting with ease even though the object of his anger still has his stupid hand on your shoulder.
He can't help himself when he reaches for your elbow, asks, "D'you wanna get a drink?"
You bite down on the edge of your smile, "Sure, Maxie."
You turn and say something to Carlos that he doesn't listen to. Partly because he doesn't care, partly because the sound of you saying Maxie is playing on a loop in his head, like it always does whenever you use the nickname. Which is more often than not. God, he loves it. Maxie Maxie Maxie. It sounds so syrupy sweet coming from your mouth. Smothered in affection. You're the only person, bar his mum and sister that he lets use it. Daniel sometimes, but Daniel would say it regardless, the menace that he is.
"Max," you say, hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing back and forth there, "Where'd you go?"
Max blinks. Carlos is gone now.
"Hm, no, nowhere," you frown, so he says, "Just a bit tired."
This seems to satisfy you. You slip an arm into the crook of his, linking them together as you tug him to the bar. You order him a G&T and yourself a glass of wine before the two of you head out onto the balcony where it's far quieter. Less people, less chatter. Max prefers it like this, with no one there to get in the way of your attention on him, his on you. He thinks you prefer it too.
He hopes you do at least.
You sip your wine, Max’s eyes linger on the line of your neck, the way your fingers curl around the glass, how your eyes glitter in the early afternoon sun.
“What was that earlier?”, you gesture inside, raising your eyebrows again, “With Carlos?”
Max laughs nervously without meaning to, “Uh, what do you mean?”
The ‘something sick’ is back in his gut again. He hopes you buy his nonchalance, but doesn’t feel confident you will. You know him too well. That’s his fault.
You sigh, “I mean the dick measuring contest, Maxie.”
Maxie. Maxie.
Then he finally registers your words around the loop of your voice in his head, he guffaws, almost choking on his drink, “The dick measuring contest!?”
“Yes,” you hiss, leaning forward on your stool, “Yes, Max. I’m not an idiot, you were getting territorial.”
Max blinks. Max feels red creeping up his neck. Max feels butterflies and maybe a chainsaw in his stomach.
“Wha—”, he tries again, “I—”
His mouth doesn’t appear to be working. Maybe because he’s not sure what on earth he’s supposed to say. What do you even mean? Are you trying to say that you know he was jealous of Carlos? That you know he has feelings for you? Or are you just referencing the fact that he’s weirdly territorial of his friends sometimes? What is he supposed to say in response to any of it? He can’t figure it out for the life of him.
Then you’re blushing you’re blushing and you’re saying, “You don’t have to worry, Max. You’re my favourite person here.”
Okay, alright, what the fuck does that mean? God. Max hates this. If you were any other girl he’d have asked you out literally years ago. But because you’re you and you’re his best friend besides Daniel, he can’t ask you out. He has to smother his feelings into something platonic because he cannot bear the idea of losing you.
Despite his better judgment telling him not to, Max asks, “Really?”
You hum, “Really, really.”
It happens in slow motion, it must. Or at least that’s how Max replays it in his head every night before he goes to sleep. You reach forward and put your hand over his, fingers on his wrist, thumb drawing a pattern on his upturned palm.
Then you say, in a way that he can’t figure out for the life of him, “Love you, Maxie.”
Chills run down the length of his spine, that chainsaw starts up again in his stomach. Love you, Maxie. He feels sick— like he might word vomit the entirety of his feelings for you right there and then. Instead, he forces himself to smile. Closed-mouth, eyes crinkled.
“Mm, yeah, love you,” he says back, his voice cracking as he tries to make it sound normal and platonic and not wracked with nerves.
You smile, warm, beaming and showing your teeth, like he’s made your day infinitely better by just saying those words. As if you’ve not just made his stomach churn and his heart take leaps and bounds in his chest. As if he’s not going to think about the way you’d said it every second of every day. As if he won’t dream of you saying it in every other context imaginable.
You pat his hand twice, then pull it back to take hold of your drink again. Smiling as if you’ve not ruined him for anyone else for good.
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spencer agnew ideaaaa
reader is tommy’s friend from mythical and meets spencer at a party they end up being found in a closet kissing???
Spilled Punch || Spencer Agnew x reader
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆˚。⋆୨୧˚
summary: when you agreed to go to a smosh party with your best friend tommy, you didn’t imagine enjoying yourself very much. you also didn’t imagine you’d end up making out with spencer in the coat closest 🤭
word count: 3k
warnings: none
a/n: hello love! i hope this is what u wanted—you said tommy and mythical but and i wasn’t sure if you meant trevor but either way, because you said tommy (and because i am not super familiar with mythical) i scrapped the mythical part and went with tommy’s friend. hope that was ok darling, enjoy! also female reader
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“Thanks again for agreeing to be my plus one to this thing,” Tommy said to you as you both walked from his car towards the house ahead.
“Anytime,” you answered, “But you have to promise not to leave me.”
You had been hesitant at first when Tommy asked you to attend a Smosh party with him, in lieu of his boyfriend who was away for the week.
Not because you didn’t want to help Tommy out. He was your best friend and you’d known him since you were both in diapers.
But because you didn’t no anyone here. Not a single person. And you’d be lying if you said that didn’t scare you just a little bit.
You’d heard stories from Tommy about his coworkers of course— Amanda this and Shayne that—but that didn’t mean you actually knew any of them.
“Are you kidding?” Tommy let out a laugh, “Leave you? And have to socialize with people alone? I think not.”
That might have been why you were such good friends.
You smiled at him as you drew closer to the home, a sign that read ‘Welcome, Smosh’ greeting you at the entryway.
According to Tommy, this party was thrown to celebrate Ian and Anthony’s ownership of Smosh. You hoped you dressed right for that occasion. You weren’t sure what outfits said congratulations YouTuber businessmen!
Tommy knocked on the door and the man who must’ve been Ian—he was hosting the event—answered.
“Hey, Tommy! Glad you could make it,” he said.
“As if I would miss a chance to see if Anthony was actually real,” Tommy joked.
“Heard that,” the man who you guessed was Anthony peeked out from behind Ian, stirring a drink.
“He’s not a myth!” Tommy exclaimed.
You cleared your throat not-so-subtly.
“Right,” Tommy started, “Ian, Anthony, this is my friend (Y/n).”
You shook both of their hands in turn. “It’s nice to meet you. Congratulations on the whole buying Smosh thing.”
“Wait, we bought Smosh?” Ian joked, “Anthony, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Wasn’t me,” Anthony teased, “I thought you must’ve.”
You decided you liked both of them as Tommy led you through the doorway.
You were met with a large, spacious living room with decorations and tables dedicated to drinks and refreshments.
You were surprised to see that you were some of the first people to arrived. You’d figured you’d be somewhat late—because Tommy had spent an hour making you rate each of his outfit options before finally selecting one.
Then again, you weren’t exactly surprised you were early—Tommy’s driving still scared you a little bit, but, hey, at least you got places quicker.
“Tommy!” You heard a voice call, and you turned to find a woman standing by the refreshment table and waving your friend over.
“Hey Angela,” he called back, walking towards her. You followed.
“Angela,” Tommy started, “This is—”
“(Y/n)?” She interrupted. “Yeah, seen her on your instagram. Do you know if there’s gonna be a cake?”
“Stalker,” Tommy coughed into his hand and you just laughed.
At least someone here knew who you were.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Angela,” you told her.
“Ditto,” she shot back. “Nice shirt.”
“Thanks,” you beamed. Maybe your outfit choice had been a win after all.
“Hey, are you good if I see if there’s a little boys room around here?” Tommy asked you. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“Go for it,” you told him, “Have fun.”
“I’ll try,” he said, walking down the hall.
You were left with Angela. She was currently eating an olive off of a stick. You were pretty sure those were supposed to go in drinks, but who were you to stop her fun.
You turned your attention to the front door where more people were starting to file in now.
“So,” Angela began, “You wanna see if there’s a cake here?”
But you were distracted by the man who had just entered the house.
He was wearing a blue-and-white striped button down tucked into dark jeans, a black blazer overtop it. You watched as he greeted the hosts and began talking to other partygoers.
“Hey,” you asked Angela, “Who’s that?”
You tried to point out the man as discreetly as you could.
“Spencer?” She said loudly. You winced, glad the party had gotten louder. “What about him? You know him?”
“No, I just—He’s cute,” you confessed, blushing.
She smiled knowingly. “Oh, got it. Want me to call him over here? Spencer!”
“No!” You interrupted her. “No, don’t do that.”
But it was too late. The man—Spencer—must've heard Angela, because he smiled and waved before heading in your direction.
“Hey Ange, what’s up?” He asked her.
“Nothing much,” she rocked back and forth on her feet. “Hey! Have you met (Y/n)?”
Spencer turned to you, his gaze landing on first your face and then your outfit and then back to your face.
You willed yourself not to blush. He was even more attractive up close and the way his eyes bore into yours didn’t exactly do anything to make him less appealing.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Spencer said, “Do you work at Smosh?”
“No,” you answered, “I’m just a plus one.”
“I knew I would’ve remembered you,” he said, picking up on of Angela’s olives.
Now you could do nothing to stop the heat rushing to your cheeks.
“I—” you got out, “I’m just here with Tommy.”
“What about me?” Tommy asked, coming up behind you. “Oh, hey Spencer.”
“Sup man,” Spencer addressed Tommy. “I was just meeting your girlfriend.”
Angela snorted.
“Not my girlfriend,” Tommy rolled his eyes at Spencer.
“His loss,” Spencer turned to you, mock whispering, “You could do better anyway.”
“I’m going to pretend that wasn’t offensive,” Tommy said, picking up one of Angela’s olives before gagging and spitting it out.
“I forgot I hate olives,” he said through coughs.
“Well,” Spencer said, “I can’t be near someone with such bad taste in—vegetables? fruits? whatever the hell olives are—so I’m going to bounce. It was nice meeting you (Y/n). Congratulations on the breakup.”
Spencer gestured between you and Tommy before walking away. You let out a breath.
“Ok, is it just me or was he totally flirting with you?” Angela whispered.
“What?” You raised an eyebrow.
“That was flirting if I’ve ever seen it. Tommy, back me up.”
“As far as straight people flirting goes…yeah. I’d say he was,” Tommy said, considering.
You blushed again. Had he been flirting with you? He had seemed…friendly, at least. You were already sad that he was gone. You liked his quick wit and easy conversation skills.
And the whole finding him really attractive thing didn’t hurt.
“Is it warm in here or is it just me?” You asked them.
“I think it’s Spencer,” Angela sing-songed.
“Very funny,” you crossed your arms. “But actually, I think I’m going to see if there’s a coat closet or something.”
You took off your jacket and headed down the hall. You stopped at the first door you found—it looked closet-like enough.
Judging from the row of sweaters and coats that greeted you, your guess had been correct.
You began to hang your jacket, stopping when you spotted the blazer Spencer had been wearing.
You imagined what it would be like to wear it. Not now, of course—you swore it was like a hundred degrees in there—but you pictured yourself as Spencer’s girlfriend, sharing clothes, his scent engulfing you.
You snapped yourself out of your fantasy. You had just met this man. You hardly knew him.
You quickly hung up your coat, closing the door and taking a minute to collect yourself before heading back out into the party.
Definitely not thinking about seeing Spencer again.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
You had come to the conclusion that a small army must’ve arrived in the short time it took you to discard your layers.
Apparently it was the style to arrive fashionably late, because the party had almost doubled.
Someone had begun blasting music and it was now so crowded that you couldn’t find Tommy amongst the partygoers.
“(Y/n)!” You heard someone call.
After a few seconds of scanning the room, you found Angela waving her arms to get your attention.
You squeezed through people to get to her.
“Are you looking for Tommy?” She had to yell to be heard over the music and chatter.
“Yes!” You shouted back.
“I think I saw him over by the appetizers! Don’t bother looking for a cake though, there isn’t a single slice in this place!” She pointed in the direction she was indicating and you began to make your way over there, bumping into people on your way.
You had just spotted Tommy a few yards away when you saw a flash of movement and suddenly red liquid dripped down your front.
You looked up in confusion to find Spencer directly in front of you, a look of shock on his face as he tried to figure out how he had been pushed forwards.
“My bad,” he shouted, looking down at the now-mostly-empty cup in his hand. “Don’t suppose we could blame this on whoever shoved me?”
You looked down at the dark liquid already forming stains on your light blue top, the fabric clinging to your body.
You shrugged. “What they don’t know can’t hurt them. I’ll transfer my grudge—and the 40 dollars this shirt cost—to whoever shoved you.”
Spencer smiled. “Phew. Glad we got that figured out—I almost had to pay 40 bucks for a shirt.”
“Bold for someone who technically still owes me,” you put your hands on your hips.
“Sorry,” he put his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground. “Believe it or not I’ve actually never spilled punch on a pretty girl before, so I’m kinda playing this by ear.”
You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the room get warmer at his use of the word ‘pretty’.
“I should probably go change out of this,” you gestured to the material hugging your torso. “Good thing I brought a jacket.”
“I’d feel like a jerk if I didn’t offer to come with you,” he said.
“Oh, um, thanks for the offer but—”
“No, I insist,” Spencer cut you off, leaning closer and saying quieter, “Don’t tell anyone, but in not a huge party person.”
“Neither am I,” you confided back. “After you.”
You filed in behind Spencer as you made your way to the hall. It got gradually quieter as you walked farther and farther away from the center of the gathering.
You became aware of the fact that you and Spencer were going somewhere together. Alone.
Your pulse picked up and you told yourself the dampness though felt was just the punch soaking through your shirt.
Once you reached the closet, Spencer hung back and let you open the door.
“How many coats can one party have,” Spencer eyed the row, shaking his head.
“Don’t act like you didn’t contribute,” you said, looking for your jean jacket.
“Technically—” He stopped abruptly, looking at you with a smirk. “How did you know I have a jacket in here? Creep.”
You blushed for the millionth time that night. You’d forgotten when you said it that he didn’t exactly know you’d been eyeing his coat earlier.
“More like observant. You were wearing it when Angela introduced us,” you covered.
“But you don’t know I put it in here,” he raised an eyebrow.
“Where else would you have put it? The bathroom?”
“This coming from the girl wearing punch for a shirt,” Spencer gestured to your top.
“And who’s fault is that?”
“Random party-shover, remember? I thought we agreed that’s where the fault lies.”
“How could I forget,” you stepped into the small room, still digging for your jacket. Was it possible someone had moved it in the short time you’d left it alone?
“Wow, it’s so much quieter in here,” you said, ducking underneath the long shawls and sport coats.
Spencer stepped in with you, and you realized how close you were to him.
“Watch this,” he said, shutting the door and drowning out all noise.
It was calming, the break from the loud chaos. Unfortunately, you couldn’t fully enjoy the calm because the whole being in a tiny closet with Spencer thing didn’t exactly put your nerves at ease.
You turned around, still searching for your new shirt.
“Found it,” Spencer said, and you turned to find him standing next to you and skimming through the rack.
“My jacket?”
“No, the one I’m going to take home!” He pulled out a long, orange-and-purple shawl that looked like something your great-aunt would have worn.
“Good call, brings out your eyes,” you teased. “Oh, here’s my coat!”
You pulled it off the hanger, pausing.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah?”
“I kind of need to change,” you said.
“Oh, right,” he looked vaguely embarrassed. “I’ll just—”
He tried to turn around but got caught in the slew of coats. You giggled as a large sleeve landed on his head.
“New plan,” he finished, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. “My lids are sealed.”
You smiled, even though he couldn’t actually see you, pulling your shirt off and dropping it to the ground.
It was odd, changing in front of him. Even though you knew his eyes were closed, it still felt like he was watching you and you hurried to put the jacket on, buttoning it up quickly.
You looked at Spencer, who was rocking back and forth on his heels. He looked so vulnerable and respectful—and mildly uncomfortable.
Even though you hardly knew him, it felt like you had been acquainted longer. You couldn't attempt to deny your attraction to him. Just in the couple hours you had known him, you already thought he was kind and funny and charming and—
You watched him standing there, eyes still closed. You took a step closer to him, almost involuntarily.
“(Y/n)? Are you trying on all the coats?” His voice brought you back to reality.
“Just the old lady shawl,” you said.
“Well, in that case, you have to let me open my eyes.”
“I already took it off, you’re too late,” you teased. “It was too sexy to be seen by any eyes other than my own.”
Spencer ran his tongue over his bottom lip. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.
“That I believe,” he almost whispered.
You were silent for a moment, before taking another small step towards Spencer.
You took a deep breath.
“(Y/n)? Can I open my eyes now?”
You didn’t answer him, closing the distance between you until you were inches apart.
You took in his features and before you could talk yourself out of it you leaned towards him and placed your lips on his. You felt him tense up.
“You can open them now,” you whispered.
Spencer’s stunned expression lasted only a moment before a heat filled his eyes and suddenly he was kissing you back.
He grabbed your waist with one hand, the other going to rest in your hair as he kissed you harder.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as your back found the wall, engulfing you in the sea of coats.
“God, (Y/n),” Spencer mumbled against your lips.
You gripped him harder. This moment was everything you imagined it would be. This was so much better than the party.
You felt like you could do this for the rest of the night. Because, damn Spencer was a good kisser.
You pressed up against him, deepening the kiss as your nails dug into his shoulder.
Neither one of you noticed the closet door opening.
“(Y/n) was right, it is hot in here,” a voice was saying, but you and Spencer were too wrapped up in each other to notice.
“They can afford an indoor fountain but not a air cond—”
You heard a cry of surprise as the closet door opened fully. You and Spencer pulled apart, gasping as you looked up at Tommy, who looked just as horrified to see you as you were to see him.
“Well,” Tommy started, “I was just saying how hot it was out there, but it seems it’s much hotter in here.”
You and Spencer looked at each other, grinning sheepishly. You were still breathless. You noticed you were standing on a coat that must’ve been knocked from its hanger.
“It’s kind of a long story,” you started.
“Basically there’s some guy out there attacking people with punch,” Spencer finished, looking at you, eyes sparkling.
“I’ll be on the lookout,” Tommy said, a confused look on his features.
You couldn’t stop smiling at Spencer.
“Well,” Tommy clapped his hands together, “I guess I’ll—leave you to it. Have fun.”
“And tell me all about it later,” he mock-whispered to you.
He started to shut the closet door before turning around.
“Oh and (Y/n)?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you toss me my coat?” He gestured to the one that was currently under your foot. You hadn’t even recognized it as his in the dim lighting of the room.
That, and you’d been a bit distracted. Your heart leapt just thinking about what Tommy had interrupted. Your hand found Spencer’s in the dark
“I thought you said it was hot out there?” You asked, throwing his sweater to him.
“It is,” he sighed, “But my keys are in the pocket.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Angela and I are going to go buy a cake.”
“Does that woman think of anything else?” You laughed
“Pick us up some olives,” Spencer threw in, blinking up at him.
“Why not,” Tommy shrugged, “let’s hit all the stores in California.”
“You sure you won’t miss the party?” You asked him.
“Nah, I was gonna bounce anyway. I accidentally shoved some guy pretty hard in the back earlier, but I don’t think he knows it was me. I don’t want to test my luck.”
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this!! look out for more spencer fics in the near future 🫶 also bonus points if you found the himym reference 🤭
#spencer agnew#spencer agnew x reader#smosh x reader#smosh#smosh imagine#smosh fanfiction#tommy bowe#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#x reader
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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!
HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!
wc: 1.4K
notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!
Steve is one attentive boyfriend.
It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.
He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.
So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?
It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?
You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.
“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.
The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.
The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.
"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"
You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"
"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"
"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.
"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"
Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.
"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.
"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."
The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.
Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"
You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.
By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.
Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.
Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.
Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.
"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.
"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"
The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.
"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."
He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.
"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.
"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.
"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."
The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”
He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”
You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.
“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.
“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
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#tysm for the ask!#stevemath#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington writing#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington comfort#serpentwithatardis#aster replies
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