#running my mouth at the dinner table
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had two weak beers after work with a coworker, with food, over two hours, and STILL I am tipsy enough to have professed to a roommate that large rotating machinery is a little sexy
#i think most mechanical engineers have a brain poison that makes them say certain things are sexy.#most common is cars or rockets.#or motorcycles.#people LOVEEEEEE to say cars are sexy. anything that goes fast and is a little dangerous and has spline curves#and I am not a car freak or a rocket freak#but I DO think that large rotating machines with lots of kinetic energy have a certain je ne sais quoi#running my mouth at the dinner table#'I won't say cars are sexy BUT'#stop there. no further#<- just kidding u have to be a freak about it just a little just a little
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Oh My Gods, Mom! No! Full Stop! Intervention! Spaghetti was picked for dinner because it could be ready whenever. Let the sauce simmer for hours. DO NOT cook the pasta until we are ready to eat. People have not even arrived yet. I understand that you are hungry but dinner will NOT be 2 minutes after arrival. Chill the fuck out.
#my mom and i are such opposites#she pours the ice water on a perfectly set table four hours before dinner#my anxiety is off the roof just stepping into that house#i'll stay over here where the dishwasher is running and i'm allowed to exist without shame#yes these are things i'm working on#once i get my heath care all sorted out i'll find a new therapist#my last one was okay but she really wasn't willing to get off script and let me deal with things on my own schedule#not fixing that mixed metaphor above because it says a lot about my current mental state#i love my family#i just hate being around people#and half my family whistles all the time and talks with food in their mouth/chews with an open mouth#and those are two of my biggest triggers
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Happy Wife, Happy Life 🤷🏽♀️ (🌽 Link)
Old Man!Price with a huge beer belly is always excited when you cook him a home cooked meal.
During his time in the SAS, John would absentmindedly fantasise about the bliss of domesticity. Of coming home to a well-loved house filled with knick-knacks with you giving John a soft smile while telling him that dinner will be on the table in a few.
Sometimes John tries to think about what religious good that he has ever done to have you in his life and he is fully convinced that domestic bliss does not exist without you in it. Pride and pity fills him up when he thinks about all the sad bastards out there who have never had the privilege of seeing you.
With all those years of training, he's developed some self restraint. He doesn't pounce straight away, wanting to take his sweet time with you.
John will sit in the living room watching you cook a hearty meal for the two of you, in your apron and not so cute pyjamas underneath which gives you such a wifely hue that he can never get over.
You plate dinner up and fix the dining table for dinner before you beckon him to sit down and eat. The mundanity of the conversation is what makes John's mind run a mile a minute. Having a beautiful wife, a delicious meal and talking about anything and everything that does relate to work. He can finally switch his mind off, he's away from the screams and shouts of the battlefield and is in the security of the four walls you share together,
Instead of the cries of the innocent and the ricochet of rockets banging in his eardrums, it's your sweet voice and loud laughs that echo in his ear like the melody of sirens. He's entranced and he only falls deeper. After dinner, John will help you clear the table, wash the dirty dishes and put away the leftovers for tomorrow's lunch.
You and John both walk to your bedroom and make your way to the en suite with John tailing behind you. Getting started with your nightly routine, he'll walk up behind you slowly yet purposefully, resting his hands on your hips before snaking his burly arms around your waist with your back flush against his chest, earning a chuckle from you.
A searing kiss on your shoulder, making his way to the curve of your neck, licking and nipping. Your face begins to flush and feel hot. A quiet, content sigh leaves your lips as John nuzzles into your neck with one hand squeezing your tits occasionally pinching your nipple.
“Come on, petal. The bed’s right there.” He’ll murmur against your skin like a lovesick puppy.
You try to protest only to have John already tugging you away from the bathroom sink to the bed. He’ll push you into the bed, settling in between your thighs. John will look up, hungry, desperate and absolutely pathetic. Peppering your inner thigh with chaste kisses, he makes his way to your clothed cunt.
“Been missing this good girl.” John buries his face into your cunt as it begins to soak your panties slightly. Groaning at the scent of you, he sucks on your panties. His saliva mixing with the arousal staining your panties. Eyes dilating as your soft mewls reverberate off the walls, John gets drunk of your noises.
“Forgot to take Viagra, hun. It’s just my mouth and hands for the night.” He looks at you apologetically.
You groan, hastily taking off your panties before shoving his face forcefully into your sopping pussy.
“More than enough, big bear.” A shudder gasp leaves your lips as John sucks on your clit, your thighs lock his head in place, pulling him even closer than before.
Blissful domesticity. John’s addiction.
#john price x reader#cod smut#john price#john price cod#john price smut#captain john#tf141 smut#captain price#john price x you#price x reader#price smut#price cod#price x you#captain price x reader#price x y/n#captain john price smut#john price x y/n#captain john price x you#captain john price x reader#captain john price#captain price x female reader#captain price x y/n#captain price x you#captain price smut#captain john price x female reader#captain john price fluff#john price fluff#price fluff#cod x reader#tf 141 x reader
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Some of My Favorite Ways to Describe a Character Who’s Sick
pressing their forehead into something cool or comfortable (this could be an array of things. the table, the floor, someones leather jacket, their water bottle, the countertop)
warm to the touch, or heat radiating from them (could be noticed if someone’s gauging their temperature with their hands, hugging them, or just generally touching them)
leaning into people’s touch, or just spontaneously leaning on them (like pressing into their hand when someone’s checking their temp, or just, like, literally walking up and laying their head on them from fatigue. bonus points if the character is usually feral and the other is scared to engage™︎)
falling asleep all over the place (at the dinner table, on their homework, in the car, in the bathroom — just being so exhausted from doing literally nothing)
being overly emotional (crying over things that don’t usually bother them, like their siblings arguing, or their homework, or literally just nothing)
stumbling/careening/staggering into things (the wall, furniture, other people. there is no coordination in feverish brains. running into chairs, hitting the door, falling over the couch, anything and everything)
slurring their words (could be from fatigue or pain. connecting words that shouldn’t be connected, murdering all of their conversations with the excessive use of ‘mm’ and ‘nn’ in place of words) (this is my favorite thing ever)
being overly touchy (basically like a sick kid — just hold them, please. do that thing where you brush their hair back out of their face, or rub circles on their back, or snuggle them. they won’t care. bonus points if this is also the feral character and they refuse to believe it afterwards)
being extremely resistant to touch (flinching away when they usually don’t so someone can’t feel the fever, not letting themselves be touched because they’re so tired they just know they’ll be putty in their hands if they do)
growing aggressive or being extremely rude (it’s a defense mechanism — they feel vulnerable and are afraid of being manipulated or deceived while they’re ill)
whimpering/whining/groaning (this was in my “characters in pain” post but it’s so good that i’m putting it here too. this shite is gold, especially if it’s just an involuntary reaction to their symptoms)
having nightmares caused by a fever and/or delirium (crying and murmuring in their sleep, or being awake but completely out of it and convinced they’re somewhere else)
making themselves as small as possible (curling up into a ball everywhere they lay, hunching over slightly when standing, wrapping their arms around themselves)
TW for vomiting below cut !!
sleeping in the bathroom floor because they keep getting sick over and over (bonus if someone finds them all weak and pitiful. bonus bonus if they find them there in the morning only to learn they’ve been there all night)
using their hands/other body parts to clamp over their mouth so nothing can come out (like pulling their knees up to their chest and using that, or like, their arm, y’know) (~maccreadysbaby who has emetophobia suddenly gets very awkward about this post~) (~yes i have a phobia of puke and still write this happening to my characters, shut up~) (~it’s about the hurt/comfort okay~)
sympathy pukers (people who aren’t the sick ones but get nauseous/vomit when they see someone else throw up) (~aka me~) (~okay I’m done now~)
dry heaving (it’s gross, but good for making your characters absolutely freaking miserable)
rolling/churning/spinning/cramping/ lurching and all those awesome words that describe what stomachs do when sick (i hate these words with a deep, fiery passion. but they’re good for writing or whatever)
#writing angst#creative writing#writing#writers#writerscommunity#writers on tumblr#writeblr#writing tips#writing help#word bank
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DESPERATELY need to see your take on poly wolfstar smut. sorry if thats too broad but youre an amazing writer and i just need to see you bring it to life.
had me at poly wolfstar 🫡
LOCKJAW | poly!wolfstar
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feat. poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: MDNI 18+, no plot just smut. oral, piv, dirty talk, cursing, softdom!Remus, switch!Sirius
AN: bc I can't get the damn tiktok audio out of my head
masterlist
Sirius was draped face down across your lap, nuzzling into the crease of your hip while his hands kneaded your thighs.
“Sirius, quit squirming,” you huffed, lifting your book to glare down at him.
“Can't get comfy,” he mumbled, lifting the hem of your shirt to bury his nose into your skin, the tip of it like an ice cube.
“Sirius! Merlin, you're a handful,” you rolled your eyes and looked towards Remus for assistance. He was stretched on the other end of the bed, watching the two of you over his own book. Sirius’ feet were in his lap, tucked between his thighs for warmth.
Remus tsked under his breath, pinching Sirius’ calf and earning an annoyed grunt. “Leave her alone, Pads. She has an exam tomorrow.”
“But I love heeeerrrr,” Sirius whined, clutching you tighter. “Smells s’good,” he hummed.
Remus shook his head, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, dove. I tried.”
Sirius had been a needy, pouting wretch all day. You woke up with his morning wood digging into your stomach, his hips twitching in his sleep as soft, mumbled moans dripped like honey from his lips. Any other morning, you would have taken full advantage of your drowsy, wanton boyfriend, but when you checked Rem’s watch on the side table, you realized the three of you were about to late to Charms…again.
And later in class, Sirius seemed incapable of focusing, every spare scrap of attention he had devoted to you or Remus, or both of you. Studying your hands as you wrote, groping beneath your robes to squeeze your flesh, nuzzling into your necks, whining pitifully in your ears. He even pulled you into his lap during Potions, his boner pressed against your uncovered heat for a dizzying, thrilling moment, before Slughorn kicked him out for being a nuisance.
At dinner, Sirius was practically eating out of your hands, desperate for even a little contact, an ounce of physical touch. By then, you and Remus had put together what was ailing your poor boy and started to play along, keying him up even further only to deny him the smallest satisfaction.
You fed Sirius grapes, bits of bread and cheese, but wouldn't let his lips touch your fingers. Remus rested a hand on Sirius’ lower thigh, tracing the bones of his knee through the hole in his jeans, but didn't dare twitch a finger higher, no matter how much Sirius whined and squirmed. You'd even given Remus a full kiss when you'd returned to the common room, tugging at his lower lip with your teeth the way you knew Sirius liked, but only gave Sirius a chaste peck, leaving him dumbstruck at the bottom of the stairs.
If you didn't relieve him soon, you feared he might combust.
You glanced up at Remus again, and he caught your eye. “Ready?” You mouthed, and Remus nodded with a sly smirk.
With deft fingers, Remus started massaging Sirius' feet and calves, increasing the pressure until Sirius was moaning against your skin, going languid in your lap with a pleased hum.
“That feel good, baby?” You cooed, running your fingers through Sirius hair. “Rem is so good with his hands, isn't he?”
Sirius nodded, his hips twitching into the mattress as Remus worked higher, pushing his thumbs up the back of Sirius' thighs in a straight line
“So tense, pet,” Remus hummed.
“Because you cunts have been torturing me all day,” he huffed, but it was toothless, softened by the breathless edge of his voice.
“Torturing you? I would never do such a thing,” you pouted, feigning indignation.
Sirius nipped at your hip before laving his tongue over the sting. “I know you felt me this morning,” he chastised, pulling down the waistband of your skirt to kiss along your hips.
“Yeah, I felt we were all going to get detention for being late to Charms,” you said, trying to ignore the blooming heat between your legs from his touch.
“Would've been worth it,” he grumbled.
“You’re right, maybe you wouldn't have been such a needy brat all day.” Remus tickled the bottom of Sirius foot and he yelped, flipping over onto his back to try and bat Remus away, but you held down his shoulders, keeping his upper body in your lap.
“You can't let him get away with—oh fuck,” Sirius' complaint was interrupted by Remus gliding his fingers between Sirius’ thighs, caressing over the thick ridge in his pajamas bottoms.
“You want me to stop him?” You asked, batting your lashes, and Sirius shook his head side to side vigorously, his hair falling across his face.
“Don't you dare stop,” he whined, canting his hips into Remus' palm.
“Poor thing,” Remus cooed, trailing his finger through the puddle of precum bleeding through the fabric of Sirius' pants. “Been suffering all day at the hands of our beautiful girl.”
You scoffed, unable to stop the grin rising on your lips. “Me? You were the one that wore that slutty little sweater vest.”
“It was temperate today! You were the one that conveniently forgot underwear this morning,” Remus shot back, winking at you.
“You what?” Sirius squawked, jolting upright to glare at you. “And you didn't tell me?!”
You shrugged, toying with the hem of your skirt. “Didn't think it was relevant.”
Sirius gaped at you and Remus snickered. “That is the meanest thing you've ever said to me,” Sirius said, clutching his heart. “Like you don't even know me.”
Remus shifted to lay between Sirius' legs, licking a stripe up his cock over his pants, distracting him from his tirade. Sirius collapsed back onto the bed with a moan, and you slipped off the edge of it before he trapped you beneath him again.
“Oh, we know you well enough, Pads,” Remus chuckled, mouthing at the head of his cock. “Don't we, dove?”
You nodded, stroking Sirius’ hair out of his face while Remus toyed with him. His eyes were half-lidded, cheeks flushed, fisting the quilt beneath him.
“Rem, don't tease me,” he whined, the muscles along his abdomen tight with the strain of keeping still.
“But you like it,” Remus said matter-of-factly. “That's why you kept up with whiny puppy-dog thing instead of just asking.”
Sirius huffed, looking at you for help, his green eyes pleading.
“We love you, Sirius,” you said, bending down to kiss his forehead. “And if you need something, just ask, yeah?”
“We're here to make you happy,” Remus added, dragging down his waistband of Sirius' pants to kiss along his hip bones.
“Just need you two,” Sirius panted, reaching for you while Remus licked up the smear of precum along his pelvis. “Please, baby.”
You unzipped your skirt and let it fall to the floor, showing Sirius the drooling, sticky mess between your legs that his desperation inspired, and he groaned, his pupils dilating instantly.
Remus chuckled. “Look how hard that made him, darling. Making a mess of himself,” he teased, though his eyes were locked between your legs too while his tongue traced over the root of Sirius. Another flush of arousal made you pussy throb, and Sirius practically whimpered.
“If you don't bring that sweet pussy over here now,” Sirius warned, grabbing you by the hip to tug you closer.
As soon as you kneeled back onto the bed, he yanked you over his face, throwing one leg on either side of his head so you were facing Remus, who had paused his own work to watch you through heavy lashes.
Sirius immediately laved his tongue through your soaked slit, a deep rumble of satisfaction reverberating from his chest when you cried out, bucking against his tongue.
“This what you wanted, pet?” Remus said, spitting on Sirius' cock and stroking it with his fist. “To be smothered by us?”
You felt Sirius nod, his tongue fucking into your sloppy channel with ruthless, hungry precision, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open. Syrupy thick pleasure pulsed through you, making your toes curl and your head fall back while he drank from you, fiendish as a vampire.
“Take your blouse off, pretty girl. Let me see you,” Remus instructed, using his thumb to massage under the head of Sirius' cock, making him whine and twitch beneath you.
You obliged, fingers clumsy as your arousal deepened. You tossed your blouse off the bed, followed quickly by your bra, and Sirius’ hands immediately shot up to grope and paw at your chest.
Delicious, spiralling heat surged through you when he tweaked your nipples, his tongue moving to circle your clit, his nose pressed against your entrance. Sirius was a master with his mouth, and his eagerness only made him more merciless in the hunt for your release.
You leaned forward, resting on your forearms on either side of Sirius' hips, and licked a stripe up his cock, tasting the heady combination of Sirius and Remus' drool.
Sirius cried out, his hips bucking up at the unexpected contact, and you giggled, repeating the motion.
“I c-can't take both of you—” his protest fractured when Remus licked along his base, your mouth suckling the head, and his cock gave a hard lurch as more blood rushed south. “Fucking saints, so good.” He dove back into your pussy, sucking your clit between his teeth and lashing it with his tongue, payback for your dirty tricks.
You cried out, spine arching as he devoured you and you felt your peak start to build, a steady stacking of pleasure that grew more precarious, more overwhelming, by the second.
“You're perfect,” Remus hummed in appreciation, lifting from Sirius’ cock to give you a messy kiss, his tongue tracing your lips before licking into your mouth, making you loose your breath.
After a few moments, and a whine in protest from Sirius, Remus broke the kiss and turned his attention back to your needy boyfriend, finally taking all of him into his mouth with a smooth, practiced swallow.
“Merlin, Moony, fuck,” Sirius grunted. “So tight.”
You combed your fingers through Remus' hair as he sucked Sirius, earning a sweet hum from your sandy haired love.
“You're perfect too, Remy,” you cooed, trying to distract yourself from your mounting orgasm. “My beautiful boy.” You kissed along his jaw, feeling the tension and tremble as he worked Sirius deeper into his throat. You saw his hips twitch, his hands fisting the sheets. “Finish him off and then you can fuck me just how you like. How's that sound?” You purred in his ear and he groaned, creating a domino effect of moans as the vibrations worked through each of you.
You felt two fingers prod at your entrance and you keened, feeling Sirius sink to the knuckle and scissor your open with his long fingers.
“Shit, Siri,” you whined, rocking back into his hand while his tongue lashed your swelling bud.
“Want you to come all over my face, darling. Taste so good, need—fuck—need it so bad,” he mumbled against your sex, lapping at the creamy mess his fingers coaxed from you.
You rested your head on Sirius’ hip, watching Remus gag on his length through a rosy haze, the combined stimulus making your mind you fuzzy, your heart pound. It was too much, an onslaught of erotic sensation, and your body was pulling apart at the seams, nerves fracturing under the strain—
You came with a scream, trying to muffle the sound into Sirius’ skin as you shattered, a gush of moisture surging from you at the intensity. You were rendered matterless, a floating speck of dust, drifting on the current of the stars.
Sirius grunted beneath you, his muscles tensing in a wave, and he bucked hard into Remus' throat, the root of his cock pulsing as he came a heartbeat after you.
Remus took it all in stride, milking Sirius with his mouth while petting your hair as you came down, tethering you both to the earth.
When you were finished, you slumped sideways onto the bed, panting and slightly shaky from the intensity of it all. Sirius rested his cheek on your thigh, breathing labored and eyes closed, his face shining with your slick.
Remus pulled off of him with a pop. “Worth the wait, Pads?” Remus asked, kissing along Sirius’ thighs.
Sirius shook his head. “We could have done that at least three times since this morning, but noooo—”
You swatted his stomach and he chuckled, nipping at the tender skin of your inner thigh. You glanced up at Remus, who was watching the two of you with so much affection it made your heart twist.
“Come here, baby,” you murmured, and Remus leaned over, capturing your lips in an airy, open-mouthed kiss that stoked the dwindling fire in your belly. You could taste Sirius on his tongue and it made your head swim, your thighs clench.
“Think our girl is ready for more, Moony,” Sirius said, untangling himself from the two of you and stepping off the bed to retrieve something.
“Is she?” Remus asked, flipping himself around and bundling you into his arms, raining kisses over your face, neck, chest and making you giggle. “What say you, my love?”
“Please, Rem?” You whined, grabbing at his cock nestled between your bodies, already rock solid and hot to the touch.
“Oh, suddenly she's polite,” Sirius scoffed, swatting your ass as he climbed back into bed.
Remus chuckled, kissing you one more time before passing you into Sirius’ arms. You snuggled into Sirius’ chest, kissing along his tattoos, loving your two boyfriends so much you could hardly breathe around the fullness in your chest.
“Hi, dolly,” Sirius hummed, drawing you up by the chin for featherlight kiss. “Ready to get fucked out of you mind?”
At the same moment, Remus lifted your hips until you rested on your knees. Face down on Sirius chest, ass up. Sirius adjusted his legs so your feet were pinned beneath them, and Remus grabbed your wrists to fasten them with Sirius’ tie behind your back, seamless in the only the way the two of them could be. Like they shared the same, filthy mind.
It made your cunt clench around nothing, your knees weak beneath you, desire pumping thick and sludgy through your blood.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned, squirming in their hold until you felt the head of Remus' cock tap against your still-sensitive clit.
“Shh, there's our sweet girl. Rem’s gonna get his now, okay? Can you do that for him? Take it like a good little slut?” Sirius asked, petting your hair and smoothing a hand over one of your trembling legs.
You nodded, burrowing into Sirius' neck to ground you. “I'll be good,” you answered, and both boys cooed in approval.
Remus brushed his lips along your spine, still teasing your clit with his cock. “You always are, precious,” he murmured, straightening. “Just try not to wake the entire castle.”
In one, brutal thrust, Remus slammed into you, his hips slapping against your ass with a definitive smack. You cried out, the sound barely muffled by Sirius’ skin, as pleasure streaked beneath your skin, frying the last functioning neurons in your brain. The maelstrom of feeling only increased as he fucked into you, ruthless and rutting.
“Fuck, Moony. Look at our girl, takin’ it so well. Aren't you, darling?” Sirius caressed your cheek, dropping a kiss into your hair.
“Yes—mmph—fuck, so big,” you mewled, fingers tensing around the tie securing your wrists, your whole body desperate to move and release some of the compounding energy that was drowning you alive.
“So fucking tight, Pads. Squeezin’ the hell out of me,” Remus grunted, his grip almost painfully tight on your hips. But you barely registered it, completely awash in the seizing, spiraling ecstasy taking over your body, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.
“You wanna come around our boy? Let him stuff that greedy little pussy full?” Sirius reached beneath you, his middle finger finding your clit like it was magnetized to it. “Absolutely dripping wet for us. Fuck me,” he praised, removing his hand to steal a taste before returning to massage quick, tight circles around the puffy bud.
“Please, please, please,” you chanted, fucking back into Remus as you chased your high, feeling him hit every angle, every inch of your stretched out cunt.
“Go on, dove. Come for us,” Remus gruffed, reaching forward to fist your hair and pull your head up, your cries of ecstasy ripping through the air.
Sirius grinned, kissing the tears as they rolled down your cheeks. “So fucking beautiful,” he said, his free hand wrapping around your throat. “Let go, love.”
And you did, your orgasm slamming into you like a branch of the Whomping Willow, knocking your soul out of your body and into the stars. You were nothing, everything, a mindless tangle of flesh and blood and feeling, the only tether you had was your boys hands on your body, Remus’ cock swelling and the scalding heat as he painted your insides.
You collapsed onto Sirius, breathless, boneless, so sensitive that even the brush of his hair was agony, the thump of his heart like a roaring train.
“Sh, sh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You did so well, all done now, dolly. You were such a good girl for us,” Sirius shushed, his voice growing clearer as the fog lifted. You were crying, trembling in his arms as the pleasure worked itself out of your system. “She's alright, Rem,” you heard him say, and that was enough to bring you fully back to the present.
You turned to look at Remus, who was watching you with a worried crinkle in his brow, slumped against the pillows at the other end of the bed, chest heaving and sweat dripping down his scarred chest.
You wiggled out of Sirius' hold and threw yourself onto Remus, kissing him with a much strength as you could muster until you felt him smile.
“Didn't mean to be so rough with you,” he murmured, skimming your jaw with his thumb. “M’sorry.”
You shook your head, silencing him with another kiss. “I love you. That was amazing. You're amazing. If I wasn't 90% gelatin I'd tell you to do it again “
The boys chuckled, Sirius climbing up to lay beside you both. You settled into your usual sandwich, Remus wrapped around your back while you nuzzled into Sirius' front, his arms draped over the both of you, and your legs all tangled together.
“I need to shower,” you grumbled, feeling Remus' release trickle onto your thigh.
“No, you need a cuddle,” Sirius retorted, already sounding half asleep.
“I could get us into the Prefect bathroom,” Remus suggested, and Sirius snapped awake.
“Why didn't you say that sooner!” He cried, shoving you both towards the edge of the bed. “Let's go, you lazy asses!”
You and Remus groaned, but let Sirius drag you up and wrap you into your robes.
Looks like you'd be sleeping in tomorrow, too.
Thank you so much for reading!
#marauders#wolfstar#poly!wolfstar#remus lupin#sirius black#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly!wolfstar fic#poly!wolfstar x you#poly!wolfstar imagine#wolfstar smut#harry potter smut#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#the marauders#the marauders era fic#sirius black smut#Remus lupin smut#harry potter#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x reader smut#Sirius black x reader smut#sirius black x reader#sirius black fic#sirius black fanfic#sirius black x y/n#remus lupin x y/n#sirius black x remus lupin#remus lupin x sirius black
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The Child You Had Before You Started Dating Him Calls Him Daddy (Batboys)
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Dick: Dick came into your apartment with flowers in his hand which prompted Jasmin to bolt as soon as she heard the door.
"D- Da- Daddyyy." Jasmin cuddles his leg giggling. Dick laughs as well and sets the flowers down on the table before scooping her up.
"How's my sweet girl? Hmm?" Dick tickles her and she errupts in laughter which makes a smile flood your lips.
"Da- Daddy stop!" She was just squirming and giggling, happier than ever. Her favorite parts of the day were with you and with Dick.
"Okay, I'll stop." He kisses her forehead before setting her down and she runs off to go play with her today.
"Hey, I'm really sorry about that...Some of the teachers at her school started asking about her Dad and she asked them what a dad was...Once it was described to her, she said it was you....or at least thats at least how I was told it happened."
"Oh, Baby. Dont worry about it. It's no big deal and I'm happy Jazzy thinks of me like her father. I love you both and I'm honored she feels that way." He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead.
"I brought you flowers by the way, Sweetheart and you look amazing as always."
Jason: Aurora sat in Jason's lap as he played Fortnite watching the tv as Jason controlled the character and racked up kills.
"Kick their butts, Daddy!" She screamed which caused Jason to freeze for a second as he questioned if he heard her right. Jason continued playing the game and won. (ofc he did) You entered the room with two plates of chicken nuggets, Aurora's favorite.
"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy won!" Aurora squealed in her pride over Jason winning.
"Oh, did he?" You and Jason looked both as just confused, you never told her to call him that, she did it on her own.
"Rory he's not your-" You started cause you thought Jason would be upset about it due to the confused look on his face.
"Babygirl, it's fine. If she wants to call me that then I don't mind." Jason stated with a smile.
"Princess, Go wash your hands before dinner, Okay?" Jason asked Aurora.
"Okay, Daddy!" She scrambled out of Jason's lap to the bathroom.
"I guess you're not the only one calling me Daddy now." He smirked.
"Jason!" You laughed as heat filled your cheeks, that was something neither of you really brought up but both seemed to enjoy like a guilty pleasure.
Bruce: "No! I push button!" May yelled at Bruce...She has the gall of men a hundred times larger than her, probably her taking after Bruce as far as you could tell.
"Oh, is that so Little Boss Lady?" Bruce teasingly mocked her, the same stance where her hands were on her hips, she narrowed her eyes and he narrowed his back before sticking out his tongue and making a silly face.
"You're such a Silly Billy, Daddy!" She giggles as she speaks to him, distracted from button pushing.
"Am I?" He smiled as the words came out of his mouth, of course his other kids would call him Dad time to time but knowing May felt so comfortable to do so meant the world to him.
"You wanna push the button? We can do it together?" Bruce asked with a smile and an inquisitive look as if he didnt already know the answer.
"I push button with Daddy?" She asked as she took her thumb out of her mouth.
"Yeah, we push it together." He said as he took the hand she didn't have in her mouth and pushed the button with him.
Tim: Anna had crawled into the bed after a while of her being up, like a little gremlin she jumped up and down.
"Daddy, wake up! Wake up, Daddy! I go back to school! You come me with me and Mommy! I show everyone Daddy!"
Of course he was tired from a night of long crime-fighting, as soon as he was coherent enough to realize what she was asking of him that she wanted to introduce him to everyone as her Dad he quickly got up.
"Go to Mommy, I'm gonna get dressed, Okay? Then we go back to school together, Okay?" He ruffled the little girls hair.
"You match with me?" She asked as she twirled around in her Toy Story tee dress that Tim got her a couple weeks back, he'd get her the moon if she asked.
"Of course, I'll match with you." Tim's closet was full of graphic tees so she could just about wear anything and he could match. He slipped on a shirt that had the little green aliens on it from Toy Story, a pair of jeans and some very well loved Converse.
Tim was quick with it, he grabbed her backpack which happened to be the little green alien as well, no suprise there. That was Anna's favorite which made it Tim's favorite as well. She could convince him to like arson if she did, he was wrapped around her finger.
"Ohhhh! Daddy looks stylish!" She said with a giggle in the same tone and words he'd tell her all the time. He was her Dad through actions but hearing that word from her mouth meant the entire world to him.
"Come on, My Lil Munchkin." He put her on his hip and grabbed your hand as he guided you both to the car so you could get to the school and Anna could introduce him to everyone as her Dad.
Damian: You had started seeing Damian before you even knew you were pregnant, It was a one night stand a few nights before you met him.
He was sweet in the way he went through the whole pregnancy with you, the birth, taking care of little Enzo and everything.
Enzo was now getting old enough to talk and you dont even know who taught him it, it could be Jason playing a prank or Talia doting on the baby she saw as a grandchild, but regardless Enzo was now calling Damian 'Daddy'.
"Da- Da!" He giggled as he looked at Damian from his crib across Damian's office, his little green eyes peered into Damian's.
"I'm not your Dad, Kid." He stated to the child as he filled out paperwork, this work felt monotonous and at least the kid gave him some sort of entertainment.
"Daaaa- Daaaaa." Enzo almost giggled as he could tell he was pissing Damian off, he was a little trouble maker that's for sure.
"I'm not your Dad, You Little Shit." Damain was getting a bit annoyed, not because Enzo was saying it but because he didnt see himself as worthy or prepared enough for a child. Enzo just giggled and called out to Damian again.
"My Son." Damian whispered as he gazed down at his son sleeping in his lap, he might not be his by blood but he was sure his in temper and attitude.
"Fine." He gave in with very little pressure from the very little child. Enzo laughed as he noticed Damian give in and he reached his little arms out to Damian.
Enzo made his black heart swell, Like the Grinch's heart growing a whole size. He walked over to the little boy and picked him up out of his crib. Enzo calmed in Damian's presence, finally feeling safe and calm enough to sleep while Damian did paperwork.
Masterlist
#batboys#jason todd x reader#jason todd#damian wayne x reader#dick grayson x reader#red hood x reader#batboys x reader#batman x reader#tim drake x reader#bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson#nightwing x reader#red hood#damian wayne#bruce wayne
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accident. | JP x Reader
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PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader
SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.
WC: 3.6k
WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst
A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.
He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.
Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.
Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.
He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.
Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.
Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.
“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”
“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.
“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”
Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.
Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.
“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.
She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.
“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.
“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.
“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.
Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.
Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.
“Fucking hell.”
_
You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.
Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.
Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.
“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.
Javier was supposed to pick you up too.
But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself
You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.
Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.
What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.
You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.
You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.
You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.
—
Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.
When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.
Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.
The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.
Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”
Thwack.
An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.
“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.
Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.
“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.
Thwack. Thwack.
The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.
“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”
You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.
Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.
He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”
The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.
You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.
“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.
“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”
“Mi-”
“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.
Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.
You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.
“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.
“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.
You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”
Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.
You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”
The words pierce through Javier’s heart.
Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.
“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."
Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.
A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.
“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.
“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.
A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.
Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.
“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.
“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.
You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.
You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.
But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.
Now it was your turn to fuck things up.
Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.
Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.
You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.
You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.
“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.
Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.
“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.
That wasn’t what scared you.
What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.
“Javi, I’ll go get the-“
“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.
You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.
“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.
Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.
You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.
”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.
Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.
“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.
You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.
He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.
“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.
“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.
“Answer me, mama”
A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.
”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.
Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.
“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.
Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.
“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.
You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.
”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.
”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”
You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.
“Yes, Javier” you repeated.
He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.
It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.
You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.
“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.
“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.
You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.
“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.
“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.
“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.
“I know.” He says back gruffly.
Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.
“Merida”
You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.
”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.
Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.
“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.
You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.
Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.
“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.
Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.
You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.
It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.
Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.
“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.
“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.
He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.
He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.
“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.
You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.
Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.
You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.
“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.
You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”
You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”
You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.
You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.
Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.
#fic: accident#javier pena fluff#javier pena x you#javier pena one shot#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena imagine#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javier pena x reader#javier peña#javier pena angst#javier pena x y/n#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#narcos smut#narcos#narcos fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal angst#divider credit: unknown pls dm#did I die and come back to life writing this? take a wild guess
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tease —
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prompt / request — "look at the mess you're making."
paring — reader + boyfriend!seungcheol
word count — 746
genre — smut [fingering, p in v, creampie]
the minute you leave your house, you’d started to tease your boyfriend; shifting a little too much in his passenger seat so your skirt rode up while he gripped your thigh, running your manicured nails along his hand.
seungcheol didn’t think too much of it as you arrived at dinner with your friends. you go through most of the dinner without teasing him, but after one too many drinks, you get bolder.
you start off subtle, resting your hand on his thigh as you talked to jeonghan across the table. your boyfriend is engrossed in his conversation with mingyu until your hand started trailing up his thigh, your nails raking against his inner thigh.
when your hand gets a little too high, his hand covers yours, squeezing lightly to stop you from moving further up.
he leans in to your ear, making it seem like he’s pressing a kiss on your temple. “what’re you doing, baby?” he whispers. “hm?” you play dumb.
“you know what you’re doing,” he says, squeezing your hand again. “oops, i didn’t realize i was,” you look at him innocently. “sure you didn’t,” he hums.
you both go back to your conversations with his members but you don’t stop teasing him. you run your hand over his cock, feeling him tense up.
you rub him over his pants, feeling as he got harder. you should’ve realized he was planning something when he stayed silent, not stopping your teasing.
the minute you leave the restaurant and get to his car, he pushes you into the backseat.
“you had your fun in there, baby. now it’s my turn.” he practically growls in your ear.
it’s cramped in the backseat but neither of you care as he connects his lips to yours. he doesn’t waste his time pushing his hand up your skirt.
you’re about to try and take your tights off but before you even make a move to, you hear a rip, whining a little.
“cheollie! these were a new pair,” you whine. “i don’t care. I’ll buy you new ones,” he says, pulling your panties to the side.
“so messy already,” he whispers in your ear, sliding his finger against your wetness. “teasing me got you this worked up? i didn’t even touch you and you’re already like this?” he purrs.
“so needy for me,” he continues, pumping his fingers in and out of you. “cheol– need you,” you whimper as he slides another finger in you.
“hm? my fingers aren’t enough for you? such a needy princess,” he says, removing his fingers entirely.
you tug at his belt loops impatiently as he quickly undid his belt. your mouth waters at the sight of his hard, leaking cock as he taps it against your folds.
“don’t tease,” you whine when he only pushes his tip in before pulling out and doing it again. “yeah? but you’re allowed to tease me while we’re with our friends?” seungcheol asks.
but as much as he wants to tease you, he wanted you just as bad and couldn’t hold himself back. he pushed into you slowly, taking his time to let you adjust.
but once you tell him to go faster, he doesn’t hold back. you claw at his biceps at he pounds into you, whispering filthy praise in your ear the entire time.
“taking me so well.”
“it’s like you were made to take my cock.”
“your perfect pussy is gripping me so well.”
just his words alone were enough to push you closer to the edge so the minute he reached down to rub your sensitive bud, you were gone.
“that’s it princess. cumming for me like a good girl,” he purrs in your ear, slowing his thrusts enough to let you ride out your orgasm.
“look at the mess you’re making,” he grunts, looking down at the way you’re soaking his cock.
“think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispers, thrusting into you again as you nod. he chases his own high, fucking you to your second orgasm of the night before he finishes inside you.
you’re both panting as seungcheol holds himself up above you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he pulls out slowly.
he pulls your panties back in place, making sure to keep his cum inside you. he kisses your forehead sweetly as he helps you sit back up, fixing your skirt.
“i’m still not done with you yet, princess. just wait til we get home.”
#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen smut#svt smut#channiesbakery drabbles
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SQUID GAME CHARACTERS KINKS HEADCANONS
CONTAINS — namgyu x reader, thanos x reader, daeho x reader, semi x reader, myungi x reader
WARNINGS — (fem reader) 18+ content minors dni
masterlist
NAMGYU / PLAYER 124 — dacryphilia, hand over your mouth
dacryphilia — loves the sight of your tears from how well he’s pleasing you. he definitely teases you and will make fun of you for it, but he loves it, don’t worry. after the first time he makes you cry, he decides that anytime you two have sex, he has to make you cry. sometimes he’s a little rougher to obtain this. weather that be by pinching your nipples or biting your neck a little too hard, it doesn’t matter, he has to see those pretty tears.
the sight of his hand over your mouth also just gets him going. it makes him feel like he’s got some sort of power over you and he’s living for it. you just look so pretty as your tears slide over his palm, he can’t help himself.
THANOS / PLAYER 230 / CHOI SU-BONG — chemsex
not really an actual term, but hes a druggie and what’s better than doing drugs while having sex with you? and i don’t just mean popping a quick pill in his mouth, nah. doing lines of coke all over you. snorting that shit off your neck, off your tits, off your ass, everywhere. loves blowing the smoke from his fruity vape right onto your clit and if he’s got a condom on, he’ll lay down on his side and have you snort a line of coke right off of his dick. it’s certainly not safe, but if he’s super high out of his mind, he’s just gonna let you snort the coke off of his dick raw. no condom. loves the feeling of your nose rubbing lightly against his dick and the feeling of the air from your nose. got him cumming without really even touching him that much.
for sure takes a hit of his vape before going into kiss you and then blowing it all into your mouth.
“you’re thanos’s girl, yeah? hah, got two of my favorite things together. drugs and your pretty pretty pussy.”
KANG DAEHO — sitophilia, cockwarming
sitophilia — not into all foods, more specifically, whip cream. god, licking it off your perky nipples and licking it off right above your clit and then dragging his tongue down all the way through your folds? he’s already cumming. which on another note, he loves eating you out. might accidentally overstimulate you if he gets super into it.
he also lovessss cockwarming. just pushing into you, bottoming out completely and being cuddled up close to you, your bodies warmth being shared between each other makes his cock twitch. he loves feeling your warm walls melt and tighten around him every so often. everytime you move to get comfortable, you run the risk of him cumming after only a few seconds. the whole situation gets him painfully hard. there’s times where he can fall asleep with you like that. there’s even been times where you’ll straddle his lap, keeping his dick warm while you two sit in a chair at your dinner table and you’re sitting on his lap and you feed each other. everytime you two laugh at a joke or the goofiness of the situation, it’s causes him to thrust up in you or you to bounce on him, immediately causing him to grip onto your waist and press his forehead to your chest as he takes choked up shaky breaths trying to compose himself. sometimes he can last a long time just staying still, content with letting you just cockwarm him. and other times? he’s a begging mess and just can’t hold on any longer.
“baby, i don’t think i can stay still much longer. let me move, please?”
SE-MI / PLAYER 380 — manhandling, orgasm denial, overstimulation, voyeurism
she likes knowing that your pleasure is in her hands. if you want to cum, it’s not your choice, it’s hers. loves pulling her tongue away from your clit right when she can tell you’re about to squirt all over her face. loves seeing you beg for her to let you cum, and eventually she’ll give in. if she’s feeling a little mean, after she finally lets you cum, she’ll keep her tongue attached to your pussy. she’ll keep on sucking it over and over and she won’t stop until you’re crying out.
“what? i thought you said you wanted to cum, baby.”
voyeurism— sometimes when she pulls away when you were oh so close to cumming, she has you make yourself finish. she watches you finger yourself and rub circles into your clit while listening to your sweet moans. she loves it when you can’t do it yourself and you have to beg her to help you.
she also loves manhandling you. doesn’t have to be extreme either. just holding you down by your hips or her putting you into any position she desires gets her going. she just loves knowing she has all the power and the control over you.
MYUNGI / PLAYER 333 / MG COIN ★ — rough sex, vanilla
i don’t think he’s into anything too crazy. i think he’s going to have very calm more organized and kept together thrusts while he has a nice grip on your hips, but then there’s other times where he’s in a shitty mood or just feeling different and his thrusts are a lot sloppier and a lot harder. his grip on your hips is tighter, almost digging his fingers into you. i also think hes into quickies as well. maybe not so much into them, but he does have quickies quite often with you. sometimes he has fun with it, sometimes it’s just because he has to get his dick wet. i think he’s generally a more tame guy, but that doesn’t make the sex with him bad at all. he knows what he’s doing, and he’s the best at it.
#squid game x reader#squid game headcanons#squid game smut#squid game reaction#squid game reactions#thanos x reader#namgyu x reader#myungi x reader#player 333 x reader#myung gi x reader#semi x reader#se mi x reader#se-mi x reader#daeho x reader#dae ho x reader#thanos smut#daeho smut#namgyu smut#semi smut#myungi smut#myung gi smut
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TRAILERPARK!RAFE who expects you to be in bed when he comes home, only to find you in the big recliner you both always cuddle up on. it seems like you tried to wait up for him; key word being tried. dinner cold on the small table and it warms his heart to imagine you moving around the kitchen and making something for him. your sweet little slip rides up your thighs and your body is curled onto itself, mind miles away in dreamland. rafe quickly becomes amused.
“jesus, ‘course—”
he chuckles and runs a hand down his face, stopping his words before they wake you up. with his keys abandoned by the door in an antique bowl you once described as precious, he sits on the couch and keeps eyes on you as he unties his work boots. he feels exhausted and desperate to embrace your warm, sleepy self. soft hums and incoherent babbles leave your lips and rafe just knows you were watching tv as you fell asleep. 
with an adoring sigh, he stands and scoops you up. his nose finds purchase at your hairline, breathing in that sweet pea shampoo you use. slightly expensive for the life you two live and he’s had to go without his packs a few times for it, but rafe can’t get enough of the scent or the way you smile when he brings it home. so intoxicating and so you.
on his way to the small room you two have made yours, he feels you stir a bit in his arms. the loving warmth and touch of your man comforting and rousing all at the same time. it’s when he lays you down that you open your eyes slightly, the sparkle dull with sleep but still there. he pinches your nose in affection and a huff of a giggle falls from your mouth. rafe pulls off his shirt and tank top, undoing his belt with a lazy smirk that always sends your mind reeling and thighs squeezing together.
you might want him, and he definitely wants you but sleeps siren call is just too strong for either to ignore.
you turn yourself around as playfully as you can muster, your back an invite for him to press close; his favorite way to hold you. he climbs onto the worn mattress, nestling against you underneath the quilt. firm chest pressing tightly to your back and a large hand running up and down your side, lips pressing fluttering kisses to your shoulder. you feel a tingle of sparks at his scruffy beard that scratches your skin so deliciously. he’ll shave it in the morning and you’ll tease him about looking eighteen again, just like always until it grows back. his voice is a warm, fuzzy grumble against you; his thick drawl eases your mind and makes you excited to pounce on him once dawn hits.
“there’s my girl. so sweet waitin’ f’me, huh? know i love you, mmh?”
#trailerpark!rafe#rafe cameron#fanfic#outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#outer banks imagine#obx fanfiction#obx x reader
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it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.
everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed.
once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.
“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy.
“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?”
“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”
he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.
"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.
then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him.
he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again.
you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.
"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.
"nothing."
"you gonna do this right now?"
"do what?"
"just show me what you want."
"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"
before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.
"yeah? other boyfriend?"
"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.
“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.
“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.
“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”
he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.
later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.
he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.
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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses).
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.”
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.”
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs.
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you.
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat.
“What time is it?” you ask.
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?”
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds.
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic.
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him.
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling.
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.”
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him.
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder.
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed.
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips.
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.”
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.”
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one.
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.”
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.”
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.”
“Can you sit up, at least?”
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?”
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard.
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Was that a dracula impression?”
“I command you.”
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out.
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.”
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him.
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?”
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.”
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.”
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.”
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…”
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity.
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.”
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.”
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.”
“But for how long?” you ask.
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to.
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms.
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?”
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.”
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.”
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now.
You shut your eyes.
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums.
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?”
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say.
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life.
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along.
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath.
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.”
“Do you want to?”
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too.
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–”
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.”
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?”
“Remus–”
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.”
“So you like me?”
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.”
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head.
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth.
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.”
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo.
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder.
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess.
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.”
“After that?”
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely.
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed.
—
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud.
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid.
He flinches.
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but.
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you?
What are the rules here?
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay.
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep.
He should let you sleep.
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm.
“Mm?” you hum.
“I need to ask you something.”
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do.
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.”
“I just need to ask you something.”
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness.
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?”
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you.
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him.
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple.
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.”
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense.
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?”
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek.
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate.
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.”
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says.
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.”
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways.
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say.
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight.
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it.
“I'm chucking them out!”
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?”
“What?!”
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?”
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm.
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.”
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy.
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company.
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.”
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him.
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off.
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease.
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#marauders era#remus x reader#remus x you#marauders#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#marauders x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders
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Theories of Relativity
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: you don’t need TikTok theories to prove that your relationship is a dream come to life, but it doesn’t hurt when your boyfriend passes all of them with flying colors
The Olive Theory
When you love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices and compromises for them (even if those sacrifices are something small like pretending to hate olives just so you can give them to your olive-loving partner instead)
You sit across from Charles at the long dinner table, smiling as he animatedly recounts the race from last weekend. His hands wave through the air, punctuating his story as he describes the final lap battle with Max down to the last corner. You’re only half listening though, too distracted by how handsome he looks in his dinner jacket, his tanned skin glowing in the low light of the restaurant.
As Charles pauses to take a sip of wine, you lean in and whisper, “I wasn’t really watching the race, I only had eyes for you.”
Charles chuckles, his nose crinkling adorably. “Oh really? So you missed all the action then?"
You shrug, trailing a finger down his arm. “What can I say, I find you far more interesting than the other cars going around in circles.”
Charles opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a mechanic sitting a little way down from you. “Oi Charles, why do you keep picking all the olives out of your salad?"
You look down, noticing the small pile of olives Charles has stacked onto the edge of his plate.
Charles glances at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Oh, um, I’m not a huge fan of olives.”
The mechanic frowns in confusion. “But I’ve seen you eat olives before. You always get them on your pizza.”
“I, uh ...” Charles stammers, clearly flustered.
Under the table, you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Charles looks at you and you give him a small nod.
“Well, the truth is,” Charles says, turning back to the mechanic. “I actually love olives. But Y/N loves them even more than I do. So I pick them out of my food to give to her.”
You smile softly at Charles, warmed by his thoughtfulness. The mechanic chuckles and shakes his head. “You two are so cute it’s almost gross.”
Charles just grins and pops an olive into your mouth. “Anything for mon amour.”
You crunch the olive happily, then lean in to give Charles a quick kiss on the lips. “People who say chivalry is dead have simply never met you.”
The conversation moves on, flowing from racing to travel and everything in between. Under the table, your fingers stay intertwined with Charles’ the whole time.
After dinner, you all head outside into the cool night air. Charles’ team members head off towards their own cars, calling out goodbyes.
You snuggle into Charles’ side as you walk towards where his Ferrari is parked. “Thank you for the olives,” you say. “But you really don’t have to deprive yourself on my account.”
Charles wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “I want to though. I like making you happy.”
You stop next to the car, turning to face him. Running a hand down his chest you say, “You know what would really make me happy right now?"
“Hmm?" Charles murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.
You grin mischievously. “A stop for gelato on the way home.”
Charles laughs and opens the car door for you. “Anything for you, mon cœur.”
The Bird Test
If you say something that could be deemed insignificant and your partner responds with genuine curiosity, that’s a really good sign that your relationship will last a long time
The Brazilian sun beats down as you wander hand-in-hand with Charles along the edges of the Interlagos circuit. It’s the day before qualifying, and Charles brought you out to the track in São Paulo to share the grid walk with you.
You stroll slowly, enjoying a rare private moment together during the hectic race weekend. Charles points out details along the track — the tricky off-camber Turn 3, the sharp left-right complex at Turns 5 and 6, the long full throttle blast down the back straight.
You love seeing him so in his element here, his passion for racing evident in his voice and gestures.
As you round Turn 12, heading down the home straight, a flash of bright blue in the trees catches your eye. Gasping in excitement, you grab Charles’ arm and point.
“Look, a hyacinth macaw!”
Charles follows your gaze to the large, vividly colored parrot perched in the branches. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never seen one outside of a zoo.”
You bounce on your toes, thrilled at the sighting. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That bright blue is unreal. Macaws are pretty rare around here, I can’t believe we spotted one!”
Charles smiles at your obvious delight, then turns back to observe the macaw with curiosity. “What do they eat?" He asks. “Fruit, like other parrots?"
“Yes exactly!” You reply eagerly. “Mostly palm nuts and acai berries. And they need a huge range of territory, something like 80 square kilometers.”
As you chat more facts about the brilliant bird, Charles listens attentively, asking more questions and commenting on its beauty. His genuine interest and engagement makes your heart flutter happily.
Eventually the macaw takes flight, its bright wings flashing blue against the trees as it disappears into the forest.
“Incredible,” Charles murmurs, watching it go. “What an amazing thing to see.”
He turns back to you, eyes shining. “Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have spotted it myself. I love seeing you so excited teaching me about something you’re passionate about.”
You step closer, looping your arms around his neck. “And I love that you always listen and want to know more, even if it’s not about racing.”
Charles wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tenderly. “Of course, your passions are my passions now too. I want to know everything that sparks that beautiful light in your eyes.”
The Orange Peel Theory
A partner’s willingness to perform small acts of service is indicative of a healthy relationship
Early morning sun filters into the kitchen as you sip your coffee, still wearing the oversized Ferrari shirt you slept in. Charles stands at the counter across from you, freshly showered and humming to himself as he browses his phone.
Setting your mug down, you grab an orange from the fruit bowl and start to peel it. Or at least you try. The tough rind puts up a stubborn fight, your nails scraping uselessly against it.
“Ugh, I hate peeling oranges,” you grumble after a minute. “Whose idea was it to make the peel so impossible?"
Charles glances up with a sympathetic smile. “Here, let me.”
He takes the orange from your hands and deftly digs his thumb into the top, effortlessly tearing the peel away in one long curl.
You watch in admiration as he strips the rest of the orange until it’s completely naked and ready to eat.
“Voila,” Charles presents it with a flourish. “One perfectly peeled orange for mon ange.”
“My hero,” you grin. You go to take it from him but Charles playfully keeps it out of reach.
“Ah ah, allow me,” he says. Holding your gaze, he gently pulls apart one glistening segment and brings it to your lips.
Happiness bubbles up in you at this sweet, unexpected gesture. You let Charles pop the orange slice into your mouth, savoring the bright citrus burst.
“Delicious,” you murmur. Charles smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his thumb brushing a drop of juice from your lower lip.
One by one he continues to peel the segments and feed them to you, interspersing each with tender kisses that taste of orange and love.
You close your eyes blissfully, letting the sensual ritual relax you. Charles takes his time, not rushing. He knows this is your favorite part of the morning, stealing these private moments together before the busy day sweeps you both up.
When the last segment is gone, Charles kisses you again, deeper this time. You loop your arms around his neck, melting against him.
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you whisper when you finally separate.
Charles nuzzles your nose with his. “You may have said it once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.”
You lean into him contentedly. As always, his thoughtfulness and care warms you from the inside out.
Peeling an orange is such a small act but the meaning behind it speaks volumes. Charles knows your quirks and preferences, and cherishes these little opportunities to make your day brighter.
The little things that mean everything.
You’re still musing dreamily about this when Charles tips your chin up. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks with a curious smile.
You shake your head, focusing back on him. “Just thinking about us. And how perfectly you peel my oranges.”
Charles laughs. “Well I’m glad to be of service. I know how you hate getting orange string stuck under your nails.”
He kisses your fingertips one by one. “Can’t have anything marring these beautiful hands.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “Oh yes, I need to keep my hands soft and dainty in case a prince comes along to propose.”
Charles squawks in protest and tackles you against the counter, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you mercilessly. You dissolve into helpless giggles, swatting him away.
“No no, stop! I take it back!” You gasp.
Charles relents, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. “Too late, you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.
You snuggle into him contentedly. No fantasy prince could ever compete with the reality of Charles.
The Invisible String Theory
An invisible string connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance (the string may stretch or tangle but it will never break)
The living room is filled with laughter and happy chatter as you and Charles sit surrounded by both your families. Your wedding is only two days away, and his mother suggested gathering everyone together one night for reminiscing and quality time.
Looking through old photo albums is proving to be hilarious and heartwarming. Baby pictures, school plays, family vacations — memories preserved to embroider the story of your lives before fate brought you together.
Charles smiles wistfully as Lorenzo shows an album from their childhood. “I wish my godfather and father could have met you,” he says softly. “They would have loved you so much.”
You take his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder. His lost loved ones are always close to his heart.
Your mother passes an album to you with a smile. “Oh this one is from our trip to France when you were five! So many cute little Y/N photos.”
You roll your eyes but obligingly open the album, Charles peering over your shoulder. You flip through pictures of your younger self building sandcastles on the beach, wearing a hilariously large sun hat, beaming gappily with missing front teeth.
Charles grins down at you. “Adorable. I can’t wait for our kids to-”
He stops abruptly, staring down at the page. You follow his gaze to a photo of your family in Nice, taken in front of the Le Negresco hotel. And there in the background, almost out of frame — four familiar figures walking down the promenade.
A young Charles holds the hand of a teenage boy you immediately recognize as Jules. On Charles’ other side, his father Hervé carries a toddler Arthur.
Your breath catches sharply. The families fall silent around you. Charles’ fingers tremble slightly as they trace over the image.
“Of course we went to Nice often,” he whispers. “I had no idea ...” His voice trails off, thick with emotion.
Arthur cranes his head to see. “Is that us? With Papa and Jules?" He looks between you and Charles with wide eyes.
“Almost twenty years ago,” Lorenzo marvels. “And your paths were already crossing.”
Pascale wipes at her eyes, grasping Charles’ other hand tightly. “It was meant to be. Some invisible string tying you together even then.”
Charles’ fingers tremble as they trace over the image. For one brief, impossible moment, it feels like you’re all together — you, Charles, Jules, Hervé. Preserved in time, intersecting at the crossroads of past and future.
Though you never met in life, somehow you were all bound in that instant, tied by invisible strings of destiny. Strings that would one day guide you and Charles to each other.
It’s only a photo, yet looking at it you feel Jules and Hervé’s presence like a bittersweet embrace. As if across the years, they’re saying we know you. We love you. We’re so happy for you both.
You stare down at it, this captured moment of impossible synchronicity. A glimpse of the thread that wove itself silently through your lives until the day it finally drew you together.
Charles meets your eyes, his own shimmering with tears. Without words, you know he feels it too. The impossible link stretching back through time. Proof you were always meant to find each other.
He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I believe that with all my heart, we’ve always been connected somehow.”
“Soulmates,” you whisper.
You cling to him, overwhelmed with certainty. Through accidents of time and geography, missteps and milestones, your story was always guiding you here.
Meant for each other. Destined, even then.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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One Piece men reaction to you stealing their signature clothes
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Trafalgar Law, Eustass Kid, Killer
Masterlist
Luffy
He is running thru the deck, absolutely nervous and irritated, ¿where is his hat?, he is almost having a panic attack.
Suddently he saw you fishing on the border of the deck with his hat on.
He instantly deflates like a balloon, you two are dating and he ussually lets you use his hat but it's the first you steal it without permission.
He approaches you from behind and wraps his rubber arms around yourself, enough silent to scare you but enough strong to not let you fall.
"Hi captain, how are you doing?"
"I tought my hat disappeared, i was scared, you know it's important to me." his voice sounded a little sad, you must have given him a lot of trouble.
"Sorry gorgeous, i wanted to fish but the sun it's too hot and you were sleeping so i took it, i shouldn't have done that."
"You can take my hat, but please, tell me next time."
"Of course i will, not doing this again, i don't want you to have another rough wake up." you give him a little kiss on the nose, you know he loves it.
"And if you want to fish tell me first, i want to fish with you..." a little of his ussual child behaviour is back.
"But you were sleeping," he hid his face on your neck.
"Then wake me up."
"You don't like that."
"I like it when you do it, and i can always sleep here." he placed his head on your lap and fell asleep again.
Zoro
It was a crazy idea, but you wanted to try it.
You stealed his haramaki while he was sleeping and you had a goal in mind with that.
You were in front of the mirror, trying to clip the haramaki tight enough to make a top for you.
You almost got it, it was starting to look good.
Then the door opened and Zoro appeared with an irritated look.
Then he saw you and his mouth dropped almost to the floor.
"What were you..." he didn't finish the question, instead he was doing hand signals.
"I thought it would look good." you are now blusing, a lot.
"You.... you can't...." it sounded like Zoro couldn't talk properly, that's when you saw he was blushing too, "You look very good on it," he covered his face with his hand.
"Thanks, i am glad you are not mad."
"I am mad but you look pretty, i hope you didn't break it."
"No, i am just clipping it, no sewing." he got behind you and put his hands on your waist.
"I can help, but later i will get a reward for contributing in this model's look." you laughed.
Sanji
He has a set of jewelry which consists on a necklace, a ring and a bracelet.
There are some ocasions that he lets you have one of the three, but you wanted to try it all.
Today he was doing dinner and you hugged him from behind.
You felt him tense but he was still cutting the vegetables, but now at a slower pace.
You were already wearing the ring so you showed it to his face and then got to his neck and unclipped the golden chain.
His breathing was starting to hitch, he isn't sure if he would be able to turn around and ask you what you were thinking.
You put the necklace on you neck and then you move your hand to his wrist.
Now he is completely unable to continue doing his chores.
You uncliped the third item and put it on yourself.
He finally turned around and saw you admiring how his yewelry looks on yourself.
"What are you doing." he was trembling.
"I wanted to see how good they look on me." you showed the ring and bracelet on his face again.
"And you need it to do it like that? mon amour." and then Sanji got a nose bleed and needed to sit down.
Trafalgar Law
He was so inmerse on his book that he didn't sense you enter the room and take his hat from the table.
He told you he couldn't sleep with you that night but you needed to feel him close so you stealed the hat, carefully.
At the end he finished his readings sooner so he got to your bedroom, he was so tired that he didn't noticed he wasn't wearing his hat.
The surprise came when he got to your side and saw his hat on you.
He blushed a lot, almost tripped, you looked so cute in his eyes.
He is not the one to think someone is cute but you always manage to make him flustered.
He wanted to wake you up and kiss you but after some thinking, he realize he is too tired to do it, so he waited to next morning.
When you woke up you were really surprised, Law tends to sleep on his side of the bed keeping distance from you, but this night he was trapping you with his arms.
You were unable to leave his embrace, but you aren't complaining about it.
Eustass Kidd
You were really cold, the winter island was giving you a hard time.
So you took his coat to get out of the ship to do some shopping.
When you came back his yellings were audible from miles away, apparently he tought someone was making jokes on him.
When he saw you getting on the deck with his red coat, he almost choked.
He really liked seeing you with his coat (his nose almost bleed) but he needed to keep his reputation.
He yells at you trying to discipline you on public (not to much).
When you both got into your room he tried to make it up.
"Don't think i will forgive you." you said while laying on bed.
"I have a reputation, but i didn't meant to be so rude."
"i am not hearing an apology."
"Sorry." He is red as a tomato.
"Good boy." you patted his head carefully while his arms embrace you.
"It suited you very well." you laugh when he hid is face on your chest.
Killer
Another heart attack, he never goes outside without his helmet, so when he wakes up and couldn't find it, he starts to anxious.
Early enough he discovers that you are on the bathroom cleaning it, repainting it and fixing it.
When he opened the door it was like you both became deers looking at car lights.
You were sure he was going to be mad at you but seeing someone being so preoccupied with his favourite.
"You could have said something:"
"I wanted it to be a surprise, plus this thing is nasty as fuck." his big muscular arms went to your waist.
"Thanks." he rubbed his head to yours and lowered himself for you to put the helmet on him.
"No." you pated his blonde hair, "this thing is still wet, so you have to wait."
"Kid is going to kill me if im late."
"Don't worry, we can manage to dry it fast."
#one piece imagine#one piece x reader#one piece#one piece x you#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro imagine#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#trafalgar law imagine#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar law#trafalgar law x you#eustass kid x reader#eustass captain kid#eustass kid#eustass kid imagine#eustass kid x you#sanji x you#sanji x reader#sanji imagine#black leg sanji#vinsmoke sanji#massacre soldier killer#killer imagine#one piece killer#killer x reader#killer x you#vinsmoke sanji x you#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji imagine
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Your Roommate Sukuna
“That Time He Sabotaged My Date”
Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ef9a9fdbc46745169ed83b9ec0dcb5ab/20a1db5ae9db8b8c-6f/s540x810/2c791662a4a3557b0c386ee51065dc371ffe5010.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/496b731a7b7f90949879aed620af66b6/20a1db5ae9db8b8c-0d/s540x810/2e3435c17088d101cfc1450e7c3072d692471d1d.jpg)
Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!
Contains: yandere(ish)!Sukuna, fluff but he’s kinda very toxic, stalking, fem implied reader (wearing a dress and heels), brief mention of a bomb (there aren’t any bombs present), narration is from Sukuna’s POV
Word Count: 1.78k
Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist
Whoever decided this dingy shithole is a decent place to take you on a date should be fucking shot.
Maybe it was wrong of Sukuna to eavesdrop on your private conversation this morning, but in his defense you were talking on the phone loud as hell in the middle of the living room. Should’ve been quieter when you were telling your friend about the date you had planned for tonight.
And maybe it’s weird that Sukuna secretly followed you here to keep an eye on you, but it’s not like he has nefarious intentions. He’s heard of this place and one, it’s fucking gross, and two, it’s got one hell of a reputation to say the least. Definitely the kind of place for someone to get murdered, he’s just watching out for your safety!
Oh christs sake, who is he fooling? No, he followed you here because he’ll be damned if you get a boyfriend.
He feels like a creep, sitting at the bar behind your table in a black hoodie and an old baseball cap, eyes fixed on the back of your head. The guy sitting across from you is so bland, yet for some reason you’re still giggling and twirling your hair around your finger as if you don’t know that you can do so much better.
There was no need for you to doll yourself up for this fuckin’ loser; you’ve got on a pretty red dress and stiletto heels, probably anticipating him to take you somewhere nice, decent, at least. But he brought you to some run down shithole restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s and is definitely bearing several health code violations. It’s honestly embarrassing, Sukuna would take you somewhere so much nicer than this, he knows what you deserve.
He’s been sitting at the bar sipping on his drink for the last half hour, watching the way you prop your elbow onto the table, cross your legs in your seat, tap your heel against the leg of your chair, listening to you laugh and chat about your job. Meanwhile, mister nobody in front of you is chewing with his mouth open like some kind of ape, not realizing how much of a privilege he has by being able to treat you to dinner. Un-fucking-believable.
Finally the moment he’s been waiting for happens. Bland And Boring stands up from his seat and leaves you at the table to go use the restroom, so now it’s time for Sukuna to get this fool away from you. His eyes follow the man as he walks past the bar, not even trying to be discreet. He gives Sukuna a quick glance and nods his head politely, making his way towards the bathrooms near the front of the restaurant.
There’s no time to waste.
Sukuna stands from his seat at the bar, trailing behind your date and following him into the bathroom. As the door clicks shut behind him he realizes that it’s just the two of them. Perfect, no interruptions.
He walks up behind the man, watching him through the large mirror above the sinks. Now that he’s up close he can really see how pathetic this guy is, nervously looking up towards Sukuna as he absolutely towers above him, his stature menacing and the look in his eyes bordering on deadly.
“D-do you need some-”
“You should leave.” Your date jumps at the sound of Sukuna’s voice; dark, deep, and serious.
“Um… why?” His eyes flicker around the room, definitely praying to whatever god he believes in to come save him.
Sukuna is surprised he isn’t immediately obeying. Has he grown soft? Surely not, this guy just needs a little extra push.
So Sukuna says the first thing that comes into mind.
“I have a bomb.”
Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but god damn does it do the trick. The guy looks like he’s about to fucking piss himself, eyes widening in terror as he quickly nods his head and runs out of the restaurant.
Sukuna keeps a keen eye on him through the windows, watching him nearly leap into his car and hearing the tires screech as he speeds out of the parking lot. It seems you also had an eye on your date, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as you assumed that he just ditched you with the bill.
Now’s his time to shine.
He stuffs his hat into the front pocket of his hoodie and strides up behind you to your table, bending down to be eye level with you in the booth and putting on his best mildly surprised and kind of amused expression, “Well look at that.”
“Ugh, god.” You bury your face into your hands, “And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”
He can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. It is his fault you’re in this situation, but I mean come on, that guy was no good for you anyway. “You sample the whole fuckin’ menu or something?”
You groan and roll your eyes, perfect, you took the bait, “I just got dine and dashed, asshole.”
Sukuna lets out a laugh as he flops down into the seat across from you, god if only you knew. A man would have to be a real idiot to stand you up, but he has to try and keep his act together, “Yeah? Guys are fuckin’ assholes, surprise.”
The pout on your face is too sweet, makes it hard for him to really feel bad, “I was really liking him too.”
Oh, he definitely doesn’t feel bad now. He pulls his card out of his wallet as the waitress approaches the table, handing it off to her nonchalantly as he continues the conversation, “Don’t know why you bother going on dates with these guys.”
You try to interject the waitress but she walks away before you can stop her, a defeated frown pulling down your lips, “What are you doing here anyway?”
He plops his elbow onto the table, shrugging his shoulders casually, “What? Am I not allowed to go to my favorite shitty restaurant?”
You perk up slightly, “Right? I saw a roach on the way in, I can’t believe he recommended this place.”
The waitress comes back and hands Sukuna his card, he quickly scribbles his signature on the receipt and stands from his seat at the booth, “Let’s get you out of here before you get ringworm or some shit, nasty fuckin’ place.”
Finally a smile creeps onto your face, lighting up the dreary atmosphere. You adjust your dress as you stand up and he can’t help but smirk at how good you look all dolled up, dark red dress hugging your figure as if you wore it for him. He leads you out of the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open for you since he noticed that your loser date let it slam in your face on your way in.
Droplets of rain were starting to sprinkle down, which is pretty unlucky considering it’s a ten minute walk back to the apartment. But that’s not a problem for Sukuna, if anything it’s a perfect opportunity. He catches the frown curling down your pouty lips as you fix your fingers through your nicely styled hair, probably trying to keep it from getting messed up, and without missing a beat he pulls his hoodie off, sliding it over your head and down your arms.
“I’m sure you spent hours dolling yourself up, would hate to ruin it.” His voice is smooth as butter, leaning down to eye level with you as he adjusts the hood to make sure your hair is covered.
A blush creeps onto your face, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” as you pull your arms through the sleeves. It honestly looks like you’re drowning in his massive hoodie, the sleeves too long for your arms that your fingers can’t even peek out and the hem at the bottom falling at your upper thighs.
Sukuna thought you looked good in that red dress, but god damn you look heavenly wearing his clothes. Why didn’t he do this sooner?
You both start to walk down the sidewalk to the apartment, the evening is quiet save for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the bars and restaurants that you pass by. You’re walking right up against his side, your arm occasionally brushing against his and he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting closer on purpose.
Sukuna breaks the peaceful silence, “So was the food good at least?”
You look up towards him quizzically, squinting your eyes in a way that’s too fucking cute for him to handle, “Shouldn’t you be the expert?”
“Why t’fuck would I know? Never been there.”
“I thought that was your favorite shitty restaurant?”
Oops.
He got way too distracted looking into your pretty eyes. Lucky for him, he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to cover him because a loud snap rings through the air as you stumble forward. His arm quickly wraps around your waist to steady you before you can fall, holding you flush against him.
You look down at your feet and let out a loud groan of frustration, “Fucks sake, really?” You lift your foot up to inspect your shoe, your stiletto heel barely dangling by a thread as it snapped off from the sole.
Sukuna didn’t mean to laugh, but there was no containing it. You look up at him with an adorable angry face, cheeks burning red as you curse him out and it only makes him smile more. You’re just too damn cute when you’re pissed off.
“It’s not funny! These were expensive!”
“Yeah yeah, c’mere.” His arm stays wrapped around your waist as he leans down and hooks his other arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease as you squeal in surprise and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.
Now he could bet that other guy wouldn’t do this for you, not just was he scrawny as all hell but he wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gentleman. Your arms tighten around the back of Sukuna’s neck as he starts walking to the apartment again, your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder as you slowly relax into his hold. He’s actually liking this a lot, silently considering purposely taking a wrong turn on the way home so he can hold you longer.
Hopefully after this you’ll stop going on stupid dates with worthless men, you’ve already got everything you could ever want right at home after all. Soon enough you’ll realize that you don’t need anyone but him.
A/N: This was SO FUN to write!! I love him he’s such an asshole askakksksk, I rlly liked the idea of doing a light hearted yandere part (even tho NOBODY asked for this skaksksk) Dividers by @adornedwithlight
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#once again I am writing Sukuna pov and I am NOT sorry about it#I think every time I write his POV I make him crazier askskams#my writing#nav ryomen sukuna#roommate Sukuna au#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#Sukuna#ryomen sukuna#Sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#jjk modern au
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king teatime — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: sukuna forced into playtime with daughter LETS GO
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your daughter, a bundle of energy and enthusiasm, is setting up her tea party on the coffee table, her tiny hands arranging an assortment of plastic cups and saucers with meticulousness.
from where you’re seated nearby, you watch the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and affection.
your daughter babbles on, her high-pitched voice bubbling with excitement as she fills the cups with imaginary tea and hands them out with exaggerated ceremony.
sukuna, while visibly disinterested, maintains his position with a begrudging tolerance. his gaze flickers occasionally towards you, perhaps a threat that you roped him into this.
you chuckle and shrug your shoulders, “papa duties, my dear husband.”
he is about to retort, but your daughter interrupts him.
“papa, you have to drink your tea!” your daughter insists, her big eyes shining with earnestness as she thrusts a cup towards him.
sukuna raises an eyebrow, glancing down at the flimsy plastic cup with a look of mild distaste. “right. and what exactly is this supposed to be?”
“it’s tea!” she replies, her voice tinged with a note of exasperation, as if the answer should be obvious. “you have to pretend it’s delicious.”
sukuna’s eyes twitch at the command, but he swallows his protests for the time being. he takes the cup with a practiced air of detachment, bringing it to his lips and pretending to sip.
his gaze shifts to you, catching your eye with a hint of reluctant amusement. you offer him a playful wink in return, enjoying his silent struggle.
“is it good?” your daughter asks, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation.
“splendid,” sukuna replies deadpan, placing the cup back on the table with a precise motion.
she seems to take his words at face value, her face lighting up with a proud smile. “I’m glad! here, have some more!”
as she continues her animated chatter, sukuna’s attention wanders back to you. his eyes hold a crap ton of exasperation. you suppress a laugh. sukuna sends you a little look, and you instantly go quiet.
“brat, can’t you let uraume play instead of me?” sukuna mutters under his breath.
your daughter’s head whips around, her face instantly clouding with indignation. “no! uraume is not my papa! you’re my papa, and I wanna play with you! not anyone else!”
sukuna’s expression remains unchanged, but you can see the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. his eyes meet yours again, and this time, there’s a hint of reluctant acceptance in his gaze.
he doesn’t say anything.
you grin, thoroughly entertained by the interaction. “looks like you’re stuck with tea time, honey,” you tease lightly, your tone affectionate.
he narrows his eyes slightly, “I see that.”
your daughter, undeterred, continues to pour imaginary tea, occasionally placing a cup in front of sukuna with a flourish.
“more tea, papa!” she demands with a commanding tone that leaves no room for argument.
sukuna accepts the cup with a resigned sigh, lifting it to his lips and pretending to sip again. “how can I refuse such a generous offer?” his voice is dry, but nonetheless, he indulges her, even if in the tiniest bits.
your daughter beams, and she clicks her cup against his before drinking her tea—very dramatically. your husband places the cup on the table, seemingly have had enough.
your daughter looks at you proudly and declares, “papa has become very good at teatime!”
“right?” you agree, “as expected of the king of curses.”
“do not mock me,” he grumbles, standing up and dusting his clothes. he folds his four arms against his chest. he looks down at your daughter, “that is enough.”
she pouts for a second before smiling mischievously, “papa, how about you wear a skirt?”
“how about I chase you and eat you for dinner today?”
your daughter shrieks and runs out of the room, laughing. she got used to her dad’s empty threats—much like you did—but he still is pretty scary.
you watch her dash out the room before bursting into laughter, “that—” you wheeze, “that was the best entertainment of my entire life, oh god!”
a large shadow looms over your figure, and you cover your mouth. small giggles escape your lips, as you lock eyes with your husband. a scowl is ever-present on his face, and he continues observing you.
he cocks an eyebrow, “looks like you’re having fun?”
you purse your lips and rapidly shake your head. he lets out a breath, obviously unconvinced, “I have been too lenient with you two.”
“we love you too, honey!”
he clicks his tongue in annoyance, but the hand that ruffles your hair speaks a whole different story.
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