#literally sharing a bed trope
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The most Michael Holden thing you can do, is think about Johnlock.
#help theyre so gay#i love them#and they were roomates#literally sharing a bed trope#i want to write about this#crying
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wait wait wait Geralt and Jaskier/Dandelion sharing a bed is canon in the books??? explicitly canon that they had to share not only a room but a bed cause Geralt was broke as shit at the time??
(to be clear. this makes complete sense in the story, I just think it’s hilarious how fanfic trope-y it feels despite being novel canon)
#andrzej sapkowski voted for there was only one bed in the favorite fanfic trope tumblr poll#(this is misinformation and falsehood but also true in spirit)#geralt of rivia#dandelion#jaskier#the witcher#the witcher novels#dare I say.#geraskier#not really though. geralt if you’re gonna share a bed with your bestie you could do him the courtesy of thinking of him#and not some lady you met literally today
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The possibility of Ace having a big fat crush on Yuu is astounding. Like if they're (this probably won't happen) canon, I want them to have percabeth type of development and maybe dynamic too. Literally peak friends to lovers trope 🤭
....
My god the brainrot is real
#twisted wonderland#twst#ace trappola#twst yuu#headcanon#percabeth#percy jackson#couple#friends to lovers#tropes#the brainrot is real#the only yuu ship that I like#bros literally a ramshakle dweller at this point#asking to share a bed with MC not once but TWICE#then his new tsum event card omg his tsum literally went to ramshackle on its own 😭#aceyuu
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really I just wish Levi (and Adam for that matter) were a little MORE violent like let's fucking cause a scene in this restaurant (classic ali hazelwood id only have two nickels but it's still weird that it happened twice confrontation with sexual rival in a restaurant at an academic conference situation) punch him in the dick in front of all your colleagues! if we're getting into the violent man in your house of it all I want a little blood. but I'm aware that's outside the genre. my fault for finding blood sexy but in my defense he is based on a violent murderous fascist so it's not outside the realm of possibility!
#they are literally the EXACT same book its so funny. bed sharing at the academic conference too good a trope to pass uo#AHU
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yall i cant help it i need to tell SOMEONE but i have this stupid focus app on my phone but ANYWAY in my nano we got one guy that has the good ol fashioned screaming nightmares like, almost every night, and we have the guy who literally insists on sharing a bed with him bc he craves human connection. but so screamer guy has these horrible, sob-inducing nightmares every night but he cant fuckin remember them, or the fact that he was screaming bloody murder. the bed-sharer does NOT (contrary to fanfic expectations) make him stop having the nightmares, but he DOES make it his personal job to 1. hold and console him thru these nightmares (despite screamer guy having no memory of them), and 2. explain (or threaten) anyone nearby into Not Mentioning It
#how much of this was inspired by the works of mxtx and priest?#almost all#it literally was gonna be a word of honor fanfic until i decided i did not want to do the research necessary to justify a longform dive#into a culture i have almost no experience with and did not want to appropriate/butcher horribly#anyway idk if tumblr tags do much at all but here are the seo tags lol#nanowrimo#sharing a bed trope#character dynamics#writcos
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There was only one bed
For my writeblr friends:
What's a trope that you can't help writing over and over again?
#it’s literally in my book#I just love when the two mains have to share a bed#fanfic or book#any media really#classic trope#writeblr#writing tropes#writers on tumblr
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KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON
summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?
word count: 3.2k
MINORS DNI!!
warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).
A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!
Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.
You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.
Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.
The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one the thrift shops you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.
Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.
Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.
As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.
The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.
Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.
It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.
In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.
Then, there was Sunghoon.
You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.
Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.
As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?
The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.
You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.
Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.
You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.
He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.
"How does…kissing feel?"
That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”
You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”
Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”
A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”
Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.
“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.
There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.
But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.
His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.
Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?
He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.
Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.
His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.
“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”
“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”
You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”
Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.
To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.
He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”
His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”
“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”
Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.
He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”
Right?
You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.
The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.
“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.
Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.
Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?
He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.
“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.
Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.
His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.
Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.
Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.
Oh.
You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.
Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.
Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.
You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.
Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.
“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”
“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.
He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.
Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.
Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.
Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.
You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.
He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.
You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.
Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.
His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.
He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.
Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.
You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.
You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.
The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.
His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.
Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.
Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.
Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.
Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.
“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.
Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.
“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.
You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.
All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.
“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.
Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.
You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.
He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.
"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.
"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon smut#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#best friends#lovers#kpop smut#smut
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for the night.
the flight back from a case gets delayed and the team’s forced to book rooms for the night. what a coincidence that you’re paired with spencer.
pairing :: s5!spencer x fem bau!reader
warnings :: fluff, flustered spencer, this is literally just an excuse to write about spencer with crutches
word count :: 1.7k
author’s note :: one of my favorite tropes asfdfafssfsd we all know where this is going right ;)
accompanying song :: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas
“i have to admit, i am quite surprised. engine failures are extremely rare — statistically, they only occur once every 1.4 million flight hours.”
“uh-huh, very interesting.” you roll your eyes, but the smile that tempts to play on your lips is too overpowering to withhold.
“it is!” spencer excitedly flashes you a smile. “we’re actually incredibly lucky to avoid an in-flight shutdown, which typically happens once per million flight hours-”
“reid, i think our luck might be running dry here. it’s 1 a.m., the jet’s engines are acting up, and we can’t leave portland.”
you take both of his crutches in your hands with an exasperated sigh. it’s not his fault, and you know better than to project your annoyance at him, but the disappointment of not being able to enjoy a nice, hot shower in the walls of your home has you uptight.
with an apologetic smile, you extend your shoulder to spencer; slowly, he places his hand on you, and you help him carefully descend the jet’s stairs.
the two of you are the last to join the rest of the group on the ground, and hotch sends an acknowledging nod in your direction once he sees that you’ve been assisting spencer.
“l/n, reid, you guys okay with rooming together for the night?”
the words don’t initially register, and it’s only until spencer speaks up that you realize hotch isn’t asking – he’s confirming.
“we’re rooming in pairs?”
hotch nods, and his sidelong stare roams over spencer’s face like he’s challenging him to continue, to contest his proposal.
“emily? jj?” you pipe up this time, sending a pleading glance at both of them. they look back at you with sheepish smiles.
“it looked like you guys were having a really good conversation back there. didn’t want to disturb you,” emily returns, slowly raising her shoulders and mouthing sorry.
spencer clears his throat and leans into your ear. “i can probably book a room at another place-”
you widen your eyes and immediately shake your head. “no, that’s not necessary, i’m completely fine with it! unless you’re… not?”
this time, spencer’s the one shaking his head fervently. “oh no, i’m entirely comfortable, perfectly content, uh- sharing a room with you.”
you display an awkward grin. “alright then, perfect.”
—
“i’ll set your bag on the table, is that okay?”
“yeah, thanks a lot.”
you heave a sigh of relief as you close the door behind you and rest spencer’s bookbag on the wooden table. spencer slowly lowers himself into a chair, and you gently lean his crutches against the walls near the door.
you’re pleasantly surprised by the room’s decor; its soft carpet floor and mahogany picture frames hanging from the walls easily exceed your expectations for a traditional hotel room.
you’re about to make a comment commending the room’s quality when your eyes zero in on a terrifying sight.
there’s only one bed.
you do a double take, circling around the bedroom once more to check if there’s an extra mattress lying around somewhere – at this point, you really wouldn’t mind if the bed has a trundle.
“fuck me.”
“what?”
spencer’s eyes immediately divert to you, and he stifles his reaction to your comment with a hasty cough.
you point to the bed, which prompts spencer to crane his neck to get a better view.
“there’s only one bed.”
spencer’s eyes widen, and his gaze snaps up to your face so fast you wonder if you’ve just made a grave mistake of telling him.
he was bound to find out anyway.
“it’s okay, i’ll take-” you start, but he cuts you off short.
“the floor? not a chance.”
you press your lips together tightly and gesture to his leg. “please, take the bed. your leg… you’re injured.”
spencer looks down at the floor briefly, a light shade of pink spreading across his face. “no, we can… we can share the bed.”
you feel your cheeks grow hot at his suggestion, but a refusal fails to surface on your lips.
moving your hands to your hips, you nod slowly. “only because you’re insisting,” you murmur.
a brief silence veils the air, and the two of you have utterly no idea what to do next — neither of you wants to be the one to crawl into bed first.
but the clock’s hour hand had just moved past the two, and you know your eyelids aren’t going to stay open for much longer.
with a weary sigh, you gesture towards the lightswitch. “do you mind if we dimmed the lights a little?”
spencer turns, almost hobbling on his leg, and flips the switch for you. the room turns dark almost instantly, but a faint light emanates from a lamp on the nightstand.
“are you, um, going to sleep soon?”
you hate to be the first one to bring it up, but you have to — you can practically feel the tiredness tempting you like a fuzzy blanket.
“uh yeah, we should sleep.”
you watch as spencer grabs a pillow from his side of the bed and positions it near the edge of the mattress. you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he props himself onto the bed and rests his leg on top of the pillow, elevating his casted knee.
oh. as the realization hits you, you reach for your own pillow and gently place it next to his head. “here, use this.”
“that’s your pillow.”
“i know.”
a soft chuckle sounds from his throat as spencer raises his head ever so slightly, allowing you to tuck the pillow beneath him.
“thanks,” he murmurs, and pats at the space next to him, urging you to join him on the bed.
once you’ve slipped your feet into the blanket, spencer stretches his arm to turn off the lamp and moves back to whisper a hushed good night into your ear.
you turn to say it back. “good n-”
his hand gently starts to wedge under your neck, and as he moves, strands of your hair coil around his fingers.
he’s offering his arm as a pillow.
you lie frozen, your breath hitched in your throat, as his arm extends fully beneath you.
“spence,” you exhale, caught off-guard by the sudden move.
“it’s okay. don’t worry about me,” he softly whispers, inclining his head towards your face.
you smile, though you doubt he can see your face in the pitch-black darkness.
“sweet dreams,” you hum, and close your eyes to let sleep overtake you.
—
you wake up not to the sound of your alarm, not to the birds usually perched on the tree outside your window, but to the sound of spencer clearing his throat.
you think it’s a dream at first, but you can feel everything — the vibrations coming from his throat like he’s talking to you, his hands stroking a pattern on your back, his breaths tickling your hair.
you open your eyes to see spencer staring back at you with flustered cheeks, his eyes flickering back and forth between your face and…
you follow his gaze and look down, only to see that your leg’s wrapped casually around his hips, anchoring him to the bed. with a panicked yelp, you immediately retract your leg and leap out of the bed, frantically apologizing to him over and over again.
“i’m so sorry about that, d-did i hurt you?”
your voice sounds scratchy from your parched throat, but how you sound right now is the least of your concerns.
spencer chuckles softly before slowly sitting up. “no, you didn’t do anything.”
you let out a relieved sigh at his response.
spencer grunts as he lifts himself up, tenderly listening to your continued apologies with a warm smile.
“by the way,” he starts, fixing his tie and reaching for his suit jacket, “we're a little late.”
“what?” you gasp, hurriedly tucking your dress shirt into your trousers, “fuck. how late?”
a pause, and then: “five minutes and twenty seconds.”
“oh my god,” you squeal as you fling your and spencer’s bag over your shoulders, “they’re probably all waiting for us.”
quickly turning the doorknob and making way for spencer’s crutches to move past the door, you rush to the elevator and hit the juddering call button.
“next time, you’re-“ you cough out as you try to catch your breath, “-you’re welcome to just push me off the bed. it’s guaranteed to wake me up instantly.”
spencer looks at you questioningly, a small grin spreading across his lips. “next time?”
you clasp a hand over your mouth. “wait no, i meant – hopefully we’ll never have to sleep in a room together ever again, but i’m saying in case-“
spencer tilts his head and lets out an amused laugh. thankfully, the elevator doors open just in time, and you’re spared the trouble of having to explain yourself further.
you bite your lips as the image of his lopsided grin lingers in the back of your mind, and the fresh regret of your words burns your face like a hot fever.
the embarrassment doesn’t end, however, as the doors open once again to reveal your team standing right outside. when the elevator’s chime echoes throughout the lobby, everyone’s heads turn to you and spencer.
you walk out with nervous steps, grimacing when hotch merely nods and announces that the plane is ready for takeoff. spencer makes his way over to derek, who tousles his hair teasingly.
“so, how’d you sleep last night?”
you freeze when rossi’s husky voice drifts into your ears.
you force out a smile. “i definitely could’ve slept better.”
“really?” he hums with a smirk, “i slept like a baby.”
“yeah, you upgraded your room, we get it, you’re rich,” you sigh, eliciting a hearty chuckle from the older agent.
once seated in your usual seat on the jet, you’re accompanied by spencer and morgan, who slump into their seats across from you.
you watch suspiciously as morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you and nudges his elbow into spencer’s sides. “so, late night, huh?”
spencer looks at you briefly, flushed cheeks failing to suppress the smile splaying across his face.
“shut up.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x you
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sharing a bed (trope bingo)
A/N: i could melt (pun not intended. you’ll see) this trope is literally my fav, all my fics would be about it if i could… (gif creds: @bubbarnes)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader
Summary: You're cold, Bucky's a living heater. Need I say more? 1.2k words
Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, sharing a bed, cuddling, nervous/borderline horny Bucky, pet names (doll, sweetheart)
You should have made this decision before your fingertips went numb. November in a northern motel room found you freezing. In basketball shorts and a crewneck, no less. You should have been in California by now, but Bucky has been dragging his feet since Maine. Though, he does drive more than half the time, so it's a sacrifice you had been willing to take.
There's no snow on the ground, but you can feel the beginnings of it on the damp pavement. Your socks are soaked through, and you cringe making a mental note to burn them. You cross your arms over your chest and tuck your fingers under your armpits, jaw clacking as you shiver. The heater in your room scuttled hurriedly to a wheezing stop five minutes after whacking it alive.
Now you're shifting from left to right outside Bucky's door with your blood about to run purple. He hollered something through the door when you knocked the second time. It was either a it's unlocked or a don't come in and you don't trust your hearing enough to distinguish between the two at midnight.
"Bucky," you whine, resting your forehead just below the peephole and trying to shake the low beating sound from your ears. You lift your head. Footsteps then a rattling chain, and he whips the door open.
"Why are you up?"
"What?" How could he be annoyed right now when you're freezing your ass off and you can practically feel the heat rolling out of his room in waves. "I'm cold."
"Well... what am I supposed to do about that?"
You roll your eyes and glare up at him. You could swear he's doing it on purpose. You could swear he's making mental bets just to play with you. Right now he's betting all his cash on who'll crack first. His bet's on you. It always is.
"James, I swear to fucking God—I will walk back to Brooklyn if you don't—"
"Jesus, don't have an aneurism, doll. Come in," he mumbles. You follow him into the little square motel room: one bed, one table, half a bathroom. Plus a TV that only plays soaps and, half the time, crackles with static. The door shuts, and you sigh. You're swaddled by heat; the blood gushes back into the tip of your nose. You can feel your joints again.
"Take this." He tosses a coat at you. At you. It's heavy and green and thick. It's army grade. "Put it on." So you put it on and zip it up. He chuckles at the sight of you because the jacket is massive: down to your knees, quarter-foot past your fingertips. It dwarfs you. It's incredible.
"I feel like a gym teacher."
"What?"
"It's a... mm… nevermind," you hum, "'M tired." Your eyes sink shut, and he watches you from the bed, entertained by your sleep-standing act. For a second, he thinks you're actually gonna fall asleep like that. But then your eyes snap wide open and he looks away.
Bucky shuffles under the sheets, and you watch him curiously through the window of the coat's hood. You suppose you'd missed the fact that he's wearing only boxers, completely shirtless with his cropped hair messily flared around his head. You start to sweat.
He looks up when you whine. "What now?"
"... It's hot."
"You're killin' me, doll."
"I know, I'm sorry," you huff, hands fiddling the flannel insides of the hot jacket sleeves. He watches you struggle to glance at the floor and becomes flush with pity for you. He sighs.
"Alright, hon, take that off and c'mere. We'll get you warm, hmm? Come here."
You flail your arm before latching onto the metal zipper tab and tugging it down with a hissing bzzzz. Bucky watches you relax and let the coat slump to the floor before you peel your socks off and toss them in the small metal trashcan by the door. You pad your way to the empty side of the bed and pat the moth-eaten comforter a few times, smoothing your hand over the soft cotton.
"Don't be shy now. I probably won't bite," he teases.
"You piss me off, Barnes."
"Oh, feel free to freeze your ass off in your room, sweetheart. I'm doin' you a favor."
You harrumph and swing your legs onto the mattress, sliding yourself under the sheets and tucking the blankets under your chin. You face the door, and Bucky settles in beside you, leaving a comfortable six inches of space between you. He faces the wall.
"Night, Bucky."
"Goodnight."
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and you don't know when Bucky got so close. Or when you turned around. What you do know is that Bucky runs red hot in the middle of the night. Or maybe all the time, but you've never been skin-to-skin in the day. Hell could freeze over and Bucky would still be an inferno.
Sometime between two and three, you tossed around and ended up facing him as he crept closer unconsciously. His hands felt empty in dreams about dancing, so he reached into the darkness and tucked his fingers into the crooks of your knees to draw you into his warm body. On instinct—and because you're still in need of thawing—you curl into him and let your heart beat comfortably alongside his.
Bucky's a talker. He's a vocal sleeper. Good thing his deal was talking. Becca got saddled with sleep walking, and he remembers Ma asking him to install an extra lock high up to keep her from wandering out at twilight. Again. They'd found her mumbling at a brick wall half a block away one night and decided it was for the best.
Now he's rambling on about goats, describing their rough coats as he nuzzles into your navel. His palm spread over your back, he keeps you close, taut to every bit of his body, your leg draped over his waist.
He moans. Loud. And you shift in your sleep, fingers moving to cup the back of his head, brushing through his soft hair. His scalp is hot, and you sigh lazily as you melt further into his tight skin and smooth muscle. If either of you had woken up, it would've been a bloodbath. But for now, it's peaceful, and a dove coos from a lamppost outside.
A couple of times, you open your eyes but find yourself so disoriented, you can't bother to assume it's anymore than a dream and pass out again. At the crack of dawn, Bucky's lashes flutter open, and each of his veins flows with new life and the rising sun. It takes a second for him to realize he's breathing in the warmth of your skin. And he doesn't hate it.
He falls back asleep.
In the morning, you're both too busy adjusting to central standard time to register that you'd been pressed up close and personal all night. Too busy to acknowledge the comfort you both found in each others arms. And hands.
Over breakfast at the twenty-four-hour diner, he smiles meekly, and you blink down at your short stack like nothing happened. Like nothing ever will.
marvel masterlist
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes trope bingo#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#x reader#fluff#tropes#marvel fanfic#marvel
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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion.
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?”
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!”
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.”
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.”
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.”
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.”
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman.
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought.
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her.
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.”
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed.
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.”
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.”
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated.
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.”
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand.
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?”
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.”
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.”
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up.
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said.
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.”
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?”
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe.
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about.
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.”
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed.
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.”
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?”
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.”
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.”
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.”
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.”
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.”
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room.
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?”
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door.
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.”
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!”
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on?
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled.
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you.
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.”
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably.
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor.
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.”
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?”
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.”
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.”
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in.
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there.
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.��
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin.
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?”
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair.
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly.
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief.
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed.
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said.
“Okay, so neither of us do.”
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.”
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?”
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?”
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.”
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it.
“Well?” Zoro prompted.
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.”
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.”
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.”
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.”
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.”
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?”
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.”
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?"
“Positive. It’s all me.”
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed.
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?”
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.”
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?”
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.”
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered.
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh.
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.”
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.”
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him.
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?”
“Hm?”
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—”
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought.
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?”
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.”
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.”
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered.
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped.
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?”
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.”
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.”
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.”
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between.
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body.
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly.
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered.
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught.
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black.
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn.
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together.
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?”
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.”
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…”
“First?” you prompted.
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go.
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight.
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—”
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.”
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.”
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass.
© halfvalid 2023
#opla zoro#opla roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#reader insert#x reader#one piece live action#one piece netflix#opla#opla zoro x reader#opla fanfiction#opla fanfic#kiki writes!
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LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 2
Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)
WC: 3.6K
Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, and curse words
Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3
She didn’t know how, but Y/N had eventually managed to fall asleep in that freezing cold room. It actually didn’t even feel that cold anymore when she woke up in the morning. Nevertheless, she tugged the blanket up higher and buried her head further into the pillow. That’s when she noticed it – the heavy weight that was tightly gripping her waist, and the source of warmth against her. How had this happened? She was not even five centimetres away from the edge of the bed.
That little fucker.
Poor Lando wasn’t even properly awake when he was basically flung across the bed. He blinked groggily, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He looked up at her in confusion. “What the hell?” he grumbled, still trying to shake off the sleepiness.
Y/N, fuming, sat up and glared at him. “You were practically spooning me, Lando! What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Lando, rubbing his eyes, mumbled defensively, “I didn’t mean to! I must have just… rolled over in my sleep.”
She narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger in his face. “I warned you about this, Lando! I told you if you would cross over to my side I’d get Max to take care of you!”
Lando, now more awake, sat up and looked at her, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I believe there was a promise of choking involved, too?”
Y/N’s jaw was slack in shock at his boldness. “Don’t be smart!”
“Come on, you were pretty cosy with me, too—”
“Cosy with you? I was on the edge of the bed! I literally would’ve fallen off if I moved any closer to the edge,” Y/N protested.
“You didn’t seem to mind the extra warmth,” Lando shrugged.
She glared at him. “Oh, please. It’s not like I had much of a choice with you clinging to me.”
Lando shook his head at her fiery temper; it was far too early for this. “Well, it’s not like you tried to push me away. I think you’re just too scared to admit you liked it,” he said, his smirk widening.
“Are you kidding me? I was practically falling off the bed. That was not enjoyment, that was survival. If you think that’s what enjoyment looks like, you’re obviously not very good in bed,” Y/N huffed, getting out of bed to collect her stuff.
“Wow, okay. I’ll have you know I’m very skilled, I get compliments all the time.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Overcompensating much?”
Lando smiled suggestively, “If you want, you could find out for yourself.”
“Ugh, gross. Absolutely not. One night of accidental cuddling is more than enough.”
“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to provide a demonstration,” Lando smirked.
“Dream on,” she concluded, stalking into the bathroom.
– – – – –
Half an hour later Lando and Y/N had joined Max and Pietra downstairs for breakfast, the intense discussion long forgotten. The soft sound of clattering plates and cutlery filled the hotel restaurant when they sat down. The group slowly ate their breakfast while they talked about possible activities for the day. After a vote, the plan was set: a morning hike, followed by an afternoon of exploring the town – especially the cute stores they spotted on their way.
And so, soon after they finished up their breakfast, they set out for their hike before it got too hot. The scenery was stunning; different types of trees and plants lined the pathway they followed, the sun shining through the leaves above them and every now and then, through the heavy bush, they could see the beautiful view of a lake nearby with tall mountains in the back. Unfortunately, the gorgeous sight was marred by Lando’s presence. Of course, he had to walk right behind Y/N, and couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.
“Careful there, don’t trip,” Lando told her as she manoeuvred over a large rock with little grip.
Y/N shot him a glare over her shoulder, mistaking the sincere concern in his voice for teasing. “I’ll take you down with me.”
Lando was surprised at the sharp response – he didn’t mean to insult or mock her. Y/N had always been witty; she always had a comeback ready for whatever Lando said, but she had never been good at noticing when Lando was genuine instead of taunting. She usually took all his comments as banter, even his attempts at flirting. Her consistent rejections made him play along; turning it into a joke instead of a true effort at pursuing his best friend’s sister. Maybe it was for the best; the dynamic worked, and Max would never allow anything more than friendship between them anyway.
When the group reached the edge of the lake, they decided to take a break. They climbed down the rocks carefully and perched themselves on large stones scattered at the waterfront. Max searched through his backpack for the snacks Pietra had made them bring and offered everyone some. They drank water, ate something, and took a few pictures of the gorgeous view before continuing their hike.
Lando was the first to climb up the steep rocks back to the trail. He looked down while he waited for the rest, watching as Y/N struggled to find solid footing for the rather difficult climb.
“Let me help you,” Lando offered, holding out his hand for her to take.
She glanced up at him. “I’m fine,” she said dismissively, right as her foot slipped. Before she knew it, she was reaching out for his hand, grasping it tightly while he steadied her. His grip was strong and he knelt closer to offer his other hand in case she should need it, gently pointing out where she should step next. His unwanted help annoyed her; she could do it herself, she just needed to regain her balance first. Regardless, she followed Lando’s advice, his casual yet firm guidance impossible to refuse.
Once back on solid ground, Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck, embarrassed by her misstep and flustered by how unusually kind Lando had been. She avoided his gaze, brushing off her clothes as if that would somehow dismiss the moment. "Thanks," she muttered quickly, hoping to move on.
"No problem," Lando replied, his voice softer than usual. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart for making her uncomfortable; his only intention had been to help. As he watched her avoid his gaze, he couldn’t help but think she looked cute – adorable, even, all flustered and embarrassed. The way her cheeks flushed slightly warmed his heart. Normally, she would only show him her strong and independent side, always refusing to accept his help or express her true emotions when he was near. She didn’t want him to see her in a vulnerable state, but sometimes it couldn’t be avoided. And whenever Lando managed to catch a glimpse of that softer side, like now, all he felt was the overwhelming urge to protect her.
Lando shook his thoughts away, and continued his way, not straying from the trail this time. He walked next to Max, while Pietra followed Y/N closely, letting a distance grow between them and the boys further ahead.
“What was that?” Pietra asked her.
“What?”
“You know, Lando helping you, and then you blushing like crazy,” she clarified.
Y/N laughed nervously, “What? It was nothing!”
“Mhm, sure. You guys already seemed weird at breakfast. Did something happen last night?”
Y/N sighed, checking how far ahead the boys were. She deemed them far enough to be unable to eavesdrop. “Lando cuddled me tonight,” she admitted hesitantly.
“What?” Pietra nearly screeched.
“Yes. I don’t know how it happened. I was as close to the edge as possible, like five more centimetres and I would’ve fallen off,” she told Pietra, looking at her over her shoulder, “I even threatened that I would choke him in his sleep if he crossed to my half of the bed, but it made no difference…”
“So Lando cuddled you in his sleep, and now he helped you up the rocks? I have a feeling he’s got a crush on you, babes,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Y/N laughed, “Oh, please, P. That’s not true, he’s been bothering me for five years now.”
She merely shrugged, a knowing smile on her face. Y/N rolled her eyes – she knew better than that.
They finished the hike half an hour later, not counting the brief stop at the viewpoint. Once back at the hotel, they quickly freshened up and wasted no time heading out again, eager to explore the nearby boutiques and picturesque streets lined with quaint houses. After grabbing coffee and a pastry at a small cafe, they began exploring the local shops.
The group split up as they wandered off to different stores. Y/N found herself drifting toward a small bookstore tucked away on a quiet street. She’d forgotten to pack a book for the trip – not that it would have fit in her overstuffed suitcase anyway. She picked up several books from the English section, reading the backs one by one, trying to decide which one she should read this vacation.
“Now that seems like a good literary piece,” Lando said from behind her, startling her.
“Jesus, Lando. Why would you do that?” She said, grabbing her chest with her free hand, nearly dropping the heavy books in the other.
Lando grinned. “You’re too easy to scare,” he teased, casually leaning against one of the shelves. “What are you looking at anyway?”
Y/N handed him one of the books. “Hm, a romance novel?” He said curiously and she flushed at the implication.
“Not just a romance novel, it—”
“Anything where the main characters kiss is automatically romance, isn’t it?”
She sighed; Lando grinned.
“Why are you here? For as far as I know, you don’t read,” Y/N told him, taking the book from his hands, weighing her options.
“Thought I’d check on you. Make sure you didn’t get lost,”
Rolling her eyes, she put all books but one back in their places. “More like make sure you had another chance to annoy me,” she huffed, grabbing another book off the shelf.
Lando watched in amusement as she flipped through a few of the pages before putting it back.
“Okay, I’m buying this one. Do you want to look at a book for yourself, or can we leave?”
“I’m good,” he responded with that annoying smug smile of his tugging at his lips.
“Alright, then.” She nodded before heading to the register and paying for the book. Lando followed her out of the store and led them to a different one where Pietra and Max were waiting. They visited more stores until they felt it was time for dinner. As they were already in the town centre, they just walked around a bit until they found a restaurant that seemed to please everyone.
Y/N sat down at the table they were directed to, hanging her bag with the book on the chair. When she looked up again she saw that Lando had already claimed the seat next to her. She shot a questioning look at Pietra, who was sitting across from her, subtly signing with her eyes, ‘What is up with him?’ Pietra’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with amusement. She gave a small shrug as if to say, ‘You tell me’.
Dinner went much smoother this time around, especially since Lando couldn’t constantly stare at her face from her side. They had enough to talk about after all they had seen and decided to discuss their plans for tomorrow ahead of time. It would be a beach day, so the timing of buying the book was perfect.
Halfway through the meal, Y/N felt the light pressure of Lando’s arm casually resting on the back of her chair. It wasn’t touching her exactly, but it was close enough to make her aware of his presence. She froze for a second, her fork hovering in midair as her body tensed.
Lando didn’t say anything, just continued eating as if nothing had happened.
Y/N glanced across the table at Pietra, widening her eyes slightly, slightly nudging her head to Lando’s arm. Pietra took a sip of her drink, suppressing a smirk as she met Y/N’s gaze.
She looked at Lando in annoyance before shifting in her seat, leaning slightly to the other side to put more distance between them.
Lando, of course, noticed. He turned to face her straight away with a confused look.
“Get your arm off my chair,” Y/N said harshly.
Lando raised an eyebrow, his expression mockingly innocent. “What? I’m not even touching you.”
Y/N glared at him, her voice firm. “You’re close enough.”
Lando chuckled under his breath, clearly amused by her irritation. “Oh, come on. I’m just being friendly.”
“Friendly would be keeping your hands to yourself,” she shot back, trying to ignore how much his teasing actually made her pulse race.
Lando raised his hands in surrender, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. “No need to get all worked up.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the warmth creeping up her neck. “You wish I’d get worked up over you. I’d just prefer if you didn’t touch me.”
Lando shrugged. “For not wanting to touch me, you seemed to hold onto my hand pretty tightly earlier,” he teased, leaning closer while Max eyed you in surprise.
Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she recalled the moment he helped her up, a blush once again covering her face at the memory. “I was trying not to fall, I wasn’t touching you voluntarily.”
Lando chuckled softly, the sound annoyingly charming. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
Y/N gaped at Pietra, who was still staring at her with a knowing smirk. She groaned in frustration before the conversation continued. Only a second later realising Lando still hadn’t removed his arm, she sent him another glare but didn’t bother asking him again.
The rest of the dinner passed relatively smoothly. Lando didn’t provoke Y/N much while they all chatted about tomorrow’s beach day and laughed about Max’s story of how he got stung by a jellyfish a few years back. By the end of the meal, Y/N had only needed to throw in a few comebacks and thought she kept her temper pretty well.
They paid the bill and left the restaurant, where the cool evening air greeted them. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, the lingering warmth of the meal dissipating quickly in the cool night breeze. The four of them strolled back towards the hotel, the streetlights casting shadows on the pavement.
In the elevator, Max and Pietra talked about what time they’d set out for the beach tomorrow, while Y/N leant against the wall, tired from the day’s activities, trying to ignore the fact that she and Lando would be alone again once they got back to their shared room.
When they finally reached their floor, Y/N said a quick goodbye to her brother and his girlfriend before trailing after Lando. She kicked off her shoes as soon as she entered the room and went in search of her toiletries. Once she’d gathered everything she needed, she made a beeline to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower,” she announced, before promptly closing the door behind her.
The clattering sound of the running water was a welcome distraction from her busy mind which, for some reason, kept replaying the moment in the forest. She could feel Lando’s calloused hand holding hers tightly every time the image reappeared in her head, the same tingling feeling emerging along with it, too. She could see the gentle look on his face, and feel her embarrassment at nearly falling on her face – it was like she was there again. The repeating memory was just as annoying as the man prominently featured in it. The man who seemed to always find a way to irritate her, even when she was alone, in the shower.
She banished the recollection to the back of her mind and finished up her shower. She quickly dried herself off and put her underwear and top on before she reached for her shorts, only to realise they weren’t there. She sighed deeply, mumbling to herself, “Of course, I forgot my shorts. Why would anything go my way for once.”
She groaned, running her hands over her face when another realisation came, “God, why did I only bring thongs?”
She squealed into the towel, a loud high-pitched sound, at her own stupidity.
”It’s all Max’s fault. If he hadn’t screwed up and gotten me my own room, everything would have been fine, but no!” She grumbled leaning her elbows on the counter, burying her face in her hands. “I’m going to kill him one of these days.”
Meanwhile, Lando had settled onto the bed, leisurely lying back, hands behind his head while he watched a random movie. Unbeknownst to Y/N, he could hear her frustrated mumbling coming from the bathroom, but he chose to remain silent until he heard her voice calling out louder.
“Lando?”
“Hm?” He responded uninterestedly.
“Could you please hand me my pyjamas? I forgot them…”
“Nah, I’m comfy. You’ll have to get them yourself.”
Y/N poked her head out the door. “Are you serious, Lando? I literally only have my underwear in here.”
Lando shrugged, not looking away from the TV, causing Y/N to sigh.
“Lando,” she warned, “if you don’t hand them to me, I swear—”
“I won’t look, promise,” he said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.
With a deep sigh, Y/N tightened the short towel around her before she carefully stepped out of the bathroom, scanning the room to make sure Lando was keeping his word. He was lying in bed, hands behind his head, eyes lazily watching the TV playing some rerun of an old movie.
She tiptoed to the chair, where she thought her pyjamas were, but they weren’t there. Her eyes narrowed. Of course, they’d gone missing.
Muttering under her breath, she began searching through the drawers, still holding the towel tightly around her body. She bent down, checking the bottom drawer when she heard a low, barely audible curse behind her.
“Fuck,” Lando muttered, breaking the silence.
Y/N froze for a second before whirling around, catching his eyes very clearly locked on her. “What the hell, Lando! You promised you wouldn’t look!”
“Well, you said you only brought thongs. That’s not exactly encouraging me to look away.”
“You heard that? You know what, never mind. Fuck off, Lando. Where’s your decency?”
“Non-existent,” he replied with a smirk.
“Look away, Lando.”
“I don’t see the appeal,” he said, his smirk growing.
“I swear to God, I’m going to kill you someday.”
“Have you thought yet about how? ‘Cause I’ve got a suggestion.”
She glared at him from across the room. “Do I even want to hear it?”
A playful grin spread across his face at her frustration, “Having you sit on my face seems like a pretty good way to go…”
“God, Lando. Get your head out of the gutter!” She exclaimed, mortified at his blunt response.
Y/N huffed in exasperation, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she turned her back to him, tightened the towel, and continued searching for her shorts. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath, rummaging through the drawers with a little more force than necessary. Did he have no shame?
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room in growing frustration, her shorts nowhere to be found. She groaned softly, starting to doubt herself. Maybe she hadn’t packed them at all? No, that couldn’t be right, she wore them last night. They had to be around somewhere.
Lando, who had been watching her search in mild amusement, raised an eyebrow when she turned back to him with an accusing look. "You didn’t take my shorts, did you?"
He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”
“Because the worst is usually true!” she snapped back, still glaring as if that would somehow force him to confess.
Lando chuckled. “I swear, I didn’t touch them,” he paused, a mischievous smile on his face, “but you might want to check under the closet.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes but reluctantly looked under the closet, this time turning her back away from Lando – he had seen enough of her. Sure enough, her shorts were hidden underneath the closet, all the way to the back.
“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her.
Lando shot her a smug grin. “See? Sometimes the problem isn’t me – sometimes it’s you.”
She ignored his comment and grabbed the shorts, quickly making her way back to the bathroom to change. She let out a deep breath as she slipped into her pyjamas, mentally cursing herself.
Once she was dressed and ready for bed, she walked out, trying to keep her expression neutral. Lando was now walking around the room, collecting his toiletries and making a big deal of grabbing his pyjamas before disappearing into the bathroom while she settled into her side of the bed. She busied herself with her phone as she waited for Lando to come back before she turned off the light.
She pulled the blanket up high and immediately turned on her side. “Goodnight,” she mumbled, “you better stay on your side tonight.”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Lando replied overly sweet, as if mocking her warning.
She felt Lando shift in the bed as he lay down, but it stayed at that. Maybe she would have a peaceful night tonight.
– – – – –
Part 3
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Hi!! I would like to request somn! (Twst)
I've been thinking, since early in the story the ramshackle dorm is rundown and old and basically abandoned
so what if MC/Yuu tried to sleep on their bed but ofc since its old it just breaks and hurts their back
so may i request to see if Ruggie, Azul and Idia (separated) would let MC/Yuu sleep with them on their bed? (romantic btw)
(or they can let them sleep on the FLOOR-)
Sharing a bed with Ruggie, Azul, Idia
I wanted to make them sleep on the floor just for giggles but I love the single bed trope too much to let it go. thanks for the request <3
You’d think after everything that had happened to you—being thrown into some magic-filled hellscape, dealing with literal monsters and chaotic students—that the universe would cut you a little slack. But no, apparently, even when you’re just trying to go to bed, Ramshackle Dorm has other plans.
You had just flopped onto your ancient, creaky bed, exhausted from a day of not dying, when—CRACK.
The bedframe split right down the middle, sending you crashing to the floor with the most undignified yelp you’d ever made. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how the universe hated you this much.
“Well. That’s just great,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your sore back. You tried to push the mattress back into place, but it was hopeless. The bed was dead. There was no fixing it tonight.
Which left you with only one option: find someone to share a bed with.
Ruggie Bucchi
You trudged to Ruggie’s dorm room, knocking on the door with the energy of someone who had been emotionally crushed along with their bed. The door creaked open to reveal Ruggie’s grinning face.
“Eh? What’re you doin’ here at this hour, huh?”
“My bed broke,” you deadpanned. “I need somewhere to crash.”
Ruggie blinked, then snorted. “The ghost bed finally gave up, huh? Figures.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t deny he had a point. “Can I sleep here or not?”
Ruggie grinned wider, obviously enjoying your misery. “Yeah, sure, come on in. But don’t expect me to give up the whole bed. I ain’t got much space.”
“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll take a corner. Just… let me sleep.”
You climbed into his surprisingly cozy bed, and he made a big show of sprawling out, starfish-style, as if trying to take up every inch of space. “Comfy, huh?”
“Very,” you muttered sarcastically, but as you shifted to find a spot, you felt the warmth of his body near yours.
Somehow, as you drifted off to sleep, you both ended up gravitating closer, until you woke up in the middle of the night, realizing your head was resting on his chest.
Your eyes flew open, and you froze, realizing that you were completely snuggled up against him. And worse? He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his arm was draped around you, holding you close.
You blinked, heart racing. This was... actually kind of nice?
Ruggie stirred, blinking down at you with a sleepy grin. “Well, well. Cuddle monster, are ya?”
You wanted to die of embarrassment. “I didn’t—You—The bed—”
He just laughed softly. “Relax. Not so bad, huh?”
You hesitated, then sighed. “I guess not.”
“See? I’m always right.” He grinned, then gave you a gentle squeeze. “Now, go back to sleep, or I’m charging you rent for hoggin’ my warmth.”
Azul Ashengrotto
“Azul, I need to sleep in your room,” you announced the second he opened the door to Octavinelle.
Azul blinked, adjusting his glasses. “Excuse me?”
“My bed broke,” you said with all the exhaustion of a person who had given up on life. “And I need a place to sleep.”
Azul stared at you, clearly processing. “And… you’ve come to me? Of all people?”
You sighed, too tired for this. “Floyd’s a maniac, Jade will probably cook something weird at 2 a.m., so yes. I came to you.”
Azul pushed up his glasses, clearly flustered but trying to act composed. “Very well. But I must inform you that my quarters don’t have a spare bed. You will have to share mine.”
You blinked. “Fine. I’m too tired to care.”
Azul looked mildly scandalized, but he stepped aside, letting you in. His room was surprisingly neat, but there was only one bed—one very large, comfortable-looking bed. Without another word, you climbed in.
Azul hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing the pros and cons of sharing a bed with you, but eventually he slid in beside you, keeping a respectable distance.
At least, that was the plan.
You both woke up in the morning tangled in the sheets, Azul’s arm slung over your waist, your head resting on his shoulder.
Azul’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, very slowly, he looked down at you, eyes wide with confusion and panic. “I—this wasn’t—”
You blinked up at him, realizing just how close you were. “Uh… morning?”
Azul turned an alarming shade of red but didn’t move. In fact, his arm tightened just slightly. “This is… highly unprofessional,” he muttered, though he made no effort to pull away.
You snorted. “Yeah, sure. But it’s not so bad.”
Azul blinked at you, his panic melting into a soft, almost shy smile. “No… I suppose not.”
Idia Shroud
When you knocked on the door to Ignihyde, you half expected Idia to ignore you. But to your surprise, the door cracked open, revealing his glowing yellow eyes.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked, eyes darting around nervously.
“My bed broke,” you said bluntly. “I need a place to crash.”
Idia blinked. “Uh… okay? But I don’t have a guest bed.”
You sighed. “That’s fine. I’ll take the floor.”
Idia looked even more nervous, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, well… it’s just me in here, so I guess you can… share mine?”
You stared at him for a moment, realizing what he was offering. “Sure. Why not.”
Idia nearly short-circuited at your casual response, but he let you in anyway, leading you to his surprisingly large bed. You both climbed in, and Idia immediately plastered himself to the very edge, leaving a wide gap between you.
“Y-you can have more space,” he mumbled, staring intently at the ceiling.
“Thanks,” you said, too tired to worry about the awkwardness. But as you both drifted off, the cold air of the room seemed to pull you closer, until, somewhere in the night, you ended up pressed against Idia’s side.
When you woke up, your head was resting on his chest, his arm slung loosely around you.
Idia’s hair flickered wildly when he realized where he was, his entire face turning bright red. “Wha—how—uh—what are you doing?!”
You groggily blinked up at him. “Sleeping?”
“I—I didn’t mean to—this wasn’t—” Idia was flustered beyond belief, but he made no move to untangle himself from you.
You smirked. “You’re warm. This isn’t so bad, you know.”
Idia blinked at you, his panic fading just a little. “R-really?”
You nodded, settling back against him. “Yeah. Kinda nice, actually.”
Idia’s hair flared bright pink for a moment, but then he relaxed, his arm resting a little more confidently around you. “O-okay. Just… don’t tell anyone.”
You grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#idia x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia#idia shroud#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul#azul ashengrotto#ruggie x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#ruggie#ruggie bucchi
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Fuck you . Gladly
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: The embers of your jealousy is fanned when girls forget that your boyfriend is not available. The only problem – silent treatment is your go-to reaction. Good for Sukuna, he knows how to make you talk.
Tropes: Established relationship, smut
Warnings: Explicit smut, fingering, fellatio, spanking, degradation+praise, choking, rough/angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms(female), mentions of smoking and cheating, no curse AU, college boy!Sukuna, kinda toxic relationship, strong language, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.
Word count - 3.8k
A/N: nope, sorry, this isn't the Sukuna fic whose sneak peek was posted a few days ago. That's a long one so it's taking time, instead I am feeding you this. Enjoy :)
Divider credits - @cafekitsune
Jealousy is a ugly thing.
From childhood, you were taught to always be poised and content with whatever you have. Limited resources, not the best outfit or not your desired commodities. Accepting and being satisfied with it was the norm.
Your mother said the same, "Jealousy is a ugly thing." When you admitted to be jealous over a certain classmate whose grades were higher than yours. I saw her cheating in the exam hall, words were on the tip of your lips but you resorted to keep the dirty secret to yourself.
Heard the same from your friend, "No need to be jealous, its the worst of emotions." When you fumed over how you can't go to a particular excursion (blame your strict parents) while she gets to go.
Jealousy is a ugly thing. Be content with whatever you have, even if it's not the best.
Oh- but fuck off to that age old quote that was thrown down your ears.
You get it. You really do, be glad with whatever you have and shit! And you are. You really are. But how could jealousy not play when others try to put their filthy hands on what is rightfully yours?
In this case, your boyfriend – Ryomen Sukuna.
You aren't particularly insecure about your relationship with him. Contray, you do trust him a whole lot and his mannerisms to the opposite gender doesn't defy your view of him. However, problems arise when a dumb bitch forgets that your boyfriend is not out in the market for her to rub herself.
Take yesterday for example – it wasn't long after Sukuna's practice match while you watched him from the bleachers. Silently, gushing to yourself of how gorgeous your boyfriend looked with the sweat dripping down his hair and forehead, the perspiration glistening on his skin and over his well sculpted abs when he pulled his jersey up to wipe his face, once his eyes landed on you– fuck it!
Ah– sorry, that went off topic... so where it was? Oh yeah!
Not long after his practice match did you watch that bitch Yorozu, literally jump out of the bleachers and run into his arms like she is his damn girlfriend. (She isn't). While you quietly, revelled over the fact when Sukuna without a bit of damn respect shoved her away, you couldn't shake out the fangs of malice growing inside you.
That brings you here, leaning back on the headboard of your bed with your phone clasped firmly in your hand, you scrolled through instagram. A rather pathetic attempt at ignoring Sukuna, who tried to strike up a conversation with you but you remained nonchalant.
"How long will you keep up that attitude?" Sukuna questions, leaning on the wall to your shared bedroom, a bored expression laces his features.
You don't answer, you don't even make the effort to look at him. It was perhaps, good time to just break your resolve for you've been giving him the cold shoulder since yesterday. Honestly, you don't even know why he's on the receiving end of your wrath. Sure, you are mad, but you are more mad over that wretched bitch than your boyfriend. But as you share no relation with her, its him who's suffering.
"Jesus Christ," Sukuna murmurs to himself, rolling his eyes as he steps up and sits in front of you.
He calls your name. You don't answer. He calls it again–his tone harsher. Your response is silence.
The next thing you know, your phone is harshly snatched away from your grip.
"What the fuck?!" You curse aloud, fire burning in your irises as you glare at him. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"
He scoffs, "So now you talk."
You try to reach for your phone but his counter is putting it away with a hand extended out. "Give that back."
"No."
"Yes."
He grips your right wrist in a tight hold, not enough to hurt you, just to keep you in place.
"What the fuck do you want?" You ask, the attempt at pulling your hand away proves futile when he tightens his hold.
"For you to stop acting like a brat."
"Acting like a brat?" You could only scowl. "I was silent the whole time. Is breathing illegal for you, now?"
His carmine irises blaze with annoyance as he retorts back, "You know damn well, I am not talking about that."
"I don't." You had always been bad at lying.
"Fuck yeah, you do."
You don't respond to that, trying to reach for your phone which he is doing a damn good job at keeping away. "Sukuna," Warning drips from your lowered tone, "I am not in the mood. Give my phone back, now."
"Yeah?" A humourless chuckle leaves his lips, "You're not getting it tonight, deal with it." You grit your teeth, trying to keep in the bubbling anger which would flow out any second but sure the God's hate you cause Sukuna's next words crumbles every bit of your self-control.
"Besides... why do you need it anyway? What?" He raised an eyebrow. "Texting some bastard while you I am in your no communication zone."
That's it. The fucking audacity.
Cheating. Something you can never speak or joke about, and he knows it still the God damn audacity to spit shit in front of you as if you're the one whose locker would be filled with love notes on valentine's day.
"You fucking asshole," You stand up, pulling your wrist away from his grip. Rage pours tumbles out of the dam, pouring through your every vein, every bone, every pore. "You have the fucking audacity to accuse me of cheating when you're the one smooching of other girls."
There's bad move. Then there's the worst fucking move of all.
This was the latter.
Sukuna rose up instantly, his gift of height gave him the upper hand to easily glare down at you. "The hell did you just say?" His tone turned a note low, the deep raves of his voice enough to warn of the impending danger.
Did that scare you? Maybe. Were you going to back down and say sorry? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
You scoffed, folding your hands over your chest, "Oh, you heard me." It was entertainment. Pure entertainment. Watching him riled up over a simple accusation. Hell, you'd pay to witness it again and again. "Do I have to say it again to your face, cheater?"
If he's so much offended to be labelled as a cheater then he shouldn't have brought up the topic in the first place. It doesn't make sense on what type of logic, you're backing yourself up but if rationality worked in cases of fueling rage and huge egos then there'd be no wars in the first place.
His response could only be grasping you by the throat, firmly as he roughly pushed you back on the wall. "I am the cheater? I've been nothing but loyal to you."
"The last time Yorozu–"
"She was clinging to me and I pushed her off, what more do you want?"
Nothing, I am just fucking jealous. That's what, you should be saying but you don't cause- cause you just can't. You grit your teeth and resort to profanity, "Fuck you, nonetheless."
"You stupid bitch," His grip around your throat tightens and that's when you're finally aware of your position. With your back pressed against the wall and his calloused hand grazing over the pulse point of your throat–this situation could not be more intimate.
You are hit with his cologne mixed with the musky smell of cigarette which, you assume, he had smoked before coming to you. A heat burns in your core as you notice the intricacies of tattoos that marks his visage; each one luring you to trace your fingertips over them.
You're still antsy and a flurry of provocative insults are resting on the tip of your tongue which would be spit out any second but- but what could be the better time for your estrogen levels to rise?
It's not long after that you mutter a curse under your breath, your fingers find their way to his collar; a second later–you are locking lips with him.
Sukuna's initial shock of the situation is evident as his lips doesn't move against yours. Yet, he indulges soon, his eyes flutter shut when he responds with equal fervour and fire. He tilts your head back, his tongue lapping over your bottom lip and a sigh escapes him when you give him access. His free hand find their way over to your hair, tangling his fingers through your strands as he tugs them back – deepening the kiss.
You groan against his lips at the surprise pull. His tongue prods inside your mouth, engaging in a harmonious dance with yours – swirling and lapping with it. His hold on your throat was tight, cutting off your air supply while his mouth moved against yours in a rhythm. Allowance of breath was gratified once he felt your mouth tighten against his. You gasped and panted for air, his hold on your throat loosening just a bit. When you looked up, a suggestive smirk was plastered against his lips and damn– wasn't that just irksome.
Sukuna pulls you closer, nibbling on your earlobe which incites a rather sinful moan from your mouth. "All that attitude and you wanted this. Should have just said so, princess." It's almost mocking on how he used the nickname.
"Fuck you."
"Gladly."
Said so, his mouth again presses over yours, harder than the previous time. The passionate liplock lights the fire in both of you as Sukuna's hands glide down from your hair. Caressing the curves and contours of your body before finally resting on the plump flesh of your ass. He squeezes your buttocks while trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw and lips.
"Use your words from next time, princess."
Fuck it. Fuck him. He is smirking. You can't see it but damn, isn't it palpable? Your eyes are shut tight as his hand moves from your buttocks to your thighs and upto your thong. "Fucking soaked," He hisses under his breath, feeling the large wet splotch that has settled over your the fabric.
"Ngh– Sukuna," A breathy moan slips past you as he palms you over the garment, tracing the outline of your clit and entrance. His attempt at teasing you is working dangerously well and you have to restrain yourself from giving into this wanton pleasure. You grip onto his biceps, nails digging into the muscles from over his shirt. "Stop fu-fucking teas–ing me."
"Am I teasing you? Mhm nah, I don't think so." His heated breath falls hot over your neck as he licks a line over the curve of it. "Tell me, what do you want me to do?"
You don't answer, silently scowling at him but that's his cue to slide your thong aside and caress the skin over your needy pussy. He knows what you want. And he knows only he can give it you. But he won't. Not until you say it. And you won't say it cause you're damn stubborn and you've got to show him that you're still mad which is proving difficult under his skillful ministration.
Well, that isn't a bother to him, you can stay with your resolve all you want while he enjoys playing with you.
"F-Fuck it– Sukuna–," You whine, pushing your hips towards his fingers to just receive an inch of stimulation but that's fruitless. The attempt at clamping your legs shut is the worst play you could make as Sukuna harshly slaps your pussy.
"Keep those legs spread like a good whore."
You hate him. You really do. You hate him for the certain joy of degradation mixed with praise – one, only he can evoke from you. The phrase had a electricity shoot to your cunt causing it to throb as a sheen of sweat formed over your forehead.
The grip over your resolve breaks and you find yourself speaking before you can even think, "Fuck– Sukuna, need you, ngh– now."
"Now, that's like a good little slut." Sukuna doesn't need to be told twice before two of his digits delves inside your aching cunt while the rough pad of his thumb presses over your clit.
You throw your head back at the needed stimulation and courtesy to Sukuna's hand tangled in your hair–shielding your scalp from hitting the wall. The flurry of curses and moans leaving your lips could have been recorded. His fingers move in and out of your cunt in a fast pace while your pussy sucks them in. He hits your g-spot and that has your eyes rolling back in your head. The squelching noises from your pussy and your breathy loud whimpers reverbrates through each and every corner of your room. He draws circles over your clit, scissoring his finger in a V, stretching you out.
"Eyes on me, princess," He murmurs in your ear and you comply soon after. Gazing in his crimson eyes darkened with lust, a shiver runs down your spine as your legs tremble while he fingerfucks you like playing the keys to a piano. "Watch the only man who can make you cum like this."
It's possessive and diabolical. He has no right to act such when you aren't even the one who's going around entertaining the opposite gender. But you don't have any bit of resilence left in you to tell him to fuck off. Besides with the amount of strings he's pulling, its only a second later that you spasm and milk around his digits.
Sukuna pulls out his fingers from your hole, gazing at the slick and fluid running down them with amusement flickering over his irises. Yet, he pushes them to your mouth, pulling down your lower lip. "Clean up your mess, brat."
You keep your eyes on him, taking the same fingers which was in your cunt, in your mouth as you lick them clean.
"Yeah? Like that? It's yours, princess." You hum in response. Your brain is still hung up on the earlier scenario, and even though getting off on his fingers did relieve your frustration. You're still not satisfied. Nay, you aren't letting him off the hook that easily. That's when a rather vile idea conjures up in your brain, a smirk escapes your lips.
"Hm, whatcha smiling about?"
You could only laugh, "Ah– you'll know." It's in a second that it happens – the tables turn. It's now Sukuna with his back resting against the wall while you smirk up at him. Your hand slid down to his sweatpants and damn– his clothed bulge could only compare to the actual thing. You kneel down before him, a mischievous glint shadowing your eyes. "Let me return the favour."
You hook your thumb and pointer finger in his waistband, pulling down his briefs. His cock springs out, smacking against his abdomen and for a second, its like you get a brain freeze. Rock hard, and the veins are protruding out of the shaft. It isn't the first time, you've seen it but each time you do, realization hits of how huge it is.
"Less staring, more sucking, princess." Sukuna says from above, threading his fingers through your hair.
"Oh no, just admiring a work of art," You reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. It isn't a lie but it's sure a push to his ego. You look up at him, holding the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue over his mushroom tip.
"Fuck," He mutters to himself, head tipping back when your warm mouth latches over his hardened shaft. He pushes himself onto your moist mouth, hitting the back of your throat as you almost gag on his cock. You compose yourself soon, looking up at him as you bob your head up and down on his thick, veiny shaft.
Sukuna's grip on your hair doesn't falter, instead tightens as he establishes his hold while tangling his finger through your strands. You assume he likes it (and why wouldn't he? Only you can give him a head like this) from the way noises leaves his mouth as you take him in as much as you can. Your hand glides over the remnants of his dick, stroking and pressing on it.
"God yeah– fuck... j-just like that– ngh."
Your name rolls out of his mouth sinfully causing your cunt to suck on air. Drool runs down your chin to your jaw as you lap your tongue over his shaft – swirling and drawing over the bulging veins. You feel him twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. He knows, he's close as he heaves in a ragged breath.
Good. You were just waiting for that.
You detach your mouth from his cock with a pop, standing up as you press your lips to his for a brief second. A smirk played at your lips, "Now, wasn't that nice?"
"What the fuck?!" Sukuna growls at you, dumbfounded at the wave of pleasure that would've washed over him if not for you.
"Pay back, darling." You grin, pressing a kiss to cheek which only infuriates him more.
It isn't a second later that you are roughly thrown on your bed as Sukuna hovers over you, pulling your skirt up and ripping out your thong. You don't have the time to complain when he pushes his cock inside your throbbing cunt, hitting right at your g-spot on the very first stroke.
"God, Suku– ah–" A harsh slap is delivered to your ass, you hiss in pain as Sukuna picks up the pace. Pulling out his cock just to the tip before shoving the whole girth in–stretching and filling you up to the brim.
"Sluts don't get to speak," Another smack lands on your ass cheek, harder than the previous. It would sure leave a mark but he could care less. He swipes at your hardened bud, pinching it as you cry out in pain. "Yeah, like that– scream like the dumb bitch you are."
You are panting, trying to breath but his hand is clamped around your throat like a collar–pressing down your wind pipe. "Gnhh– Su-Suku' ahh– too m-much."
"Too bad, you're taking it." His hands find their way under your thighs, pushing them up until your knees are pressed up beside your face. He folds you in a mating press, reaching spots in you which you didn't know existed. "That's the thanks I got for making you cum. Brat's like you need to be punished." Said so, he reaches under your shirt, squeezing and kneading your breasts while he tweaks over your nipples.
You fist the sheets, eyes rolling back, you are almost on the verge of seeing stars before your eyes. His strokes has your legs tremble but he holds you tightly in his grasp, pinching and tugging on your erected buds. You swallow a deep breath feeling yourself clamp around his cock, you're close–too close and his swipes inside your pussy does not make this situation better. "Sh-shit, ahh– g-gonna ngh– cum."
"Oh yeah, so soon?" He pinches your clit elliciting a scream from you. "Like that, don't ya? Nasty little bitch, cum."
You suck him in, feeling yourself come undone under him. But– uh oh...
Sukuna is far from done.
You don't have the time to catch your breath, before he flips your position; you're straddling his lap with his dick still stuck in your cunt. "Wait– what the–"
"We are far from over," He whispers near your ear. "I still haven't cum, slut." He leans back on the bedframe, squeezing your ass cheek with a lopsided smirk stuck on his face. "Go on, take responsibility of your own actions. Or..." He stretches out the word, looking down on you. "Can you not?"
Did he really...? Was that really a challenge thrown your way?
If he thinks your estrogen levels aren't enough to keep up with his testosterone then he's damn wrong. You snickered, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh–he grunts out in pain. Your knees are aside his hips as you push yourself down on his cock. "You should know better than asking me if I can go on."
"Hm, prove it then."
Damn bastard... he's toying with you, provoking you with words and damn! It's working well. Like a moth to a flame, you are playing into his whims and you're damn sure, he's laughing his ass off inside his mind.
"Fuck off," You curse at him, pulling yourself up before sitting back on his member.
"Gosh– shit," Sukuna grabs your hips, groaning at the way your warm walls feel around his dick. Hooking his hand under your top, he tugs on it and you oblige, putting your hands up as the garment is thrown off your body. He doesn't waste a second before delving in to bite and suck on the flesh of your neck while fondling your breasts.
The only sound that reverberated through the room were your wanton moans mixed with his groans as your name was chanted like a mantra. Your butt slapped against his lap as you bounced on him, your mouth parted as a trail of drool ran down your chin.
It's the same dance, you've danced with him countless times. The flicker of flame that burnt could only be fuelled by your combined desires. Each kiss, each bite, each stroke giving rise to the allure of just one more. Once again.
You felt Sukuna's cock twitch inside your sore cunt–burning and ravished from taking him in so long. Your pleasure was coming in soon. And at the last second, Sukuna's mouth met yours in a salacious, deep kiss–resulting you to moan in his mouth as his seeds paint your walls white. You come simultaneously, ragged breath of relief erupting from you.
Both of you part, as you stay still over him, catching your breath. You look into his eyes; he's staring right back. Huffs and pants could be the means of communication and even though your room is air-conditioned, a thin layer of sweat covers the both of you.
For a second, there is a amalgam of emotions that flicker in his gaze alone. They disappear before you can name them yet- you believe there was a hint of tenderness to them.
"I hate you," The words flow out of you yet you don't know, why they don't have the same sharp tone as always.
"I hate you," You repeat again.
A smug smirk plasters over his lips as he clicks his tongue, "Right? Who was riding that dick–"
"Shut up."
Yes, you do hate him the most.
#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna fanfiction#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna x you#ryomen x you#jjk sukuna#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen x reader#ryomen x reader
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The Slytherin Boys
As Soulmate Tropes
Ft. Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
Mattheo Riddle
The timer
Everyone has a timer on their wrist that counts down to the second you meet your soulmate
Matteo thinks it’s utter bullshit
He’s not really one to be told what to do
Especially not by something as silly as fate
Before he even begins at Hogwarts, he wraps his wrist in a leather cuff, never taking it off
A soulmate is only a weakness after all
Like his father said
When he finally makes his first friend, Theodore Nott, on the train to Hogwarts, the boy looks at his wrist curiously, but says nothing
The boy’s own timer reads something a bit over six years
He meets others, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, all displaying their timers proudly out in the open
He would never want to be that vulnerable
Of course he’s tempted to look when he sees Lorenzo Berkshire’s timer run out in first year when they’re sorted into Slytherin with Daphne Greengrass
Still he doesn’t look
Over the years he watches his friends’ timers run out as they each meet their soulmate until it’s just him and Theodore left.
“You’ve really not looked?” Theo asks him one night as they share a smoke up in the astronomy tower
Matteo shakes his head no
It’s not until a bit over a year later when Theo’s timer runs out as he quite literally runs into his soulmate that Matteo even considers taking a small peak
That night, he lay in bed, eyes boring into the ceiling
Ever so slowly, his fingers wrap around the cuff, inching it off agonizingly
When he finally sees his timer, he blinks
00:00:00
He’d missed them
His head falls back against his pillow as the leather cuff returns to its place, securely around his wrist
He’d never wanted a soulmate anyway, he reasoned with himself
What he didn’t know, was he’d also missed all the stolen glances at him since third year
He makes it through four more sleepless nights before he tears the cuff off, throwing it against the wall, alarming Theo
“I missed them. I fucking missed them.” He says, staring blankly at the wall as Theo looks at his friend sadly
About a week later, it finally goes noticed that the leather cuff is gone
Matteo is sitting in the grass by the Black Lake when they approach
“They stopped sometime in third year. You bumped into me walking off the quidditch pitch.”
Matteo looks up, mouth gaping open as he takes in his soulmate for the first time
“Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Figured you didn’t want to know with the whole cuff thing and all.”
It takes him a moment to reply, but once he does, he will not stop apologizing
He looks at his soulmate as if they painted the sun in the sky
It’s slow going at first, Matteo never really believed in love
But once he’s in, he’s in deep
His friends are all shocked of course, but more so relieved that Matteo finally had someone that really clicked
Matteo never wanted a soulmate, but he’d be damned if his was ever torn away from him
Theodore Nott
First Words
The first words one said to their soulmate are permanently scrawled across their other half’s skin
No matter how much someone tried, the words wouldn’t budge
Couldn’t be removed, couldn’t be changed, couldn’t be covered by anything other than clothing
Theo knew
He’d tried
“Fuck off, Nott”
Was permanently brandished across his collarbone
His mother had gasped when she saw it, rushing to cover the words
The epitome of romance Theo had thought dryly to himself on more than one occasion
He told himself he didn’t care
Maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why his soulmate wanted him to fuck off despite never speaking to him before
He never let another soul see those words though
Not even when his friends went around, proudly showing off their own words
He didn’t believe in that shit, he’d told them
But it was hard not to believe it in third year when Matteo finally spoke to Daphne’s sister, Astoria, for the first time
Their words matched perfectly
And so did they
In his fourth year, Matteo finally discovered the blasted words after Theo ended up in the hospital wing
He was made fun of ruthlessly for the next several weeks
Not even his soulmate- as a stranger wanted anything to do with him
Maybe that was why, at fifteen, he began his flirtatious escapades
Flirting with anything really, that had a pulse
If his soulmate didn’t want him, surely someone else did
And that’s how he found himself where he was now
Leaning up against the cold stone wall, a comfortable buzz setting in from the drink in his hand as he chatted up some Ravenclaw
He was about to lean in when a hand appeared on his shoulder, pulling him back roughly
“Fuck off, Nott.” The voice said, a hint of agitation in their voice
Theo’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, eyes widening and mind suddenly alarmingly clear
He felt his heart beat speed up as he took in the sight
A moment passes, then two
Blinking, he tried to think of something- anything to say
“Salazar, you’re perfect.”
Fuck.
Theo watched the hairs on his soulmate’s neck prickle as they freeze, eyes slowly meeting his own
“That’s not funny Nott. Who told you to say that?” They ask warily as their friend watches in amused excitement
Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Theo finally shows his words, the black script bold against his tan skin
Theo had always wanted
Theo had always wanted to be wanted
And Theo’s soulmate made sure he always knew just how wanted he was
Draco Malfoy
Hot and Cold
Draco remembered the first time his mother explained the soulmate stuff to him
He was only five when she tucked him into bed and explained
The closer you were to your soulmate, the hotter you felt
The further you were, the colder you felt
But once you were together, everything would feel right
Simple enough his young self had figured
Almost like a game of sorts
A game of fate
He always thought it was strange that his mother was constantly shivering despite his fathers tendency to run quite warm
They must prefer it that way
He himself however, grew up always a bit too cold for his liking
It was early on that he learned to bundle up in layers
His mother cast especially nice warming charms
As he grew older, it confused Draco that his parents ran at two very opposite temperatures, despite his mother’s words echoing in the back of his head
The whole soulmate thing must not be that perfect if “just right” meant one parent felt like a block of ice while the other was practically slick with sweat
He didn’t really understand until the summer before he was to leave for Hogwarts
That’s when his parents hosted a small going away gathering
His cousin Enzo was there
As were the Greengrass sisters
Draco watched Enzo begin to grow agitated, sweat beginning to form on his brow
When the boy looked up to see the older Greengrass sister though, it was as if a wave of calm had washed over him
The heat in his cousin’s cheeks faded as he made his way over to the girl
That’s when Draco finally realized
It didn’t go unnoticed by him then, when his father’s normally warm aura cooled considerably to a suspiciously comfortable level when the Nott family arrived
It was then that Draco determined that soulmates only lead to heartbreak
What was the point of it didn’t guarantee happiness?
Draco was on the train, surrounded by his friends when he first felt it
A small spark of heat, flaring up in his chest
He ignored it
He felt it again at the sorting ceremony, quickly rushing to sit with his new house mates
For once hoping to blend in
The dungeons of the Slytherin common room felt safe
The cool air of the stone walls enveloping him
Every so often, Draco felt a familiar warmth begin to overtake him, subconsciously leading him towards it
But he always did his best to fight it off
Lately however, the tingling feeling of warmth seemed to be chasing after him
Almost as if whoever was causing it was actively searching him out
Draco was sitting in the Three Broomsticks, butter beer in hand when it finally happened
He felt the heat wave first
Then the beads of sweat slowly forming on his head
His eyes flicked about frantically as his friends watched him with concern
When his eyes finally landed on the culprit, he knew
A wave of cool ran over him and for the first time in his life, Draco wasn’t shivering against a sweater, or sweating like a mad man
He felt
Right
“Hi.” He says, dazed as he stares at his soulmate in awe
Lorenzo Berkshire
The Red Strings of Fate
Enzo couldn’t remember a time when he couldn’t see the red strings twisting, knotting, winding around everyone he knew
They always started out the same
Tied in a neat bow around someone’s pinky before looping off into the distance
Occasionally, he’d see two people, their strings meeting, tying them together
Theirs always had a mesmerizing gold sheen
It fascinated him
His own parents’ strings trailed off in opposite directions
Not that he’d ever say anything about it
He knew there were others like him
People who could see the strings
Advertising their love matching services
Always able to tell if people were compatible or not
Enzo never said a word
At Hogwarts, Enzo often heard the Slytherin girls chatter about how romantic the idea was
Having a soulmate out there, tied to you forever
Enzo smiled, knowing that Pansy’s string was connected to one Blaise Zabini
And Astoria’s string lead to Matteo Riddle
In second year, he’d let out an unattractive snort, seeing his cousin Draco’s string connect to Hermione Granger
He’d almost let it slip right then and there
But still, he kept quiet, subtly leading his friends in the right direction
Even if it meant “accidentally�� locking Draco and Hermione in the potions storeroom without their wands
It wasn’t until much later that Enzo realized he’d never really paid all that much attention to the string tied to his own finger
What if they didn’t believe in the strings?
What if they didn’t want to be found?
One night, when his dorm mates were asleep
He tugged on the red string, feeling the taunt pull on the other end
He didn’t really expect much
He’d seen people’s strings lead off over the horizon, end no where in sight
He knew it was totally plausible to never see his soulmate
But it would be nice
Sometimes at night, when his roommates were all asleep and he was still wide awake, he’d roam the halls, following the string
It always seemed to take him the same way, up the winding staircases until he found himself outside an ever familiar common room door
He wasn’t stupid
He knew his soulmate had to be in there, but still, he never searched beyond those quiet nights, the portraits on the walls looking on silently
It all changes though, the day he feels his pinky finger tug a bit as a stranger sits down next to him in potions
“You don’t mind, do you?” The breathy voice asks
Enzo is too busy staring at the string connecting their fingers, a familiar golden sheen glimmering between them, to answer
When he looks up, he finds pretty eyes looking back, a small smile tugging on pink lips
“The portraits are quite chatty you know. I wondered if you’d try to come find me, but figured it was best to take matters into my own hands.”
A soft blush rises to his cheeks as he looks sheepishly at his soulmate
“So should I lock us in a storage room without our wands now? Or can we skip that step?”
Enzo lets out bark of laughter before quickly getting a hold of himself
After years of following other people’s strings, he was glad someone had followed their string to him
#slytherin boys#harry potter#harry potter universe#slytherin#lorenzo berkshire#theodore nott#draco malfoy#matteo riddle#enzo berkshire#theo nott#slytherin boys fanfiction#soulmates#soulmate au#happy late Valentine’s Day#Spotify#mattheo riddle
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Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember.
Oh, He Wants
Week #2 Prompt: Backseat/Clothes On/Bruise | Word Count: 4608 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Unprotected Sex, Bodily Fluids | Tags: Clothes On, Until They're Off, First Time, Virgin Eddie, Horny Boys in Love, Dry Humping, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Sex, Barebacking
Note: It's backseat sex. Suspension of disbelief is often required for this trope. Like the Tardis, it's simply bigger on the inside than it appears, haha.
The windows are steamed up, condensation rolling down the glass, as Steve lays on top of Eddie, grinding down against him, over and over again. Steve kind of thought that was just a thing from movies, not something that actually happens in real life. But they've been at this for at least an hour, both breathing heavily, slowly heating up the car, literally fogging up the windows.
He feels his face flushing, and his chest is heaving as he keeps rutting against Eddie underneath him. Fingers digging into his arms, his shoulders, his neck. Probably hard enough to bruise. Just clinging to him anywhere he can reach.
It's slow, and steady, and the feeling of Eddie's cock pressed against his, even through all the layers of underwear and jeans, is really working for him. Steve's never been much of a backseat makeout kind of guy. He always had other places for that: Skull Rock. Under the bleachers. The last row of The Hawk. Not to mention there's never been a bedroom window he hasn't been willing to crawl through to fool around with a girl right in her own bed, her parents none the wiser.
But with Eddie? He'll get into the cramped backseat and love it. All day, all night, because he gets it now. He understands, wholly. The thrill of feeling like they are sneaking around, of getting by with something, even if they have other places to be together in private other than an abandoned dirt road.
They could hole up in Steve's big, empty house. Or at Wayne's place when he's gone at work all night. And they have. Make-out sessions that leave them both gasping for breath, needing, wanting.
Jeans, underwear sticky from coming in them as they pushed each other over the edge.
But this is different. Illicit and thrilling. He could take Eddie to a bed, he has every opportunity. Instead, they're here. Pulled off along a dead end dirt road.
And it's good. The shared breaths, the confined space, all of it.
It's a heady mix of lust, and love. Steve's fallen fast, and hard. Just like he always does. He'll never learn, and he knows he's probably headed for another heartbreak after Eddie's wrung out everything he wants from him, leaving the rest.
Tonight they've kissed so much, so hard, Steve's sure his lips are bruised at this point. But he can't get enough of Eddie. He'll never get enough. He almost lost him before he'd even found him, and he's not gonna waste another minute more.
For as long as this lasts, he's all in. He's gathered up the pieces of his broken heart before, and he could do it again. Would do it again, for Eddie.
It's worth it. Eddie's worth it. Love, too. He's probably hopeless. Robin would definitely say so, but he wants it so fucking bad. To be loved. To be someone's first pick, to go in the first round, to build a dynasty together.
Okay, maybe the sports metaphors are a bit much, especially for Eddie, who wouldn't appreciate them. But Steve feels like he's been drafted to the future he wants, if he can only hold onto it, long term.
Eddie is everything he's been looking for. He loves him. He's sure of it, even if that's never been spoken between them.
Steve pulls back to suck in a quick breath, all panting and soft eyes, "Hi."
Eddie smiles, lips swollen and red, "Hi."
And Steve dives back in. Pressing his lips to Eddie's neck, his tongue sneaking out to taste salty skin. All he wants is this. To lay here and kiss, and grind, and just be close to each other. Nothing else to worry about other than this minute, and the one that follows after.
It might last a month, a year, or a lifetime. Tonight though, he's drunk on the feeling of Eddie under his body, the way they can't seem to get enough of each other. Hands roaming, bodies crushed together.
Steve hasn't felt like this in a long fucking time, if ever. This attracted to someone. Just being with them because you can.
Because you want to.
And Steve? He wants to be with Eddie in all the ways.
"Here. Let me readjust," Eddie says, and Steve lifts up his hips, as Eddie sticks his hand down in his jeans, under the waistband without unbuttoning them, into his boxers. It's fucking hot, for some reason.
To see his whole hand disappear, knowing what he's doing. Steve wants that to be his hand. To close around the hard, silky warmth. To feel the weight against his palm. To see if holding another man's cock in his hand actually feels any different. He bets that it does.
Eddie makes the adjustment he needs to make, then pulls his hand back out, and Steve re-lowers himself again to reestablish contact.
Goddamn, now Steve can feel even more of his length. Hard and ready, under him.
He wants to put his mouth on him. Use every ounce of knowledge he has from girls sucking his cock, and apply them to doing the same to Eddie. Take all the best tricks and move forward, and leave all the worst ones behind in the past.
He rolls his hips, and Eddie moans, in response, and it makes Steve smile.
"Like that?" he asks, keeping up the same soft, slow roll of his hips.
"Fuck yeah, I like it," Eddie answers, breath catching in his throat, his hands finding Steve's hips, not forcing him to move any faster, nor any harder, just holding him, desperate to feel the motion they're making together.
To hear the sound of the rough denim scratching together in the quiet of the car. Steve had turned the key to accessory mode to keep the radio on, but that went off long ago, now. And he's glad. He just wants to hear the sound of Eddie's breathing, and the rustling noises of their bodies moving together.
They haven't shed a bit of clothing, but they don't need to. This is so good on its own.
He likes the cramped space, the feeling of being cocooned with him, like they are the only people on earth that matter at this exact moment in time.
Then, Eddie is twisting under him, and seems to be all knees and elbows. But he squirms, and Steve leans back to see where this is going. He's unsure, but vows to just stay out of his way, and let it play out. He'll follow Eddie's lead, no matter where he's headed.
Surprising Steve, Eddie rolls onto his belly, bumping and jostling Steve the whole time. And Steve watches, trying to let him get situated, just enthralled as Eddie's hands are clearly moving beneath him. Unbuttoning. Unzipping. Then he's pushing his jeans down onto his thighs. Plaid boxers still covering his ass.
Steve grips his hips, unsure.
Steve's not even sure what Eddie needs. Or what he needs. He's never had sex with a man before. He's willing, and he wants, oh, he wants, but he can't ask for what he's never had. He doesn't have the words.
He's not sure Eddie does either.
But he's pretty sure they can't fuck in a car. He doesn't know much, but he thinks he knows that.
He's satisfied with this, he'd be satisfied with anything, when it comes to Eddie.
Steve unbuttons his own jeans, pushing them down, and then presses his underwear-clad dick right against Eddie's ass. And presses down, testing, trying it out. He makes small thrusts against him, finding a rhythm and it must be right, because Eddie moans beneath him.
"Goddamn," Steve breathes out.
Steve's pretty sure Eddie wants this, maybe more, by the way he's providing the counterpoint. Pushing back, helping keep the rhythm.
He's never been with a guy before Eddie, but he's been with plenty of girls, and knows horny when he sees it. And Steve wants to fuck him. Wants to slide into him, feel their bodies connected and Eddie all around him.
Hell, he wants to rub off on him, just like this. Anything. Everything.
He just wants to make Eddie feel good. He wants them both to feel good.
"Is it good?" Steve breathes out.
And Eddie nods. Hair moving. Shaking up and down.
Steve takes a hand from one of Eddie's hips, and brushes the loose hair from his neck, and then bends down, kissing his slick skin.
Then, he wants to at least see more.
So, he pulls down Eddie's boxers, revealing the shock of white skin. He's so pale. Even here in the dark. Maybe even more now that he survived the bats. Like all that lost blood never quite returned to his circulatory system.
There are jagged scars on his hips, and Steve is familiar with those himself. But they are somehow opposites. Steve's sides still look webbed with streaks of white on tanned skin. Like they were able to heal, but not disappear. Only fading with time. In contrast, Eddie's are dark against his pale skin, still reddened.
They're different, but the same. A matched set, both having survived the same terrible version of hell together.
They made it. Just not unscathed.
And that's okay.
Then he grips both of Eddie's ass cheeks, and spreads them apart. It's dark in the car. Nearly too dark to see, everything hidden in shadow, but what he can make out by the moonlight is enticing.
He digs his fingers into Eddie's ass, kneading a little, and then lines up. Cock bumping against Eddie's asshole through the remaining layer of Steve's underwear, and it sends Eddie scrabbling at the leather seats, with no way to find purchase.
It feels good for Steve, and it clearly does for Eddie, too.
"Fuck me," Eddie whines, begging.
Steve can't fuck him. Can't just slide inside. No matter how much he wants to. Eddie's not slick and open and ready like a girl, even if he's just as willing.
But Steve brushes his thumb against his opening, then pulls his thumb back, licks it, getting it wet and sloppy with spit, and does it again. Pressing against his hole, but not trying to push inside.
Eddie arches off the seat, moaning.
Steve wants to eat him out. Eating pussy always got him going. Got his dick hard, and ready. He's absolutely certain eating Eddie's ass would do the same.
He doesn't know how they could possibly make room for that in here, though.
They'll have to do other stuff.
Steve presses himself upwards. As close to upright as he can get in the backseat of his car, his head and neck crammed against the roof, the soft lining tickling the back of his neck, as he unbuttons his jeans and wrangles them off his body, struggling with the lack of room.
But getting them off. Tossed out of the way.
And he knows shouldn't, but he does. He pushes his underwear down under his dick, and slides the head of his cock right against Eddie's hole. Pressing against him. Steve's leaking, because he's been leaking all fucking night, making a wet spot in his underwear, but now that helps slick the way.
Not enough to fuck, but enough to glide against him, definitely.
"This okay?" Steve asks.
"Yes, yes," Eddie answers, "fuck yes."
So, Steve takes his cock in hand, and rubs the head right against Eddie. And Eddie whines, and pushes back.
Another bead of precum slides out, right against Eddie's warm skin.
Maybe they could rut here until he finishes between his cheeks. Come splattering his hole. Fuck. The thought.
But there's more he wants to do first.
"Flip," Steve says, and with some sloppy, slightly dangerous maneuvering, Eddie does. Again on his back, looking up at Steve.
Steve pulls his own underwear back up, but forces Eddie's jeans and boxers down even further, until he can slip them off one of Eddie's legs, leaving them dangling off the other.
Then he heaves Eddie's legs over his shoulders, bumping them on the roof of the car, making Eddie fold himself nearly in half to make the angle in this limited amount of space work.
Eddie's cock is hard, wet and dripping at the tip, laying back against his belly, begging for attention. But Steve bypasses it. Instead, nudging behind Eddie's balls, and swiping his tongue against his hole.
Eddie keens, letting out a wild noise that makes Steve's cock throb in his underwear. Getting even wetter.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Eddie whispers, mainly to himself, Steve thinks.
He looks fucking hot all contorted like this, spine bowed, hands in Steve's hair. Pulling. Tugging. Clawing.
And Steve keeps licking him, before pressing the tip of his tongue inside, making Eddie gasp. He wonders if he could eat him out enough to loosen him up to fuck.
He'd definitely be willing to try. It's musky and earthy, and not at all bad, even if he feels a little naughty doing this. Especially tasting the salty traces of himself there. As if he's staked his claim. As if the taboo-ness of it makes it even hotter.
Steve pulls back, and spits on his fingers. This isn't ideal. They can't go from zero-to-fucking, but that seems like exactly what they'd both like to happen tonight.
But he presses the tip of one inside alongside his tongue.
"I've never," Eddie groans, "uh, never even, oh fuck, gotten head. And Steve Harrington is eating my ass. What is happening?"
Steve stills at that. Well, leave it to him to skip a few bases.
He scoots forward, pressing his chest against the back of Eddie's thighs.
"Can I? Can I do that?" Steve asks, searching his eyes.
And Eddie nods, emphatically, "Fuck. Yes. Please. Anything. You can do anything."
He sounds shocked and borderline hysterical, but in a good way. A really, really good way.
Steve feels like maybe Eddie's gonna be his undoing. And isn't that a hell of a drug to have rushing through your veins?
Steve wants to slide into the floorboard, but his driver's seat is too far back.
He can fix that. He lowers Eddie's legs, and leans over the seat, reaching the lever, scooting it up as far as it'll go.
Then he wedges himself down on the floorboard, and cups Eddie's bare hips. Sliding the still dangling clothes off Eddie's leg, and tosses them up front with his own, out of the way. Eddie's still got his shirt on, but so does Steve, and that's okay. Kinda hot, even.
He takes in the sight of Eddie laying there, cock hard, the base surrounded by wild, dark hair. Even his cock looks like it belongs on Eddie, somehow.
He's gorgeous.
"You're gorgeous," Steve tells him, meeting his eyes.
"Stop," Eddie whines, looking embarrassed. He shouldn't be. He is gorgeous. How nobody else ever did this for him, how they never wanted to see him looking like this, is actually insane. Crazy.
Steve presses both thumbs onto the dips of his hips, "If you actually want me to stop, say so. If not, I'm gonna eat you alive."
Eddie's dick jerks and bounces at that promise, and Steve grins, "That's what I thought."
He wraps his hand around Eddie's girth, sliding, giving a slow stroke, before pushing his hand down towards the base of his dick to keep his pubes out of the way, and out of his mouth. Then he lowers his head, sliding the head of Eddie's cock between his lips. Eddie's never gotten head, and Steve's never given it, but they're in this thing together now.
And Steve couldn't be happier about it.
He glides his mouth up and down, not going too far, definitely not brave enough to take him very deep. Eddie doesn't seem to mind, with all the noises he's making. So, Steve keeps it up. Finds a rhythm, using his mouth, his hand, and it doesn't take long.
Steve feels Eddie's dick harden further, knows that tell-tale sign.
"I'm gonna," Eddie says, and Steve nods, squeezing his hip with his free hand.
And Eddie does. Comes in his mouth, and Steve doesn't know what to do with it. He holds it there for a few seconds, and then lifts his shirttail, and spits in it.
Maybe not the first choice, but it worked, and Steve pulls his now wet shirt over his head, tossing it away with their jeans.
Eddie claws at him, pulling him towards his face, and Steve kisses him. Over and over. Hoping he's tasting himself on Steve's tongue.
Eddie tilts his head, pulling back, and Steve lets him go.
"I. I need," Eddie says, squeezing his eyes shut tight.
"What do you need?" Steve asks, hand brushing the hair off his forehead, to get a better look at him. He'll give him anything.
"I need you to eat me out some more," Eddie says, head twisted to the side, not looking at Steve. As if he's embarrassed to ask for this.
"Yeah?" Steve asks, surprised, but happy.
And Eddie nods.
Steve maneuvers his body backwards towards the other door, and then gets Eddie's legs up over his shoulders again, and goes all in. Licking, pressing in with his tongue. Eddie's whole body is loose from his orgasm, and sliding the tip of his tongue inside is a little easier, now. So, he licks, and presses his tongue flat against the furled skin, loving the sounds Eddie makes. Breathy moans, heady whines.
"Steve, Steve," Eddie says, "Can you? Can you fuck me?"
Steve brushes his thumb against Eddie's sweat-slick skin, "Are you sure? We don't have to do this now. We can wait. Do it right."
"Do it now," Eddie begs, "do it, do it."
Okay, Steve will do it now. If he can. If he has anything to make that happen. He digs around in his bag on the other side of the floorboard, and comes up with a strip of three condoms. But nothing to use as lube.
The condoms are lubricated, and he opens all three, sliding one on his dick, and then getting all the lube off the others as best as he can. With that, and the foreplay, he thinks it just might be enough.
It's not a lot of lube to work with, but he's finally knuckle deep, and Eddie's making good noises. Which he finds encouraging.
"Have you ever?" Steve asks, twisting his finger, and then adding a second. Eddie groans, and presses back against his hand. And well, he's not acting like this is the first time something's been in his ass.
"Only to myself," Eddie says, and Steve puts that on the list of things to try alone, now. To see what it feels like. Steve wishes Eddie were slicker, but this is what they've got to work with.
He'll have to see if it's enough, now.
"If it hurts, let me know. We'll stop."
"I like a little pain," Eddie admits.
"Well, if it's bad pain and not the good kind, speak up," Steve tells him. He definitely doesn't want to hurt him. What a shitty first time that would be.
Eddie nods, and Steve starts pressing the head of his cock against Eddie with steady, solid pressure. Not rushing, but not pussy footing around, either. He's not scared of sex. It's one thing that he feels confident about, and he can't see why that'd change today.
But it's not slick enough. Eddie doesn't give under him. Not at all. Fuck.
He pulls back.
"What? No," Eddie says, reaching for him.
"This is gonna hurt like this, there's gotta be something in here we can use," Steve says.
Because there has to be something. Anything.
And he hits the jackpot. A bottle of aloe vera in the console. Left over from summer, he's sure. When the girls wanted to get oiled up to tan faster, and Robin just burned. Badly.
He squirts some on his fingers, and presses one inside Eddie. The sound Eddie makes is something he'll take to the grave. It was that good.
Once he has him slicked up and even more open, he's gone a little soft from the concentration, and when he tries to get filled out and the condom back on right, it tears. Fuck. And he used all the others he had trying to get some lube off of them.
He crawls on top of Eddie, putting the bottle down by his head, "Please tell me you have a condom in your wallet.
"I don't," Eddie admits.
And Steve punches out a breath, cupping Eddie's cheek, "That's okay. Next time."
He presses his mouth to Eddie's, tongue sliding back in. Eddie wraps one arm around his back, and tilts up his hips.
Then he takes his other, working it between them, guiding the tip of Steve's cock right against him.
And Steve moves his hips to rub against him.
"Oh," Eddie breathes out, "Oh, Jesus Christ. Fuck. Goddamn."
Steve grins, "That's what I like to hear."
And Eddie laughs. Steve likes to hear that even more.
"Fuck me," Eddie says.
"I don't have-"
"And I don't care right now. I've never been with anyone, so this is your call."
Steve's good. Eddie knows it, too. Robin made them all get tested at some event in Chicago, where she was stretching her little lesbian wings, both of them just along for the ride.
They shouldn't. But they could.
"Steve."
And Steve nods.
He inches in, head of his cock popping past that tight ring of muscle, then letting Eddie adjust. Even as it feels like a fucking vice grip on his dick. He wonders what it feels like to be on the receiving end. He hopes he gets to be on the other side of this, and soon.
"I can't wait until I get to do this," Steve says, because he can't. He wants it. He wants it all.
"I'm almost ready, I think," Eddie answers, and Steve screws up his face, thinking. Finally realizing.
"Not that," Steve says, hands running down Eddie's thighs, loving the feel of the hair there, tickling his palm. He's so fucking bisexual that he isn't sure how he ignored it until Eddie. Like, it seems absurd, now.
"Not that, take all the time you need," Steve says, reaching his hand down, touching where they are connected. "This. I can't wait until you fuck me. If you want to. Do you want to?"
"Fuck, Steve," Eddie says, "of course I want to. But if you keep making me think about that, I'm gonna come again before we even get started."
Steve might just have the same problem. He's never been inside anyone without a condom before, and he's never done anal at all. He's overwhelmed, overstimulated, in the best way.
Steve chuckles, stroking Eddie's skin, laying a kiss on the inside of his knee, then resting his cheek there, eyes still gazing towards Eddie's face, "Okay. I'll quit."
"Thank you," Eddie teases, rocking back just a little, clenching down on Steve.
Testing. Trying it out. And even if it's hard to stay still, so hard Steve swears he's about to break a sweat from it, he lets Eddie go at his own pace until he's sliding up and down on Steve's cock.
It's over fast. Before it really starts, honestly. They just barely get a rhythm going, Eddie fisting his own dick, then groaning as he clenches down on Steve as he comes. That's all it takes, Steve has to make a decision, "In or out?"
"Are you crazy? In," Eddie demands, tightening his legs around Steve, punctuating his answer. Steve thrusts a handful more times, uneven and hurling towards the point of no return, before following him over the edge.
Coming inside Eddie.
Goddamn.
After he catches his breath, he slips out, watching, and slides back into the floorboard, knees against rough carpet, and immediately presses his tongue to Eddie's cock-loosened hole.
"Oh, fuck. I died. I died, the bats got me, and this all in my poor, oxygen deprived head," Eddie rambles, and Steve pulls back to laugh. That's when he sees that Eddie has the back of his hand on his forehead, like he's in fear of fainting.
He's ridiculous.
"I'm hypoxic."
So ridiculous.
"Not likely."
And Steve puts his tongue back on Eddie, in him, tasting himself. And the bitter aloe. But mainly himself. He's fucking his tongue in and out, just eating him the fuck out some more. If Eddie wants this, Steve's happy to be face-deep forever.
In fact, this is gonna be his new thing. He's decided.
He gets lost in the feeling. He only takes breaks to bury his nose in Eddie's pubes, inhaling the musky smell of him. He feels like a pervert, but doesn't fucking care. Eddie's a self-proclaimed freak, and by god, Steve's gonna be a freak right along with him.
"Steve. Steve," Eddie says, and Steve finally pulls back. Eyes heavy, and hooded.
"Oh, fuck," Eddie says, pulling on him, tugging until he slides up his body, mouths sliding together, slick.
Getting lost in just being together. Basking in the afterglow, the heady smell of sex surrounding them in the car.
Bodies grinding. And Eddie is hard again, but so is Steve. How long was he down there? And when can he go back?
Eddie starts wiggling, and rolls over, again. Like he can't stay still. But it's worth it. Now, his ass is right there. Pretty, used hole looking right back at Steve.
He's gonna put his tongue in it again.
"Again," Eddie says, and Steve doesn't need to be told twice. He moves to scoot down, but Eddie whines, "Your dick. Not your tongue, even if that's gonna be the star of every wet dream I have from now until my inevitable demise."
"Okay, okay," Steve says, smiling at his weird, but endearing, rambling as he slicks himself back up, squirting more aloe on Eddie, watching as he jumps, "Sorry. Cold, I know."
Then he slides right back inside. No resistance now, all slick give, and soft moans. Hole gripping him, sucking him in, as if it wants him there as much as he wants to be there.
Fucking him for real this time. The edge off, so he's able to actually set a rhythm. And in the moonlit car, he watches his cock slide in and out of Eddie.
Then he slides all the way out, and rubs the head of his cock against the warm, welcoming opening, the place he's meant to be, just teasing Eddie as he gets to watch. The sight of Eddie stretching, opening, as the head of his cock finally slips back inside, is so fucking hot.
"I wish you could see this," Steve says, then adds, "because, fuck, I love…this," Steve says, catching himself, pivoting his words, and Eddie laughs, which makes him clench around Steve.
"I love you, too," Eddie says, not letting him get by with it, and Steve presses in all the way, stopping. Chest heaving, tears burning his eyes.
"You do?" Steve asks, desperate for that to be true.
"Don't be obtuse," Eddie says, and Steve's not exactly sure what that means, but he gets the message. Loud and clear. And then Eddie doubles down, and it's music to Steve's ears, hearing him say, "Of course I love you."
Steve pulls almost all the way out, and slams back in. A punctuation, as he says, "I love you. I love you, too."
And he fucking does.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember and follow along with the filthy fun! 💦
#steddie smutty september#week two#prompt: backseat#prompt: clothes on#prompt: bruise#steddie fic#steddie#stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fanfiction#steddie smut#stranger things fic#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: smutty september
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Sharing a bed with Channie
Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;
My Masterlist
Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count- 2.5k
You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.
For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.
You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!
You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.
You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.
You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.
You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.
To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.
"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.
"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"
You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.
"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.
After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.
"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.
"Brat."
"You love me."
Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."
You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?
The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?
"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!
Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."
"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.
"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.
"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.
"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.
"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."
"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.
"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.
You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?
Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.
Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"
What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.
A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️
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