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eupheme · 5 months ago

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k02. accidental stim + thigh-riding | just once

frank castle x f!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: hurt/comfort, references to blood/violence, wound-tending, strangers-to-lovers, implied mutual pining, accident stimulation, thigh-riding, oral sex (m rec), reader has hair long enough to tug, swallowing

You know you shouldn’t look for the handsome stranger that shows up, night after night. Should lock your window, forget you saw him. That’s the smart thing to do, after all.

But you think you might like that he needs you. That you can’t stop thinking about him. That you can’t stop wanting more.

It’s interesting how quickly you’ve become used to finding a strange man on your fire escape.

The first time it happened, it had scared you near to death. A dark smudge in the shadows, when you went to close the blinds before bed.

A sharp jab of fear, realizing there was a body propped up against the railing. Phone in hand, fingers hovering on Wade’s contact when you saw the streaks of red against pale skin.

Still not sure how you got him inside. Spent an hour afterwards scrubbing the traces of him from your windowsill. Smeared fingerprints, the scuff of boots against your floor.

Half-conscious. Blood oozing out from a wound at his temple. A clean washcloth from your bathroom pressed to it, as you started to call for help.

The stranger moved then. A broad hand curled around your wrist. Head tipping back, and you could see those brown eyes from beneath the hood.

“No cops.” He croaked, “No hospitals. ‘m fine.”

You had patched him up the best you could. The urge to help outweighing the ringing stranger danger in your head. A little soothed knowing help was next door.

The night spent awake, watching.

He thanked you the next day. Apologized.

It was in the early morning light that you finally got a good look at him, that dark hood pulled back. Handsome face, quiffed hair, pretty lips beneath the curve of his nose.

Broad, when he stands. Slipping back out the way he came. A devil at night, gentleman in the morning - even with his rough edges.

Thought it’d be the last time you saw him.

You were wrong.

That one night turns into another. Something almost like a routine, except for his timing. Twice a week and then nothing for more. Three weekends in a row, and then silence for a month.

On the second night, the stranger tells you his name is Frank.

On another night, some two weeks later, he tells you that your apartment is the only one within two blocks he can reach from the ground. Only stopped because your window was cracked open. Knew you were home.

Could smell the blend of vanilla and sugar from there. Seemed like a safe place to rest, until he could make it back home.

It should deter you.

It doesn’t.

He’s as layered as the clothes he wears. All dark - black field jacket. The splatter of white, some sort of pattern on the shirt beneath another zip-up.

And red.

Always red. Red dripping from his nose. Bruised shadows beneath an eye. Split knuckles, his hand resting against your knee as you yawn - binding them carefully.

Tucked on your couch to sleep a couple hours, gone by the time you’re leaving for work. Midnight breakfasts that always ends in a “thanks, sweetheart” that leaves you pretending that there isn’t a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your chest.

Never tells you what he does. Never lets you in, other than the slip of his last name.

Castle.

It fits him. Something as strong and formidable as he is, with the furrow of his brow. The grit of his jaw, when your needle pierces flesh.

Never complaining. Content to take what you give him. A wary eye when you pick at those layers, a fingernail digging under a chip of paint.

Always seems to be gone longer, after you do.

The last time he was here, you hadn’t seen him for three weeks. Waiting for a tap on the glass that didn’t come.

Only for your window to creak open, barely heard under the rumble of the storm overhead. Some time long after midnight, closer to dawn.

You knew it was him, in your sleepy haze. Knew the sound of his boots as well as your own. The soft rasp of your name, as you propped yourself up.

The worry quickly tempered, when he crouched to your level.

“One hell of a storm,” Frank rasped, “Just need a place to wait it out.”

The relief has sleep pulling you back under. A muttered “no boots in bed”, as you yawn, followed by a “or wet clothes.”

You don’t think you would have said it, if you were awake. It felt like a dream - something made up. Wishing he would come back to you and then he was.

A low huff. Layers peeled off, as the mattress dips.

In the morning, he’s gone.

You’d think it was a dream, if your pillow didn’t smell like him. If the bed wasn’t still warm where he lay - if you could shake the feeling of his breath in your ear, an arm slung around your waist in the night.

It had felt like something had changed.

That was, until now.

Now, your brow furrows. Blood beneath your nails from where you helped ease the vest from his chest.

His hand covering yours, stilling the shake as you gripped the straps. Your little huff of relief when it’s only bruises and scrapes that bloom beneath, instead of the scattering of fired bullets.

Now, they rests on your hips, as you stand between his spread thighs. His chest bare under the warm light of your bathroom - mottled in bruises but it doesn’t take away the breadth of him. The etched muscles that bunch and flex beneath your fingertips.

Something you’re achingly aware of. Something you’re desperately trying not to think of, as you dab antiseptic around the edge of an abrasion.

His eyes are fixed on yours, even as you concentrate.

It’s something you discovered about him quickly. Frank doesn’t shy away from eye contact. Content to keep his on you, even as you work. Skin heating from beneath his watch.

Could just be him. His work is something dangerous, he never needs to tell you for you to know that. And from the splinters you’ve pieced together, you don’t see him as a bad guy. Or at least - he doesn’t see himself that way.

But a part of you wonders if he watches because he wants to. Something greedy. Unblinking - taking you in like you wish he would.

“You’re lucky,” You muse, thumb smoothing over the bandage, “Think this is the least banged up you’ve been.”

“Lucky.” He huffs, “Suppose you could say that.”

The roll of medical tape clatters against the sink, before slipping down into the bowl. His fingers biting into your hips as you lean to grab it, shifting into his space.

“Careful.” It’s a low warning, rumbled out, “Makin’ it real hard to keep my hands to myself, sweetheart.”

Only then do you notice how much you’ve leaned into him. Your thigh pinned firmly against his spread one. A hand on his shoulder for balance, your tits pressed against his bare chest.

You shift back, but it only makes his hands grip harder. His eyes dark, under the glow of the bulb above - making you feel like you took a blow, yourself.

“Don’t have to,” You manage, “Keep them to yourself, I mean.”

There’s a sharp, inhaled breath. His eyes flicking between yours, as a mark deepens between his brows.

“Wouldn’t be right.” It’s gritted out, “This is your home-”

Your heart hammers behind your ribs, as the hand at his shoulder slips to his neck, “I know. I-, I wouldn’t let you in if I didn’t-”

“Trust me?” Frank laughs, the sound hollow, “Sweetheart-”

The word dies on his tongue, with the sudden slam of a door in the hall - ringing out like a gunshot. A loud voice followed by the pounding of footsteps up the stairs, as you are suddenly crushed against Frank’s chest.

His palm slipping over your mouth, as he shoots to his feet. Crowding you against the bathroom door, shushing your muffled yelp.

You can feel every inch of him pressed against you. Breath held as he leans into you, a thigh nudged snugly between yours. Hands flattened against his chest. Unyielding, as you give a little shove.

Something hard curving against your hip. A rough sound in his throat when you squirm against him again - the words trapped behind his hand.

“Fucking stop,” He growls in your ear, “Someone is out there-“

Your shove turns soft. Stroking up his chest until you’re touching at his jaw. Angling his face to meet yours.

His eyes are wild, nearly black. Deadly focused - their sharp edge flicking down to yours. A beat as he considers, when you point to your mouth.

“It’s my neighbor,” You manage with a gasp, when his grip loosens, “He tries to see how fast he can run up every single stair. Drives us all crazy.”

He goes still. Eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out if he believes you.

You know what he thought.

Might now know a lot about him, but you could sense the danger he thought you were in. Instincts kicking in, as he believes whatever horrors he faced out there were brought back here.

“It’s okay.” You soothe, “You’re safe.”

His nostrils flare, jaw gritting. Fingers fisting in the fabric of your sleep shirt, knuckles biting into your hips.

“Distract me.” He husks, voice low.

Your eyes widen, “How?”

There’s a sharp jerk of his head, his own dark eyes still fixed on yours, “Any way you want.”

He’s still as stone as your eyes sweep across his face again. A million thoughts running through your head, as your thumb sweeps across a stubble-lined jaw.

Head tilting, until you can press your lips just above, against the sharp cut of a cheekbone.

You can feel his exhale against you. The tightly-strung muscles easing, even as he tugs you closer. Even as you hear the hitch in his breath, the way his head tips towards yours.

You move slow.

The next brushing his cheek.

Another, to the corner of his lips.

It’s then that he moves. A rough groan in his throat as his hand shifts to your chin. Holding you in place so his mouth can meet yours.

Something chaste, that turns hungry. His hips canting into yours, as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

You let him. Fingers slipping against the short, velvet-shorn hair. Up until there’s something to grip onto, as his hips rocks against yours.

“Fuck.” It’s rumbled against your lips, “Been driving me crazy, sweetheart.”

You moan, as his lips drag to press against your jaw. How his thigh rocks against your core, where you’re still pinned between him and the door.

“Haven’t been doing anything,” You protest, weakly, “Just patching you up.”

There’s the rough huff of a laugh.

“Funny how that works.”

There’s the pounding of your heart, just below his lips. Fingers that trace the waistband of your sleep shorts. Slipping beneath your shirt to grasp at your waist.

Tugging, until you’re rubbing yourself on his thigh. The muscles flexing beneath you as you gasp, nails biting into his bare shoulders.

Trying to avoid the bruises, his skin hot to the touch. Another roll - again and again. A rough grunt each time you press flush, when the imprint of his cock ruts against your hip.

The seam on your shorts catch on your clit. Your breath quickens, as your arousal dampens the thin cloth. A dark patch seeping into the dark denim, but Frank only groans when his eyes flick down to see the gleam.

“Feels good.” You breathe, eyes half-lidded.

His teeth flash white, in the dark room. Pressing harder, until you’re whimpering. Until there’s a building pressure in your belly, toes curling against the worn rug.

“Frank.” It’s a plea, it’s a warning.

“Yeah, beautiful?” His knowing tone, the sweet name sends heat to your cheeks, “You close? Think you can come for me like this?”

You don’t know if you can. All you know is the feeling of his thigh nudging against you, as his boot bounces. The rasp of his stubbled cheek against yours.

“Think you can.” Frank hums, “Think you want me to hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

His name strings out. Fingers teasing, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. A rough moan in your ear when he meets bare, slick skin.

Another pulled when your own hand drifts. A palm cupping him, where his clothed cock ruts into your hip. The heel of your hand nudging with the flex of his thigh.

Again, and again. Sweet nothings slipping from you, a heady mix of his name and “please” and “oh my god-”, as your head tips back.

His mouth against your neck, your chin, your mouth. Your cry cut short as his body presses you flush between him and the door.

Fingers slipping down. Beneath the dampened fabric, circles pressed against your clit. Wanting to do this himself, to give this to you.

The pleasure blooms low in your belly. Liquid heat and the release of what feels like weeks of building pressure coursing through you, as he brings you over the edge.

Your orgasm pulsing low and warm, as your hands find his shoulders. Adding fingerprint bruises to one’s he already carries. Ones he’ll look at fondly, when he’s alone.

Frank’s knee only eases from you, when that tight grip on him finally loosens.

The aftershocks still honey-sweet where they thud in your core. Legs like jelly, as your back slips against the door - as you sink to your knees.

You want all of him.

You’re greedy like that - fingers itching to reach out and take. To beg, but your eyes are drawn the bruises. The shadows under his eyes, you don’t know the last time he slept.

There will be more time, later. If you’re lucky.

“Hey. Hey-” His voice is almost worried, broad hands wrapping around your biceps. The words twisting into a choked sound instead, when your hands trace up his thighs. Over the slick patch, darkening the denim.

Eye-level with his hips. Your gaze meeting his, as you press an open-mouthed kiss against the straining curve.

He groans then. Bare chest heaving, as his hands drop to his belt. No words needed, in sync from the nights already spent together - from patching him up in near-silence.

Thumbs hooking into the waistband of dark boxers, tugging down. Your eyes tracing where the dark trail from his belly thickens, hair coarse at the base of his cock.

“Don’t have to.” It’s half-hearted. A tick to his jaw, when your fingers join his.

Another sharp tug, until his cock is freed. Achingly hard, as it bobs in front of you. A pretty shade of pink that grows darker at the tip. A drop leaking from the slit, the head already glossy from where it smeared against fabric.

God, you need to taste him.

“I know.” You breathe, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grin, “I want to.”

Leaning forward to taste him. A kiss against the shaft, tongue flattening against velvet skin.

“Wanna take care of you.”

His fingers flex, curling into fists.

Your eyes meeting his, “Think you like it when I do.”

Frank stiffens at your words, a sharp inhale through teeth. But you miss it - lips parting to take him into your mouth. A moan as you suck, feeling how his cock jerks against your tongue.

“Fuck.” He grits - the flex of his hand, as he cups the back of your neck. Fingers twining into your hair, tugging.

“Just once.”

Don’t know if he’s telling you, or if he’s telling himself. But he doesn’t need to tell you.

There’s a part of you is certain each time is the last you’ll see him.

Always hoping he will come back, of course. Looking for him, even.

But never expecting it.

You’ll take what you can get. What he gives you inching further into your mouth - the hollow of your cheeks as you suck, head gently bobbing.

He’s big. You knew he would be, could feel the heft of him beneath your palm. An ache in your jaw already, but it’s worth it - to give him this.

“Just this one time.” He repeats, hushed.

As if he’s not imaging how you taste. Knowing you’re slick and bare and dripping beneath those shorts. Knowing that’s the only layer he’d need to rip away, to find out how soft you truly are.

Wet and warm, for him. A perfect fit for his cock, though he can’t get enough of the way you hum around him.

Forgotten what it was like.

Spit strings between your lips and his cock, when you pull back. He lets you - that grip loosening, though his fingers stay twisted in your hair. Keeping you close, only slipping away long enough for you to tug the shirt from your shoulders.

Letting it pool on the floor, letting his eyes drag over more bare skin beneath. His touch following without thinking - calloused fingers tracing your shoulders. The soft curves of your tits, palm cupping flesh.

The other hand anchoring himself to you again as before. The curved weight against the back of your head - a gentle, encouraging pressure.

Urging you to his cock again. Already missing the warmth of your mouth. Working him back up to that peak again, and then further - as you take him into your throat.

His breathing grows shorter. Those same sounds that slip from him when your needle sinks too deep, knitting skin together.

Given freely now. Muscles flexing as he bucks into your mouth, chasing the pleasure that threatens to snap inside him.

“Shit, baby.” Frank rasps, “You want me to come on these?”

A squeeze against your chest. You make a low sound in your throat, in response. Eyes flicking up, sinking another inch deeper as your fingers grasp onto his jeans.

“Fuck.” The syllables draw out, “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

His fingers tug harder. The flicker of pain along your scalp blending with the heat that lingers between your thighs.

Keeping your eyes on his as his hips move just a little faster. Air inhaled through your nose as a hand slips up to curl around his base.

Easing off just enough that you can jerk him into your mouth.

Your name comes out ragged, slipped into a moan. A curl of his lips over teeth, panting breath.

“Gonna make me come, honey.” It’s a warning, but your tongue only curls around the head. Waiting to taste him fully, as he groans.

Another choked breath, his head tilting back, before his cock throbs between your lips. Pulsing against your tongue, as your fist works him empty.

Your eyes close then. Senses narrowing down to the sounds he makes. Filthy, as his fingers tug hard enough to hurt, unconsciously rocking into the suction of your mouth with each drop that spills against your tongue.

“Fuck.” He mutters again.

Softer, this time. Fingers suddenly dropping, shifting to smooth over your cheeks. A low hiss, when you ease off him - only for your head to dip forward again. To catch the last errant drop on your tongue, as it flicks against his slit.

Desperate to keep him, like this, for just a little longer. Yours, if only for a moment.

“You wanna stay? Can make you a real breakfast.”

It slips from you, from kiss-swollen lips as your head tips up. His boxers still a mess around his thighs, your fingers still circled around him.

You’d taste like him, if he bent down to kiss you.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Frank rasps.

“I will.”

perhaps my imagining of a potential sugar x frank meet-cute??? 😁💖 thank you for reading!!

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #kinktober #kintober 2024

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

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TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish

gn reader

“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.

“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.

Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.

Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”

He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy.

You think you might pass out.

“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.

You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.

“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.

Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”

“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”

You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.

“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.

“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”

He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.

“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”

He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.

“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”

“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”

There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.

“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.

He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.

“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”

You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.

“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stop a sob.

“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”

He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.

You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-”

“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”

He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.

He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.

“I think thirty is fair.”

“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.

“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”

At least he doesn’t make you count....

You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.

Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.

He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead.

“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~” He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.

He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.

His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”

You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting.

He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”

The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.

He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.

He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance.

A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.

He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.

“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Miya twins, Suna ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Isagi, Kunigami ♡ DS – Doma, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere bakugo #yandere kirishima #yandere dabi #yandere hawks #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere jjk #yandere haikyuu #yandere toji #yandere nanami #yandere geto #yandere demon slayer #yandere blue lock #yandere csm

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satellite-evans · 11 days ago

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having my baby

a/n : a cute little blurb enjoy <3

warnings : fluff, pregnancy complications

The bedroom carried the comforting scent of vanilla and freshly laundered linen, while the lights draped along the headboard cast subtle shadows along the walls. Outside, the gentle drizzle of rain tapped softly against the window, creating a tranquil symphony.

Harry sat at the foot of the bed, his green eyes clouded with concern as he watched his wife shift slightly, struggling to find a more comfortable position against the mountain of pillows he had stacked behind her. His fingers itched to do something—to ease her discomfort, to make this experience less frustrating for her.

“Alright, love?” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She sighed, a mix of exhaustion and fondness. “As alright as I can be when my feet look like marshmallows and our baby is apparently training for the Olympics in my belly.”

Harry chuckled softly, though his brows furrowed as he took in her tired expression. “I wish I could do more,” he admitted, his voice laced with guilt.

She reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re already doing everything, H.”

Still, it didn’t feel like enough. He had been fussing over her endlessly since the doctor had placed her on bed rest due to complications. And while she loved him for it, she also felt restless, frustrated that she could do nothing but sit in bed while the world continued on without her.

Determined to lift her spirits, Harry suddenly disappeared, only to return moments later with an armful of things—a book, a puzzle, snacks, and the remote.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Harry…”

“I figured if you can’t get out of bed to do things, I’d bring everything to you.” He grinned, setting them all on the mattress beside her.

She let out a small groan, rolling her eyes. “Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. “But I want to. You hate being stuck in bed, and I just want to make it a little more bearable.”

Despite her annoyance at the situation, her heart softened. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he said with a wink before picking up the remote. “How about we just watch our favorite movie instead?”

She sighed, nodding. “Fine. But I get to pick.”

Harry smirked, already knowing what she would choose. As the opening credits rolled, he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her as he placed small, featherlight kisses along her neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, lips brushing just below her ear. His other hand rested gently on her belly, his thumb tracing soothing circles. “And you, little one,” he whispered to the baby, “you’re giving your mum a hard time, aren’t you? Be kind to her, yeah?”

She chuckled, her fingers lacing with his over her belly. “I think they take after you—already dramatic.”

Harry gasped in mock offense. “Me? Dramatic? Never.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she leaned into him. “I love you, you know.”

He pressed another kiss to her temple. “I love you more.”

A comfortable silence settled over them as the movie played in the background, but Harry could feel the tension still lingering in her body. He adjusted their position slightly, rubbing slow, deliberate circles on her back. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he urged softly. “What’s on your mind?”

She sighed again, shifting against him. “It’s just… hard. I hate feeling helpless. I want to do things, move around, prepare for the baby. But I can’t. And I know I have to rest for their sake, but it’s just—” she huffed, frustration evident in her voice. “I feel stuck.”

Harry pressed another kiss against her temple, his voice soothing. “I know, love. I wish I could change it for you. But you’re not alone in this, yeah? We’re in it together.”

She turned her head slightly to look at him. “Even if I’m moody and frustrated all the time?”

He grinned. “Especially then.”

She laughed softly, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’re too good to me.”

“Nah,” he murmured, tracing soft patterns on her belly. “Just head over heels in love with you.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other. Then Harry whispered, his voice filled with warmth, “You know, I can’t wait to meet them. To see if they have your nose, your smile…”

She smiled, placing her hand over his. “I think they’ll have your dimples.”

“Oh, absolutely,” he agreed with a playful smirk. “And your stubbornness.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re in trouble, then.”

Harry chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “The best kind of trouble.”

And as the rain continued to patter against the window, they stayed wrapped up in each other, finding comfort in the love they had built, waiting for the little one who would soon make them a family of three.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x wife!reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #dad!harry #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fic rec #fic rec

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blvdheart · 8 months ago

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last minute remedy

di leon kennedy x fem!reader

basically, he just fucks you to sleep upon request

note: just a little something to ease my insomnia :3 definitely wanna write about him with a hybrid!reader when i can dedicate more time to writing something long and thought out yipee

leon could never deny you anything. you were his pretty princess. how could he not give in whenever you flashed him a pout and that puppy-dog look of yours that you had perfected to a tee? others would call you spoiled, but whatever you wanted, leon happily gave.

so when you woke him up in the middle of the night with a whisper of his name, a few taps on his shoulder, your cute eyes all wide and expectant as you asked him to fuck you to sleep, he caved pretty quickly.

poor thing, he knew you struggled with falling asleep.

it didn’t take long for his cock to get hard, just the sight of your hand pawing at his boxers was enough to get all his blood rushing south. not to mention the way you pulled your panties off and bunched the fabric of your nightgown up to your hips out of desperation.

fuck. you were so pretty.

that’s how he got here, settled on top of you with his hips nestled between your thighs and your calves lazily crossed over his torso. he’s slow with his movements, letting every inch of his cock fill your needy cunt before pulling out to rub his precum dribbling tip against your clit, and then burying himself back in.

he goes so deep it has your eyes brimming with feel-good tears, and they roll down your cheeks when you shut your eyes.

“yeah, just close your eyes and feel me. don’t gotta worry about a thing, sweet girl.”

he leans down to kiss away your tears, the salty taste of them having become oh so dearly familiar from past moments where you sat on his lap and sobbed your eyes out. or in intimate settings like these where all the pleasurable shocks going through your body had you tearing up.

what a crybaby, he loved it.

who needs a heavy blanket to keep the coldness away when your boyfriend’s body exudes enough heat to keep you all warm and cozy? his body drapes over yours so perfectly.

he knows when you’re close, you don’t even gotta tell him. he feels you squeezing like a vice and he has to resist the urge to creampie you right then and there.

he takes a deep breath, propping himself up on one of his forearms. he’s not getting any younger and he can’t hold back for as long, not when he has a cutie like you under him. he has to make you finish before he spills. his other hand gives one of your tits a gentle squeeze before lowering so the pad of his thumb can circle your swollen clit. his thumb slipped a bit, that’s how soaked you were.

“shh, that’s it…i’ve got you.” he rasps as he presses a kiss against your temple. “just like princess. doing so well for me. you’re gonna dream of me after this, yeah?”

his voice is like a lull, blending in perfectly with the soft sound of your uneven breathing. if you weren’t so damn sleepy, you would’ve been embarrassed by how wet you were, the squelching sounds echoing through the quiet room.

your legs weakly squeeze him, your fingers digging into the sheets, soft and shaky breaths spilling from your lips with sleepy murmurs of his name. “leon, leon, leon…”

no more need to buy gummies and other medications that put you at the risk of getting nightmares. not when leon is more than willing to soothe you by stuffing his dick inside you whenever you ask him to.

it doesn’t even matter that he didn’t shoot a load, just knowing that you were able to go to drift off to dreamland is enough for him.

he gently cleans you up with a warmly washed towel and then freshens up as well before placing a kiss on your forehead as he tucks you in and then slides right next to you, keeping you safe by his side.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader

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beloveds-embrace · 12 days ago

Note

Harpy!reader with an executive dysfunction that makes it difficult for her to preen her wings, so the boys always take the time to help her with it :)

The nest shifts slightly under you, softened by layers of pilfered jackets and blankets, the scent of your mates woven into every thread. You’re curled up tight, wings drawn in, feathers ruffled and unkempt. It’s been days since you last preened properly, and you know it’s getting bad- the tangles, the way some feathers are misaligned, the uncomfortable itch that you’ve ignored for too long.

You mean to fix it. Really, you do. But every time you think about starting, your brain stalls, reminded of the way your body is unable to do such a basic thing. The steps feel impossible, the effort insurmountable. It’s easier to tuck your wings in and pretend it’s fine and you can’t feel the messy feathers and debris.

A soft thump against the edge of the nest pulls you from your thoughts, and you barely have time to glance up before Johnny is hopping closer, his talons clicking against the frame. He chirps as he lands, head tilting as he takes in the state of you.

“Ach, love,” he murmurs, voice slipping into something softer, fonder. His clawed fingers ghost along the edge of your wing, parting the disheveled feathers. “Y’haven’t preened, have you?”

You grumble, the sound low in your throat, shifting just enough that your wing twitches away from him. He only clicks his tongue in return, unfazed.

Another set of wings sweeps overhead before Kyle lands with a flutter of bright feathers. He ruffles them once before settling beside you, his warmth a familiar comfort. “You were muttering about it last night,” he says, nudging your side with his own. “Knew you weren’t gonna do it.”

There’s no teasing in his voice, just easy understanding.

Then the nest shakes slightly as John lands behind you, heavier than the others, broad wings folding around the group like a windbreak. He hums, a low, soothing sound, before dipping his head to press a kiss against your temple. “Come on, love,” he murmurs. “Let us take care of you.”

You let out a small, reluctant trill, but you don’t stop them.

Simon is the last to settle in, silent as ever, though his presence is grounding as he kneels beside you. He doesn’t speak, just starts smoothing through your covert feathers with slow, careful movements. His claws are deft, undoing tangles and realigning what’s been neglected.

Johnny busies himself with your primaries, crooning softly as he straightens and fluffs, while Kyle works through the downy feathers along your back, his touches gentle, methodical. John takes the worst of the mess, hands solid and reassuring as he grooms with slow, practiced care.

Soft sounds fill the nest- trills and chirps, murmured reassurances, the rustle of feathers being smoothed into place. It’s warm, safe, and bit by bit, the tension in your body melts away.

By the time they’re done, your wings are sleek once more, the discomfort gone, replaced by a drowsy sort of contentment. You let out a quiet chirp, nuzzling into the nearest warmth- Kyle, maybe, or Johnny- feeling the press of their bodies around you, the steady hum of your beloved flock.

And they chirp back in return, holding you all the more closer.

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servicpop · 4 days ago

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flowers for a little someone ♡ valentines special callahan ( detective oc ) x bttm m reader

NSFW⠀ⓘ⠀you're on house arrest but in his house , alastair (oc) mention , choking , degradation , phone call interruption , i wanted to make this freaky for valentines . . . so slightly cringey

Walking into his office on Valentines day was like if a mortuary celebrated Halloween; completely out of place for what they did. Red banners were haphazardly thrown over the walls and windows. The decorations had little to no cohesion, just oddly placed in the hopes it represented Valentines enough for people to notice and move on.

Callahan pushed through and ducked underneath ribbons and lace dangling from the ceiling to get to his office. It was a reserved space just for him—previously a small library room—in an attempt to persuade him to stay with the agency.

Sinking down on his slightly worn office chair, Callahan sighed, circling his temples with his index finger as he tried to soothe the oncoming headache. Seeing all the hearts and blindingly vibrant decorations made his head reel more than it already was. Red was a harsh, headache-inducing color, though he didn't particularly mind the soft pink elements of the cupid posters and occasional lace.

Before he could get up to brew himself a morning cup of black coffee, three sharp knocks were delivered to the door of his office. Callahan didn't even move and the man was already walking inside.

“Flowers for you sir,” A man with platinum dyed hair with a dark undercut and silver rimmed glasses chimed in with a bundle of roses in his right arm. He pushed his glasses up his nose bridge before striding over to Callahan's table and placing them down on the wood.

“From who...?” Callahan eyed the officer with a narrowed look.

“Not sure. A blonde lady if I saw correctly,” Alastair shrugged, reaching over to flip the card attached to the bouquet towards Callahan's prying eyes. It had a woman he's never heard the name of before neatly scribbled on it.

“Right,” Callahan curtly nodded, glaring down at the bunch of roses carefully placed together by a commissioned florist. The petals had a sultry red color, encased with black paper to deepen the natural tint of the flower. Tulips would've been better, or perhaps peonies in a gentle pastel.

“It's fitting,” Alastair smiles, “It's all dark and brooding—just like you.” He's waving his hands around like he's physically picturing and comparing Callahan with the roses. When he doesn't reply, Alastair flashes a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck as he speaks up for the silence, “No? Too much? Okay.” He backs up to the door and slips out without further conversation.

Callahan stares back down at the flowers; he had no use for it, though one thought stopped him from chucking the roses out into the trash.

Walking out of his office, he spotted Alastair again, casually chatting with a co-worker of his with a cup of milky coffee in his palms. With everyone in the building, Alastair was the one man who would drop his work in a futile attempt to impress his superior. And Callahan planned to use that.

“I'm taking my break early today, if anyone needs me, don't call; I won't pick up.”

Callahan had to brace himself for a second, pushing the door of his home open before scanning the open area for any signs of the little thief he had locked down in house arrest. He found you calmly nestled within the fortress of the pillows and blankets you'd pulled from his closets, on the couch with a cheesy 2000's Valentines movie playing.

He had to suppress the urge to call out 'I'm home,' since it was instinct to do so when someone else was home. You weren't meant to be his roommate let alone a friend. You were a criminal he'd swore to keep his eyes on.

His footsteps were heavy—a sign that he had come home if you couldn't hear the door unlock—as he loomed over the back of the couch, staring down at the crown of your head.

“Enjoy.” He tossed the bouquet of roses onto your blanketed lap carelessly, watching as you bring it up into your hands to get a better look at it. There's a strange feeling in his gut seeing you appreciate something he's brought home, like a cat hauling a dead rat onto its owner's porch. He'd only play it off as accomplishment to giving something a better use. Nothing more than that.

“It's pretty.” He can hear the smile in your voice and it pushes him to roll his eyes. “Thought you didn't like red roses though.” You tilt your head back to look at him, but you're met with narrowed eyes and a slight scowl to his face.

“I don't. That's why I gave them to you,” he scoffed, circling the couch before taking a seat a few pillows away from you.

“Why'd you come home so early?” You turn your attention away from the movie to him, gauging his reaction.

The question struck him like lightning, and his whole body tensed up. There was no other reason why he came home early than to give you the flowers, to see your facial expression change from the most insignificant gesture—in his eyes.

“You ask too many questions, brat,” He sighed, relaxing his body into the comfort of the couch as he spread his arms across the back, just shy of reaching you. His gaze is fixed straight before a slight rustling catches his attention.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see you look up at him, then back down to the roses, then back up again to flutter your eyelashes. His eyebrows knit together as he tries to decipher your looks before it dawns on him.

“Fuck, fine, I'll let it slide just 'cause its Valentines day.” He groans as he snatches the bouquet from your hands and treads toward his bedroom door, expecting you to follow him.

Callahan's got you laying flat on your stomach while he's standing on the edge of the bed between your parted legs. Both of your clothes discarded onto the floor, rumpled from the rough handling. He leans over your body to reach over the neglected bouquet to the side of you on his bed.

Callahan's fingers hook under the perfectly tied ribbon, undoing it with a simple movement. The flowers fall apart on his bed, scattering as the ribbon holding them together comes undone.

His palm slides under your chin, lifting your head up as he folds the red satin over your nape and around to the front column of your throat. His hands are surprisingly experienced with tying a bow, securing it just above your Adam's apple.

“This romantic enough for you?” He bites out, fingers curling along the ribbon at the back of your neck before he tugs at it. It strains against your neck, forcing your head to tilt back.

“You've got rose petals, a nice house to stay in, a pretty ribbon around your neck, and a fucking great guy to take care of you.” It's a sarcastic jab at himself, knowing how he's defying all his moral codes just for you—and it doesn't feel wrong at all.

He holds you there, observing how you just take it with no complaints, and that scarily turns him on more than he'd want to admit.

Callahan finally releases you, letting you catch your breath for about one good second before he's stuffing himself into you, sliding his thick ridge past that tight ring of muscle. He groans like he's restraining himself from liking it as his hand instinctively grips the ribbon—not pulling it yet.

He's holding you like he's gripping a saddle, and he plans to ride out his high for tonight.

He leans over your back just slightly to drag himself—even if just a centimetre more—deeper as he pushes until his own body slaps against yours. Callahan can feel you fluttering around him, stretching and adapting to his girth as he gently rocks himself forward to speed up the process.

When he assumes you've adapted enough, Callahan pulls out just enough that his tip is still keeping your hole stretched and open for him. He leans back to get a good view of your body connecting with his, gripping and groping the plush flesh of the back of your thighs before he spits on his dick and shoves it back into you.

The sudden intrusion has you yelping into the pillow, nails clawing at his pure white sheets, threatening to rake scratch marks all over them.

He pounds into you, the slick sound of lube and his spit mixing together while he's fucking an imprint into your walls. You feel every thick vein pulsing with need and it makes your legs tremble with each thrust.

“Don't act like you haven't been sleeping around like this before I caught you,” he grunted, giving you a sharp tug to the band around your neck. “But shit if those bastards aren't lucky,” you can't pick up what he's muttering under his breath from the obscene sound of wet slapping and creaking.

You'd protest if you're teeth weren't clamped down around the fluff of Callahan's pillow. The constant slide of his girth dragging along your walls makes you squirm like its ticklish.

Your neck is lightly throbbing from the pressure of the ribbon, but it's in a way that's sickly enjoyable. Not to mention your own cock is rubbing against Callahan's sheets, adding to the mind-numbing stimulation.

“You're quiet today. Where's that mouthy boy I know?” He says it as if he's gently cooing to a dog or a pet, but to you, its a sardonic mock. Callahan grips the satin like a rein, jerking your head up to let all those filthy noises spill from your lips.

His balls draw heavy with the burden of pleasure seeing you arched so much alike to a cat. One hand grips the spot where your waist meets you hips, and he digs his fingers deep enough for crescents to form. With the way you're whining out in esctasy, it tells him that he's found your prostate, and he's actively bumping it every time he thrusts.

There's a sharp vibrating sound that comes from Callahan's phone on the night stand and his screen lights up blue with the words 'Glasses police officer' on it. Callahan mentally curses out that son of a bitch, especially since he was explicit when asking him not to call.

“What?” He growls out into the phone, slotting it between his ear and a hiked up shoulder as he continues to roll his hips back and forth into you. He hears your whine and how you're turning your head to look back at him but he just pushes your face back down, not wanting to deal with your dejected look because he's diverting the tiniest bit of attention away from you.

“When are you coming back to work? You've got a few important paperwork you need to fill out,” Alastair's voice was like nails on a chalkboard right now, especially when that static sound coming from his phone was drowning out your cute moans.

“Do you think doing this will make me want to come back?”

“No... But sir I—”

Callahan's mind is pulled away from the phone call for a minute as he discries the small trembling of your torso, and how eagerly you're pushing back against him like you're trying to encourage him deeper.

“He's about to cum,” He voices his thoughts shamelessly to the officer on the other line, “I'm not coming back 'till tomorrow.”

There's an air of silence from Alastair's part before he speaks up with a flustered and almost out of breath voice, “He's– Who? What—?”

Before anymore questions were thrown at Callahan, he hangs up and tosses his phone to a random corner of the bed, turning his full attention to you. More so to the slight jolting movements you're doing and the breathless and elonged moan you're sobbing into the pillow.

“Jesus christ,” He draws out; the sharp shock of his orgasm comes without warning from watching you lose yourself, and he's overbrimming you with his pleasure. No matter how hard you're squirming or twitching, Callahan holds you down with his hands, pushing down at your neck and the base of your spine, keeping you still as he pumps his generation into you.

Callahan pushes his hair back as he lets out a content sigh—as content as he could physically make himself sound.

“Who was that?” Your voice was so small and hoarse it almost made Callahan feel bad for making you scream your lungs out. Almost.

“Just go to sleep, I don't need your jealous whining,” he huffed, carefully taking off the ribbon from your neck and absent-mindedly rubbing your neck to soothe the pain he inflicted out of instinct.

You held your tongue just so he wouldn't notice he was doing it.

a / n ; hopefully this wasn't too freaky . . . m'not good at hard-core stuff T T , divider credits –> @/roseraris

#servicpop — fics/drabbles #bottom male reader #male reader #oc x male reader #sub male reader #mlm #x bottom male reader #mlm nsft #uke male reader #amab reader #x male reader smut #x male reader

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thargelalia · 2 months ago

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see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?”

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, but chooses to ignore him, too immersed in his current book to care.

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace.

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory.

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day again.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble.

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course.

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him.

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!”

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes.

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it.

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.”

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes frantically. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.”

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove. But his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy. An impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air.

He lowers it, closing his mouth.

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride.

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”

There’s a shocked gasp.

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips.

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.”

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?”

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?”

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile.

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.”

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

#jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc fanfic #jason todd x y/n #dc imagine #red hood fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf #red hood x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfiction

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pitchsidestories · 22 days ago

Text

What is this feeling ? (2) II Alexia Putellas x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1288

summary: Alexia broke up with you, but what happens when a small accident makes her question if it was the right decision to let you go that soon ?

author's note: thanks for the love for part one, we hope you'll enjoy part two just as much. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⏪ Part 1

“Alexia!”, Mapi shouted at the top of her lungs.

Composed, the midfielder answered:” Calm down, Maria.”

“No!”, she exclaimed passionately.

In a matter of fact-tone, Alexia explained:” It’s the only reasonable decision.” Much quieter, the blonde added:” This wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

The defender cursed under her breath: “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m not.”, her team captain countered.

Mapi objected strongly: “Yes, you’re.”

‘”t's less heartbreaking in the long run”, Alexia lied to herself. This lie would have convinced anyone, but not one of her best friends.

The younger woman raised an eyebrow sceptically: “What are you talking about? You’re not even trying with her.”

“We were trying it out for a week, and it was wonderful.”, the older player reminisced with a dreamy look in her hazel eyes.

Pictures of the short honeymoon phase you both had shared came to her mind. You two were quite the opposite pair, not just age wise. Nevertheless, it was exciting to be in each other's company, especially because of your different personalities.

With a sad smile Mapi concluded: “And then you got scared.”

“Sorry, I have to take that call.”, Alexia apologized.

The midfielder had a bad sense of foreboding when she saw that Jana was calling her, she suspected that something must have taken place. Alexia picked up the phone with a queasy feeling.

“What happened?... Wait, where the hell are you?”, the blonde asked her with a worried undertone.

Jana's nerves seemed on edge as she was searching for the right words: “Uhm..”

“Tell me quickly.”, Alexia urged the younger woman.

She dropped your name and the captain’s heart sank.

“Apologies, Maria, but I’ve to go.”, the blonde announced.

The defender frowned in confusion:” What?”

“It has to do with her.”, Alexia emphasized.

“Oh.”

The midfielder was already on her way out of the front door: “So, if you excuse me now, I really need to leave.”

“Go.”, Mapi nodded understandingly as her friend waved goodbye.

Only a few minutes later, Alexia waited anxiously for Jana to let her inside. “Ale.”, she greeted her with a pale face.

In true captain's and older sister’s manner, the blonde assured the defender: “Hi, don’t worry, I’m here.”

“Thanks.”, Jana looked soothed by her presence. With a welcoming smile on her lips, she added:” Come on in.”

A few of their teammates were standing nervously in the hallway.

“So, where is she?”, she questioned them.

Nervously, Ona ran her fingers through her hair:” On the sofa.”

“Will you tell me now, what exactly happened? Jana was very vague on the phone.”, Alexia demanded.

It was Ona who spoke again, while the others looked down to the ground in dismay: “It’s not too bad. We wanted to cheer her up with a pyjama party and she kind of fell off the bed when we jumped on it.”

Alexia didn’t answer. Pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, she took a deep breath to steady herself.

Cata nodded to support Ona: “Exactly. So actually you happened to her.”

“Me?”, Alexia echoed, offended by the insinuation. She quickly bit down her anger and changed the topic: “Did she pass out?”

Only then you realised that she had caught sight of you.

Through the throbbing headache, you blinked at her. You were almost certain that she wasn’t real and would disappear if you blinked hard enough.

“This bump on her head will hurt.”, you suddenly heard her say right next to you while soft fingertips brushed the hair from your forehead, right above the tender spot above your temple.

“She was only gone for a few seconds so it can’t be that bad, right? Right?”, Jana asked, her voice rising with panic.

“Ale? Go away.”, you complained, trying to bat her hand away but the quick movement made you immediately queasy again.

The midfielder deliberately ignored you and turned to Jana: “No, she’s pretty much conscious.”

Even through that excruciating head ache, you didn’t miss the mocking tone in her voice.

Anger took over. You forced yourself to sit up: “I said leave.”

“No.”, Alexia replied calmly.

You both stared at each other for a while.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

For the sake of your health, you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her.

“You can’t just leave and return whenever you please.”, you snapped at her, grimacing with pain.

The midfielder remained unimpressed: “I wouldn’t have returned if you were able to take care of yourself.”

“I had everything under control. This was just an accident.”, you assured her.

“Sure.”

“If you’re not leaving, I’ll leave.”

Tired of Alexias condescending replies, you tried to get up from the sofa and leave the living room but as soon as you stood upright, you started seeing black spots dance in front of your eyes. The dizziness forced you to grip the armrest of the sofa, just in case.

Alexia quickly grabbed the elbow of your other arm: “You can’t”

“It’s okay. I can walk from here to my flat.”, you said, pulling your arm away from her.

“You stay right where you are.”, Alexia warned and in the next moment, you were picked up by her and thrown over her shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“Alexia, put me down. I swear-…”

“You swear what, huh?”

You tried to reach for the right words but what came out was closer to the truth than you liked: “You’re so confusing… Hot and cold. Almost impossible to grasp…”

“That’s the head injury.” she explained.

Too exhausted to fight her you gave in:” I just want to go home, so the girls can enjoy their sleepover.”

“I’ll bring you home.”, the midfielder explained in a tone of voice that would not tolerate any protest from your side.

You said your goodbyes to your friends who you hoped would still enjoy the evening even though it didn’t turn out as planned. Before you had even left the flat, Cata promised you that if you felt better, you would repeat the event.

The bond you had with your teammates was special, and you wouldn't give it up for the world, even if it meant seeing your ex-girlfriend, who broke up with you after a week, almost every day - they were worth the stay.

“Thanks, although I could have driven home on my own.”, you whispered as you rested your head on the cool car windscreen, which helped to ease the pain a little.

Whilst doing so, you could still see her giving you the side eye: ”Sure.”

A little later, you thanked her once more for driving you, but to your surprise, Alexia got out of the car too:” You think I’m already leaving?”

“You’re not?”

“You’ve a head injury, someone has to stay with you.”, the responded the older woman who was known for her stubbornness.

When she helped you to bed, you told her:” I’m good, Ale.”

“Shut up. I won’t leave.”, Alexia grumbled.

A sudden intuition struck you: “If I kiss you right now would you leave then?”

To your and her surprise, she said no.

You both placed everything into the kiss, the sweetness, the pain, everything melted together when your lips touched. It tasted of heartache and the possibility of healing it.

“And you’re still here.” you realised out of breath.

Alexia confirmed this in earnest: “I’m.”

“What does it mean?”, you asked her, searching her hazel eyes for the answer.

She pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead:” That this is only the beginning not the end.”

If Alexia had to answer the question of, what that feeling was, her answer would be simple: it was love, regardless of what the outside world might think because of your age difference.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/okboomer17/752550115290513408/alexia-labor-omnia-vincit-2022?source=share

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unconventional-lawnchair · 1 month ago

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Lily's Touch

Poly!Marauders + Lily x Reader who's experiencing her first heat...

Summary: The reader is experiencing her first heat, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't get her nest right.

WC: 1.4k

CW: Omegaverse, grammar and spelling, not proof read, references of intense emotions and the reader is self conscious.

Remus knew it was coming- everyone did.

Seven years of Hogwarts, two years of living with your mates, and not once had you experienced a heat.

It didn’t bother him, not really. It didn’t bother any of them, but they all knew how much it bothered you. The way your shoulders tensed when Lily went into heat, how you’d quietly dote on her with sweet affections, offering soothing touches and cups of tea. But when it came to yourself, you withdrew, closing in on yourself like you didn’t deserve the same attention. You never said it outright, but they could see it- the way you felt left behind, as though your body had somehow failed you. It broke his heart.

They’d tried to comfort you in countless ways. Late-night reassurances, Remus’s soft words murmured over cocoa, James’s hand squeezing yours with that protective and reassuring energy, Sirius teasing you relentlessly until you couldn’t help but laugh, and Lily’s endless supply of comfort. They’d spent nights making sure you knew that even if you never went into heat, even if your body never did what you expected, it wouldn’t change how much they loved you. You were theirs, no matter what. But words only went so far.

Yesterday, everything changed.Remus was the first to notice.

It started small; little things, like the way you trailed after them through the house, never straying too far from anyone’s side. You clung to Sirius’s shirt that morning as he made breakfast, your fingers twisting in the fabric absentmindedly. Sirius had given you a curious look but said nothing, choosing instead to ruffle your hair and tease you lightly about being clingy. Normally, you’d respond with a sassy remark or a playful shove, but this time, you simply leaned into his touch with a quiet hum.

James noticed next. You curled up beside him on the couch, tucking yourself under his arm like you belonged there, and he didn’t question it. He simply wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple while Lily smiled knowingly from across the room.

By midday, it was undeniable. You were restless, unsettled in a way none of them had seen before. Your instincts were bubbling just beneath the surface, tugging at you in directions you didn’t fully understand. And by evening, it all came to a head.

The last sign was when Remus got up to move. You’d been half-curled in Sirius’s lap, Remus’s fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your ankle. But the moment he shifted to stand, you stared at him, wide-eyed and panicked, as if the simple act of him moving away was too much to bear.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Remus cooed softly, pausing in place. He hadn’t meant to upset you, but the way your eyes began to water sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your voice small and shaky. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Remus whispered gently, stepping closer again. “Come here.” He opened his arms, and you immediately clung to him, pressing your face into his jumper with a sniffle of a cry.

That night, Remus took you to bed with him, and the simple act of being close seemed to calm you. But it was only the beginning.

The next day, it became clear to everyone- this was it. You were going into heat for the first time.

No one said a word, not wanting to put pressure on you. The human body was strange, and any small thing could ruin this. They wanted you to experience it at your own pace, to live through it without the weight of expectations. But by afternoon, as everyone gathered in the living room, it became impossible to ignore.

You’d gotten it into your head that you needed to build a nest. It started with a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, but no matter how much you arranged and rearranged them, it didn’t feel right. You’d build it up, only to tear it apart moments later, frustration growing with every failed attempt.

Remus had seen it coming- how you were spiraling between uncertainty and instinct, your body and mind at odds with something new and overwhelming. It made his chest ache, watching you struggle to build your nest, tearing it apart moments later as frustration clouded your features. He wanted to reach out, to tell you again that it didn’t matter if it was perfect. That you didn’t need to prove anything to them. You were enough. You always had been.

But he knew better. You needed to figure it out in your own way. Still, he stayed close, crouched beside you, ready to help if you asked.

Lily’s voice was calm and soothing, her fingers brushing through your hair as she murmured reassurances. “It’s okay, love. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But it feels wrong.” Your voice trembled, hands twisting in the fabric of a blanket as though it might somehow yield the answer you were looking for. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s strange the first time,” Lily said gently, her hand never pausing in its soothing strokes. “You’re doing great, I promise.”

You didn’t seem convinced. Remus could see the doubt weighing on you, the way your shoulders tensed under Lily’s touch. It wasn’t frustration anymore; it was fear. Fear of doing it wrong. Fear of not being enough.

“You’re trying too hard,” he said softly, leaning in a little closer. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

“I don’t want to mess it up,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just… I want to impress you. I want it to be good. I want to do it right for once.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. You didn’t need to impress them. You didn’t need to be anything other than who you already were. He reached out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own, giving them a soft squeeze. “You don’t have to impress us,” he said quietly. “We already think you’re incredible.”

James knelt beside you, hazel eyes warm with quiet affection. “We’re proud of you,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

Sirius plopped down on your other side, grinning as he draped an arm around your shoulders. “Come on then, what is it?”

You blinked at him, confused. “What’s what?”

Sirius shrugged, voice teasing but kind. “What’s that pretty head saying? What’s it want you to do?”

For a moment, you hesitated. Remus could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you bit your lip nervously. But then, something shifted. You let out a shaky breath, slowly rising to your feet. They all watched in silence as you paused, glancing around the room like you were searching for something. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your breathing uneven.

And then, as though pulled by an unseen thread, you turned and made your way toward the shared room. You hesitated at the door, casting a glance back at them, eyes uncertain, before stepping inside.

Remus followed quietly, stopping in the doorway as you approached Lily’s nest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want to disturb whatever instinct was guiding you now. He only watched as you reached out, running your fingers over the soft blankets and pillows that made up Lily’s carefully crafted space.

You knelt down slowly, curling into the nest with a soft, content sigh, as though it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Lily covered her mouth with her hand, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she took in the sight of you nestled in her space. There was something unspoken between the two of you, something so deeply emotional that it made Remus’s throat tighten.

Of course. Of course, this was where you’d end up.

Was it really all that shocking? You had always been Lily’s girl. Always gravitated toward her warmth, her comfort. It made sense in a way that felt almost poetic, that your first heat would lead you to her nest, to the place where you felt safest.

Remus smiled softly to himself, heart aching with affection as he watched Lily crawl in beside you, wrapping her arms around you protectively. You sighed again, melting into her hold, and Remus knew- no matter how long it had taken, no matter how difficult it had been for you to get here- you were finally where you belonged.

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iamwonyoung · 4 months ago

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did it help? — lee jeno

idol!jeno x f!reader

basically just smut, brat taming, pet names, fingering, plaplspls minors do not interact.

you find yourself suddenly irritated by jeno, and you can't quite put your finger on why. is it the hormones playing tricks on you? or could it be the fact that he performed shirtless at a concert, which was honestly a bit much? you prefer to keep jeno all to yourself, and sharing him with others just doesn't sit right with you.

poor jeno is confused by your sudden change in mood. "what did I do wrong, baby?" he asks, reaching out to touch your arm. but you give him a scowl, not in the mood for his advances.

he sits closer, wrapping an arm around you on the couch. "come on, my love, what's wrong? I'll do anything to make it better." he kisses your temple, hoping to soothe your mood. but your brows remain furrowed, and you can't seem to shake this feeling.

sighing, jeno buries his face in your neck, leaving soft kisses that send shivers down your spine. "you're being a total brat for no reason, you know that?" he teases, pulling you closer with one hand on your waist. "do you want something? or do you want me to do something?" he knows your desires all too well.

you stare up at him, your lips slightly parted as his words make your brain go haywire. why is he so effortlessly hot? it's beyond annoying, and you can't help but feel a mix of frustration and desire.

he chuckles, "come on, stop frowning like that. it's not that serious." his hand slides down to your hips, and he buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent.

he caresses your leg, testing the waters. when you don't protest, he moves his hand up towards the hem of your shirt.

"it's not gonna help," you say coldly, but it's just an act. jeno chuckles, knowing you're enjoying this little game.

"we'll see about that," he says with a shrug, straightening up and kneeling in front of you on the couch. "should we test it out and see if it helps?" he asks, his hand already inside your shorts.

you let him continue, hoping it'll ease your annoyance towards him. and it does, you have to admit. you feel your body relax as his fingers tease your clit through the fabric of your panties, making you flinch.

your instinct is to close your legs, but his other hand spreads them open, leaving you vulnerable. you feel the wetness between your legs, staining your shorts, and it excites you.

jeno is getting impatient now, and he hooks your panties to the side, inserting his middle finger into your entrance. you gasp, straightening up and closing your legs again.

"don't move, baby," he says, his voice a mix of desire and command. but you can't help it, can you? you feel his fingers circle your clit, and then another one joins in, stretching you open.

you try to push him away, but it's too late. his fingers are deep inside you, and you're losing control. your head shoots up, almost hitting his chin, as he begins to pump his fingers in and out.

you're speechless, your body responding to his touch. jeno looks at you with a soft chuckle, enjoying your struggle.

"what is it, baby? you were so bratty and snobby before, but now you can't even form words," he teases. he pumps his fingers deeper, and you lean back on the couch, your eyes closed, lost in pleasure.

"just take it, and maybe later you won't whine and act all snobby for no reason, hmm?" he whispers seductively.

with a final pump, your orgasm crashes over you, and you clench your eyes shut, your body shaking with pleasure.

jeno pulls his fingers out, placing them on your mouth for you to taste yourself. "did it help, love?" he asks, his voice filled with satisfaction.

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writingsbychlo · 2 months ago

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TRADITIONS AND VALUES | THEODORE NOTT

SUMMARY: You spend Christmas Eve with your boyfriend and his family. WORD COUNT: 8715 NOTES: Just warning you all, this really is a sickeningly self-indulgent romanticised softy Theo and I make no apologies.

The Internazionale di Roma Floo Station was busier than you’d expected, even if it was the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve. People were rushing from one place to another, some with suitcases, others with stacks of presents so tall they couldn't see around them, some dragging wailing children, and others holding signs. You’d yet to even take a step off the platform itself before someone was shouldering past you, mumbling as they rushed by you in a hurry, and you sighed.

Lifting your bag back onto your shoulder, you made your way down the platform towards the collections point, nerves ricocheting higher and higher with every step you took. The floo station in Italy was warmer than London had been, and you loosened the scarf around your neck to let it hang open. The moment you cleared border checks and registration, gathering your wand on the other side and smiling at a not-so-smiley security officer, you searched for Theo.

It didn’t take long to find him, not as you searched through the crowds of people gathered with signs, leaning against a pillar, bundled in a thick coat and looking adorably sleepy. At your call of his name, his head snapped up, peering around with juxtaposing alertness and locking his gaze on you as you hurried towards him.

Perhaps it had only been a week or so since you’d last seen him, but it felt like months, as you crashed into your boyfriend’s arms and buried yourself in his embrace once again.

“Oh, bella, mi sei mancato così tanto.” He murmured, his face pressed into your hair as he kissed across to your temple.

“I missed you, Teddy.” Your words were muffled as you were crushed to his chest, holding him just as tightly as he was holding you. Blocking out the hustle and bustle of the International Floo Station around you, you took a deep breath, drawing in the smell of him and sighing happily. Letting him go after another breath, he tucked hair out of your eyes, cupping your cheeks when they were unobstructed, and leaning down to kiss you.

His mouth was warm, and he tasted like coffee and sugary pastries, a flavour you licked from his lower lip as he smiled into the kiss. You were practically melting against him, the racing of your heart calming as his lips soothed away any anxieties you’d previously been harbouring. Running your hands up his forearms slowly, you took his hands in your own, and stepped back.

“You got coffee?”

“In the car.” He smiled, eyes still closed as his head rested on your own. “Proper, Italian coffee. The best kind.”

“Tastes good already.” You teased, and he pulled back, a smirk on his face as his arm slung over your shoulders, tucking you securely into his side.

“Feel free to have another sample.” He whispered, stealing another kiss from your lips as he reached across your body with his other hand. Taking your bag from your shoulder, his eyes widened as the weight of it almost dragged him down to the ground, rattling and clinking as it went. “Merda, what do you have in here?”

“Gifts for your family! I wasn’t going to show up empty-handed!”

He peered inside, shaking his head as he stared into the darkness within. “Another extension charm? No wonder it took you so long to clear security.”

“It’s a legal one!”

“Mhm.”

“It is!” You insisted, reaching to snatch for your bag again but he only rolled his eyes, hauling it up onto his shoulder and guiding you out of the busy station. Theo gave a tired hum as he directed you towards the car, a large SUV with plush leather seats, charmed to stay warm, as you settled inside. Plucking up one of the coffees, you spun it around, noting your order on the front, and taking a sip as Theo packed your bag into the back.

The caffeine rush it gave you was the boost you needed, sending a jolt of warm energy through your body, and as Theo climbed into the driver’s seat, you twisted your head to look at him. “You got my coffee order right.”

“Of course I did.” He scoffed, like it was the simplest thing in the world, and as he started the car, you reached over and placed your hand atop his. He flipped his palm, bringing your wind-chilled fingers up to his lips to place a kiss against your knuckles. As he returned your hand to the gearstick, he settled his own over the top, and began the drive.

“So, why is it that we’re driving?” You asked, breaking the comfortable silence you’d been in for the last half an hour or so, watching the cityscape melt into frost-covered countryside.

“My family is excited to meet you, some of them are already up and crowded in the family room by the floo waiting for you. So I snuck out to the garage and thought I’d drive to come and get you so we could spend a little time together first.”

“Oh, Teddy. You’re getting soft on me.” You smiled, and he reached over, squeezing one of your thighs and smirking.

“Or, maybe, I just intend to pull over to the side of the road and fuck you stupid before we even have breakfast.”

“Don’t be so crude.” You pinched the back of his hand, which only earned you a harder squeeze to your thigh, and a cheeky laugh. “I intend to make a good first impression on your family, and showing up thoroughly-fucked would not help with that.”

“Well, at least you admit it would’ve been fantastic.” He sighed a laboured exhale, like he was pained to concede the hypothetical sex, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t think they’d care even if you did, for the record. When I say they’re very excited to meet you, I mean it.”

“That doesn’t make me any less nervous.” Came your muttered response, and this time, he turned to look at you for a little longer.

“I don’t think you understand, bella. They already love you, because they know how much I love you. They’ve been bugging me to bring you home since last year, and I’ve already told them all about you. They don’t have any expectations of you, they just want to know the girl who makes me so happy.”

Your lips pressed together, hiding a soft sound from escaping and watching the roads disappear under the signs as you tried to process what to say, “Theo…” Was all you managed to muster in five whole minutes, and he laughed again gently.

“Amore mio, I just want you to enjoy today. I only get one day with you, so I want us to make the most of it.” Your stomach twisted at his words, keeping your response to yourself, and choosing instead to pick his hand up. You kissed his knuckles, rubbing your cheek on his hand as he smiled. “Just… do your best to enjoy it, yeah? I want to show you what Christmas in Italy is all about.”

“Okay, Teddy. I can do that.”

“That’s my girl.”

“I think you may actually have more Christmas trees than Hogwarts.” You teased as the car slowly pulled up in front of a large stately home. The driveway you’d just finished travelling up had been lined with sparkling Christmas trees, the snow decorating them and glistening in the rising sun.

Theo sighed, parking the car and shutting off the engine, staring at the largest Christmas tree yet, sitting in the centre of the forecourt. “I know. Nonna goes big on Christmas, there’s even more inside.”

“How many are there?”

“Thirty-six,” Theo rubbed a hand over his jaw, “Counted them myself.”

“Thirty-six Christmas trees?” Your jaw dropped, and he shook his head in matching disbelief. “Which one do you put your presents under?”

“Funny you should ask that.” His grimace turned to a smile, eyes going a little cloudy as he stared off across the driveway. “When I was younger, my mother used to hide one of my Christmas presents under every single one, and I got to spend all day going around to find them.”

You reached across the car, taking his hand and lacing your fingers through his. He squeezed, coming back to the present a moment later, as his mind returned from his memories. “I bet you were so cute, running around in your little festive pyjamas hunting for presents.”

“I was the cutest. My Aunt Allessandra already got the baby albums out for you.”

“Most people don’t boast about baby photos, you know that, right?”

His grin was arrogant, “Most people weren’t as adorable as I was. You know some babies are really ugly? Not me, I was—”

“Theo, you can’t call babies ugly!” You smacked his arm, shaking your head at his cackled laughter as you climbed out of the car. He followed suit, closing his door loudly and racing to the back to nudge you out of the way before you could take your bag.

“C’mon, you know it’s true. Anyways, it’s not like you have to worry about that. Your babies will be adorable, because—” You cupped a hand over his mouth, giving him a warning glare, and he only winked through smothered laughter. Slipping your hand away, he pressed a fleeting kiss to your palm as it left, and scooped up your bag from the car. “Fine. No baby talk from me. Can’t promise about the rest of the family. Nonna wants us to get married by the—”

“Ah! Meraviglioso, they’re here!” A feminine voice called from the large front doors, ones you hadn't even noticed had opened, and you stiffened as Theo’s eyes widened. Several other voices joined the other, footsteps getting closer, and his shock morphed into a small smile.

“Here we go, amore.”

Stepping aside, Theo hardly even had a chance to greet his family before hands were cupping your cheeks, warmed by the indoors and soft as they held you. “Oh, you are so beautiful! Bellisima!”

“Auntie Allie…” He scoffed, nudging her back, but it wasn’t long before other relatives of his were gathering around too. Two of his aunts and three of his cousins, all chattering between English and Italian, admiring and complimenting, you could guess, based on how pink Theo’s cheeks were going.

One of his male cousins said something that made him scowl and elbow him in the ribs, before he was reaching through the others and taking your hand. Tugging you closer to his side; an action which settled your nerves but only increased the volume of adoring coos the two of you were afforded.

“We made big plans for today.” One of his aunts —Giulia, you were sure— informed you, touching your arm lightly as Theo steered you towards the house.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that…”

“Sì, Auntie Gi, I told you not to go overboard with this!” Theo groaned, and she shushed him with a wave of her hand.

“Yes, yes, you did. But we decided otherwise. Your girl deserves a full Italian Christmas and she’s going to get one!” A blush covered your cheeks, you could feel it rage even hotter the moment you stepped over the threshold and into the warmed house. As you did, an elderly elf wearing a pink knitted hat, a floral apron and one sock appeared, holding out her hands.

“Cappotto!” She demanded, snapping her fingers, and Theo shrugged off his coat quickly and handed it to her. You followed suit, and she left with a soft huff and a pop.

“That is Miffy. She runs the rest of the elves here with an iron rod. She put on her special occasion sock for you.”

“One sock?”

“Yes, she’s very particular about it. Says wearing two socks makes her too warm.” He rolled his eyes, hefting your bag higher up on his shoulder.

“Sounds like you with your leg sticking out of the covers every night.”

“Did you just compare me to a house elf?” He gaped, and you shrugged, grinning at him over your shoulder as you followed the rest of his family further into the house. You were guided past several open rooms, before arriving in a large, open-plan sitting room.

Some of his family were already gathered around, sipping from mugs of tea and coffee, a table laid out with breakfast pastries and food piled high. A group of young children were sitting around the tree and poking at the piles of gifts stacked there. Beside them, sat an older lady, enchanted knitting needles surrounding her as she used the set in her hands to knit far slower into a more interesting design. As one little finger tugged on a bow, she raised her brow and poked the giggling toddler lightly with one of her needles.

“That’s Nonna?” You whispered as Theo came to your side, and he placed your bag down beside the closest table, nodding his head.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone else, but I want you to officially meet her first.”

His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you across the room, and as you got close, the knitting needles, floating on command, all slowed to a stop. She lowered the ones in her hands to her lap, her gaze running over you as appraised you, and your hands locked nervously in front of your body, fiddling with your fingers.

“Nonna, this is my girlfriend.”

“Well, obviously, Theodore.” She drawled, shaking her head at him, and he bit back a smile. Her attention shifted back to you, and she smiled at you. Holding up her knitting, she proffered the half-finished square pattern. “This colour, do you like it? And no flattery, I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

A laugh escaped you, and you nodded, pinching the soft fabric between two fingers. “It’s a nice shade of purple. My second favourite, even.”

“Second favourite?”

“I like a lighter purple too.” She hummed, snapping her fingers and a basket of other wools floated over to you both from the corner. She rooted through it, before producing a lavender shade, “Like this?”

“Exactly like that.”

“Good choice. I like it too.” She added it to her current pile of wool to use. “My Theodore tells me you are a smart and kind girl. He speaks very highly of you.”

She patted the chair beside her, and you sat down in it, turning to face her, “I hope he’s not set the bar too high about me.”

“No, he set it just right. He deserves someone good, my grandson. He deserves the best.”

“I know.” You whispered, and Theo scuffed his feet against the floor.

“Nonna…”

“Go, Theodore. Get breakfast, you must eat.” She waved him away, and after lingering for only a moment longer, he did as told, leaving the two of you alone. “He loves you very much.”

“I love him too.” Your words rushed from you, assuring her of as much, and she patted your hand with a fond expression.

“You’ll make sure he’s happy.”

“I promise, I’ll—”

“It was not a question. You will make him happy. You already do.” She confirmed, and your lips pressed together, chin wobbling a little as you nodded. It was a promise, all you needed to say, and she squeezed your hand reassuringly as she understood it. “He was sad for a long time, but you make him smile.”

With that, Theo was returning, perching himself on the arm of the chair you were sitting on and passing you a plate that was stacked high. On it were all of your breakfast favourites from the spread, everything you would’ve picked for yourself as well as his preferences, and he dropped a kiss on the top of your head.

“So,” He directed his raised voice to the rest of the room, glancing out across his family, “What busy schedule have you all conjured up for us, then?”

As you ate the breakfast provided, his family excitedly told you all of the plans they had for the day. You also made it through introductions, doing your best to commit the names and faces of every enthusiastic family member to your memory. You were just finishing up a conversation with his youngest uncle when Miffy appeared once again, informing you all with a bossy kind of voice that in order to stay on schedule, it was time to leave.

Several elves appeared, laden down with coats, hats and scarves as they handed them out, and the room jumped into action. Tugging you up from the chair, Theo helped you into your coat, before wrapping a spare scarf around your neck, and leaving a kiss on your cheek before bundling himself up too. The movement of the family was dizzying, and you simply opted to follow along, until you were being ushered through the large floo in the family room fireplace, hand clasped in Theo’s as his voice wrapped in perfect Italian around your first location.

A tug behind your navel, a flash of blinding green fire, and you were stepping out into the cold of a busy and bustling street.

The first stop of the day was the Italian street markets. You’d encountered similar, and at first glance, it all felt so very much like home. You’d spent many a Christmas wandering the wooden huts of the Trafalgar Square Christmas Markets back in London, and a grin crawled onto your face at the comfort of it.

Then, a loud screeching sounded just to your right, melting away into coordinated music as a walking band of bagpipe players passed you by, and Theo laughed in your ear by your side as you clutched a hand to your chest.

“It’s not funny, Nott! That scared the lights out of me!”

“It was kinda’ funny. You should’ve seen your face. You were all awestruck and starry-eyed and then you looked like that time Draco jumped out at you with those plastic Muggle fangs in his mouth on Hallows Eve.” He clutched his stomach in contrast, head tipping back with laughter, and you nudged him in the ribs, even as his amusement brought a smile to your own lips.

“I’ll implore you to remember what happened to Draco when he laughed at me.” Your threat was only met with a smirk and hooded eyes as he tipped his head back down, tempering his laughter.

“Oh, but you wouldn't hex your boyfriend at Christmas, would you?” His lips brushed yours as he tipped your chin up. “You don’t want this lovely face disfigured, do you? You’re the one who has to kiss it.”

“Cut it out.” You whispered, blushing, as he pecked the edge of your mouth, “This is a family event.”

“I’m aware.” He murmured, sealing it with a chaste kiss to your lips and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Alright, there’s lots I want to show you and definitely not enough time for it all. Where do you want to start?”

“You tell me.”

“Let’s go.” He beamed, guiding you after his family as the group began to move, idling to the left and in trail of the procession of bagpipe players that had gone on ahead.

You wandered from stall to stall, looking at crafts and ornaments ad freshly made goods. There was a certain kind of cheerful energy in the air that only came around at Christmastime, and you soaked up very second of festive cheer that you could.

Theo plied you with treats at every opportunity, and his pockets started to become laden down with purchases neither of you needed, until he bought a hand-stitched bag at one stall and slung it over his shoulder just to carry everything the pair of you had been purchasing.

Slowly, the group split off, members of the family forming smaller groups to go off to each of their own activities and interests. As you continued exploring, you passed by what appeared to be a nativity scene, set up full-size, behind fences with small sheep and animals wandering around inside.

“This is lovely.” You turned to Theo, and he smiled at your words.

“This is the village Presepe.”

“Presepe?” You echoed, “I thought it was a Nativity scene.”

“A Presepe is a nativity scene, really. It’s the tradition to build one in the home, it’s important, it reminds us of the Christmas story. In my family, we dedicate a whole evening to building one. Ours is in the library, we like it to be somewhere quiet where we can reflect on and admire it.” You wrapped your arms around on of his, leaning your cheek on his shoulder, and his head rested on top of yours. “But, I also used to have a small one in my dorm at Hogwarts. You’ve seen it.”

“I never knew what it was, though. I mean, I didn’t know it meant so much, I thought it was just your general Christmas decorations.”

“It is, technically—”’

“No,” You cut him off, “It’s more important than that. I’ll remember for next year.”

He smiled at that, and the pair of you took a few more minutes to admire the scene, before moving on. Hours seemed to pass by as the two of you slipped into your own little world, soaking up all of the time you had together and huddling close in the cold, wintery air.

You wouldn't trade these times for the world. As doting as Theo was, as loving and devoted, these times when the two of you were alone and you were reminded. Reminded, that he wasn’t just someone you were attracted to or loved, but that he was also your best friend in every way, someone you could confide in and trust and rely on.

He was your whole world, and spending time with him, in a place that was his whole world, meant all the more to you. Something you were sure you wouldn't be able to express with words, so you indulged his every whim instead, and committed it all to memory.

You were still stuffed up from the fresh struffoli Theo had offered to you not long ago, feeding you bites from the shared tray before he’d ordered you another one. Unlike him, who seemed to eat endlessly and always still be hungry, you didn’t possess such a talent, and you were ready for a drink to wash it down, when he turned to you with a handful of more sweet treats.

“Try this, bella.”

“Just a bite.” You sighed, unable to say no to the adorable look on his face as he brought over what looked like a piece of fruitcake.

“Just a bite? Don’t be silly. You need more than one bite to appreciate this panettone.” He lifted it to your lips, and you parted them, his eyes sparkling as he watched you take a bite. He followed soon after, crumbs dropping to the floor between you both as he finished off the slice in a single mouthful. His cheeks puffed up like a hamster, and you raised your eyebrows as you chewed slowly, savouring the delicious treat. “What? You said you just wanted a bite!”

Your lips pressed further together and your hand covered your mouth to muffle a laugh as he spat crumbs everywhere while speaking. His cheeks turned red, and he shook his head fondly as he attempted to finished the excessive amount of food in his mouth.

“Careful, you two.” His cousin Maria grinned as she passed by, clapping Theo on the back as he choked down the treat. “Don’t eat too much, or you’ll ruin your appetite for the Feast later.”

“We’ll be fine, we’re indulging.” Theo scoffed, patting his stomach. “Tanto spazio, non preoccuparti.”

Your brows furrowed as Maria tipped her head back and laughter, Theo preening with pride at amusing his cousin as he joined her. As she ambled on ahead, still chatting to Theo in Italian, you took the time to admire one of the intricate craft stalls opposite the bakery stand.

Picking up a small glass trinket, you hung the bauble from your finger, watching the glittery item twirl before you and reflect the stark winter daylight in beautiful colours. “How much?” You asked, smiling at the vendor, who rubbed his chin.

“Ti piace?”

Your lips parted but no words came out, as you realised for the first time that without Theo, you were a little lost. Tapping it with your finger, you floundered for words, feeling more than ignorant and beyond embarrassed at your inability for simple communication for the first time today. It struck you, with a startling shock, that his family had been making the effort to speak to you in English, and you’d taken it for granted.

Swallowing back the clog of emotion in your throat, you coughed lightly, putting it down and pulling out your purse. Opening it up to the Muggle notes of Italian cash that you’d converted before leaving London, you offered him a handful. The vendor chuckled, taking the money from you and counting out just two of the notes, before passing the rest back. “Inglese? English?” He prompted, and you nodded, feeling the odd urge to apologise as he counted out coins and gave you a handful of those as change too.

“Yes. Uhm, sí.” You fumbled, cursing internally for how clumsy you sounded, but the older man merely smiled at you.

“Have a good day.” He spoke slowly, and it pained you not to be able to even return the simple kindness. Instead, you pointed at him.

“E tu.” There were a few small words here and there that you’d picked up from Theo over the years, and you could only hope you’d said something that made sense. By the look on his face, you’d at least managed to do that correctly. Pocketing your purse and your change, the man handed you your carefully wrapped ornament, and cheerfully gave you a goodbye as you stepped away, searching for Theo in the crowds.

He wasn’t far ahead, talking to his Nonna but his eyes were on you, and his face broke into a smile as your eyes met. Your mood seemed to thaw again at the sight of him, your heart warming the inside of your chest and spreading the feeling out through your body as you walked back to his side.

He held out his hand, and you took it, lacing your gloved fingers through his as he tugged you closer. “Nonna was just suggesting we go to the Tombola. It’s cold out here, and we can go inside and warm up. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds fun… what is it?”

Nonna chuckled, patting your arm. “You have heard of bingo, sí?”

“Oh, yes!” You cheered, and she clicked her fingers.

“Ah, it is like bingo. You will enjoy, my dear. Come, come.” She offered you her arm, and you accepted it eagerly, letting her slowly guide the three of you through the town centre you’d been circling for the last couple of hours, to the Town Hall sitting squarely in the middle.

She was right, it was much warmer inside, and you queued up with the few members of the Nott family that had come to join to check your coats. You tucked your scarf and gloves into your pockets hastily, handing the bundle over to the woman and letting Theo do the talking as he gave his name and took his tag.

You were rubbing your cooled hands together when he took one in his own, threading your hands together and squeezing happily as you joined the crowded hall filled with people. Finding a place to sit, you all hemmed yourselves in around the table, swiping up sheets and markers before the next round began. Theo leaned over to get a peek at your card, and you pressed it to your chest, causing him to pull back, surprised.

“Let me see.”

“No! Get your own, this is my card!” You held it tighter to your chest as he tried to steal it from you, his jaw dropping.

“You want to be on separate teams? I can’t believe this.” He feigned heartbreak, head hanging, and you giggled at his dramatics. Dipping down and into his eye-line, he stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated put. “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me like this, and here I thought you loved me! Oh, il dolore…”

“Oh, hush your whinging. Two teams means double the chance to win prizes.”

His lip slipped back into place, his eyebrows crawling up his forehead, and then his face broke with amusement. “My cunning little snake, I’m rubbing off on you. I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“What, just the one reason?”

“Well, I could start to list them all,” He leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear, “But I’m afraid we would run out of time.”

Taking his jaw in your hand, you smacked a kiss onto his cheek, his face scrunching up happily. “Ti amo, Theo.”

“I love you too, bella.” He reached across the table, swiping up a card and his own marker. Pulling your chair closer to his, he stretched his arm along the back of your seat and pressed you into his side.

“Hey, Theo?” You felt his responding hum against the top of your head as his fingers wove into your hair, rubbing lightly. “What’s ‘the Feast’ later?”

He pulled back enough to be able to see you, twisting strands of hair around his fingers. “Oh, the Feast of Seven Fishes. It’s a special meal at Christmas.”

“Oh, like Christmas dinner!” He dipped his chin in a nod, and you took the information on board, “You don’t do Christmas dinner, then?”

“‘Course we do.” He chuckled at you, “But, on Christmas Day. It’s Christmas Eve, so this is a Christmas Eve tradition.”

You knew inside Theo didn’t intend to make you feel at a disadvantage with the way he said it, but that didn’t stop you feeling that way. Once again, another small thing made you feel like you were inexperienced and behind the rest. At your lack of response, Theo tilted his head, his eyes searching your own. You distracted him with a kiss to his cheek, facing yourself back to the front of the room as a little old lady took the stage, bringing attention to the game that was just beginning.

Taking back your coat, Theo untangled himself from you to begin fastening one of his baby cousins into her coat. Yours was handed back to you, and you smiled appreciatively at the woman behind the desk. Taking your scarf out and wrapping it around your neck, you shrugged on your coat. Buttoning it up for warmth, at last, you patted your pockets down for your gloves as you made your way over to Theo and the group.

Both pockets came up empty, and you shoved your hands inside, rooting into the empty spaces to confirm. At some point, your gloves must’ve fallen out, but between the crowds gathering around the coatcheck desk and your lack of ability to communicate, you decided against making a bumbling effort to retrieve them. Writing them off, you left your hands curled up in your pockets as your boyfriend’s hand found your lower back, guiding you outside.

As you listened, he promised his family that the pair of you would reunite with them soon, you’d meet them at the pub floo you’d all entered through, but apparently, you had one more thing to do. At your raised brow, Theo quickly guided you towards the edges of the markets, where a small group was beginning to form, gathered around… nothing, you could see, as you got closer.

“It’s almost time to go home.” Theo offered, and you nodded, silently relieved as your freezing hands clenched inside your pockets, joints aching from the cold exposure. “Just one more thing I want us to do. Do you have your wand on you?”

Your head snapped up, noticing the smaller group you’d been assembled into on the edges of the town, and realising they all had their wands out too. “I-I don’t. I left it in my bag at yours, I didn’t know I would need it—”

“It’s okay, you can share mine.” He soothed, and he placed the smooth Hawthorn wand into your palm, his hand wrapping around your own and his back pressing to your chest. His other arm snaked around your middle, his chin propped on your shoulder. Only moments later, you were once again left steeped in confusion as he began to swirl your joined hands in the execution of a spell you didn’t know, reciting the charmed Italian with words you did not know, to cast an enchantment that you did not know.

The scene before you was breathtaking, swirls of coloured mist and sparks from all the group gathered around, bundling into a soft ball of light in the centre of the group, growing from a mere sparkling pinprick to something the size of a golfball, spinning with every addition of magic and power. When the group chanting ended, the small ball pressed itself smaller and smaller, before zooming off into the sky and disappearing into the grey clouds in a blink.

“Wow…” You murmured, turning to Theo, “What was—”

His lips pressed to yours firmly, his arms around you keeping you close as he placed a single, heavy kiss onto our mouth. “That, was an ancient tradition. Wizarding world special. Instead of mistletoe, you cast a spell with the person you love in a pledge for a happy and joyful Christmas. My mum used to bring me when I was a kid, and I… I wanted to bring you.”

“Oh, Teddy…” Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in until your eyes could flutter closed and your forehead was pressed to his. “That is so sweet. I’ve never heard of such a tradition before.”

“I’m not surprised.” He huffed to himself bemusedly, trapped in a joke only he understood. “Come on, let's get your home, your hands are freezing. Where are your gloves?”

“Think I lost them along the way somewhere.” You deflected, and he shrugged. The rest of his family were beginning to round up too, and none too soon, you were all piling once again back into a floo to Nott Manor. Unloading your coat to another excitable but demanding house elf, you guided yourself back through to the living room where the fires were still roaring. The youngest of the children sprinted past you, and you leaned down to gather your bag in the meantime.

In the background, you could hear Theo’s family chatting away, laughter and love filling the halls in a way that was so homely and comforting, and you guided yourself over to the Christmas tree already stacked high with presents underneath, spilling out in mountains from beneath.

Sinking to your knees, you opened up your bag, diving elbow-deep into the extended insides and beginning to pull out the few, carefully wrapped presents you’d brought with you. In the dining room, you could hear glasses clinking and corks popping, as preparations for the Feast you’d only just learned about took place.

That clawing, suffocating sense of embarrassment was back as you let slip a sigh, running a finger over the wrapping paper covered in small Santa hats that you’d used to wrap the gifts for the younger children. It felt so out of place now, utterly ridiculous, as you remembered hearing so many children running around the markets talking about La Befana, before eventually needing Theo to explain. You contemplated whether it was too late to find some other kind of paper and rewrap them.

With a shake of your head, your resolve weakened, fingers trembling as you picked at the red ribbon wrapped around it. “What’s wrong, amore?”

Theo startled you from being so lost in your thoughts, and you whipped around to see him standing over you, a concerned look on his face. At your hesitation, he lowered himself down to sit crosslegged before you.

“Nothing, baby. I’m all good, just putting a few presents under your tree.”

He watched you place the final gift on the small stack you’d added, before taking your hand in his, his thumb tracing your knuckles. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve gone all quiet.” He whispered, “What’s wrong, are you homesick?”

“No, not at all. I’m having a wonderful time.” You reassured him, squeezing his hand in your own.

“But you’re sad.”

“No, I’m not—” He gave you a look, one you were familiar with after a year together, pressing you for the truth and you caved faster than you’d have liked. Your voice cracked as you spoke quietly once again, “I feel like an idiot, Theo.”

“What are you talking about, bella? Why would you feel that way, I don’t understand?”

“I should’ve been more prepared. I’ve come to spend Christmas with your family, and you’ve all been so kind all day, and spoken my language because I don’t even know yours! I have been so behind at every step with your traditions and customs, I feel so selfish because I should’ve done more research into today, so that I could share it with you properly, but I didn’t!” Your eyes stung, and you tore your gaze away from his, “I’m sorry, Teddy.”

Theo cupped your cheek, a sad sound escaping him as he pressed kisses all over the side of your face you allowed him access to, as he tried to coax you to face him once again. “Listen to me, amore. Please? I didn’t expect you to know anything at all, you were here to learn, that was the whole point! I’ve had so much fun teaching you. I got to share everything with you and relive the magic of it by re-experiencing it all with you of the first time.”

His words did their job, easing some of the discomfort you’d been feeling, and you finally gave in, looking back up to him as he smiled, bumping his nose with your own lovingly.

“As for the English, in my family, we’re taught English alongside Italian since we started learning to talk at all. We all go to Hogwarts, and some of my family spend more of the year in London or Paris or other places than here at all, meaning Italian isn’t even our main language even if it is our first. It’s not something to stress about, I swear.” He gave you a quick but reassuring kiss, rubbing his thumb across your cheek as you smiled. “But if you want to learn Italian, I’ll teach you. I’d love to, but I never wanted you to feel forced to.”

“I’d like that.” You whispered, stealing a kiss too, and a little of that light came back to his face as you did.

“You know, I didn’t really know anything about English Christmas traditions until I started Hogwarts. Don’t you remember? You all had to teach me in first year.”

You cast your mind back, trying to remember the fuzzy memories of your friends from so long ago. “You caught on quick.”

“I’m a fast learner.” Theo teased playfully. “Please don’t let yourself feel down, because this day has been perfect for me, and I want you to remember it that way too.”

Your shoulders sagged, leaning into his hug, and you tried your best to let the last of your worries slip away. Theo’s hands rubbed up and down your back, and you melted a little more into his embrace.

“Ahem.” Theo’s uncle Marco coughed dramatically, and Theo groaned in your ear as he twisted his head on your shoulder to look at him.

“What? Can’t you see we’re having a moment here? Vaffanculo.”

“Now, now, Theo. What would Nonna say if I told her what you just said?” He grinned, and Theo lifted a hand to make a gesture you didn’t allow, clasping his hand and lowering it back down. His uncle smirked, putting his hands on his hips, “Sorry to interrupt your moment, but it’s time to eat.”

He left before Theo could respond, and you clambered to your feet, brushing yourself off and offering him your hands. He took them, letting you pull him to his feet before he was checking in on you one more time, and seeing something that must’ve reassured him, taking you through to the dining room for dinner.

“Can you tell me about Snata?” One of the toddlers, Romeo, asked. He climbed up beside you and Theo on the couch, uncaring of the meal you’d just stuffed yourselves with as he climbed over Theo, stepping on his stomach before sitting himself in your lap. Looking up at you expectantly, the three-year-old frowned at your stunned expression. “Satna.” He demanded, leaning in closer.

“It’s Santa, idiota.” Another small voice chimed in.

“Hey!” Theo scooped up the other boy, Aldo, and folded him into his arms tightly, shaking his head as the young boy squirmed in the hug and pushed a sticky hand against Theo’s jaw. “That’s not nice, you don’t call people that. Do you want La Befana to bring you presents tonight?”

“Sí.” He grumbled out with added an apology to his brother, and Theo nodded, ruffling his hair as the boy turned to look at you from his perch in his cousin’s lap. He stuck his thumb into his mouth, and leaned to rest his head on Theo’s chest as he prepared to listen. Another little hand landed on you arm, and you found Adriana, their sister, has settled herself in beside you.

“You want to know about Santa too?” You asked, and she nodded her head. You twisted to Theo, “Did you set this up?”

“Nope, this is all them.” He smiled, stretching his arm out along the back of the couch. “Maybe you still have some things to teach us after all.”

So, you settled in, with three small children which soon became four, then five, as you told them all the story of Santa Claus. They were particularly fond of the reindeers, although they weren’t sold on Rudolph, insisting that he must be very, very poorly if his nose is that red. You skirted carefully around the edges of their questions, trying hard not to ruin anything for them or encroach onto territory that might get them thinking a little too deeply and unravel their belief. Instead, you kept the magic alive, by spinning a tale instead of how Santa and La Befana work together to make sure all the children across the world get presents for Christmas Day.

Regardless, the children had taken to the story with wide-eyed excitement and enthusiasm you thought couldn't be conquered. That was, until they smelled hot chocolate in the air. Immediately leaping off of the couch with a new set of interests, they no longer cared to hear about who might bring presents tomorrow, but instead, who might have a treat right now.

You followed after them, back to the dining room where the table was now laid with teapots, coffees and small treats to enjoy for dessert. In the corner, Allessandra was handing out mugs of hot chocolate to the children, and Theo pressed a kiss to the side of your head as he came back to your side. He pressed a warm mug into your hands, and the smell drifted up to your nose, making you groan happily. Looking down, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Theo, what’s all this?” You brought the glass up, sniffling the fruity concoction, and he shrugged.

“This is a little piece of home for you, bella. I want you to be one hundred percent happy here. Your happiness is important to me, don’t you know that? You should’ve told you the moment you felt down, so that I could fix it. I hate seeing you upset.”

“I’m never upset when I’m with you. I just felt a little out of place, but I’m fine now.” You promised, and he seemed to believe you this time, you could see it in his eyes as he nodded.

Lifting the mug to your face, you blew slowly onto the steam rising up from it, and then you heard a cry; “Why is my favourite wine steaming?”

“Uncle Gio, just try it!” Theo insisted, nodding his head less than subtly in your direction, assuming you couldn't see him out of the corner of your eye. “It was my idea, and it happens to be… very nice.”

“It’s something I love, from home.” You interfered, ruling out Theo’s less than convincing attempt to persuade his family. Even as your cheeks heated when several sets of eyes fell on you, you didn’t feel rejected by them, just feeling their intrigue. “It really is good, I promise! It’s just not to everybody’s tastes.”

You nudged your hip against Theo’s who smirked as his shoulders rose and fell. After a lingering moment, his uncle caved and served himself a glass, his other relatives following suit. Soon, several murmured compliments to it were passing around the room, and you grinned up at Theo who was adamantly ignoring your attention.

“Well, well, well. Would you look at that? Your family likes it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, clearly they all hate it, and—”

“Hate what?” His cousin Lucia interrupted, Aria close behind. “This is a surprisingly nice way to enjoy wine,” She offered to you, “It’s better than spiking the coffee and getting shouted at by Nonna when you want a tipsy hot drink, that’s for sure.”

Theo rolled his eyes petulantly, and she tipped her head. “You disagree, Theo?”

“Oh, Theo hates my love for mulled wine. He won’t even kiss me after I’ve had any.” You joked, clutching the glass in your hand and letting the warmth seep through the porcelain and into your cold palms.

His aunts laughed, cooing over his frown as they all clutched their own glasses, enjoying the concoction he hated so abhorrently. Theo’s arm snaked around your middle, pulling you back against him. “Now, that’s just a little lie, isn’t it?”

His family grinned at him, turning away into their own conversation as he guided you away for a little more privacy. Tucking you away with himself into an empty corridor, the two of you made your way slowly through his home, to a little porch swing on the back terrace, looking out across snowy and frost covered grounds.

You settled in, tucking yourself under a blanket and covering his lap with it too, as his arm stretched out along the back, behind your body. “Now, how about those kisses, hm?”

“Are you sure you want to? I mean, I have been drinking this mulled—” Theo scoffed, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger before sealing his mouth over your own, effectively silencing you. His tongue traced a seam underneath your lip, licking away any remnants of the mulled wine and begging entry into your mouth.

You gave way, lips parting, the sweet and fruity taste of your drink mixing with the sugars of cookies still lingering on his tongue, and you groaned softly at the taste of him. His arm slipped down from the back of the bench to slide around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. Tilting his head to the side, Theo’s other hand slipped up your cheek, holding you so tenderly, and you shivered at the feeling of his cold fingers on your skin.

He pulled away, just to dive back in, dotting a series of kisses to your lips, each one you pressed into, returned with a smile or a giggle, until you finished, with your forehead pressed to his. Eyes closed and noses bumping, Theo sighed. His hand slipped down, over your neck and shoulder, to find your hand atop the blanket, and take it in his own.

“Listen, it’s not too late, maybe you could still get in touch with your family?”

“Theo,” You murmured, words sticking in your throat as you held them back.

“We could use my floo, we can call them and ask if you could stay, or maybe compromise, or something?”

“Teddy.” You pressed your free hand to his chest, right over his heart, and he deflated a little under your touch. He’d tried already, he’d been trying for weeks now to convince you to stay with him for the whole of the holidays, and he lifted his head, eyes shining a little as he pouted. A small bubble rose inside you, made of happiness and thrill and the lingering excitement of a surprise you weren’t ready to share yet. “Let’s just enjoy this moment for now, stop thinking about when it will end and just be here with me.”

He relented to your point, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, cuddled up together under the blanket with his hand in your hair. He pressed the occasional kiss to your forehead, using his foot to rock the swing back and forth slowly, sharing the glass of mulled wine between you both despite his supposed hatred for it. When it was empty, he left the glass balanced on the small side table, and took advantage of your new freedom of hands for more clingy cuddling.

Time disappeared around you both, until the clock inside the house began to chime, it's muffled tones making their way through the walls to you both outside, and you felt him stiffen underneath you.

“Do you really have to leave, already?” Theo whispered, as the clock behind you signalled the turn of the hour. His arms tightened around you a little more, his face pressing further into you, and you cuddled him back just as tightly. “What’s it going to take to convince you to stay?”

“You could kiss me again.” You bargained, and his lips flickered at the edges as he lowered his head, catching your mouth with his own in a tender kiss.

His lips dragged across yours sadly, desperately, too reluctant to part for even a breath because it would give you time to say you were leaving now, and he shifted himself. Using his weight to press you back into the edge of the swing, he made not-so-subtle attempts to keep you trapped, to stop you from leaving too soon.

At last, when the need for air became too much, he pulled back with a dismayed breath, and nudged his nose against yours. “I wish you’d stay. I hate saying goodbye.”

Wrapping an arm around his neck, you settled your other hand on his cheek, his eyes closing as he tipped his face further into your touch. Your thumb stroked across his skin, a slow sweep that he timed his exhale with, and a smile twitched on your face. “Ask me again.”

“Please stay.” He whispered, words hollow as he spoke them, and you lifted your head to peck his lips.

“Okay, Theo.”

His eyes snapped open, a confused expression twisting his face, and you failed to bite back your smile. “What?”

“I’ll stay. If you really want me to.”

“If I really— I thought your family wanted you to stay at home?” He questioned breathlessly, sitting back to get a better look at you.

“They did.” You shrugged, smoothing down your messy hair from the cuddle session you’d been entangled in. “But you’re my family too, and you want me here, so I chose you.”

His jaw dropped, a shaky breath slipping free, and his chin wobbled as he leaned in to press a series of needy and erratic kisses to your lips. “You’re really staying with me for Christmas?” His voice cracked, and he pulled you closer to him, tightening the blanket around you both as he moved until you were practically lay against his chest.

“If you still want me to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He muttered, tapping the tip of your nose, and staring at you with sparkling eyes. “Ti amo, mia bellissima ragazza.”

“I love you too, Teddy. Happy Christmas.”

“È un contento Natale adesso.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott/reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott/you #theo nott #slytherin boys #harry potter #theo nott x reader #theo nott/reader #theo nott x you #theo nott/you #lorenzo zurzolo #lorenzo zurzolo x you

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antinousletmehit · 1 month ago

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Apollo and his lover got into an argument which he regrets deeply but reader is very mad at him and won't forgive him easily.The whole Olympus tries to get them together because they're fed up with Apollo's sad love poets and songs.

୨୧┇Apollo x reader

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The great halls of Olympus were rarely silent. Gods bickered, muses sang, and the sound of nectar filled goblets clinking together echoed endlessly. But this particular week had been… different. It wasn’t the usual chorus of divine rivalry that filled the air. Instead, a melancholic voice, rich and golden, reverberated through the celestial mount, dragging everyone down with its relentless woe.

Apollo was heartbroken.

He sat on the steps of his golden temple, his lyre in hand, his head bowed as he sang yet another mournful ballad about his lover. She had refused to speak to him after a bitter argument, one involving—according to Hermes, who’d gleefully eavesdropped—a misunderstanding about Apollo’s ego and her need for space.

“I burn brighter than the sun itself,

But her light I cannot see.

Oh, cruel fates, to steal her love,

And leave her silence haunting me…”

“By the Styx, someone make him stop!” Hera groaned, massaging her temples as Apollo’s lament drifted into the great hall. “He’s been singing that same verse for three days straight.”

“And it’s getting worse,” Ares grumbled, leaning against his spear. “I’m this close to starting a war just to drown him out.”

Hestia, ever the voice of reason, frowned. “We can’t let him continue like this. He’s hurting.”

“And we’re suffering,” Poseidon interrupted, shaking his trident for emphasis. “Even my sea nymphs are complaining about hearing his sobs through the waves. My ocean, for gods’ sake.”

“Alright, everyone,” Athena said, standing up and raising a hand to silence the growing complaints. “Apollo’s our brother. He needs help. Instead of whining, let’s figure out how to fix this.”

“Fix it?” Hermes snorted, lounging on the armrest of her throne. “Good luck. The only thing that will shut him up is making up with his lover, and she won’t even look at him.”

Zeus, seated at the head of the hall, finally spoke. “Then we’ll have to make her listen.”

All eyes turned to him, surprise flickering across their faces. It wasn’t often that the King of the Gods intervened in romantic squabbles, but it was clear that even Zeus couldn’t endure another hour of Apollo’s sob songs.

“Who agrees?” Zeus asked, raising a commanding brow. One by one, every god and goddess in the room nodded. For once in their immortal lives, Olympus was united.

———-

The plan was set into motion that very evening. Each god took on a task, pooling their talents to create an elaborate display of apology that Apollo could deliver to his lover.

Aphrodite crafted a wreath of the finest roses, their petals shimmering like rubies under the starlight. “No mortal or immortal can resist the charm of my flowers,” she said smugly, twirling one between her fingers. Hephaestus forged a delicate necklace of golden threads, inlaid with tiny opals that shimmered with every color of the sky. Hermes wrote a letter, overflowing with poetic charm, and tucked it into a golden envelope. “This will sweep her off her feet,” he said, grinning. “No offense to Apollo, but I’ve got more flair for words.”

Even Dionysus contributed, brewing a wine so sweet and rich that a single sip could soothe the angriest heart. “Pair it with the necklace, and she’ll be wrapped around his finger,” he joked, handing the flask to Hera. Meanwhile, Athena and Artemis tried to coax Apollo into proper behavior. Artemis, his twin sister, stood before him with her arms crossed. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” she said bluntly. “If you want her back, stop singing about how miserable you are and do something about it.”

Apollo looked up from his lyre, his face streaked with golden tears. “But what if she doesn’t forgive me? What if I’ve lost her forever?” Athena placed a hand on his shoulder. “She loves you, Apollo. That doesn’t vanish overnight. But love requires effort, not just poetry. Show her you’re willing.”

For the first time in days, Apollo nodded, determination flickering in his sun bright eyes.

The following day, Apollo, armed with the gifts and a newfound resolve, approached his lover’s dwelling. The other gods watched from afar, peering through enchanted pools and reflective clouds, each silently praying their efforts would end the wailing. Apollo took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When she opened it, her expression was guarded, her gaze flicking to the bouquet, the necklace, and the letter clutched in his trembling hands.

“What do you want, Apollo?” she asked, her voice cool.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you. I’ve spent days singing about how much I miss you, but Athena reminded me that words mean nothing without action. So I’m here.”

She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. Back in the halls of Olympus, the gods watched as Apollo disappeared inside her home.

“Do you think it worked?” Hermes asked.

Artemis smirked, her arms crossed. “If it didn’t, he’ll be back here wailing in an hour.”

But the hour passed, and there was no wailing. Then another hour. And another.

At last, Zeus leaned back in his throne, a satisfied grin on his face. “Finally.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, peace returned to Olympus. And while they’d never admit it, the gods secretly congratulated themselves on the success of their rare, united effort.

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #apollo epic the musical #apollo x reader #apollo #greek mythology x reader #greek mythology

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kissforyouu · 1 year ago

Text

97 / jjk

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : smut , fluff

warning : back riding 🤭 , missionary , NAILS digging into his back , rough sex , masturbation , he watches her , switch!reader , switch!jk , name calling , p*ssy spanking

a/n : BACKKK!! hai :) this was kinda rushed but i hope u liked it 😭😭

unedited.

You want him so bad.

Your eyes stare at him, your boyfriend — God, your amazing hot boyfriend whom you love so so much — who was making himself a cup of coffee. Jungkook was shirtless and only in a pair of sweatpants. He knows that this type of outfit makes you go crazy, and that's exactly what you're feeling right now.

You doubt he did it on purpose though, he's usually shirtless at home and plus, he's been very busy lately. Very busy as in barely finding time for you busy. True, you did find it annoying, very annoying. But you also understood what he's currently going through.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you watch your boyfriend place a small kiss on your temple before going back to your shared room. He was currently working on a few work matters and busy of course.

You form a pout, staring at the pathway leading to your shared room as your nails tapped on the cushion on the sofa. Your train of thoughts end up on how Jungkook's big broad back looked. His shoulders wide, back muscles and biceps stretching whenever he moved his upper body. Jungkook had a muscular body, everyone knew that, but oh god his back and arms made you want to salivate.

Please you just want to claw your nails onto his back while he ruins your cunt rough.

Without even realising, you had been scratching the sofa with your nails, your mind imagining it's his back. Your thighs were obviously pressed onto eachother, trying to reduce the feeling of the small heat forming between them. Please not now, Jungkook's working!!!! You think.

Your eyes wonder around the room, trying to stop yourself from just getting up and fleeing to your room to beg Jungkook to take time off of work and spend it on you instead. But the pool between your legs just continues to grow.

You give up. You're up on your feet now, making your way to your shared bedroom. Pushing the door open, you see your boyfriend laying on his chest with his computer on the bed. He was shirtless and his back was fully exposed, giving you a perfect opportunity to just go sit on it.

His eyes shift to you, an immediate smile forming on his lips.

You walk inside the room, getting on the bed as you land a big fat kiss on his cheek. Jungkook giggles in return, his adorable bunny smile showing. You continue pecking his cheek over and over again, having a giggling man next to you in return. You move forward to press a few kisses on his temple, hand flying to grasp his hair so you could turn his head to wherever you wanted.

"Hmm? Want something?" Jungkook asks. He knew what was up.

"You." Bold.

Jungkook chuckles, his tongue wetting his lower lip. You look at the exposed mole under his lips as you place a small peck on it.

"Please. I want you."

"Mhm? That bad?"

"Yes, that bad."

"I'm working, baby."

You immediately groan, your shoulders falling down to the bed. But that was until you got an idea.

"No, you don't have to do anything."

"What do you mean?"

"Want to try something new."

Jungkook raises his brow, looking at you, waiting for you to tell him what it was. But you never say anything back, instead sitting up on the bed as you climb over to sit on his back.

"Baby—"

"Shhh."

You run your fingers through his hair a few times, knowing how much is soothes him. He hums, eyes closing to relax onto his touch.

You look at the mirror in front of you, looking at the way his arms flex as he is supporting his body up by his arms. Fuck, your boyfriend is so hot.

You twirl a strand of his hair, leaning down to press a kiss on the nape of his neck. You trail your kisses down his spine, feeling the heat in between your legs pool even more. You sit back on his back, feeling your clit land directly on his back. You feel your pussy clench around literally nothing. Fuck.

Jungkook stays silent watching everything you're doing through the mirror.

You get off of him for a moment to take your shorts off to be left with only your baby blue lace panties.

Jungkook bites his lower lip, eyes glued to the evident wet patch on your panties.

"Fuck, did I make you that wet, baby?" He groans.

"Yes, you did"

You sit back on his back with a small giggle, hands caressing his shoulder blades as you slowly start to circle your clit on his back.

Jungkook feels it, immediately letting out a groan. He looks surprised, but he should know better, you always liked to surprise him.

"Shit, this was what was on your pretty little head? My dirty slut."

"Mmhm"

Your pace was slow, you were taking your time with him. Slow, sensual and teasing. Jungkook's eyes were glued to your body through the mirror. Your breasts were squished in your tight little tube top, bouncing everytime your body slightly moved.

"It feels good..." you sigh, fingers running through Jungkook's hair as your clothed pussy continued to gently grind against your boyfriend's back.

Jungkook's eyes never left your body. He felt dumbfounded. It was so hot, you were so fucking hot and he could not get enough of you. You were bold and you always knew your needs. And you always made sure you had your way one or another. He loved that about you.

"Shit..." you circle your hips on a specific spot, your middle finger slipping inside your soaked panties to touch yourself. You press onto your nub, arching your back so that your crotch is laying fully on his back.

Jungkook's jaw drops at the sight, eyes wide.

"Baby, you're gonna make me go crazy" He breaths out.

Letting out a low chuckle, you jokingly punch the top of his head lightly.

"Don't you have work to do, hmm?"

Before he could answer you, you start circling your middle finger on your nub, slightly tugging onto the skin of your lower lip.

"Ah, fuck."

To Jungkook, your moans sounded angelic. It was his favourite thing to hear, ever. He could literally just get off to the sound of only your moans, he's even confessed that before.

He hums, gulping down his saliva down his throat.

You pull your fingers out, covered in your arousal, you guide them upto his lips. Jungkook happily wraps his lips around your fingers, taking in the taste of your arousal. He devours it, tongue swirling around your fingers to make sure he's gulped down every drop.

Fuck, you swear the sight just made you even wetter.

"You're so good for me, Kook"

He releases your fingers with a pop as you retrieve them back.

Jungkook groans back, already missing the feeling of you in his mouth.

You lean forward to pamper his face with a few more kisses, your hands massaging his shoulders.

Without a warning, Jungkook suddenly flips you over so that your back is pressed onto the bed with his body hovering over you.

You quite literally moan at the sight. He was so big. Big, everywhere. Jungkook's broad shoulders tower over you, his muscular arms caging you between his thighs.

"Pretty..." He murmers, fingers twirling one of your curls around.

"Hm?" You hum.

You spread your legs wide for him to see the clear wet patch on your panties, your clit aching to be touched. Jungkook meanwhile loved every second of your desperate little attitude. He took in everything. The way your hair laid sprawled on the bed, a few curls here and there on your shoulders, your top halfway riled down with almost all of your breasts spilling out and panties oh so obviously drenched.

He bites his lower lip as he looks at the small pout forming on your lips. Jungkook coos, lifting your chin up with his fingers as his hand immediately wraps around your throat. He chokes you, not too hard but definitely hard enough to let you gain pleasure from it.

You let out a small groan, focusing on the tightening feel on your throat. And before you expected it, Jungkook's hand lands a small spank on your pussy. Then another, another, another, another and another. Each spank make you want another more, and honestly, you just wanted him to touch you. You didn't care where but as long as he had his hands on you, you were content with it.

Your breath hitches once you feel him slide your soaked panties to the side, exposing your sweet pussy to the cold air. Jungkook grins, fingers coming in contact with your folds to spread your arousal around.

You whimper, watching him just play with your cunt. He touches you the way he likes. He makes sure to take his time with you, teasingly rubbing you here and there but never fastening his pace nor trying to get you to come.

It's torture in a way, but you didn't care, just needed him to touch you.

His fingers almost enter you. Ane oh god, he's driving you crazy.

Jungkook pulls his fingers away from you heat to lick them clean as he also releases your throat. He spits on palm to land his palm right on top of your glistening pussy to smear it all around again.

Shit. He made you beyond horny.

You run your fingers up and down his chest and torso in the meantime, eyes fixed on his hard boner. Jungkook's hands leave your body for a moment, causing you to whine at the loss - but he gets back to you asap with his cock now sprung out, standing tall and hard.

The sight just made you salivate even more.

You were so ready to sit up and just gobble his cock down, but Jungkook clearly had other plans as he pushes back you back on the bed with a chuckle the moment you sit up on the bed to take his cock into your hands.

"You're so impatient and needy, ____"

You groan - annoyed - but also sort of embarrassed at him pushing you back. It shows how much power he has over you, mentally and physically.

He grabs hold of both your legs and hoists them up, pulling you a bit closer to his body so that your thighs meet his.

Jungkook looks so good like this in this position. Hovering over you, your lower body pressed onto his, cock sprung out and leaking with pre cum.

The corner of his lips curl into a smirk, his hand grabbing his cock to jerk himself a little. You watch him attentively, jaw fallen down which makes Jungkook let out a small snortle.

You both were so so whipped for eachother.

Jungkook sighs at the pleasure, feeling himself harden even more. He passes his thumb over the leaking head, smearing his pre cum around. He gives himself a final pump, letting his cock go with a sigh.

You wait for him to touch you again, patiently, eyes showing eagerness. Jungkook guides his cock to your entrance, making sure to tease you even more by guiding the head of his cock everywhere but your entrance.

You still stay silent, not minding the teasing at all. Again, you just wanted him to touch you. That itself was enough. You really were that needy.

Once Jungkook finally decides to cut the act and push himself in. You gasp, feeling his length in you, stretching your walls out a bit. Fuck, it felt so good, and he wasn't even fully inside yet.

You close your eyes, letting Jungkook take full control over you. His hands caress your ass cheeks, softly pushing himself inside. He's been inside you way too many times, but you never adjust to his size. He's not too big, but he's big enough for you and oh god if he got any bigger than this, you would quite literally split in half.

Once he's fully in, he taps your hips, asking whether you want him to start thrusting inside.

You groan, hand on your tummy.

"Fuck, just fuck me!"

Jungkook laughs, immediately starting to move his hips. His thrusts start animalistic from the start, fucking me with no mercy. He doesn't give me time to get used to his thrusts, but continues to fuck me for his own pleasure. I liked it so much.

He maintained his phase, hands holding your legs apart to make sure they don't close. Your hair was a mess and your arms were thrown over your head, lips in between your teeth as you let Jungkook take full control in fucking you.

Your body was his to love, touch, fuck.

The sounds you made weren't the screaming type of loud, but they certainly weren't inaudible either. It was perfect.

You whine as Jungkook lean down to burry his face in your neck. This way, he can find a better angle and also it was comfortable for him.

"Ah! Ah!" Your moans and the sound of skin slapping echoes through the room. Your nails were digging onto Jungkook's back, scratching it whenever he hits that one spot.

You were so sure that there were marks left by now. You expect to see scratches all over Jungkook's back after. He enjoyed it as well. He enjoyed looking at the marks caused by your nails on his back.

"Kook, you're fucking me so good, baby! Don't stop, don't stop—"

You moan out loud, nails digging onto his muscles more.

"Yeah? Right here?" He circles his hips around this specific spot that made you clench around him repeatedly.

You let out a long moan, eyes squeezed shut.

"Fuck! Kook, I'm cumming..!"

Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm, moaning with you once he feels your cum coating his cock.

He continues to slam into your pussy, a white string of cum attaching your pussy and the tip of his cock once he pulls out. Jungkook moans at the sight of your swollen pussy, completely ruined and red, glistening with your cum.

Without wasting another second, his hand jerks himself off and spills his load all over your stomach, some even landing on your breast.

His cock hangs low, softening by seconds while you and him catch your breaths.

Jungkook's hair was sticking onto his forehead, his body golden - glistening with sweat.

He huffs, touching his hair to make sure they're parted. Jungkook leans down to place a little kiss on your lips, another, then another.

"Satisfied?"

"Yes."

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #smut #bts #bts jk #bts smut #fanfiction #fanfic #explict

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