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kookslastbutton · 9 months

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in your arms ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: You wake up next to your boyfriend for the first time since moving in with him.

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

AU/Genres: pwp, smut, fluff, established relationship, one shot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 1,680

Warnings: cussing, jk teasing oc, soft pouty jk, of is restless sleeper which makes jk lowkey sad, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, morning s*x, kind of rough s*x, unprotected s*x (Don't be like them!) , d*try talk, m*ssionary, b*gging, b**b kink?, sl*t calling once (tame)

Now Playing: A Thousand Years

A/N: needed dometic koo after listening to piano guys play thousand years. I have not seen Twilight but I like the sound track lol. Hope you enjoy! 💞

"You snore." Is the first thing he says to you, eyeing you from the other side of the bed. He's downright adorable with half his face tucked behind the fluffy comforter.

"I do?" You roll on your side. The soft linen brushing against your skin reminds you of your bare state. Last night was the first time you spent the night at Jungook's since moving in. He was a little eager to get you in his bed to say the least.

Jungkook nods in response, eyes still barely peaking out from the covers.

"But...I don't." You smile sheepishly. Many things you're known for doing in bed but snoring was not one of them. You're sure of it. "I definitely don't," you repeat in disbelief. "You're being a little shit again aren't you?"

A grin slowly spreads on your boyfriend's face—his eyes revealing all. What a menace as always. His playful spirit makes you giggle.

"Did you sleep okay?" You yawn and rub your tired eyes.

Jungkook shimmies himself closer to you. His nose is inches away from your the nape of your neck. "No," he says. "You were so far away from me the whole night."

The comforter he was tugging on earlier is now folded under his arm. From this angle, you can trace every muscle on his inked arm, so you do, with the tips of your fingers. "I'm sorry koo, I'm such a restless sleeper. I didn't kick you did I?"

Since a child you've never been able to sleep in one position. You were always starfishing, flopping from side to side, or genuinely just in the twistiest pretzel-like positions possible. Now and then you'd punch or knee at the bed too, depending how vivid the dream you were having was. That's why for the majority of your life you've slept alone.

Jungkook on the otherhand could sleep anywhere in the same position. All he needed was a good grip on his blankets or in this case, you, and he'd fall fast alseep until the morning. But you were not an easy one to snuggle with, causing him to pout until all hours of the night.

"I'm okay, but can we try cuddling or spooning again tonight? Wanna fall asleep with the girl of my dreams in my arms." Your heart does about ten somersaults. Ever since you hit 6 months, Jungkook's been begging you to move in with him and now that you've finally agreed, he's been coordinating your new living conditions down to the last detail.

He's also stopped refering to the apartment as his—it's now our apartment, our haven, our home.

You remove your hand from his arm to fluff through his messy hair. Something about the silky texture makes you unable to stop yourself. Jungkook likes it too. "Of course we can." Your face drops a few shades. "But I'm not sure if it'll be any different from last night. I might hurt you."

In that very moment your boyfriend props himself up on an elbow and leans himself over your body just enough for you to fall on your back. "No you won't," he insists. The same inked arm curls around your waist, pushing your chests together. "I'll hold ya down this time."

Your cheeks warm up from the gesture.

"What's got you blushing doll?"

"Just that you're everything I was hoping for and more." You wrap both arms around his neck, his lips ghosting over yours. "I love you so much." It's hardly a whisper but Jungkook has no trouble hearing.

"You know I was thinking similar," he says, placing a light kiss to the side of your neck. You hum. This will likely be a regular occurrence now that it's Jungkook you'll be waking up to every morning. His affection knows no bounds.

"You're all mine," he continues, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. Even with the blankets shielding your naked body from his, you feel every imprint of his touch. "I'm all yours, too. And even if you do end up kicking me in your sleep, I'll alway be back for more because I'm in love with you....just try not to kick my dick though, that would kinda be a bummer for both of us." He shoots a quick wink and you snort.

"Sorry," you cover part of your face. "That was so ugly of me." Jungkook's heard you snort a thousand times but you've still a little self conscious about it.

"Its cute."

"Stop, you dont have to say that."

"It's cute because I like making you laugh and seeing you happy make—"

"Makes you horny." You finish the sentence, cackling at his suddenly doe-eyed expression. "I can feel your erection on my thigh Kook."

"Oh," he looks down at himself. Did he think he was being smooth and all trying to hide it and all? You're boyfriend's cute but a good liar he is not. "Well can I stick it in or not?" He looks at you again, expectanty.

"Kook!" You just had sex last night and to be honest you're a little sore from it as well as flopping around in your sleep all night.

Jungkook however is imposible to refuse with his pouty lips and big, ferocious eyes. He simultaneously wants to cuddle you to death and fuck you silly every second of the day. You ask him which he wants to do, he will always want both....at least twice in one go.

"I'll make it quick, promise. And it'll feel good too."

Once you give the okay Jungkook climbs on top of you from under the sheets. You spread your thighs, allowing him to slip in—which he easily does given the fact that he wasn't the only one all worked up.

"Fuck," he breaths above you, hands gripping the mattress on either side of your head. "Such a perfect pussy you know that? Always so wet for me."

"Yes Kook," you let out a small whine. Jungkook's dick always makes you so full so fast. "Fuck me."

"You want it huh?" He teases even though it's him who started this. "You want my big cock to stretch your tiny pussy? Make you scream? Say you want it baby. Need to hear it from you."

You concede to your boyfriend and tell him how much you want it. "Mhm please, need your cock Kook. Want it so bad, want it to make me come, please."

"Greedy little thing aren't you," he seethes, thrusting into you at a slow pace. "Just got fucked three times last night and still want more. What does that make you hm?"

"A slut." Jungkook growls when the words leave your lips. He ends up fucking into you faster, loving the sight of your breasts bounce up and down at the quickened pace. You move to grip onto both boobs but he growls again, letting you know his obvious disapproval.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he grunts. "And don't you dare think about covering yourself up. Wanna see every bit of you."

You do as he says and he sinks further in you, cock finding that sweet spot at the same time. "Fuckfuckfuck," he chants. "So needy aren't you? Swallowing my cock like it's nothing for your pussy. Who taught you how to take cock this well huh?"

"Jungkook!" You scream when you feel the knot get stronger in the pit of your stomach. You boyfriend smirks and starts kissing up and down your neck.

"Say it again. Who taught you to take cock this well?"

"You—you Jungkook, you did. Please, gonna come soon." You claw his muscular back, knowing your high is about to come swift and fast. You hope to god he lets you come too. Last night he made you wait and wait. You had to keep begging him until he was fully satisfied. You squirted a lot and it was hot but you can't do that again so soon.

"Come for me baby," he coos. "Show me what I taught you back when all you knew how to do was give head. Gonna soak my cock now aren't you? I'm already so wet from your slick, fuck."

"Jungkook—oh god," you moan one last time before finally releasing. Your boyfriend let's out a deep, breathy groan and continues to thrust into for the sake of his own high. "Kook, please, please tell me you're close. It's almost too much."

"Shit just hold tight for me a little longer baby, I'm so close." He fucks into a few more times then spills himself into your warm cunt. You both bask in post-orgasmic blish until your boyfriend leans his head down to capture your lips. It's a bit of a sloppy kiss but still fiery and passionate.

He slips off you after a minute or two of making out, hair sticking to his forehead. "I'm so glad you said yes to moving in."

"What? You just want me here for the sex?" You pant, playful glimmer in your eye.

Jungkook shakes his head. "Of course not." You move to rest your head on his shoulder. "The sarcasm's nice too."

You roll your eyes. You'll be doing this all over again tonight. Maybe he'll be able to keep you in his arms tonight this time—you truly hope.

A/N: thanks for reading! Lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfics #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #fic:inyourarms #kookslastbutton

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hornedqueenofhell · 8 months

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Shared Interests Pt. 1

“...and that’s where we will be ending things for tonight!” Eddie says, clapping his hands together and leaning back in his chair while the children cry foul.

“We’ve only been going for three hours!”

“We didn’t even do anything except go shopping!”

“But what about the tip we just got to find Lolth’s lair?”

Eddie’s expression darkens and he smacks his hand on the table to shut everyone up, “We will continue with all of that next time but tonight Steve and I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Will asks, he’s the calmest of all of them and generally enjoys hearing about Eddie and Steve being happy in their relationship.

“Stevie is taking me to a baseball game.” Eddie replies and Mike and Dustin explode.

“You’re ditching Hellfire for a sports game?! What the fuck man?” Mike shouts, almost sweeping his things off the table with his arms flailing about so wildly.

“Language” Eddie says before getting a thousand yard stare briefly as he realizes the words that just came out of his mouth. Christ, Steve really was rubbing off on him… in more ways than one.

“So you can tell us to just go find a replacement instead of rescheduling but when you decide to take the night off we just have to deal?” Dustin bites out causing Eddie’s eyes to snap to him and then briefly dart over to Lucas.

Eddie had apologized profusely from his hospital bed, even before Steve had chewed him out for replacing Lucas with his sister. He knew Lucas still felt a bit wary around him when he got manic, which was understandable after everything he'd been through. They had been doing better though, Eddie would rather die than admit it but Lucas had good relationship advice. And he spoke jock so Eddie could ask him for things to say to impress Steve, usually it just made his boyfriend laugh but Eddie still counted it.

“Why a baseball game?” Lucas asks, Eddie turns to him and scrubs a hand through his hair.

“Because Steve likes the Cubs.” It had been the primary source of bonding between Steve and Wayne, both of them finally happy to have someone to talk about sports with.

“So?” Mike is looking at Eddie like he doesn’t recognize the older man anymore.

“Because couples generally like spending time together?” He’s not sure where the confusion here is.

Dustin scoffs, “Steve already goes to your shows and hangs out during d&d, how much more time do you two need to spend together?” Mike nods in agreement but Lucas has a small smile now and Eddie reaches out to squeeze his shoulder and ruffle his hair with a grin.

“Boys, what do those two things have in common that me seeing a baseball game with your babysitter doesn’t?” he asks as Lucas bats his hand away.

“Your things are actually cool?” Mike

“They’re in Hawkins?” Dustin

“They’re Eddie’s hobbies.” Lucas for the win! At Eddie’s confirming nod the other two turn to Lucas looking confused.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Lucas sighs at Mike and pats Will’s shoulder consolingly. His friend really needs a better guy to crush on. “And this is why El is done with your ass dude. You gotta share in your partner’s hobbies too man. Steve goes to Eddie’s shows even though he’s not a fan of metal because he likes Eddie. It wouldn’t be fair to Steve if Eddie wasn’t willing to do the same.��

“It definitely doesn’t make your partner feel good when you just dismiss their interests.” Eddie fidgets with his rings as his eyes drop to the table. He knew that he wasn’t used to relationships, Steve being his first boyfriend ever, and learning the hard way that compromise was a very necessary thing had been a difficult concept to wrap his head around at first. He’d complained about Steve trying to invite him to ‘normie’ events or playing his music until Steve, tired of feeling like Eddie didn’t actually care about him, told him that maybe they were better off seeing other people.

Eddie had reacted poorly and it wasn’t until his bandmates called him out when he’d tried to complain to them about their fight that he’d figured it out. He still wasn’t a fan of baseball but seeing Steve light up as he’d explained to Eddie why everyone was cheering about a specific player or hit made sitting through the games more than worth it. And Steve wrapping Eddie up in his members only jacket in the parking lot before sneaking a little kiss hadn’t been too bad either.

So they would go see the occasional home game, season tickets being one of the ‘expensive presents definitely make up for the fact we’re shitty parents’ gifts Steve got for a Christmas present last year. Or sometimes when Eddie has a game or just isn’t feeling social Steve will take Wayne and Eddie gets the trailer to himself for several hours. He can take a nice long shower, practice voices for his campaigns, make himself a snack while naked in the kitchen. Or go to Steve’s and cook him something nice for dinner then head upstairs and open himself up on his boyfriend's bed before pulling out a book and waiting for Steve to get back and rail him through the mattress.

"So what, you're going to sit at a baseball game and just pretend to be interested in it so you can score points with some washed up jock?"

"First off Wheeler, check the fucking attitude. I don't know what it is with you and your sister that you think you can just say the most awful things about Steve and face no repercussions but I will absolutely ban you if you don't start treating Steve with some basic human decency. Second off, I don't have to like baseball, it’s the same way with Steve not being super into my music. We are very different people so we sometimes struggle to find common ground, and when our interests don't line up we have to find ways to make it work. Because, as I'm still figuring out, that's kind of a big part of being in a healthy relationship."

Pt 2

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

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ghouljams · 2 months

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Sin Summer (Soap) Rating: E(MDNI) Word Count: 2.7k Tags: Soap x f!Reader, tinder au, oral (m and f!receiving), throat fucking, messy sex, masturbation, breath play, D/s dynamic, public play, spit play, piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, pussy slapping, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them Summary: Six days ago you were in Glasgow, it's really not a big deal. Part 2

(Six days ago, Glasgow)

“Cannae say ya been to Scotland if ya don’ have a few tablets.” John tells you as you stare at the sort of caramel colored cube he handed you. He’s got a whole bag of them tucked in his pocket. You shrug and bite into the cube, it’s sweet, very sweet. Sweet enough to make your teeth hurt a little, so you pop the whole thing in your mouth and enjoy the way the sugar melts on your tongue. “Good yeah?” You nod, and he passes you another.

So far this is one of your more tame tinder dates. You’re more of a late evening kind of adventurer, but John had insisted on taking you out proper. Something about making sure you were properly wooed before he started “in on you”. Makes you feel a little like you’re going to get murdered, but he assured you he’d lose his commission if he did anything that stupid. So here you are, being shown around town and treated to all sorts of goodies. Properly wooed.

This guy’s gotta be a freak.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask, taking in the scenery of the city.

“Dinner, drinks” John hums, “chains, whips.”

“Seriously?” You laugh.

“Awright,” John laughs, “No chains an’ whips, I’ll stick with mah hands.” You bump your shoulder against him and he loops an arm around you.

“I’m all yours, as long as it’s fun.” You tell him, playing into his joke. You’re a sucker for a pretty face, always have been, and it makes your cheeks heat to meet those angel blue eyes and crooked smile. John tugs you a little closer against his side, squeezes you tight so it’s hard to walk. It makes you giggle, and lets you feel all the lovely muscle he’s hiding under his pull-over.

“Never had any complaints,” He brags, “but I won’t treat ya too rough.” You laugh when he presses a wet smacking kiss to your temple, pushing at his face to get him off. He lets you go only long enough to swat your ass, grabbing your hips and pulling you back against him as soon as you swear. The sting is perfect, not enough through your jeans, but promising.

“My safe word’s applesauce,” You joke. John’s low hum, his eyes lidding as he looks you over, makes you think he’s not joking.

“Practice it for me, pet,” He half orders, and your mouth goes dry. He pulls on dominance with just a roll of his shoulders. No shit this guy’s military, every inch of him commands respect. He grips your chin with his fingers when you take too long, moving your jaw for you. “Applesauce,” He coos, “say it.”

“Ap-” You clear your throat, resist the urge to lick your lips, “applesauce.”

“Stick out your tongue,” He tips your head back as you open your mouth and show him your tongue. Someone passes you on the street, their voice as they talk on their phone barely reaches you except to drop heat into the pit of your stomach. John spits on your tongue in the middle of a busy street and your skin blazes with heated shame. “Swallow,” His voice vibrates through you and settles with a burst between your legs, you close your mouth and swallow thickly, opening again to show him you’re empty. John smiles, tips your head one way then the other to inspect. “Good girl,” He coos, and you could melt right there.

“Maybe we skip dinner,” You mumble. John drags his thumb against your lips, leaning back to force you to lean more heavily against him. You don’t think you could even keep yourself standing if it weren’t for his firm grip.

His smile is blinding, you have to blink to keep your eyes focused on him, but his voice drips low like honey down your spine, “That’s what take-away’s for.”

“Be better if I had a proper leash,” John hums, looping his belt around your neck, “Doesn’t have the same yank to it.” He pulls the end of the leather hard, the thick metal buckle snapping tight against your neck. It’s a fun sort of pull towards him that makes you want to pull back, the squeeze around your neck evenly distributed across the leather to be only slightly uncomfortable. “Green pet?” He asks and you give a thumbs up.

“Green sir,” The words drag pleasantly against your tongue, been a while since you had anyone fun to play with, “Not my first time doing this.”

“Alright then, on your back, head over the edge.” John directs, nodding towards the bed. His grip on the belt loosens enough that you can pull the end from his fingers as you get settled. Normally you consider stripping part of the fun, but for now you’re thankful John had you get undressed before he started collaring you.

You tip your head back, arms on either side of you, fingers twisting into the sheets, and open your mouth. You know the drill. John laughs, and leans to grab his belt again. The dark leather in his tight fist is attractive, and the gentle pressure on your neck makes your head spin. Not choking you, not yet, but the threat is there. John unbuttons his pants tugging his cock free. Shower, you think. He’s big, but still only half hard. It doesn’t matter when he feeds you his cock, easing into your mouth as you lave your tongue against the head. You reach up with your hand to grip the base of his cock, and he pulls the belt tight.

“No hands pet,” He warns, and you slide your hand up his stomach instead. Card your fingers through the dark curls leading up to his belly button, tracing the lines of his abs with careful purpose as you swallow around his cock. The belt loosens and you open your mouth a little wider. John pulls back, and you swirl your tongue around his head, sucking hard at the sensitive glans.

You can feel his cock stiffening with each shallow thrust into your mouth, warming you up for the main event. You suck greedily at him, never let it be said you don’t give a mean blow job. You worship his cock as best you can. You stroke your tongue over his length, hollowing your cheeks to encourage him deeper. You can feel the muscles under your fingers holding back, but you wish they wouldn’t. John works himself deeper with every roll of his hips, testing your gag reflex until he’s satisfied you can take him.

He pushes into your mouth, his hard cock stretching out your throat with a pleasant burn. You do your best to swallow the discomfort, dragging your tongue over his length as best you can. He stops there, his cock down your throat and his balls knocking against your nose. He invades your senses, the smell of his sweat and musk filling your nose with each breath, your eyes starting to water from the angle, you scratch his stomach, trying to find something to hold onto. You feel him lean into the touch. Then the sharp sting of him slapping your clit. You squeal, the noise muffled by the cock in your throat, and scramble to get away from the feeling, which only pushes you further onto his dick.

John hits you again and you can’t do anything but twitch. The belt around your throat tightens warningly, and you whimper around him. His hand rubs down between your legs and drags slick up over your aching clit. He slaps you three times in rapid succession, each one harder than the last. Your eyes roll a little, and you take a sharp breath. Again you’re made dizzy by the smell of him, masculine enough to tickle your nose.

“Getting all worked up over a few slaps,” John tuts, clicking his tongue as his fingers rub over your cunt, “look how wet you are for me already.” You whine around his cock, feel it drag out of your throat and over your tongue as he pulls his hips back. You lick his length desperately when he leaves your mouth, kissing his cock between breaths. He rocks his hips against your lips, smearing your spit over your face. You tip your head a little more to catch his balls as he moves, sucking at the sensitive skin and dragging your tongue through the wiry curls.

“Proper slag,” He groans, you can feel his fingers wrap around his cock, his strokes bumping your chin, “givin’ my balls a spit shine, while I abuse your pretty pussy.”

You make an affirmative noise, opening your mouth wide to suck one of his balls into your mouth. Your eyes do roll at the next smack, and you can hear John groaning as you moan around him. The spark of the slaps is starting to drip out of you, your cunt clenching with each strike. The noise is different too quick, your wetness smeared eagerly over your pussy with each rub of John’s hand. It’s not enough for you. Your stomach tight and hot without the trigger to send it over the edge.

You give John’s balls a final kiss, enjoying the spit that sticks to your mouth as you pull away. “Make me gag,” You beg, licking at John’s fingers as he strokes his cock, “please.” The belt tightens again, too quick for you to think what you’re saying wrong. John’s fingers hook in your cunt, tugging at your pussy and tilting your hips for himself. You shiver, do your best to breath while darkness fuzzes your vision. Your head swims, pleasantly warm, as your carotids are squeezed. “Please, sir.” You amend, though you’re not sure you want to.

“There you go,” John mumbles, the belt loosening as the man pulls back to push into your waiting mouth with one solid motion. You gag, constricting unpleasantly around his cock. You feel the rush of spit in your mouth, the drool you can’t swallow down that drips out over your lips with each thrust of his cock. You moan around him, grinding your clit against the heel of his hand. John clicks his tongue again, and the sound shudders through you. All hot and heady.

He spanks your cunt raw as he fucks your throat, and you feel all the tightness in your stomach unwind like the snap of a rubberband. Orgasm shivers up your spine, and you feel yourself flutter around emptiness. It’s wet and warm, and John doesn’t stop just because your legs are shaking. You writhe against the bed, your feet scrambling for purchase. It hurts, it’s too much. You smack John’s stomach and he stills. Your stomach flips as his hand stops its assault, only for his come to flood your throat. You gag again, and swallow desperately.

It’s not worth it, he pulls out to paint your face. His come hits your tongue, then your chin, then over your chest. You don’t bother swallowing the drool and come that he leaves in your mouth, letting it drip out of your mouth and over your cheeks.

John pulls you up off the edge of the bed by his makeshift leash and you attempt to get your libs to work while your brain is trying to play catchup. “On your knees,” He orders you, and you flop forward onto the bed. You push your hips up, feel John knock your knees further apart, his fingers pushing into your pussy. You flinch away from the feeling and he pulls you right back. “Color?” He hums, twisting his fingers against your sweet spot.

“Green,” You moan, trying to avoid coming on his fingers immediately. You’re too sensitive from the spanking, clenching on his fingers as soon as he starts thrusting them into you. If John’s opening you up he certainly doesn’t take his time with it. His thrusts are quick and targeted, his fingers hitting your sweet spot until you feel a gush of wetness slick them. His hand leaves you and you do your best to keep your hips up. “Fuck,” you groan against the sheets, “please-” The rest of your sentence is lost with the feeling of his cock pressing against you.

You push back against it, feeling the nudge of it as it pushes against your entrance. Thick and tempting. John holds still for you, lets you try and pop him inside before his hips snap against you and you gasp, tightening around his cock immediately. You close your eyes and press your messy face against the bed. Fuck he feels good, stretches you just enough to feel it.

The drag of his cock against your walls is warm and rough, he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You love when they do that. Makes the slight ache of being fucked hard that much better. He hits something deep and zappy in your stomach. You let out a tight whine, and press back into the feeling, trying to get him to do it again.

“Know how to make me feel good, don’t you slag.” John rumbles, his voice rough and deep. You nod, feel the wetness on your face dragging over the sheets. John pulls the belt tight, forces you to arch your back as you lift your head, “Can’t hear ya’,” He coos, “I said-”

“Yes,” You moan, the ‘ss’ pulling long and fricative as he fucks you at a brutal pace, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Fuckin’ pleasure to use,” John’s voice fuzzes in your brain, your eyes unfocused as you stare at the wall over the headboard, “take my cock so well.” The smack of his thighs against yours hurts, his balls knocking against your already abused clit tick the tight heat in your stomach a little tighter with each thrust.. He’s bigger than you, stronger the way he pulls you back with just a belt. You clench on his cock, another gush of slick easing his thrusts. “Just like that, pretty little cunt, fuck am gonna come.”

You push back against his cock, feel his thrusts grow erratic as his pace speeds up. He comes with a sharp intake of breath, and lets go of the belt to let you fall onto the bed again. You shiver against the sheets, and try to catch your breath as he pulls out. Fuck. You didn’t come. You’re still wound up for a third.

You shove a hand between your legs and rub at your clit. “You’re jokin’,” John gapes. You ignore him, rocking against your fingers as you finally feel yourself cross the edge. You let out a shaky breath as your stomach jumps, your pussy fluttering and your legs shaking. You whine for yourself, rubbing your clit until your hips jump away from the feeling. You can feel John watching you as you drop your hand back against the bed with a sigh.

There’s a long moment of silence. You don’t particularly care what John thinks, but you could do without the quiet. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue lick a broad stroke over your dripping cunt. You’re quick to grab his short cropped hair and pull, as he wiggles his tongue against you.

“Good boy,” You purr, keeping a tight grip on him as he cleans you up.

(Now)

“You know him?” Ghost tips his head at the man in the doorway. It’s the first time you’ve noticed that he isn’t wearing his mask. He looks good. Handsome even with the scars that cut across his cheeks. The sort of handsome that makes men confident even when they can’t show their face. You get a little distracted looking at him, take long enough answering that he glances at you. The smile you earn, the soft chuckle as he turns and knocks his finger under your chin, is worth it. “Back to me baby,” He tells you, and you take a breath.

“Could ask you the same thing,” You smile back. Ghost hums, something sparking in his eyes that you can’t place.

“Johnny,” Ghost calls over his shoulder, John’s shoulders jerk back, the scot standing at attention, “Close the door.”

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pictureinme · 4 months

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kinktober day xxvii. COCKWARMING - thomas shelby

word count: ~800 tags: d/s dynamics, bratty reader, sir kink, riding, choking, unsafe sex masterlist | ao3

“What’re you getting all antsy for, love?”

You squirm on Thomas’ lap, the discomfort of only being allowed to sit on his length was far too much for your desperate mind, “Please, can’t I just move a little?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head, “You promised to sit still like a good girl, so that’s what you’re going to do.”

Letting out a huff, you lean your cheek on his shoulder as he continues to write in the ledger. You weren’t paying attention to whatever work he was getting done, you only wanted to wait it out until he either pitied you or got desperate himself.

You had approached him in your nightgown earlier, beckoning him to bed with your most alluring of looks– but Thomas was not the kind of man so easily strayed from his work, even by his own wife. You swore to him that you wouldn’t cause a distraction, so long as he let you keep his cock warm. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep that promise.

With a few movements you could chalk up to ‘getting comfortable,’ Thomas sighs deeply.

“Alright, is there a miscommunication or something, doll?”

Shaking your head, you stay leaning against his shoulder, “No, nothing of the sort– just trying to get comfortable, ‘s all…”

Thomas pulls you by your collar like a petulant child, and looks at you just the same, “Then stop fucking moving.”

Your eyes widened at his gruff tone, and it was hard to fight down the pleased grin that came so easily when he was so close to taming that bratty fire within you.

“I just wanted to make you feel good while you work,” his grip loosens on your collar, allowing you to lean closer to his chapped lips, “Nothing wrong with that, is there, sir?”

“Alright,” you think for a second he’s succumbed to your toying until his calloused fingers grip tightly onto your thighs. You yelp as Thomas pulls you flush against his hips, his length now fully seated inside of you. “If you want to play that game, we will– but we both know very well how you’ll end up, love.”

He doesn’t allow you the grace of responding before he’s lifting you up off of his length, only to bring you back down with a speed that dizzies you.

“Distracting me from my important work,” Thomas groans, his gaze held only where the two of your bodies repeatedly joined, “Fucking brat, needing her fill every damn minute…”

You feel yourself nodding in affirmation as he curses under his breath at you– this was exactly what you wanted. Starting to meet his thrusts, you whimper, “Fill me up so good, Tommy, please– ah!”

He keeps one hand on your hip as you continue to ride him, but the other immediately clamps onto your throat, “What happened to your manners? That’s not what you call me, and you know it.”

Not stopping in your grinds against his hips, your eyes roll back as he applies even more pressure, “Sir, sir!”

“That’s a good girl, there we go.”

Thomas doesn’t let go of your throat but allows you to breathe more freely as he thrusts up into you again. You smile as the hand that was holding your hip sneaks down to rub at your clit– his fingers so close to bringing you to your long-awaited peak.

“You think you deserve to come after this little stunt, love?”

Whining, your eyes clamp shut in frustration, “Please, fuck, I just missed your cock so bad, sir… been waiting all day!”

“Too bad,” he tuts, rolling your clit gently between his fingers, “You’ll take my seed and that’s all you’re getting tonight.”

You thought he would relent in his teasing, but it only speeds up as do his thrusts– Thomas wanted you holding back your release to hurt as much as possible. Your body convulses as it feels the stimulation quickly becoming too much to fight against. Nonetheless, you ride him until he tells you to stop.

“There’s my good girl, come on, fuck–!”

His chest heaves with every stuttering thrust as he releases inside of you, both of his hands coming to pull your face to his in a kiss. You melt in the loving touch, and forget to hold back the dams of your release– Thomas immediately knows by the way you clenched around his softening arousal. He separates the kiss, a single strand of saliva still connecting the two of you.

You look into his unreadable eyes as your own reflect back with pure regret, with a twinge of anticipatory masochistic pleasure.

“Don’t even think about moving ‘til I’m hard again,” he whispers harshly, hands moving back down to the base of your neck. “Then we’ll see about your punishment.”

#thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby smut #cillian murphy smut #kinktober 2023

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miley1442111 · 29 days

Text

thank god for dr. spencer reid

a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))

summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?

pairing: spencerreid x reader

warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!

My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me.

I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck.

“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her.

“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”

My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.

“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-”

“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh.

“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.

“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman.

He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

I just nod back, a small smile on my lips.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist.

“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just… you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious.

“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now.

“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles.

“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”

“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.”

“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes.

“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him.

“You are.”

“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.

“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #bau imagine #bau team #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds imagine

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prettyboykatsuki · 6 months

Note

wyll whos nice and kind down to his bones but develops a nasty jealousy streak….tugs you back behind some secluded corner of camp to kiss you something fierce when he catches how others at camp look upon you…starts smoking a cigarette

steadily yours | w. ravengard

✮ tags ; jealousy, established relationship, gn!reader, kissing / hickies, alcohol, silly and lovesick wyll

✮ wc ; 2k

✮ a/n ; ive thought about this ask for a week straight. its getting dire.

some minor spoilers for wylls romance like extremely minor and vauge!!! i am only just entering act three so pls dont spoil me but this take place vaugely post game lololol

The Blade of Frontiers is a good man.

This isn't a title he's given himself, but one bestowed upon him. Through tales and songs all across the city and uttered from the very lips of his lover - Wyll Ravengard has always strived to be a good man.

He can't assert this by any measure, but he knows best his own effort. For the sake of the city, for the sake of his people, for the sake of love. He wants very little to himself, and he fights with every ounce of him. His heart is in the city, but his soul is with you. Between these two places, there's no amount of sacrifice or burden he isn't willing to bear.

Part of being a good man is being the master of your own desires. What other men do is none of Wyll's concern, but he's always been adamant about keeping firmly on the straight path. Wyll wants love properly, much like how he wishes the world around him would follow.

Properly, with order and justice and care. That's how Wyll has lived his whole life.

And he's believed of himself that loving that way came easier upon him than it did others, though that was nothing he felt like bragging about. It never felt difficult to abstain from the ugliness of anger or jealousy.

That was before you. And this is after, this is post having your meeting. Wyll has had a relationship or two. Puppy crushes that fizzled off as soon as Wyll's responsibility began to overwhelming. Like, less than love, really. This time it is love, and love is incomparable to any sensation in the world. Not the cut of a blade against his skin, nor the warmth of a sunset. No mortal feeling could really measure to love.

In the aftermath of loving you, Wyll supposes, there is an ugliness within himself that he never really knew about. But maybe it's only normal. What else could there be after he's encountered the most beautiful thing the world has to offer, beyond even gods?

There are three things on Wyll's mind, lately. One, that he loves you more than he thought possible. Two, that he's relieved about the state of affairs. And three, he's very tired of feeling this way.

Not that he's tired of loving you. Things just aren't so busy anymore, and that means there's always people around. The people of the gate love you, and you're more hospitable than you let on. The camp is busy, rife with life every single evening and everyone is always so keen on meeting you.

You're busy, rightly - laughing and drinking. Though you're not much for talking, you do your duties as a host and tell stories when prompted. You seem to enjoy yourself in the well-earned reprieve and you've really do deserve very bit of that love and attention that's come your way.

So, Wyll knows feeling this way is ugly. The jealousy is ugly, and Wyll's not entirely lacking self-awareness about it. Though before he could chalk it up to other things, lately it's impossible. He knows that the Outlanders who come seeking your company have no idea you're engaged - and that they're simply men who desire you for the name you've earned.

A warrior, a hero, a myth - Wyll does not blame them for their curiosity.

But he feels pitiful to be so stirred up about it anyways.

He drinks tonight, though the carafe of wine is mostly full. The others speak amongst themselves. Astarion drifts by him, stands and sways in motion in the cool night air with a smug look on his face that Wyll is too dazed to catch.

Astarion speaks first. The sound is muffled first, impossible to make out in his own mind before a pale hand waves in front of his face.

"You know I'll have to thank your darling later for allowing me to see such a rare sight," Astarion drawls. He's sober, though there's wine in his hand all the same "The Blade of Frontiers, seething with jealousy. A marvel."

"I wouldn't call it seething," Wyll replies, still only half paying attention. His eyes are glued to you. He can't bring himself to look away.

Astarion laughs, a little pity in his voice , though Wyll can't really make out if it's sincere or not.

"But you'll admit you're jealous? My, Ravengard, you've changed." Astarion says. Wyll doesn't bother asking what he means, since it's true in any case "Forgive those poor Outlanders. It's hard enough watching them pine for one half the lovesick couple as is."

Wyll sighs.

"It's fine," Wyll says, though even he can hear how much he doesn't really mean it "It's not like they would know. I suppose many people wear decorative rings these days."

"Gods, this is funny. Just listen to you, I mean really. What a delight. I have half a mind to call the rest over just to witness it in person. Unfortunately I'm not so charitable," Astarion says back to him holding in a laugh "Whatever will you do, Ravengard? Maybe you could kick up a fuss, or pick a fight. People brawl at these things don't they? Oh what a sight that'd be indeed."

Wyll ignores him, but he does heed the advice. He would like to do something about it, though there won't be any brawl. He steels himself, passes an empty cup off to Astarion who makes a shrill laugh as Wyll starts walking himself over the fire.

When he arrives there, the conversation has come to more of a relaxed lull. You notice him even engrossed in conversation, flashing him a smile so beautiful he feels a little blinded.

He gives you one in return, disarmed. The outlander who's been trying to win your attention all night goes to address you again and Wyll is quick to interject.

"Ah, sorry - would you all mind if I borrowed them for a minute?"

You give Wyll a look of surprise, your eyes crystal clear. He feels guilty almost instantly, but continues anyway.

"Is something the matter?" You ask, your voice softened. You've been drinking, from the way your words melt together.

"Nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about in private. That alright? Promise I'll return them before the night is over."

"As long as you promise," Says the very same one Wyll's been trying to tear you away from all evening. You laugh heartily before standing to your feet. You're beaming at him, brilliant - and Wyll goes back to his usual pleasant self as he gives his goodbyes.

He says something about promising before he whisks you off, faithfully ignoring the knowing looks of party.

And he takes you to a quiet corner of the camp, a short trail bridging between the main plot of land. There's some sturdy scenery, and rocks large enough to shield you from the outside and give you privacy.

He's cornering you a bit, admittedly - but you seem happy to see him. As soon as you're alone, you have your arms around his neck. There's a delightful air of excitement around you and Wyll finds himself filling with all the fondness in the world.

The faint sour-sweet of wine lingers off of your lips. Wyll looks at you closely, studies your expression.

"Sorry, sorry," You apologize, suddenly more comfortable. A side of yourself that you only show to him. How funny it makes him feel "I was happy to see you, is all."

"I can see that," Wyll replies, smug - just barely. You bat your lashes, dazed. It's unlike you. Wyll likes it. "I'm happy to see you too. Always."

"Is it something serious?"

Ah. He's caught isn't he? In a way, he's tremendously lucky you're not too sober. He's sure you'll tease him about it later.

"No, I suppose not. It's nothing at all, I just," He stumbles uncertainly at what he should say "Well, I wanted to speak with you."

"You could've joined us!"

Wyll gives you a sideways glance.

"Could I?" He says, before he catches himself. He adds the next words apologetically almost "That outlander you've been conversing all night seemed rather rapt with you. I doubt I could've interjected anywhere without fumbling."

You look like you're processing his words, but it's not as if Wyll is going to let you.

Wyll often says to you that you make him forget himself, and there are moments like these he find that to be more true than ever. It is unlike Wyll - strong and chivalrous, poise and charming - to bear so heavy a feeling in his heart that he has to express it physically.

Only you could make his silver tongue submit to such urgent, base instinct. Wyll kisses you in the most unromantic way he knows. It's not very gentlemanly. A kiss to claim, to sink, to swallow.

He kisses hard, and your lips are faint with the taste of wine. You make a noise of surprise before you melt into his arms. The warmth of his body makes him feel like he's burning to ash. His tongue touches yours, warm and hot nipping at your mouth.

When you pull away, Wyll decides it still isn't enough to curb the jealousy. He lets his teeth drift down to your neck. Sharpened canines that scrape against thin skin. Wyll sucks hard, enough to make all the capilliaries break.

And you sigh - a pretty, welcoming noise. Wyll is marking you. He leaves one after the other, in admittedly visible places. But he's not thinking about, not really.

Not until your voice breaks, the sweetest edge of desire to your words. He's not so debased to do anything to you while you're more than tipsy. He pulls away from you, blinks at you candidly - before the realization dawns on him in full.

By the gods, what's wrong with him? Embarrassment hits him afterwards, abject dread filling him as he peers at the dark marks along your neckline.

Did he really...? Really?

"Wyll," You say, strikingly sober and delighted all of a sudden "Are you...perhaps...jealous?"

He rubs his face on his hand, suddenly flush, turning his expression to one side. He can't deny it at this point can he.

"I wonder if my life will be easier once our wedding is announced in print," He offers sheepishly. You laugh loudly, absolutely elated as you press your forehead to his. He does the same, of course "The ring seems to be no more than decorative to everyone."

"Wyll Ravengard, I would've never guessed in a thousand years you'd drag me here because you were jealous."

"Please forget my uncouth actions at your earliest convenience my love," He says, groaning "I might die of embarrassment otherwise."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I get jealous over silly things all the time. I tell you as much."

"When you do it it's endearing. I'm meant to be a gentleman, yet in front of you - I lose my wits like I'm a boy no older than seventeen. It's maddening."

"You forget yourself?" You tease, characteristically. He laughs.

"A bit more each day, it seems."

"A little jealousy is healthy, Ravengard. Though, I'm not sure how we're going to return to camp in this state." You say, giving him a suggestive look "Perhaps we have a bit more to talk about here instead, hm?"

"We should be doing such things in a bed. Or a tent." Wyll insists. You chuckle like you know he'll give into you.

"Wouldn't it be more effective if that Outlander you're so jealous of saw me with a post sex glow, along with the hickies."

Wyll feels his skin prick with heat.

"You drive a hard bargain." He comments, voice soft as a whisper. You laugh.

"Maybe you're just an easy sell."

Wyll laughs heartily at that.

"Any one would jump at the chance for something so priceless, Hero of the Gate."

You give Wyll another smile, lovely and genuine - there's nothing smug about it. You kiss him tender, sighing happily into his arms. He finds himself helpless to his own joy.

"Then lets kill time here and head back,"

"Yes," He says, jealousy tucked away for now "Let's do that,"

#return to sender #wyll x reader #bg3 x reader #wyll fluff #wyll ravengard x reader #bg3 fluff #writing tag #WYLL I WONT YHU

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once-upon-an-imagine · 6 months

Text

Lover - Sirius Black

A/N: ahh! well here it is, a very long one-shot. I'm not sure how, this started off kind of sweet, then it got angsty and then it got funny but I still hope you like it!

Request - Anonymous asked: Hey love! Hope you're doing okay! I wanna start off by saying I love all of your Sirius Black fics so much! They're so fun to read and always make me happy! Secondly I love the whole Potter!reader thing cause I absolutely love James and have always wanted a brother like him. Idk if you're taking requests but if you are I was wondering if you'd do a Sirius x reader where the reader is a Hufflepuff and is the opposite of Sirius and he's like absolutely whipped but the reader is James' little sister ( a year younger maybe cause I love age gaps lol) so yeah sirius is like shitting scared cause he thinks James would hate him forever and all angsty but then James is like dude I knew since like the day I introduced you guys and all happy ending lol. Sorry if it's too detailed. I completely understand if you don't wanna write it tho. Have a nice day!

Warnings: mentions of Sirius' family situation, like I said it got a bit too angsty for a moment there but I think that's it let me know if I missed anything though!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :D gif isn’t mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

You kept walking back and forth in your room. You couldn't sleep. You hadn't been able to sleep earlier tonight, but now it was even worse. When you walked into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea you did not expect to find Sirius Black, barely being able to stand as he held on to the kitchen counter. You felt your entire body shaking when you noticed the bruises and blood all over him. But, when he looked at you, your heart broke into a million pieces, that's when you felt like you were going to be sick. He was crying and he looked haunted. You had never seen Sirius like this. He tried to say your name before he collapsed so you quickly walked over to him to hold him up and you yelled for your brother. It wasn't even five minutes before James came running downstairs with your parents following him. And now, here you were, waiting for James to come tell you what happened. Sirius wasn't talking, so if there was a remote possibility that he would, it would be with James. And your parents were helping him so, at some point, you were asked to leave. But James knew you wouldn't go to sleep until you knew Sirius was okay.

"Hey, bug" you turned around when James opened your door.

"Hi" you said, finally sitting on the bench by your window and James joined you. "H-how is he?" you asked nervously. You could tell James had been crying as well.

"He's gonna be okay" he assured you. "I knew you wouldn't go to sleep until I told you that" he smiled. "He's gonna be staying with us now" he explained.

"Good" you nodded. "I'm glad he doesn't have to go back there" you said. You knew about Sirius' home situation. He had talked to you about it a few times, but you had never imagined it was this bad.

"Me too" James smiled at you.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, bug" he frowned.

"You know it's okay if you're not, right?" you insisted.

"It's just... hard seeing him like this" he admitted, shedding a few tears. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"You're a good brother, Jamie" you said as you felt him hug you back. "That's why he came here" you told him.

"Thanks, bug" he said, kissing the side of your head. You were about to pull away but you felt James arms tightening a little and you knew he needed more time.

"You should try to get some sleep" you told him.

"You too" he said, getting up. When he was at the door, he looked back at you with a weary smile. "I love you, bug."

"I love you too, Jamie" you smiled before he left, closing the door behind you.

You sighed, thinking that it was best if you also got some sleep since it was almost three in the morning, but you heard something in the room next to you. You knew Sirius would most likely not be able to sleep. So, you went downstairs again to make some tea. But not for you. You knew that Sirius might not want to talk right now, especially with you. So, you just wanted to do something nice and feel a little helpful. You walked quietly to his room and saw that the light was still on, so you were not waking him up. You knocked lightly but got no response, so you opened the room slowly. It was empty, and the bathroom door was closed. You didn't want to cross any lines so you placed the tea on his nightstand and left.

And that's how it started. You did the same thing the following night. This time, when you knocked on his door, Sirius opened it and smiled sweetly at you. He had a feeling it was you the previous night. He was still very quiet, which was unusual for him, but you still offered him the tea.

"I just... thought it might help you sleep" you smiled nervously.

"Thanks, Bambi" he said, grabbing it from you, making you chuckle a little. He had always called you that and, it annoyed you at first, but now you kind of liked it.

"Good night, Siri" you said, walking over to the next door.

"Night, love" he whispered to himself going inside his room.

This kept happening for the following weeks. You slowly saw Sirius coming back to his old self. Your mum had asked you to help redecorate his room so he would feel more at home and you noticed his eyes watering a little when your mum showed it to him. James told him that Remus and Peter would be arriving in a few weeks and that also seemed to lift his spirits up. But if Sirius was being honest with himself, his favorite part of living at the Potters was whenever you brought him tea. It was a small act of kindness on your part but it meant the world to him. He knew you sometimes had trouble sleeping and you were worried that he was experiencing that too, and that warmed his heart. Which is why, one night he opened the door before you could even knock. He stood there on the other side and smiled sweetly at you.

"Oh- s-sorry, I was um-"

"It's okay, love" he chuckled. "How come you never bring one for yourself?" he asked, confused as he grabbed the tea from you.

"Oh" you said, a little taken aback. "I usually drink mine downstairs" you explained.

"Well, would you maybe like to have your tea with me tomorrow?" he smiled sweetly at you.

"Really?" you asked, feeling a little nervous. "I m-mean, yeah, sure, I'd love that" you nodded.

"Cool, see you tomorrow, Bambi" he said, kissing your cheek before you both said good night.

And you did. Every night for the rest of the summer, after James went to sleep, and the rest of the Marauders, once they arrived, you brought tea for Sirius and the two of you spent hours talking. Little by little, you saw him going back to his old self. He smiled more. He laughed more. He didn't seem jumpy or gloomy anymore. One night, you fell asleep and he didn't have it in him to bring you to your room. He liked your company and he felt a lot better when you were around, so he didn't. But a few hours later, you were woken up by his screaming. It broke your heart to see him so terrified by his nightmares, but it got Sirius to open up to you. He felt more comfortable around you with each passing week, until one night, he finally kissed you.

You would have been lying if you said you didn't have a slight crush on Sirius Black. Because he was Sirius Black. Everyone had a crush on him and you were no exception. And in the weeks since he had moved in, you got to know him even more and you felt your crush growing. So, when he kissed you, you were over the moon. That's how it started. This whole thing between the two of you. You both decided to keep it secret for a while. And you couldn't deny that it was even exciting at first. The stolen glances between you, the way Sirius would always sit next to you at meals and hold your hand under the table. Brief moments where he would excuse himself from the other Marauders just to go to your room to steal a quick kiss from you.

But now, that you were back at Hogwarts, being in different years and houses, it made it increasingly difficult to keep your relationship a secret. You knew Sirius was anxious about James' reaction to your relationship, but you didn't think it would be such a big deal, as to practically have your relationship back to before you two got together. Making moments like this extremely rare.

"Merlin, I've missed you" Sirius smiled as the two of you laid on his bed, kissing, with music in the background.

"I've missed you too" you smiled before he pulled you in for another kiss. "It's been such a long week" you complained.

"It's only Tuesday" he laughed.

"I know" you pouted and he kissed you once more. "But we barely got to see each other this past weekend and classes have been crazy and I just-"

Sirius interrupted you with another kiss. "I know, love" he said, placing his hand on your cheek. "But it's a Hogsmeade weekend" he smiled. "Maybe we can go?"

"R-really?" you asked, feeling excited. Because of all the sneaking around, you two didn't even have a first date.

"Yeah, I think we're all gonna go, so you can come with us" he suggested, making your smile drop.

"Oh- um, y-yeah, sure" you smiled again, but, of course, Sirius noticed it was different.

"What?" he frowned, sitting up.

"N-nothing" you tried to assure him.

"Love, you're a terrible liar" he insisted. "I know when something's bothering you" he said pulling you with him.

"Nothing, I just..." you sighed. The two of you never really established what this was and you didn't want to make it a bigger deal than it was. "I'm not sure if I have a Potions exam on Monday" you covered up.

"Oh" he replied before smiling again. "Well, in that case" he said, leaning in for another kiss. "Maybe I can stay back and help you study" he smirked, kissing you again.

"You don't have to do that" you chuckled.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind, sweetheart" he said as his kisses started making his way down your neck. "I wouldn't mind at all" he said between kisses and making your smile appear again.

It was short-lived, however, because the two of you heard the door opening and Sirius quickly pushed you off him, making you fall off his bed.

"Bloody hell!"

"Sirius!" you complained when you hit your head with his nightstand.

"Moony! What the fuck!" Sirius said, looking at his friend standing at the entrance of his dorm.

"What? Just be glad it was me and not Prongs" he rolled his eyes, closing the door and tossing his bag on his bed.

"I'm so sorry, love" he said, getting up to help you. "Are you okay-?"

"No, of course I'm not okay" you glared at him. "You pushed me and I hit my head!"

"I'm sorry, love. I thought it was Prongs-"

"What difference does that make, Sirius" you asked, grabbing your shirt and putting it back on. "We're both half-naked, in your bed, do you honestly think James would have thought nothing was going on? I know he's daft but give him some credit!"

"I panicked, okay! Moony said he would be out until dinner" he said, glaring at Remus.

"It is almost dinner" he defended himself. "And this wouldn't have happened if you just told Prongs already. What is he gonna do? Kill you?"

"Moony, could you please get out?" Sirius glared at his friend again making Remus sigh in frustration.

"Fine, I'll leave-"

"No, don't worry, Remus. I'll leave" you said as you finished fixing yourself up.

"What? Why are you leaving?" Sirius said, pulling you to him.

"I don't know, Sirius, maybe because I don't want to stay here until my brother comes in and you push me again so I hit my head!"

"That was an accident! I just-"

"I know. You don't want James to know about us" you rolled your eyes. "What's the big deal? Remus knows!" you said, pointing at him.

"Remus is not your brother. Trust me, love. I will tell him, I promise I just... need more time" he begged, making you sigh in defeat.

"Fine" you said, grabbing your bag. "I'm still gonna go" you said, quietly.

"Love-"

"No, it's fine" you said with a weary smile. "If it's almost dinner time, that means Jamie's practice is over" you said. "I'll see you both later" you said, leaving and closing the door behind you before Sirius could stop you again.

"I fucked up, didn't I?" Sirius asked out loud.

"Oh, good. You didn't neet me to tell you" Remus smirked a little.

"Moony, I'm not joking-!"

"Neither am I, Pads" Remus said as Sirius put his shirt back on. "You're gonna fuck things up if you keep doing this. And the longer you wait-"

"I know, the worst it will be with Prongs" Sirius sighed frustrated.

"Prongs? You're more worried about what James will say than being disrespectful to your girlfriend?"

"Whoa, that's a big word, Moony" he chuckled nervously. "Bambi's not my-" he stopped as Remus glared at him. "I mean we haven't really-" he sighed. "Ugh, I'm fucking this up, aren't I?" he said, throwing himself on his bed.

"You know, sometimes you're more perceptive than I give you credit for" Remus replied.

"Moony!" Sirius complained, sitting up. "It's not funny! I don't know what to do!"

"Why are you so afraid of telling James about the two of you?"

"Are you joking? You know I don't have the best reputation about dating and if he finds out that I'm dating his little sister he's going to kill me!"

"I honestly don't think he would" Remus tried to reason to him. "I mean, we've all seen how much you've changed this past year" he continued. "And James hasn't seen it but I've seen the way the two of you are together. It's different" he explained. "But you're going to fuck it all up if you keep making her feel this way" he said.

"What way?"

"As if you don't want to be seen with her. As if your relationship isn't serious. And as if you care more about what James says than hurting her feelings" he indicated.

Sirius opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out so he threw himself back on his bed. Maybe Remus was right. Maybe he needed to get this over with and just tell James before it was too late.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next day, you were coming out of your Charms class and you were still in a foul mood. You loved Sirius, you knew that much. And whenever you were with him, you felt like he might love you too. But all of this hiding and sneaking around made your insecurities get the best of you and wonder if he was as Sirius about this as you were. You understood that he was nervous about telling James, but you kept insisting nothing would happen so, maybe it wasn't just that.

Your thoughts were shut down when you noticed a small crumpled parchment in your bag while you were putting your book away. You opened it and saw one of Sirius' doodles and it made you smile. He did this from time to time. He left little notes hidden in your books and your bag. This one was a small doodle of him holding up a flower and apologizing for being an idiot, asking you to meet him after lunch so the two of you could talk.

"Hey, bug!" you heard your brother walking your way and you put your small doodle back in your bag.

"Hi, Jamie" you smiled at your big brother.

"You going to lunch?"

"Yeah" you replied before you heard your name being called.

"Hey" you turned around to see your housemate and classmate speeding your way. "Oh, hi, James" she smiled. "It's the Potters" she greeted.

"Hi Emmeline" you smiled back at your friend.

"Hey" she smiled. "I won't keep you long, I just wanted to ask you something" she told you. "Oh, and now that your brother's here I guess I can ask him too" she told you.

"Sure, Em, what do you need?" you asked your friend.

"You're really close with Sirius Black, aren't you?" she asked, making your heart drop for a moment. You could tell where this was going.

"She's not as close to him as I am" James smirked. "Why the interest, love?"

"Well, I was just... wondering if... he's single?" she asked smiling as you felt your entire heart shatter. What were you supposed to say now?

"Yes, of course, he is" James answered before you could say something.

"Really? I wasn't sure because you seem really close to him and I didn't want to cross any lines if you two were dating or anything-" she said looking at you. But, again, your brother intervened.

"With her?" he laughed a little too loud to your liking. "Sirius dating my sister? You're joking right, they're just friends" he insisted.

"Oh, that's a relief" she sighed while you remained with your mouth open but nothing was coming out. "So, could you maybe... find out for me if he might be interested?"

"I- uh-" you tried to make sense of this whole thing. "Y-you want me to f-find out if Sirius likes you?"

"Yeah" she chuckled. "We've sort of been flirting back and forth, and since it's a Hogsmeade weekend, I though-"

"Y-you've been flirting back and forth" you said, letting out a bitter chuckle and feeling as if someone was stabbing your heart repeatedly. "With Sirius-?"

"Well, that's a grand idea, Emmeline" James kept interrupting. "Maybe we can have a double date" he suggested.

"What's on your mind, Potter?"

"Well, I happen to know you do some of your prefect rounds with Lily" he smirked. "Put in a good word for me and I put in a good word for you?"

"Really?" Emmeline asked, excitedly.

"Really" James nodded.

"Alright, Potter. You've got yourself a deal" she smiled. "But only if you agree to find out if I have a chance first" she said, turning back to you.

"I um-" you stuttered. "S-so, you want me to find out if Sirius likes you-?"

"Yes, please, will you? Is not too much trouble, is it?" she asked.

"Uh-"

"Of course, not, love!" James waved you off. "We'll definitely have the information in a few hours. I mean, we're just on our way to have lunch with Sirius, right bug?" he said, playfully hitting your stomach with his arm.

"R-right" you said trying your best not to start crying. Were you really just about to set your boyfriend up on a date just to avoid telling your brother?

"Brilliant! Thank you so much! I have my Prefect rounds tonight with Lily so, that works" she told James.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Em" James said as she nodded her head to him.

"Thanks, love" she told you. "I'll see you both later!" she said, walking away from you.

"Oh, Merlin! Bug, did you hear that?"

"What just happened?" you muttered to yourself.

"I'll tell you what just happened. I just got a date with Lily!" he said, excitedly, pulling you with him to the Great Hall.

"I didn't hear that" you said, frowning at him.

"Come on, let's go!" he said, running towards his usual spot. He found Remus and Peter already sitting there but Sirius was nowhere to be seen. "Great! You're both here! Where's Padfoot?"

"He said he'll be right here" Peter said as James pulled you to sit and he took the seat next to you.

"Brilliant!" he said as he started putting food on his plate and yours.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked you.

"She's fine. She's just hungry" James said, placing a massive mountain of potatoes on your plate.

"No, I think I have to go-"

"Nonsense!"

"Hey" Sirius said, appearing at the table and greeting all of you. "Bambi, I didn't know you would join us today" he said, sitting next to Remus, in front of you. "What are you all talking about?"

"Not much" James said, acting casually. "Just talking about next weekend" he said smiling. "Hogsmeade weekend" he continued. "Do you have any plans?"

"Uh, no, n-not really" Sirius answered, looking at you without meaning to.

"Wonderful" James said with a smirk. "I have a proposition for you" he told him.

"What?"

"Well, I was thinking-"

"Shocker" Remus heard you mutter under your breath and your brother quickly glared at you.

"What do you think about going on a double date?"

"Are you asking me out, Prongs? Because I've got to be honest with you, you're not really my type" Sirius asked him making the other two Marauders laugh.

James rolled his eyes and glared at his friends. "No, I just happened to run into Emmeline, you know her right?" he said.

"Um... sure?" Sirius said a bit confused. He looked at you to see if you could maybe provide some sort of explanation, but your eyes were glued to the potatoes on your plate. You didn't dare to look up at him.

"Well, you see, my sweet Padfoot, it looks like our dear Emmeline has a bit of a crush on you" he said happily.

You lifted her look just to see Sirius' reaction who looked back at you, feeling extremely guilty.

"N-no, she doesn't" he said awkwardly.

"Yes, she does! Isn't this grand?"

"G-grand? W-why would that be grand?" Sirius chuckled, nervously.

"Well because she just told us that she wants to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend and that she would ask Lily so we could go on a double date" James said with a smirk.

"Us? What do you mean 'us'?"

"She just told us before coming over here" he explained, making Sirius' heart stop. "She wanted us to find out if you liked her back" he shrugged.

Sirius instantly looked at you. He knew you were upset. And you probably had every right to. This was it. He should just come out and say it. But he fucked up again. He was a coward.

"She told you that?"

You slowly turned to look up from your food when you felt the four boys looking at you. James still had his stupid smirk on his face, Peter was just curiously waiting for an answer, Sirius was looking at you as if he was going to cry, and Remus was looking at you almost... sorry?

"Um" you said nervously. "She might-have um, m-mentioned something" you said before looking back down.

"Mentioned something? She said you two have been flirting back and forth for weeks" James said excitedly. "So, what do you say? Why don't you ask her out and then the four of us could go on a double date?"

You felt your heart beating faster each second and feared it might explode. Not only would Sirius not take you out on a date this Saturday, but he might even go on a date with someone else. All to avoid telling your brother about the two of you.

"Uh, I don't think so, Prongs-"

"Come on, Pads, is just one date" James kept on pushing.

Remus turned to look at you, who didn't dare look up from your plate. He noticed the tears in your eyes and he turned to glare at Sirius, kicking him under the table.

"I don't really think Padfoot's interested, Prongs" he said, widening his eyes at Sirius. He couldn't believe he was so afraid of James as to even hurt your feelings in the process.

"Of course he is, he's interested in any girl" James laughed. "Well, almost, right bug?" he said, elbowing you playfully on your stomach.

"R-right" you muttered sadly.

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and you decided you couldn't be here anymore, so you stood up.

"Hey, where are you going, bug?" your brother asked confused.

"Away from you" you answered, grabbing your stuff.

"But you haven't even touched your food" James said, worriedly, looking at the still full plate next to him.

"Well, maybe I'm not hungry anymore" you said grumpily, before walking away from them.

"What's going on with her?" James asked concerned, looking at his three friends.

"I don't know" Sirius quickly replied. "W-why would we know?"

"Yeah, why would we know?" Remus asked, glaring at Sirius.

"It's probably her time of the month" James said shrugging his shoulders. "Honestly is easier to deal with your time of the month, Moony, no offense" he said looking at Remus. "So, what do you say?"

"About what?" Sirius asked, confused.

"The double date!" James said frustrated.

"Uh, I um-" Sirius said awkwardly. "I don't think so, mate. I'm not really interested in Emmeline like that" he said getting up as well. "Um, I'm gonna go see if Bambi's okay" he said, walking out of the Great Hall before any of them could stop him.

"What do you think is going on with him?" James asked confused. "And why is he checking on my sister?"

"Beats me" Remus said casually. He wouldn't be the one to tell his best friend that their other best friend was in a secret relationship with his sister.

Sirius ran after you as quickly as he could. He quickly made his way to the Library, knowing you went there when you didn't want your brother to bother you and he walked over to the last aisle. He saw you sitting there with your knees pulled to your chest as tears fell down your face. It felt as if someone grabbed a hammer and broke his heart into millions of pieces.

"Love" he said, kneeling next to you. You quickly tried to wipe away the tears falling down your cheeks but new ones just came.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Sweetheart" he said, pulling you towards him. "You know I don't want to go out with Emmeline, right?" he said, as you tried to breathe normally.

"I g-guess" you sighed.

"Look at me" he said, gently lifting your chin with his finger and he then wiped your tears softly with his thumb. "I don't want to go out with anyone who's not you" he said genuinely.

"Sirius..." you said, pushing yourself away from him.

"And I swear we have not been flirting back and forth! I wouldn't do that-!"

"Sirius" you said again, making him pay attention to you. "It's fine" you said, with your voice breaking a little.

"W-what?" Sirius frowned, confused.

"Look, it is clear that your relationship with me is not as important as your relationship with James" you cried a little more. "S-so, if you want to just- e-end whatever this is, I completely understand and-"

"What?!" he said, raising his voice a little. The two of you heard someone shushing you all the way on the other side and he looked back at you. "Sweetheart, I don't want to end things" he pleaded. "I-is that what you want? I swear I haven't flirted with anyone since I came back here and-"

"It's not what I want, Sirius" you insisted. "B-but... I just... I don't know what to do! I don't know what you want-"

"I want to be with you, love!" he insisted.

"Do you? I barely get to see you anymore. We're in different houses, we're in different years the rest of the time you're with my brother and you don't want him or anyone else to know about us! I don't know how long I can keep doing this, Sirius. It just doesn't feel as if you actually want to be with me!"

"I do!"

"Then why can't we just tell James so he can stop setting you up with a different girl every week!" you blurted out. "You think he doesn't tell me things? That he hasn't told me how he noticed you've changed and you don't talk to girls anymore so he keeps trying to set you up with them!"

"Well, of course, I've changed! I'm with you now and I don't want to be with anyone else!"

"But he doesn't know that, Sirius! So he's most likely going to keep doing this until you get fed up and tell him! So, why not just tell him already? Do you not want people to know about us-?"

"No! That's not it!"

"Is it me? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me or something?"

"What? No! Love, how can you think that!?"

"I don't know what else to think Sirius! I don't even know what we are!"

"Please don't ever think that" he said with a stern look on his face. "Look, I know I fucked up yesterday, and today, and probably lots of other times. I've never done this before and I-" he sighed, running a hand through his hair frustrated. "I love you" he said, making your heart flutter instantly.

"Y-you what?"

"I love you, sweetheart, okay? I know that. I've known it for a while. I have never felt like this about anyone and... I don't want to lose you" he said with his voice breaking a little. "I know I've fucked up, I just..." he sighed again. "I don't want you to think that my relationship with James is more important than you. Nothing to me is more important than you, okay? But... love..." he said, looking away. "I got disowned" he said, quietly. "I was kicked out of my family and James..." he continued. "Without him, I wouldn't have anywhere to go. I wouldn't even have you" he explained. "And he's my best friend and he knows me more than anyone. You also know that I don't have the best dating reputation here and... I'm just... scared that he's going to hate me and... then I'll have no one" he said. "I know this isn't fair to you, this is all just... a lot and new to me, and I'm so sorry-"

"Sirius" you said, cupping his cheek with your hand and smiling at him. You pulled him gently and kissed his cheek. "First of all, I love you too" you said, making him smile back at you.

"Y-you do?"

"Of course, I do. Why do you think I was so upset about you going out with another girl this weekend-?"

"That was never going to happen-" he interrupted.

"Secondly, I understand where you're coming from about James" you told him. "And we don't have to tell him until you're ready" you said. "But James loves you too. You know in a different way" you said, making him laugh a little. "I think he loves you more than he loves me-"

"That's not true" he insisted, making you chuckle.

"Either way, he would never turn his back on you" you insisted. "And neither will I" you assured him. He pulled you closer, kissing your temple before he wiped away your remaining tears.

"I'm so sorry, love" he whispered. "I don't want you to feel this way" he said. "I feel like I keep screwing up and hurting you-"

"It's okay, love" you assured him. "I mean, it's not the most ideal situation" you admitted. "But, we don't have to tell him until you're ready" you said. "I just... I don't particularly love that girls keep chasing after you" you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn.

Sirius gently lifted your face slowly so you would look at him. "I promise I don't want to go out with anyone who's not you, love" he said. "Y-you trust me, right?"

You smiled sweetly at him, brushing his cheek with your thumb. "Of course, I do, love" you said, giving him a peck on the lips. "I love you" you said, feeling your heart flutter at the sweet smile on his face.

"I love you too" he said, giving you another kiss.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Hey, mate, where did you disappear off to?" James asked when Sirius walked into the boys' dorm. "We didn't see you after lunch, or at Potions, Charms, or at dinner" he told him.

"I uh- was... around" he said, innocently.

"Mhm" James said, looking at Peter. "By yourself?" he asked, making Remus roll his eyes as he kept reading his book.

"I um... well... yeah" he shrugged

"Interesting" James said, sitting up.

"All afternoon?" Peter asked.

"Yes" he said, sitting on his bed and throwing his bag on the floor. "I went out and had a cigarette. What's the big deal?"

"You missed class-" Remus spoke for the first time.

"Nobody cares about that, Moony" James interrupted as he sat on his bed. "See, we happened to hear otherwise, Padfoot" he said, smirking at Sirius.

"What are you talking about, Prongs?" he frowned, looking between him and Remus.

"Well, since you obviously missed dinner, you missed what everyone was talking about" he continued.

"I doubt it was anything interesting-" Sirius started.

"Oh, but it was" James continued. "See it was about you and your new... girlfriend" he said, making Sirius' heart drop.

"M-my what now?"

"Your girlfriend" Remus said, suddenly very interested in the conversation, closing his book.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, Padfoot, apparently someone saw you today walking out of the library with a mysterious girlfriend" James explained.

"That's insane" he said, chuckling nervously.

"No, mate, it's from a reliable source" Peter nodded.

"Really? Enlighten me, Wormy, who is your reliable source?"

"Marlene and Dorcas" James added. "They all said they saw you leaving with someone who had a Gryffindor scarf" he said, getting up and walking over to Sirius' bed. "So, either you have a Gryffindor girlfriend, or maybe you gave her your scarf" he said, sitting down next to him. "A bunch of girls were claiming it was them but according to Marls, it wasn't-"

"Do you really have nothing better to do than wondering if I am with someone-?"

"See, it all adds up" James continued. "Why you wouldn't go out with Emmeline, or any other girl for that matter" he said. "We just want to know why you didn't tell us!"

"Because it's none of your business!" Sirius said, getting up, frustrated.

"So it's true!" Peter smirked.

"I knew it!" James yelled at the same time. "Who is she?"

"You kind of built yourself up for that one, Pads" Remus told him.

"I didn't say it was true!" Sirius said, feeling nervous.

"You didn't deny it" James smirked. "C'mon Pads, tell us who she is!" Is it just a fling?"

"Yeah, who is this mystery girl and why did you hide it from us? Usually, you brag about your flings" Peter laughed.

"There's no mystery girl and it is not a fling-!"

"Again, you just keep setting yourself up, mate-" Remus intervened.

"Hey dorks, I need some food. I missed dinner" you said, suddenly entering your brother's dorm and the four boys turned to look at you.

"Oh, suddenly you're in a good mood again?" James asked, glaring at you a little.

"I am if you feed me" you said, walking over to your brother's night table because you knew he would have dinner's leftovers. Which coincidentally happened whenever you or Sirius would miss dinner.

"Hey, bug, did you hear about Sirius' secret girlfriend?" James asked suddenly, making you choke on the banana muffin munching on.

"W-what? Sirius has a secret girlfriend?" you pretended to be confused as Remus rolled his eyes when you sat next to him and dropped your bag on the floor.

"Yeah, we're trying to figure out who she is and why he didn't tell us" Peter added.

"Hold on" James said, sitting up and looking at your tossed bag on the floor. "What's that?"

"What's what?" you asked, with your mouth half-fulled at the same time Sirius did.

James noticed something peeking out of your bag. Something scarlet and gold. He quickly got up and grabbed it, taking it out.

"Why do you have a Gryffindor scarf?"

"I um-" you swallowed, nervously. "That's yours-"

"No" he insisted. "Mine is over there" he said, pointing at his opened trunk with his scarf on top, falling out of it.

"Uh- P-Prongs" Sirius started, but your brother looked deep in thought.

"How long do you reckon it's going to take him?" Remus muttered, sitting up.

"Oh for Merlin's sake! I can't take it anymore!" Sirius yelled, frustrated. "That's my scarf!"

"Now we'll never know" you mumbled, giving him a piece of your muffin.

"So, you're the mystery fling?" Peter asked with his jaw dropped.

"She's not a fling!" Sirius argued.

"Wait, how long has this been going on!?" James asked looking between you and Sirius.

"Well, we've actually been seeing each other since this summer" Sirius explained.

"SINCE SUMMER?!" James blurted out.

"Jamie, is not a big deal-" you tried.

"It is a big deal!" he argued. "How come I didn't know about this?" he asked, looking at Sirius.

"Well, I didn't know how you were going to react, Prongs and-"

"So you lied to me?"

"Technically we didn't lie" you told him. "We just didn't say anything-"

"Oh, don't use that with me, I invented that, bug" he glared at you. "Plus, today when we talked to Emmeline, you said you weren't dating!"

"No, I didn't" you argued.

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!" James complained as Remus, Sirius, and Peter kept looking between the two of you.

"No, actually, technically, I didn't" you insisted.

"Yes, you di- oohhh" he gasped, remembering your previous conversation. "You didn't! You clever bug, I'm impressed" he smirked, proudly as he gave you a high-fived and you accepted it, rolling your eyes a little. "So you two have been seeing each other for months now?"

"Pretty much" you said, still a bit nervous.

"And this is why you kept turning me down when I tried to set you up?" he asked Sirius.

"Yeah" he admitted.

"Are you happy with her?"

"I am. Very happy" Sirius quickly said.

"Are you happy with him?" he asked you.

"I really am" you replied.

"Okay" he said, sitting back on his bed.

"W-wait, you're... you're okay with this?" Sirius asked, extremely confused.

"Well, I don't love that you hid it from me but... yes, why wouldn't I be?" James shrugged.

"W-well, b-because I thought- are you kidding me? I thought you were going to kick my ass!"

"For dating my sister? You do know her, right? She's more than capable of kicking your ass" he laughed. "Plus, I'm assuming that since it's been going on for a long time it's... a serious relationship?"

"Well, we haven't had our first date yet, but... yes" Sirius said, sitting on your other side and holding your hand.

"Wait, you haven't had your first date, what the hell have you- no! You know what, I don't want to know" James said, glaring at you as you laughed.

"See, mate? I told you James wouldn't mind" Remus said, patting Sirius on the back and erasing James' smile off his face.

"E-excuse me?" James said, getting upset. "Remus knew?"

"Prongs" Sirius said getting up at the same time.

"You mean to tell me that the two of you have been together for months and YOU TOLD REMUS BEFORE ME?!!" he snapped.

"It was an accident, mate-"

"Oh, I'm sure it was!" James said, glaring at Sirius. "I can't believe you did this to me! Why would you betray me like this?!"

"I'm sorry, Prongs! I can make it up to you, okay? Honeydukes, this Saturday, I'll buy you all the candy you want!"

James stood there with his arms crossed. "... I'm listening" he caved.

"But I thought we were having our first date-"

"Oh, don't you even think so, bug! Remus knew!"

"This is going to be my whole life, isn't it?" you asked Remus and Peter.

"Yes."

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I know this was a roller coaster of emotions but I hope you loves liked it! :D

#marauders #marauders imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black oneshot

523 notes · View notes

arc-misadventures · 3 months

Text

NNN: SI

Jaune: Sienna, can we talk?

Sienna: Sure, what do you need?

Jaune: Uhh… where are you?

Sienna: Changing.

Jaune: Ahh okay. So, uhh… Have you been talking to, Kali lately?

Sienna: No, why?

Jaune: Really? Because she’s been giving me these… knowing smiles…

Sienna: ‘Knowing smiles?’

Jaune: Well, she just looks at me, and she smiles at me. It’s an unnerving smile. Like she knows something, that I don’t know. And, that something will impact me in someway, and she is looking forward to that. Whatever that is…

Sienna: Ahh… That smile… Yes, I’m aware of that smile… She gave that to me after we had our first time together.

Jaune: W-What?! D-Did you tell her?!

Sienna: No, I am not a kiss, and tell kind of lady. But, Kali would know if we did it. It’s just that motherly cat faunas charm of hers. Although, I doubt my breathless moans didn’t hint what we were doing, no~?

Jaune: …

Jaune: So, uhhh… Do you know why she is smiling? Because I was talking about you, and then she started smiling. Are you two planning something?

Sienna: Are we planning something? However, am I planning something. That should be the real question you should be asking, no~?

Jaune: So that’s why she was smiling… Okay, I’ll bite; What are you planning?

Sienna: I’m going to make you fail your silly little, No Nut November challenge.

Jaune: Oh really now? And, how are you going to do that? It ends tonight, and you promised me you wouldn’t pounce me, again. So, with only hours on the clock, how are you going to make me lose?

Sienna: By playing into your type. Your… sexual preferences.

Jaune: Sexy mature older woman? So, you’ll be yourself then? Well good luck then, because I’ve been handling that for weeks. You’re gonna have to come up with something better.

Sienna: Yes, but you like, well dressed sexy mature older woman.

Jaune: Well dressed? Well, I do like a well dressed woman… But, what could you possibly wear that could break me?

Sienna: This for starters~!

Jaune: …

Sienna: What do you think, Jaune~?

Jaune: Talk about being tight in all the right places…

Sienna: Is it now? Well, I didn’t put it all on. As you can see it has a very… unique bunny tail with it. And, it’s rather tricky to… put it in~!

Jaune: I-I-In…?

Sienna: Yes~! So, Jaune can you help me put my little… cotton tail in~?

Jaune: …

~~~

Kali: Hmmm~!

Ghira: Now what’s giving you such a lovely smile like that my dear?

Kali: Oh… nothing~!

#rwby #jaune arc #sienna khan #kali belladonna #ghira belladonna #jaune x sienna #sienna x jaune #rwby tigerknight

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totheblood · 1 year

Note

Helloo :D

Can you do hcs of what it would be like to be friends w benefits with ellie 🫣

a/n: i been waiting on this one ngl... fwb is like the best and worst trope to me... IM SORRY IM SO SICK IN THE HEAD I LOVE U TOXIC ELLIE... also this is modern!ellie.. if this isn't what u meant then im so sorry and i will rewrite it.. not smut but smutty? AI AUDIOS AT THE END

p,s. i lost this when i finished it cause tumblr is the worst and i had to rewrite it so this is a testament of how much i love you guys and i am so sorry if u hate it

fwb!ellie headcanons

it kind of just happened one night after your friends abandoned you at a party and ellie offered to walk you home

you were always close friends with ellie but had gone to the party with a different friend group

...your straight friend group

and you were touch-starved

and ellie was TOUCH-STARVED

so when your tipsy ass asked ellie if she wanted to come inside with you she couldn't say yes fast enough

if she was being honest she was tipsy too

and high

and the alcohol coursing through both of your systems just amplified every touch

it would start gentle with soft kisses

but quickly pick up pace as you moan into her mouth

she wouldn't even make it to your bedroom, pushing you up against the wall and kneeing you

your moans only cause her to want to feel you, her asking for permission before ever touching you

her hands eagerly undo your belt before snapping the waistband of your panties with her fingers

she dips her fingers into your underwear, quickly rubbing circles into your clit

"shit... i'm barely touching you and you're already soaking wet."

"fuck, ellie."

"fuck, you feel so good... this all for me?"

but promptly after fucking you ellie feels sick to her stomach

it's like the reality that she has now fucked her very close friend, who she has always thought was pretty, hits her all at once

so she's quickly throwing her t-shirt on and frantically looking around your place for her flannel

"you're leaving?"

you break her out of her trance and as she looks at your swollen lips and worried eyes her brain is telling her: run, run, run

if it wasn't clear before ellie has no idea how to deal with her feelings

like at all

all she really knows how to feel is guilt & horniness

"yeah well, this wasn't anything serious... we're just friends, right?"

"right, yeah, i know that. it's just really late and cold. you can take the couch.

"right... thanks."

yes, ellie is disappointed that you weren't disappointed and yes, that's toxic

but you were disappointed and there is no way in hell you would be caught dead admitting that

ellie is gone by the morning

it continues every night for about a month straight

one of you is either calling or texting and ending up in the other's bed night after night

ellie will occasionally spend the night (on your couch) and wake you up for your morning classes

or wake up early and buy you breakfast

she tells herself that since she's not cooking the breakfast it doesn't make it coupley

sometimes you two will go out for dinner beforehand... it's not a date it's what ellie likes to call a 'pre-workout snack'

you two will study together and celebrate your grades on tests by trying new things out with each other

"you got an A-? so i'm getting fucking lucky tonight… hell yea"

soon enough she's leaving every party with you

and waiting by the phone for you to call

and thinking about what you are doing

or what you are wearing

and it's all really nice

until it begins to overwhelm her and suddenly she feels like she can't breathe

she didn't like how everyone began to call you a "couple" or how much it bothered her when you would talk about people you were attracted to

or how she wanted to punch their faces in

so she begins to avoid all your texts and calls and avoids going to every party she's invited to

she doesn't even check your social media anymore

it all comes to a head when she's walking on campus and spots you coming from the opposite direction causing her to immediately turn around

"hey, ellie! what the fuck?"

she turns around, an awkward look on her face and all she manages to say is: "what's up?"

"what's up? what's up is that you've been avoiding me. all my texts and calls. what gives?"

"i'm just over it. it got too... close.. for me. you're not my girlfriend so stop acting like you are!"

the minute it leaves her mouth and she watches your face shift from anger to sadness she feels sick to her stomach

"wait, i didn't mean it l-"

"fuck you, ellie."

she goes home and has to stop herself from throwing up

she has no one to talk to about this because she knows she's being an asshole

to make matters worse all she really wants to do is talk to you about it

and she can't

so she just wallows in her apartment and avoids you as much as she can

until she can't

her heart nearly stops when she receives a call from you in the middle of the night and you're crying on the other end asking her to pick you up

"ellie, i'm so so sorry... i wouldn't do this to you if i didn't have a choice but they all left me and i didn't know who else to call and... i need you."

"sh, it's okay... hold on, baby. i will be right there. everything will be okay."

she blows through a couple of stop signs on the way to get you and her heart breaks at the sight of your tear-stained face

"hey, are you o-"

"please just drive, ellie."

ellie takes you back to your place and you fully expect her to leave but she helps you upstairs, takes off your makeup, and tucks you in

you fully expected her to leave but when you wake up she's there in your kitchen

and she made you breakfast

"ellie, what are you d-"

"hey, you're up. do you think you could sit down, have some eggs, and just listen to what i have to say? can you do that?"

"um, sure?"

she takes a deep breath before starting and you make note of how she avoids eye contact with you

"i'm not good at this… or i thought i wasn't good at it and it scared the shit out of me. my whole world became you and i was looking forward to seeing you, and talking to you, and touching you, and i got so scared that it could all get taken away at any moment. so scared that i just sabotaged the one good thing in my life. i'm so sorry, is there anyway you could forgive me?"

"of course i can, you freak"

ai audios:

#asked & answered #Anonymous #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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phoward89 · 1 month

Text

Masterlist

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. DarkCoriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus

Chapter 2:

While Coriolanus is in his office, high up on the top floor of the Citadel, raging and having an internal meltdown about your relationship, you’re walking down a crowded downtown sidewalk, hand in hand with Odysseus. The two of you were heading to a cafe near the office for lunch.

“I'll cook you dinner tonight. How does that sound for a third date?” The bronze-haired man offered, his smile full of sunshine and dimples. Odysseus' smile was contagious: you couldn't help, but to smile widely back at him.

“Last time I had a man cook for me I was 18.” You honestly admitted as a fleeting memory of Coriolanus, all skin and bones, stirring a pot of cabbage popped into your mind.

“I know that it's rude to ask a woman her age, but I must know, how old are you?”

“I’m not offended, Odysseus.” You assured him before revealing your age. “I'm 24, by the way.”

Leaning in, as if he was going to tell you a big secret, he smiled- large and scandalously, and revealed, “I'm 28.” Bumping your shoulder lightly with his, Odysseus teasingly chuckled, “Guess it's time for me to bust out the wheelchair since I'm the Old Man of the Sea in this relationship and you're the youthful mermaid.”

You let out a laugh, a genuine laugh, at your boyfriend's words. You've only known him for a day, but so far he's proven to be nothing, but respectful and kind. He's unlike anyone you've ever met before.

Odysseus was very bubbly and it was refreshing. After being with someone so cold and calloused for so long, being with a warm soul was like a breath of fresh air.

“I don't know much about such things. Is it something common to District 4?”

Odysseus nodded, only to say. “The Old Man of the Sea is the water god, Triton.” instead of leaving it there, he decided to explain the legend of the sea god to you. “He's very wise and it's said that if you can manage to capture him and hold on as he changes into many forms that he can answer any questions that you have, about anything at all.”

“Had anyone ever caught him?” You curiously asked as the cafe came into view.

“Some claim to have caught him, no one really pays them any mind, now do they?” He chuckled.

Odysseus' smile brightly widened as he animatedly explained the lore of mermaids to you, “And a mermaid, according to folklore, is a mythological water spirit that's the most beautiful siren of a woman on the top half, while having a fish tail instead of legs for the bottom half.” Coming to a stop at the cafe, he held the door open for you while continuing his sea creature lecture with, “They can both wreak havoc by causing shipwrecks and can be benevolent by granting boons; some even forgo their own mermen and fall in love with human men.”

Guiding you to one of the bistro tables (since the cafe was on of those seat yourself and someone will be with you in a moment type places), he told you with a faraway look in his sea-green eyes. “My Pops says that my Ma was so beautiful that he's positive that she was a mermaid who struck a deal to gain human form.”

From the way his voice slightly quaked while mentioning his mother, you knew that she was most likely dead. How did you know? Because Coriolanus’ voice did the same thing if and when he ever mentioned his late mother (which was rare and far in-between).

“How old were you when she passed, if you don't mind me asking?” You tentatively asked, knowing that it might be a touchy subject, while taking your.seat at a windowside Odysseus brought you to.

“I don't mind you asking, honey.” The bronze haired man assured you, taking his seat across from you at the table. Grabbing the menus from the display rack on the edge table, near the window, and handing one over to you, he simply said, “I was about 9.” Opening his menu, he sadly explained, “There was a hurricane in 4 that completely flattened the beach side community her family's house was at. Even tho she was a strong swimmer, she drowned.” Staring a hole into his menu, he bitterly spat, “President Ravinstill refused to send help or aid, or to even evacuate that part of District 4 because Panem was in the early days of the war.”

“You and Poseidon were here, in the Capitol, while she was trapped in 4.” You concluded while scanning your own menu.

“Yes, that's how I ended up living a privileged life in Capitol City while my mother and her family’s beach house was swept off of its foundation; lost to the depths of Davy Jones' locker.”

“My father was an officer in 12 during the war. His commander helped him smuggle my mother, older brother, and me here, to the Capitol, during the Dark Days.”

“He was found swinging in the trees outside of 12 with General Snow, wasn't he?”

“Yea.” You nodded, only to change the subject by announcing what you thought looked appetizing on the menu.

Coriolanus was barely holding it together whenever he walked into his penthouse. As he went to hang up his coat and place his leather briefcase on the side table by the coat rack, he felt his Grandma'am’s eyes on him.

Her stare was scrutinizing, making him feel as if he was a little boy again- getting scolded. He hates that feeling. The feeling of not being perfect, of failing. He strives to be the best, at everything he does, so Grandma'am staring him down with thoughts of shame unnerved him.

Grandma'am didn't have to say it, he just knew that she was disappointed in him. But why? He's successful as the Head Gamemaker, he's going to announce his run for Senate, and he's engaged to be married to a young lady from a very prestigious banking family. He's well on his way to success.

On his way to becoming the President of Panem in a few years time. Something that Grandma'am has always wanted for Coriolanus. Shouldn't she be proud of him, not staring him down with shame?

“How have I disappointed you, Grandma’am?” Coriolanus asked the old woman, keeping his voice cold and even, as he shrugged out of his favorite maroon trench coat; hanging it up on the corner rack after placing his briefcase on the nearby sphere shaped side table. Made out of mahogany, of course. Only the best for the Snow family.

Which is why you feel like you're not a fixture in the penthouse anymore. You're not good enough to be a part of the Snow family; to be with Coriolanus. There's something better out there for him, but you've come to accept it and move on.

Coriolanus hasn't moved on, but he won't allow himself to admit that he's fucking up his life by listening to Strabo Plinth when it came to the affairs of his heart. Oh, yes, that's right, the platinum blonde man turned into a cold creature that destroyed his own heart; refuses to acknowledge love. All he knows now is hate, indifference, and lust.

Truthfully, he's in denial when it comes to you and his feelings. He just chalks it up to being possessive and lustful over you, but honestly it's love. A dark, twisted take on love since he's a broken man and doesn't know how to love, but it's love none the less that he feels for you.

“Your father would be ashamed of you, Coriolanus. I know that I am; so is your cousin, Tigris.” The white haired woman, dressed in all her fineries, told her grandson. “Most of all, your mother would be heartbroken knowing that her son turned his back on the love of his life.”

Grandma'am’s words cut Coriolanus deep as he walked over to the sitting area in the main room. Her words cut so deep, it felt like a long double edged sword piercing through the spot where his black, cold, dead heart is locked up in his chest.

His jaw clenched painfully as he stormed gracefully, thanks to his long legs, over to the open sitting chair across from his Grandma’am. He felt his soul bleeding in his chest as he sat down. The old Snow family matriarch’s words burned Coriolanus worse than if he bathed in gasoline and lit himself on fire with a match.

But Coriolanus Snow’s a very proud man; he won't admit that Grandma'am's words hurt him. That they rang true; made his conscious berate him. Made him feel a pang of self loathing and guilt.

No…

Coriolanus will act like he didn't do anything wrong, even tho he did.

“I didn't turn my back on the love of my life because I don't have one.” Coriolanus denied in a flat out lie.

Lie, lie, lie!

You're the love of his life and he knows it, but he's just too goddamn afraid to admit it. So fucking scared of being hurt, used, manipulated, and weakened by love. He’d rather deny his feelings for you then face them.

Coriolanus can face anything headon, except for his feelings. The man didn't do feelings. And that was such a shame, because he truly did love you.

Too bad he was too focused on his political ambitions; couldn't see how much you loved him and vice versa.

Grandma'am blanched at Coriolanus’ words. Those words hurt her deeply. She loves you, as if you were one of her own, and knew how large of a role you played in her grandson's life. And to hear Coriolanus write the love you too share so easily, as if it was nothing, made her wonder where she went wrong with him? Tigress turned out fine, so why was Coriolanus so…so cold and dead towards the girl that he's loved his entire life?

Watching Coriolanus as he reached forward to grab a piece of candy from the large 3-tier candy dish set in the middle of the glass coffee table, Grandma'am sadly wondered, “I didn't raise you to be like this, Coriolanus. How can you be so cold when it comes to Y/N, your sweetheart?”

“She was never my sweetheart, Grandma'am.” Coriolanus retorted coldly. The frostiness in his baritone even sent a chill down his own spine, but it was too late to take it back now. The glacial sharp sentence was now in the universe, floating around; sure to manifest and take hold.

The remark and the attitude that accompanied it would surely come back to bite Coriolanus in the ass; to haunt him. There's no way on earth, in heaven, or in hell those cruel and icy words won't find their way back to you. Because they will…

“I see.” Was Grandma’am’s clipped response. Those two words held so much sadness and disappointment in them. The old woman's wrinkled face turned sour as she informed her grandson, “I just hope that she didn't ruin her life sitting around; waiting for your love. She turned down quite a few wealthy suitors, even a General’s son, as I understand from Tigress- who felt that Y/N was wasting her time on you because you've changed- turned hateful and cold.”

What? You turned down opportunity after opportunity to get out of poverty; all because of your silly notion of being in love with him? Of wanting more than what he can offer you?

You willingly choose to work for scraps, having your ideas used by your boss- to be claimed by them as theirs instead- for advertisements and marketing plots, instead of being pampered on and made a socialite by a rich man. What’s wrong with you? Were you truly foolish enough to believe that love could pay the bills; could be more than enough for you? Were you foolish enough to want the insecurity of love over the security of wealth?

Coriolanus never took you for a foolish girl, but now…well he doesn't know what to think. Why would you hold out hope for him to love you, to pick you, to give you things he's incapable of if you weren't foolish. You knew as well as he did that he has to do certain things to climb to the top, to reach his political goals, and that entering a union of love with you isn't one of those things.

“Waiting around for me to love her; to propose a marriage that would only hinder my political aspirations, makes her one of the biggest fools in Panem, Grandma'am.” Heartlessly shot out of Coriolanus’ mouth before he could think twice. He didn't even recognize his voice, but it truly was his.

“I don't know what happened to you, grandson, to make you so hateful. That girl's loved you ever since the Dark Days and you seemed to love her back, but I now see that you were just using her. Using her like that little songbird of 12 used you up years ago during the 10th Hunger Games.” Grandma’am spat at Coriolanus, causing the hardened young man to just flash her a deadly look. A look that would make most people cower in fear. But, Grandma'am Snow wasn't like most people. She did raise General Crassus Snow after all and he had some of the most hateful pale blue eyes in the Capitol.

Coriolanus' face was cold as stone, his eyes flashing with fury, as he seethed, “Don't you bring up that dead district whore to me, you old bitch. I'll take any of your other ramblings, but not talk about that songbird.”

The disrespect and loathing in her grandson’s tone worried Grandma'am. She's never seen Coriolanus in such a light, but she didn't like it.

Her grandson was nothing like his father. No, Coriolanus was worse than Crassus. Despite being a strict man that believed in totalitarian rulership, Crassus Snow was capable of love. He loved his wife dearly and unconditionally. But his son, well, it seems like Coriolanus has closed himself off to love.

And that scares Grandma'am.

“I think, since you're newly engaged, that it's time for you to find your own penthouse to live in.” The Snow matriarch told her iciscle of a grandson while watching him lean forward to grab another piece of candy from the extravagant candy dish.

Popping the piece of candy into his mouth, Coriolanus simply said, “If that's what you want, then I'll move out.” Standing up, he said, “I'll go call the Plinths' realtor, see if there's any penthouses available in one of the new Luxe buildings downtown.”

No, Coriolanus wasn't going to see if there was a penthouse available in any of the new Luxe buildings, but in your specific building. Because, by living in your building, he'll be able to give you gifts without being stopped by that troublesome doorman with high morals. He'll also be able to fix things with you, get you to see his logic and agree to come back to him. Coriolanus will be able to break you and Odysseus Odair, the Capitol’s biggest manwhore, up before you become too enthralled by him. Before he loses you to him.

Despite denying his feelings for you and calling you a foolish girl for loving him, the thought of you possibly falling in love with somebody else terrifies him. It eats away at his soul, knowing that right know you're probably thinking about the date Odysseus took you on last night.

Coriolanus is jealous that you're moving on (after a damn month!) with somebody that he views unworthy of you. And he's going to put an end to things, make you return to his side.

And the perfect way to do that is living in your building. So, hopefully, Coriolanus can purchase the penthouse in your Luxe complex.

After a long day at work, you went home and got changed into something comfortable before going across the hall to Odysseus’. You felt a bit nervous knocking on his door. Yes, he did invite you over and said he'd cook dinner for a third date, but it's been a while since you've been invited to a man's apartment. In fact, the last time you went to a man's apartment was the night that you ended things with your ex.

When the door opened, revealing Odysseus in the doorway dressed in a simple tank and shorts, you felt your mouth go dry. His tan skin was glowing, bronze hair effortlessly framing his shoulders in waves. But it was the face splitting smile, brighter than the sun, that took your breath away.

How is it that he can always flash you that smile every time he's around you? Can he truly be that happy to see you? You last saw him a few hours ago for lunch, he couldn't have missed you that much- could he?

“Come on in.” Odysseus urged you, pulling you into the apartment with an excited look on dimples face. “I got shrimp and asparagus risotto on the stove.” He told you, gently closing the door as you walked into his place; taking in the decor.

The decor was nothing like how you expected a modern, upscale apartment to look like. The walls, instead of being the standard white, cream, or light grey that's standard in the building, were different shades of blue and green. Also, you noticed how a pair of hammock-like chairs made up entirely of rope and nets hung from the ceiling. Instead of a sofa, like most people had in their apartments, Odysseus had floor cushions that were shaped to resemble a couch. The coffee table was a chunk of driftwood with glass on it, while the TV was set on a table painted various shades of blue to resemble waves. And the wall decorations of various shells really set off the beachy vibe of the apartment.

“Is this how houses are decorated in District 4?” You asked, standing in the middle of the mainroom- taking everything in.

“Yea.” Odysseus nodded. “Wait until you see the kitchen, you'll love it.” He told you, only to grab your hand and drag you into the kitchen.

The kitchen, that was decorated with mounted fish all over the walls. The beautiful white cabinets had all of their doors taken off. The back walls of the cabinets were painted teal, creating a contrast with the white shelves and frame. And the once white marble countertops were painted (Yes, he painted over marble!) seafoam green. The kitchen island stools looked to be made out of a mix of driftwood and rope, which made you wonder how sturdy they were.

“Sit down, honey. The risotto’s almost done.” Your new boyfriend beamed, guiding you to sit down on one of the stools (that you were iffy about). “You're going to love this risotto; recipe’s a simple one from 4, but it's delicious.” Odysseus told yoy, going over to the stove and stirring the contents in the pan so it wouldn't burn.

“Do you eat anything other than seafood?” You asked, hoping that he did. Honestly, you didn't eat seafood religiously, so if Odysseus did then…well…guess you'll have to deal with it.

“Fish’s healthy for you, Y/N.” The heir to the largest luxury cruiseline out of District 4 told you while taking the risotto pan off of the stove and placing it onto the countertop.

Which was bad, because without a trivet to rest on the heat from the pan can ruin the counter. Does he not give a shit about ruining his counter? Hell, Coriolanus would be having a stroke if you pulled that shit- placing a hot pan on his marble counter without using a trivet.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a minute, wait a goddamn minute! Why the fuck are you thinking about Coriolanus, your ex, when you're about to have a nice home cooked meal with Odysseus, your current boyfriend? What the hell's wrong with you?

What? Are you going to be that girl that compares apples to oranges in bed too?

Odysseus’ warm hands skirt across your body as his mouth leaves feather soft kisses all over your skin, but it feels foreign to you. Honestly, you're not used to soft caresses and lightly peppered kisses. Of lips pressing against yours firmly, but faintly. You weren't used to a man swiping the tip of his tongue along your lower lip in a way that was both sensual and questioning all at the same time.

No.

You're used to hungry, sloppy butterfly kisses which turn into bruising bites all over your skin. You're used to cold, rough hands squeezing and grabbing at you. You're used to lips harshly clashing against yours in hungry desperate kisses. Kisses that seemed to be from a man starved and he shoved his tongue down your throat without warning. Desperate kisses that turned into opened mouth ones, complete with spit swallowing, tongue sucking, and bottom lip biting.

You're not used to softness. Instead, you're used to roughness. But perhaps you could get used to softness.

Or at least you tell yourself you'll get used to softness as you lay naked underneath Odysseus, splayed out on the floor cushions, as he languidly rolls his hips against yours. His movements are reminiscent of ocean waves crashing against the shore. His thrusts were slow, but powerful.

You felt like you're going to explode as Odysseus’ mellow movements slowly worked passion into you. Your pussy begged to be pounded, craved for his cock to bruise against the spongy spot inside of it. But instead of brute force, your cunt got gently caressed by Odysseus’ large cock (well, he had the length, but not the girth you're used too. Oh god, are you really comparing your boyfriend's cock to your ex’s cock? Yes, yes you are and you'll probably go to hell for it.) evertime he dragged it against your tight walls, only to push back into you again.

You bucked your hips, whining out, “Faster, Odysseus. Harder, please.”

Odysseus just smiled lazily, making his dimples protrude deeply in his cheeks. Bringing one of his hands up to stroke your cheek, he said, “I see you're not used to making love, honey. But, you'll get used to being worshiped like the goddess you are.”

His words were sweet and sent your heart fluttering a mile a minute. And the smoldering look he gave you as he snapped his hips just a little bit deeper, a little bit harder, for you and your head spinning.

And soon, before you knew it, your cunt’s clamping down around his cock and your nails (no longer crimson, but now a simple French manicure) are digging into his shoulder while you whimper, “Odysseus.” over and over as you cum.

Odysseus after feeling you cum around his cock, coating it in your stick juices, quickly pulled out of you. The feeling of emptiness crashed into you harder than any storm wave hitting a pier ever could as Odysseus knelt between your legs, quickly pumping his cock until he cum with your name on his lips. The feeling of his warm cum spurting out onto your belly made you twitch in surprise.

You weren't used to having hot cum shoot onto your body, you were used to being filled up with it. Was there a reason why your boyfriend didn't want to cum inside of you?

But before you could ask him, he was pushing himself to stand while announcing, “I'll get you a towel so you can clean up.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded, laying on the floor cushions while spent with white pearl like seed slowly sliding down your stomach.

After a few minutes, Odysseus came back with a towel. He gave it to you, before collecting his shorts and pulling them on. As you cleaned his cum off of your stomach, he gathered your clothes- which you thought was odd.

Coriolanus never gathered your clothes for you after fucking you. No, he used to pull you into his arms; pressing you to lay into his side, while carding his fingers thru your hair. Some times, after a particularly rough and hard fucking, he'd draw a bath for the two of you or he'd hold you in bed while telling you that you did so well; that he was proud of you for not using the safeword- only to remind you that next time if you need to use the safe word (red) that you can and he won't think any less of you.

But you're not with the platinum blonde man (who doesn't give a shit about you, who's engaged to the heir of Panem's biggest bank now) anymore, you're now with a bronze haired man who’s habits you'll just have to learn. Have to get used to.

Flopping down on the seat cushions, Odysseus handed you over your clothes. “I thought you might want to get dressed so you won't be could while we watch tv.”

“You want to watch tv?” You asked, finding it strange that he brought up tv instead of cuddling.

“Yea, there's supposed to be a fishing documentary on soon and I don't wanna miss it.”

A fishing documentary…Of course, he wants to watch something about District 4. Well, you can't fault him for that. He has a tie in a way to the district and just wants to learn all he can about it, since he resides in the Capitol.

Plus, you suppose that you can cuddle with him while watching the documentary together.

Coriolanus walked behind the realtor (a middle-aged man that Strabo Plinth had on speed dial) as he opened the door to the penthouse suite of the Luxe apartment building that you reside in. “You're in luck, Mr. Snow, that nobody's applied for this unit; that I was able to fit you in for an after hours showing as well.”

“Yes, Mr. Grand, it seems that I'm very lucky that I'm the only one inquiring about this penthouse.” Coriolanus told the realtor, a calculating line of a smile on his face, as he took in the vast space of the main room.

It was twice as big as the Corso penthouse; surely you'd be impressed by it. This was your building, even if you did live on a lower floor (where the working-poor of the Capitol were), so Coriolanus knew that you’d like his new penthouse once he convinced you to see it. And, despite just starting the tour with the realtor, it was his place.

The platinum blonde master manipulator was going to move in as soon as possible, because it was the only way to get you back. He had to get you away from that peacock Odair before you did something stupid, like let him seduce you and get knocked up. You're not allowed to get knocked up by anyone, other than Coriolanus that is.

Yes, Coriolanus feels that he's the only one that can give you children. Nobody else better put a baby in you, unless they have a death wish.

But unknown to Coriolanus, Odysseus isn't ready for children yet (He may or may not have a few baby mamas and paternity test disputes floating around that his rich daddy Poseidon’s taking care of) which is why he practiced the pull out method with you while ‘making love’ on his floor cushions.

If only Coriolanus knew…well…he'd be having a coronary.

Not about the pullout method (no, that's something he'd be thankful for cause he's the only one allowed to cum inside of you), but about you making love to Odysseus on the floor. That fact right there would make Coriolanus made enough to kill. He's already jealous that you went to dinner with Odair, but if he ever found out that you fucked him…oh boy…it'd be like a throat punch to his ego.

It'd also be a dagger through his cold, dead, black, too small heart that secretly holds love for you.

But what Coriolanus doesn’t know won't hurt him. Besides, he's engaged to Livia Cardew and should be worried about her, not you. But, no matter what, he'll always worry about you because you're the one he wants in his life- despite driving you away by entering an arranged match for money, power, and glory.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

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gaymaramada · 7 months

Text

Rise! Boys reacting to S/O using their full name:

Y’all know that tiktok trend where ppl were calling their partners by their first name? This is basically that.

Leonardo

He’s definitely caught off guard, physically recoiling when you say it, “Whoa?? Government name??”

He makes a few jokes about it but inside he’s genuinely nervous that you’re mad at him.

When you don’t stop, he immediately assumes he did something to upset you and begins to defend himself.

“Look, I know I’ve had to cancel our last few dates, but these villains are getting crazy! I’m not trying to avoid you, I just— how about we do something tonight, yeah? I promise I won’t flake out, okay?”

Is low key on his knees begging for you to forgive him.

He doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for, poor thing.

He’s extra sweet to you for the rest of the day, going out of his way to compliment you, ask how you’re doing, care for you—

You two are out and he breaks into a full sprint to open a door for you that you won’t reach for another three minutes.

When you eventually explain it was just a trend, he gets super embarrassed but tries to brush it off.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I knew that. I was just playing along for the joke, heh. Duh.”

Donatello

Uh, no. He must have misheard you.

He does a full 180 at his workbench and all but yanks his goggles off his eyes, “Pardon, what did you just call me?”

He’s almost offended because that is not his name when you two are alone.

Hell, it’s not even his name when you’re not alone — it’s just Donnie.

He immediately abandons whatever he’s working on and starts typing up a list of all the pet names you two use with each other.

“As you are already aware, my terms of endearment tend to range from ‘dear’ to ‘darling’ to ‘my love’ in the majority of our interactions.”

“You often refer to me as ‘D’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and — my personal favorite — ‘Einstein’. Never once in the length of our relationship have you ever called me by my full name.”

He’s petty about it because, in truth, he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much.

It’s just his name.

But something about the way you say it so casually just feels very wrong.

When you tell him about the trend, he’s even more perplexed.

“What kind of ‘trend’ is that? That is the lamest idea I’ve ever heard of. Please, for the sake of both our sanities, just call me Donnie.”

“… or Einstein. That’s good, too.”

Raphael

Oh, he is immediately worried and it shows, “Are you okay? Did… did I do something?”

The two of you use pet names religiously, so hearing you say all three syllables of his name is jarring.

He’ll ask you if there’s anything he can do for you and give you space when he thinks you need it.

Which would be very sweet if you were actually upset, but you’re not.

He misses being called ‘Raphie’ and ‘bubs’ and ‘sweetheart’.

Eventually he takes your hands and says, “I’m sorry if I made you upset, or if I’m just being dramatic, but… Raph loves you, and he just wants you to remember that.”

And that’s all it takes for you to cave in and tell him about the trend.

“Aw, honey, don’t do that to me! You know I get all worried about that kind of stuff. I’m glad you’re not mad at me, though — I was starting to miss your nicknames.”

“Sorry, bubs,” You say, and his tail is wagging immediately.

Michelangelo

He’s not too phased at first.

Like yes, that’s his name.

But then you keep doing it and he starts getting confused.

He doesn’t get why you’re doing it but he won’t stop you.

He does get a bit self-conscious after a bit, though, when it’s the only thing you call him.

He tries to subtly guide you into using nicknames throughout the day.

“Don’t worry, Mikey’s got it!”

“Hey, there you are! Your loving sweet potato made you some lunch!”

“Aw, come on Y/N! Could you say no to this cutie pie?”

Eventually, he’s had enough, and you find yourself in a stern confrontation with Dr. Delicate Touch.

When you explain that it’s just a trend, he immediately pulls back.

“Oh! That makes way more sense! I was starting to think you’d just forgotten all my pet names, or something!”

#i know i don’t usually make these kinds of posts but this idea wouldn’t leave my head #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo x reader #donatello x reader #raphael x reader #michelangelo x reader #leonardo hamato #raphael hamato #mikey hamato #donatello hamato #imagines #x reader

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift.

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.”

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night.

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend.

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner.

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing.

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote.

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face.

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you.

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen.

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen.

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus.

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back.

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers.

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets.

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone.

You chuckle in response.

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came.

And will still be one after you.

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself.

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly.

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments.

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges.

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say,

I got you.

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar.

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even.

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure.

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something.

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service. You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus.

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top.

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts.

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece.

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised.

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you.

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy.

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks.

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start.

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone.

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar.

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband.

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.”

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about.

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb.

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.”

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next.

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.”

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her.

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings.

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.”

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely.

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly.

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service.

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out.

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him.

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook.

“Good service tonight,” he says back.

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies.

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t.

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile.

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you.

“Hey!”

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again.

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively.

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you.

“Always, Carm.”

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack.

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh.

“Is that even a real question?”

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed.

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant.

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder.

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop.

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara.

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself.

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had.

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate.

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil.

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times.

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him.

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no.

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta.

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again.

No awkward tension of things left unsaid.

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t.

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen.

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs.

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you.

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks.

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself.

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully.

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.”

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh.

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs.

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face.

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.”

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face.

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm.

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin.

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel.

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now.

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless.

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that.

On your favorite fucking dish.

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit.

That he only got them for you.

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever.

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt.

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you.

It’s just you and him.

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath.

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip.

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going.

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been.

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you.

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now?

Now, could be different, if you’d let it.

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it.

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead.

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you.

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently.

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can.

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off.

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours.

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off.

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body.

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing.

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is.

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless.

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips.

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off.

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand.

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care.

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours.

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you.

You both gasp at the feel of each other.

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment.

“This okay?”

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts.

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.”

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts.

But you’re in desperate need for more.

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.”

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much.

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls – anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight.

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you.

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice.

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain.

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips.

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses.

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say.

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.”

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him.

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways.

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse.

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had.

It feels… magnificent.

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder.

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

#carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #the bear marcus #sydney adamu #the bear tina #richie jerimovich #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

it's sweet (explicit)

genre: a fluffy lil sickfic

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: you forgot to call out sick from your dick appointment, but he stays anyway.

word count: 4.3k

contains: no smut just fluff????? new year new me 😎 but as this is fuckbuddies to maybe-lovers and there are certainly a few references in here to sex, because of who i am as a person, it's enough that i'm tagging it explicit anyway lmao. but this is all fluff! reader has the flu, tae is a sweet sweet boi and takes care of her, it's all a bit sappy~ 🤧

A/N: happy new year!!! and a very happy belated birthday to my capricorn prince 💜 this soft little idea got stuck in my brain and wouldn't let go, and i had a lot more fun writing it than expected. plus i feel like i only wrote tae as a menace in 2022 (sorry to tae 👹) so i had to right my wrongs with this one lmao. it was a nice interlude before i jump into LDOMLT ch11 (the final chapter 😭) - i hope you all enjoy and that your 2023s are off to a pleasant start!!!

read on AO3!

~*~

You genuinely enjoy being single.

With your last relationship officially in the trash, you’ve found yourself settled into a comfortable peace. There’s no man in your life to mess up your plans, to force you to have to compromise or share anything, to suck up your energy and domestic labor like some kind of emotional vampire. You can do what you want, whenever you want, and you have a reliable rotation of both sex toys and fuckbuddies to keep you physically satisfied when the need arises.

Being single, you have come to learn, is fucking great.

Except when you get sick.

A knock at your apartment door drags you out of your DayQuil-induced slumber. You move to sit up with a sniffle before letting yourself drop back into your veritable nest of blankets on the couch, struck with the immediate recollection: it’s just the food you ordered. You’d specifically put in a request that they leave it at the door, but maybe the delivery person is just being nice and letting you know it’s there.

Except then they knock again.

And ring the doorbell.

“Jesus,” you groan to yourself, aggressively enough that you’re nearly sent into a fresh coughing fit, but you manage to choke down the spasm in your lungs as you drag yourself to standing. You cross the short distance from your couch to the front door, sure you look like death warmed over, and swing the door open.

At first, you’re certain it’s the DayQuil fucking with you.

“Taehyung?”

The corner of his mouth pulls up as he blinks sweetly at you, expressive almond eyes peeking out beneath untidy dark hair— extra fluffy today, like he’s just washed it and waltzed out of the house without any styling. His clothes tell the same story, a plain gray hoodie and joggers, creased a little like he’d just pulled them off his bedroom floor, though everything looks fresh off the runway on him.

As your eyes trail down his frame, you take in the container of ramen you ordered, held easily in one of his large hands, his long fingers hooking over the side.

His presence is typically a welcome one, particularly on Friday nights like tonight, but those are circumstances where you tend to be a little more… put together. So why is he here tonight?

“When did you start working for D—”

The food delivery service name dies on your tongue as your thoughts finally catch up with your mouth. He’s here tonight because it’s Friday, and this is what you do on Fridays. He’s here because you didn’t cancel. You’d had the thought in a drowsy half-awake state between naps, then had promptly rolled over and pressed your face into the pillow, telling yourself you’d remember to text Taehyung when you woke up.

Which of course, you did not. And so here he is, having clearly intercepted your delivery. And, it now occurs to you, having to witness how absolutely godawful you must look in your stained sweatpants, your hair surely a mess from a day spent napping on the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you mutter, quickly crossing your arms over your baggy t-shirt, suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re not wearing a bra. Why that matters when you’re standing in front of a man who regularly leaves hickeys all over your tits, you’re not sure, but in this moment it somehow feels like it does.

“Tae,” you take a step back, trying to keep him out of your germ radius. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to text you. I’m super sick, I think it’s the flu. You should go.”

He frowns a little, his eyes jumping from you down to the takeout container in his hands. “This is like, barely warm.”

That makes you smile a little despite yourself. A very Taehyung greeting.

“Yeah, well.” You roll your eyes. “I pay twice as much so it can take an hour and be cold by the time it gets here. Makes sense, right?”

His dazzling smile at your sarcastic remark only heightens your own self-consciousness, and you quickly extend a hand for the container.

“Sorry to make you come all this way. Hopefully next week I’ll be back to normal.”

Taehyung nods, yet makes no move to hand over the soup he’s currently holding hostage. “You should rest. Let me heat it up for you.”

You can’t help but wonder what he expects to happen when he crosses the threshold, and that makes you heave a sigh, then quickly bury the cough that chases after it into the crook of your elbow.

Thankfully your voice doesn’t give out when you manage to answer him. “I’m serious, Tae. I’m not—” you pause, considering how to phrase it: desperate to be railed? “—you know, the way I usually am on Fridays. Nothing’s gonna happen tonight. Except maybe you’ll get sick.”

He shrugs, like there are worse things. “I get it. But you shouldn’t be alone.”

At least he’s been sufficiently warned, you think to yourself, and then you relent, leaving the front door of your apartment swung wide as you step back across the living room to promptly collapse onto the couch again. You bury your face in the blankets with a muffled groan as you hear Taehyung shut the door behind him, then make his way into the kitchen.

As is typical with any man that enters your kitchen, you expect to have to walk Taehyung step-by-step through how to do everything. But, to your surprise, he asks no questions: he seems to find a good-sized pot and figure out how to work the stove all on his own, and you can hear him humming softly to himself as he goes.

Truly a credit to the male species, you think to yourself with a bitter laugh.

You collapse back against the cushions, a little too aware of the fuckbuddy in your kitchen to be able to drift off to sleep entirely. Nevertheless, you still find yourself slipping into a haze, your eyes dropping shut just to snap open again at the tap of a bowl being set down on the coffee table in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you sit up and stare down at your ramen, only to find two halves of a soft-boiled egg staring back up at you. You’d ordered from your favorite place in the city, which is easily the best ramen you’ve had in your life, but you know those fuckers charge extra for an egg. Which is why your cheap ass never orders one.

But here one is. So that means…

Taehyung drops down onto the couch next to you before you can even finish compiling the thought in your brain, but he must be able to read the look on your face. “Oh, do you not like eggs?”

“I— no,” you answer quickly. “I mean yes. I mean, I like them, I just… Thank you.”

You glance up in time to see him shrug, his mouth twisting a little, like he’s suddenly made shy by his own kindness. “Gotta get your protein in,” he offers casually, and you laugh over the steam rising up from your bowl.

He keeps a tentative cushion’s distance away from you, but you can feel his eyes watching as you take your first sip of the rich, warm broth. While you slurp it down, you tell yourself not to get greedy with Taehyung’s time: you expect this will be it, that with his act of kindness done for the day, he’ll get to his feet and be on his way. As soon as your front door slams shut behind him, he’ll probably be pulling up his text messages with one of the many other options that must be available to him.

You try to ignore the way that thought makes your stomach twist, to just eat your damn soup and not think about it. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

But to your surprise, Taehyung leans forward and snatches the TV remote off your coffee table with a triumphant sigh before slumping back against the couch, like he’s settling in. “Do you wanna watch something?”

You shake your head as you take another sip before answering. “You really don’t have to stay, Tae. I can appreciate that I’m not a lot of fun to be around tonight. And obviously you didn’t come here to watch me eat ramen.”

Already starting to scroll through your streaming services, Taehyung runs his free hand through his hair with a knowing, slightly horny smile. “Depends on what you mean by eat ramen.”

You nearly choke on a noodle, but he’s otherwise distracted, mouth dropping open a little as he clicks into one of the options.

“Oh, I know what we can watch.”

When he pulls up A Charlie Brown Christmas and promptly presses play, you can’t help smirking. “Christmas? You’re, what, five days late?”

Taehyung’s mouth opens again, like he’s going to say something, and then he just smiles that same self-conscious smile. “Ah, I just like the music.”

His long fingers splay out in front of him, miming along to the opening melody while he adopts the faux-cool expression of a jazz pianist. You hide a giggle in another sip of broth, and he quickly shrugs the impression off, crossing his arms over his chest as if to keep his limbs under control.

“And it’s cute,” he adds, voice halfway between shy and sentimental. “The little tree.”

It occurs to you now that you’ve never seen Taehyung so… your brain can’t find the right word. He’s just different tonight.

You nod as you slurp up a strand of noodles, and you can’t deny that he’s right as the movie plays on. It’s been years since you’ve seen it, not since you were a kid, but it’s just as enjoyable now, somehow timeless. You find yourself smiling softly as you finish your meal and settle back against the couch, tugging the blanket up to your chin.

All at once, Taehyung jumps up, and you watch dumbfounded as he silently scoops up your dishes and disappears off to the kitchen. When you hear the tap switch on, your jaw drops in sheer disbelief, and you sit up again, peeking over the back of the couch to get a glimpse of him: he’s pulled on the dishwashing gloves you keep tucked next to the sink and is making short work of not just the bowl and the pot, but the takeout container too, and your various other sick-person dishes you’d regrettably let pile up. Humming to himself along with Vince Guaraldi, like it’s something he does every day.

Your head spins as you drop back down against the cushion. What is happening? Did you take too much cold medicine?

That thought only reverberates louder in your brain when he returns, still humming the last few notes of the song. This time he chooses to settle in right beside you on the couch, as if entirely unconcerned about the contagious virus running rampant in your body— he just pulls you into his side, one arm wrapped over your shoulders, fingertips casually starting to play with the ends of your hair. Like it’s that easy.

You glance up at him, shaking your head a little, and Taehyung looks down to meet your gaze. “What?”

“This is just…” An incredulous laugh cuts off the end of your sentence. It’s hard to believe you’re looking at the same person. This can’t be the man who wraps his hand around your throat as he spits into your mouth, who will keep you in his bed for hours until you’re crying from overstimulation, who fucks you so good you can hardly walk the next day.

“I didn’t expect you to be like this,” you admit, pairing the words with a finger driven gently into Taehyung’s ribs. He squirms a little. “You’re… sweet.”

Taehyung’s lips part, and then he pauses, clearly considering how exactly to answer you. His mouth turns up soft at the corners, hesitant, as if he’s embarrassed to say what comes next. And then he says it. “You didn’t seem like you wanted sweet.”

The words settle over you, offered quietly in the low, rich tones of his voice, and as you keep gazing up at him, it strikes you: he’s not wrong. If he’d pulled this cozy domestic housewife act on you any earlier, on a normal Friday, you would’ve sent him packing without hesitation.

That thought makes you a little sad.

You tuck back in against Taehyung’s side, trying to refocus on the TV screen as you snuggle in under the blanket. Pressed close like this, you can feel the sturdy thud of his heartbeat in his chest, at a rhythm not dissimilar to yours.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone,” you breathe, and you swear you can hear him smile.

His touch lingers as the last few minutes of the movie play on: slipping from the ends of your hair to trace over the fabric of your shirt, then sliding further up to dip beneath the collar of it. The talented fingers you’ve become well-acquainted with work their magic in a new way, pressing firm circles into the muscles of your shoulders, muscles you didn’t realize were pinched so tight until he starts to work them open.

“Fuck,” you murmur, shifting a little to allow him better access as he continues. “That feels so good.” You can’t quite help the laugh that flutters out after your words; it’s certainly not the first time he’s made you say them.

There’s a small huff of breath from Taehyung beside you, and then his hand moves up to cup the back of your neck and give a gentle squeeze. It’s a comforting motion, and just arousing enough to make you sigh a note, your eyes briefly dropping shut. When they flutter open again, you realize the movie has ended, that he’s looking down at you, a knowing smirk toying at his lips.

“Don’t start,” you warn, unable to keep your voice entirely serious. “I meant what I said, I’m tapped out for the night.”

Taehyung raises his palms in the air, as if to claim his innocence, and you find yourself instantly missing the heat of his hand on your skin. “All I was thinking is that I kinda want dessert. Too tapped out for that?”

“I’ll never say no to dessert,” you admit with a soft smile. “I think I have ice cream in the freezer.”

Something glints in Taehyung’s eyes at your words. All at once he untangles himself from you and, rather than standing up and walking the long way around like a normal human, chooses instead to vault himself over the back of the couch, as if to get your freezer as fast as possible. You tip back against the cushions, momentarily overcome with laughter, and thankfully, it doesn’t trigger a cough attack.

After a second, you cocoon the blanket around yourself, then get up to follow after him, dropping unceremoniously down onto one of the barstools tucked on the far side of your kitchen island.

Taehyung glances up, clearly surprised, then continues trying drawers until he finds the silverware and retrieves two spoons.

“Just want to keep you company,” you say by way of explanation as he hands you one, and you reach down to pry off the lid of the pint of chocolate ice cream he’s set down on the counter. It’s only as you glance up again that you realize he’s grabbed something else, too, and is continuing to rummage through your cupboards. “Wait, what are you doing?”

There’s an innocent look on Taehyung’s face as he rights himself, the handle of a pan clutched in one hand. “I found something when I was looking for the ice cream. It’s my favorite. And I thought it might make you feel better, too.”

“Uh huh,” you intone, though your mouth is already starting to tick up, endeared. “A completely selfless act, I’m sure.”

“Of course it is,” he answers with an over-exaggerated wink, flipping the pan cooly in his grip. You squint at the bag as he thuds it down on the counter beside him, then sets the pan on the stove and flips on the burner beneath it.

Hotteok. You’d completely forgotten you’d even picked the bag of frozen sweet pancakes up a few weeks ago, that you had purposefully tucked them into the back of your fridge for a particularly good— or bad— day.

“Chef Kim,” you ask, feigning the tone of a journalist conducting an important interview as you fish your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants. “Can I interest you in some background music, or do you prefer to cook in absolute silence?”

Taehyung glances back over his shoulder at you, his grin nearly too big for his face. “How about Sinatra?”

You raise one eyebrow at the admittedly unexpected suggestion. “Frank or Nancy?”

He pauses for a moment, as if considering. “Either.”

It’s only a few taps, and then Come Fly With Me is floating out of your Bluetooth speaker, and Taehyung is singing along to himself as he drops a frozen disc onto the heated pan, occasionally turning back to deliver lines to you with an extended hand.

You roll your eyes as you drag your spoon through the top layer of softening ice cream, sucking it into your mouth in an attempt to hide the grin that’s spread over your face.

By the third song you find yourself humming along too, trying not to put too much strain on your still-weak throat. The kitchen has started to smell of sweet, toasted dough as Taehyung works diligently at the stove, and he finally flips the burner off before turning back to you, a plate in each hand and a thick pancake stacked atop each plate.

“Sous chef, will you please apply the ice cream?” he asks, eyes wide and blinking as he sets the dishes down.

Quickly playing along, you nod as you begin to scoop a healthy amount onto each plate. “Yes, chef!”

“And sous chef, do you, uh… have any chocolate sauce?”

You bite back a laugh as his roleplay falls apart as quickly as it began. “It’s in the fridge.”

Taehyung promptly turns and pulls the door open, eyes searching the shelves before he finally spots the dark brown bottle and lets out a triumphant hum. He nudges the fridge shut again with his hip before striding back toward you.

“Plating is key,” he muses. You answer with an appreciative nod and a giggle when he uncaps the sauce, then leans down close to the plates, feigning intense focus as he drizzles each dollop of ice cream with stripes of chocolate.

Once his artful design is complete, he steps back, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth as he spins one plate to admire his handiwork.

“What do you think, chef?” you tease, and he nods once, decisive.

“It’s perfect.” He glances up, shooting you a grin that knocks the breath from your lungs, and you try to collect yourself as he nudges a plate toward you, encouraging you to take a bite.

You carve your spoon through the pastry, right down the middle where it’s stuffed full of sweet brown sugar syrup. The flaky layers pull apart at the impact, warm enough that you can see steam rising off of the golden dough. You pair a small piece of pancake with a wedge of ice cream on your spoon, then bring both into your mouth at once, and the contrasting mixtures linger on your tongue: hot and cold, sticky sugar chased by rich chocolate. It’s so good that you can’t help but make a soft, appreciative noise as you press your hand to your mouth and chew.

“Do you want to know something?” Taehyung’s voice pulls your attention back, and you look up at him.

“What?”

“Today’s my birthday.”

There’s a split second where you wonder if this is another imagined scenario, and then your eyes widen as you take in the look on his face and realize he’s entirely serious.

“Wait, Taehyung, really?”

He nods once, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to his lips.

“I-I had no idea,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like an asshole. His birthday, and he’s here waiting on you hand and foot, while you haven’t so much as said a word of felicitations. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he’s waving away your apology with his spoon, then proceeding to answer around his bite of food. “It’s not like I expected you to know. I don’t really make a big deal of it.” He shrugs. “I tend to… I don't know. I get sort of melancholy this time of year. The holidays, my birthday. It’s a lot all at once. A lot of pressure. To be happy. To have everything figured out.”

Nodding slowly, you let his words fully wash over you before you respond. “I get that,” you finally murmur, working off another piece of hotteok. “Nobody ever talks about it, but I feel like birthdays are kinda weird as an adult. You have enough of them and it just starts to feel like a day, you know? Not special.”

“I usually find myself just hiding out, waiting for it to be over,” Taehyung admits.

You take a second to think back. “Yeah. I didn’t even do anything on my birthday this year.” A self-pitying laugh rises up before you can stop it. “Honestly, this whole year was such a flop. I’m glad it’s nearly done.”

Taehyung makes a face like he can’t disagree. “Hey, sometimes that’s life.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly, then reaches a palm across the table. “Can I play a song?”

“Go ahead,” you offer, pushing your phone into his hand. You scrape your spoon along your dwindling dessert, and haven’t even managed to bring the assembled bite to your mouth before the music changes— from one Frank Sinatra song to another, this one with a driving blues rhythm.

Taehyung is already on his feet, hips starting to sway. “Ah, come on. You have to dance with me.”

He’s closed the distance between you before you can even protest, his hands smoothing across the blanket still wrapped over your shoulders.

“Let me take your coat, ma’am.”

You shift off the stool and onto your feet with a smile as he unwraps the blanket from around you and tosses it toward the back of the couch, missing by at least a foot.

“Why thank you,” you tease, feigning some kind of Transatlantic lilt to your voice that makes him really laugh. “Such a gentleman.”

Taehyung turns to face you again, and then you feel his large hand pressing to the small of your back, warm even through the fabric of your shirt, and your heart stutters a little. You take his other hand in yours and let him lead, let him pull you all the way in until you can turn your head and press your cheek to the firm plane of his chest.

Frank Sinatra croons on about how you can’t let life get you down, and suddenly there’s a weight settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I feel bad, Taehyung,” you admit, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking right back down at you. “That you’re here with me tonight.”

“Why?” he asks, like he really doesn’t know.

“Because,” you shake your head. “I don’t know. There’s a million better places you could be. I can’t even give you birthday sex.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want to,” he answers simply, then leans back, guiding you under his arm for a spin.

A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, catches on the first syllable of your reply as you twirl. “A-are you sure?”

Taehyung nods, thoughtful, when you come back to center again. “This is a good reminder that… I like taking care of people. It’s been a while since anyone’s let me.” The hand holding yours gives a gentle squeeze, and you can’t help but squeeze back.

“Well, thank you for taking care of me,” you answer softly. “You did a good job. Pretty sure I’m on the mend already.” You blink up at him through your lashes, and the way his eyes are fixed on you makes your heart squeeze, too.

It’s nearly overwhelming, taking him in like this, close enough that you can see every stray beauty mark kissed over his handsome features. Fluffy-haired, big-dicked Kim Taehyung— who would’ve thought?

Taehyung’s adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows, and you feel a sudden rush of heat all over, one you don’t quite think you can blame on a fever. It hardly even occurs to you that the two of you have come to a complete standstill now, barefoot in the middle of your kitchen, Taehyung’s palm pressed to your back, the fingers of your joined hands now shifting to lace together.

“Taehyung,” you’re breathing his name before you even realize it. “Would you… want to stay here tonight? Like, sleep together, literally?”

The smile that flashes over his face is nothing short of brilliant. “Yeah, okay.”

Your voice dips a little lower, teasing, as you smile back. “I really do think I’m feeling better, so. Maybe in the morning I can take care of you, too.”

Taehyung’s fingers brush the length of your jaw, then reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue.

“I’ve got this spray that makes my throat totally numb, so.”

He pauses, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, but he can’t quite keep a straight face. “Fuck, why is that so sexy?”

You’re laughing against his lips when he kisses you.

#taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts fluff #bts x reader

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