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jarofstyles · 2 days

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‘Tis The Season

Hello my ducklings! I have pure filth for you, and it’s been so long since I’ve given you guys any Wolfrry so I figure you’d enjoy some after a little drought!

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Warnings- breeding, knotting, use of the word 'bitch', degrading, unprotected sex, wolfrry, its an au so the world is diff, etc

WC- 2k

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The beginning of spring was always a magical time in the pack.

The snow melted and little flowers began to sprout. The sunshine warmed them up, the crisp air and emerging leaves sent a new layer of hope into the coming year. It was the true new year for them, something that put a spring in their step and warmth in their hearts, defrosting them from winter

Y/N sat in Harry’s office, next to the tall alpha as he looked over her plans for the pack gardens. “I think that’s a good idea, but I’d move the peas over to the side.” She mused, letting her body melt as the man’s arms wrapped firmly around her body. As much as she knew she needed to pull away in order to finish these plans… it was the season, wasn’t it? “H… We really need to finish the plots.” Her breathy voice echoed in his office as his hands lifted her dress up and his teeth grazed her mating mark. She shuddered, sagging in his arms- the man was playing dirty, but that was the one spot that would make anyone melt. Having your mate brush it, lick it, press it? It felt like the aftershocks of an orgasm. “Y-You’re not playing fair.”

“No, I’m not.” He hummed. “Because you’re mine, and I don’t have to. You can play hard to get all you want, little mate, but I’ve been able to smell that sweet cunt since you’ve left our bedroom this morning.” The accusation made her want to fight- but there was no ground to stand on. She had been helplessly horny all morning. It was the beginning of the mating season, the breeding season, and she was panting for it. Of course she was trying her best to be a good leader, to get on top of plans, but was it so wrong for her to want to look at her strong, handsome, powerful mate? To see his green eyes darken when he caught her scent, to have him corner her and have his way with her because that's what she dreamt about? It was just in their nature.

“S-So what?” There was one last stitch effort to pretend she wanted to work on the plans. “I’m always wet for you.” It was the truth. It was hard not to be when the man had proved time and time again he was the most incredible lover to exist, that he knew her body like the back of his hand.

“I know that. All I’ve got t’do is walk into a room and you’ll roll on your knees and present that perfect cunt for me to fuck.” He chuckled, making her whine. She always got worked up when he talked to her like that. “That’s why it’s so fuckin’ funny t’me that you’re trying to continue this charade. Acting like the point of being in here is for that blueprint when in reality, all you want is for your mate to bend you over this desk and knot you up.” He was quick about it, following his words as he roughly bent her over. Her tits crinkled the papers they’d just been working on as she let out a gasp, her dress being flipped up and a rough palm slapped the curve of her ass.

“Look at you. My sweet little bitch, came all prepared for my cock.” He crooned, using his foot to knock her legs open. She was obedient, deciding not to even feign a fight because this was exactly what she wanted. “Should spank this ass raw for running about the den with no panties on and your silky cunt bare for anyone to see, but we both know all of them have no mistake on who you belong to.” He’d taken her so many times where people could see, let them watch as he plowed her into a whimpery, sobbing mess. It was no secret that their Alpha was the one who owned Y/N.

“M’sorry, Alpha.” She bleated, cheek pressed against the wood as she heard the distinct clink of a belt buckle and the pull of leather through the loops on his pants. It sent a wave of excitement through her, knowing damn well she was in for it. She’d poked the beast, literally and metaphorically, and now she was going to suffer- or enjoy- the consequences.

“I don’t really think you are, my love.” He murmured. “I think that you’ve been gagging for my cock and I didn’t fuck you hard enough this morning. Was nice and soft with you, showered you off and everything. Let you go about your day… But I didn’t fuck you hard like you beg for. Silly me, making love to my mate, my wife, during the breeding season.” His tongue clicked as she heard his pants fall down to his ankles. “I should’ve known that my pretty bitch needed to be bred properly. Needed to be fucked until your knees were weak. You’ve always been a bit of a whore for it, haven’t you my Goddess?” Y/N couldn’t think of anything other than his cock that had begun to rub through her embarrassingly wet folds, a soft keen leaving her mouth.

Harry was right. She was desperate and hot, needy for him in all the ways he’d just described. Y/N couldn’t deny that she really did need to be fucked stupid during this time of year. Don’t get her wrong- she adored when he was so soft and sweet with her, whispering about how perfect and beautiful she was. But when this time of year came around, she wanted to be used. To be filled and fucked and see his most primal part come out. It was only natural.

“Please, I want it.” Her pathetic simper came out as she wriggled her hips, trying to taunt him. She knew damn well that he would give it to her but she was going to play into it even more.

“I know you do. Could’ve just told me you needed a good fuck, but you like to play games instead.” He wouldn’t admit that he liked those games just as much. The sharp slap on her other ass cheek resounded around the room as he got her to stop teasing him with her ass shaking, notching the tip of his prick in her hole. “Since you want t’be a whore, I’ll give it to you like one.”

Her breath was stolen as he entered her in one go. The sting of the stretch made her yelp but her toes curled as she was finally full, his heavy hand pressing her down between her shoulder blades. Keeping her pinned there and pulling out just to repeat the action, she moaned loudly at his rough treatment of her. This was what she needed. A dirty, quick, hard fuck. “Yesssss…” She elongated the word only to be cut off by a wet gasp, his hips thrusting into her again. “Give it to me, please. Please, Alpha.”

“Now she’s begging.” He laughed,a cruel undertone to his words. “Pretty slut is begging for my cock like she should have done to begin with. I know you need it, but I forget every year just how much of a desperate, wet cunt you’ve got.” His pace started to steady, rocking her on the desk while she whimpered at each press inside of her. Her body was quite literally made for this, made for the stretching and filling and being knotted but Harry’s cock was fucking big. The biggest she’d ever seen, and people sure as hell weren’t shy about nudity around here.

“Now you can’t even talk. Finally got a prick stretching you open and that smart little mouth can’t form words. What about those plans, huh?” His snicker was followed by a harsh thrust. “Silly girl. Should’ve just gotten on your knees and begged.”

Harry loved this season. Loved how Y/N became a little minx, slinking around and trying to figure out how to get him to pounce on her. Like he wouldn’t drop everything to give it to her if she just asked. It was entertaining to make her do the work for it, like a little game. As much as he said he didn’t like them, he liked feeling her desire, knowing she was a little shy even still about asking him for sex- except when she was in heat.

“M’sorry, I just-” She whined as his cock began to fuck into her a bit faster. “I just want you all the time. I can’t help it.” If she had it her way, they wouldn’t leave the bedroom. The scents were crazy right now, everyone throwing them around to attract each other if they weren’t mated. All she wanted was his scent smeared all over her, she wanted it coating her body and there to be no question, even if they had visitors.

“I know you do. My beautiful cockslut. I love that you want it so badly. I’ll give it to you…” His words melted into her being as she felt a thumb brush against her ass, gently pressing in- and she was gone. He knew her weaknesses and this was one of the biggest.

Y/N’s brain could only focus on the pleasure. His hands on her and his growling, her cheek being pressed into the wood as she panted. She’d probably have bruises on her hip bones but she’d wear them with pride. It felt like she was just a hole to fuck and that’s how she wanted it. Letting him use her and reaping the benefits of his primal instincts raising up with his pretty mate splayed out for him. She lost count of the moans she let out as her nails sharpened, scratching the side of the desk as she began to feel his knot.

“Please Alpha, Please, please, please, I want it.” Her pathetic mewls only seemed to spur him on. “I want your knot, I want your cum, please give it to me. Give it to me, give it… I’ll be your good girl, I’ll be your bitch, please-” Y/N sobbed into the wood as he pounded her into her end. She squirted, releasing a gush of wetness over his thighs and trickling down her own as her thighs shook, a high pitched sound leaving her mouth as she felt him give one sharp thrust to be filled with his knot.

She felt it expand, her whimpery mess of a face being pulled up slightly as he folded his body on top of her, grinding inside of her cunt to continue her orgasm and work his cum inside of her. “There you go, goddess. Perfect little breeding bitch, s’what you are. Made to take my knot, my cum, my children.” He growled, babbling as his teeth grazed her mark and made her shudder. His eyes flashed before he closed them, grabbing her hair in his fist and angling her mouth so he could kiss her with the grumbles in his chest calming to a purr as he was stuck with her. Her orgasm had splashed all over the both of them, his balls and thighs wet and her poor cunt stretched and full. Her ass would need a salve from his spanking, but that’s how he knew it was good. She’d been flaunting herself around his office for a reason, and now they were both sated… for a while, anyways.

“I love you.” She slurred, bleary eyes looking up at him. “Love you Alpha.” Her sweet words softened his heart, a fond smile tilting up the corners of his lips. No matter how rough he went on her during sex, this woman was his soul mate. His goddess. No one could ever comprehend how much he loved her.

“I love you more than the moon and the stars.” He whispered, nudging his nose against hers sweetly. “My sweet Goddess. You own me.”

#harry styles smut #harry fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs

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enoe-of-noen · 2 days

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An Mc who is warm

It’s cold down in the Devildom, why wouldn’t those closest to Mc use them as their very own portable heater?

☞ Established relationships, lots of words

Lucifer

Taking full advantage.

Steals Mc away on certain exhausting nights when the breeze is harsh. The scratching of branches raking the glass.

Loves to have you on his lap for maximum warmth.

Maybe, after he’s done with this pile, can you join him in bed?

Please take the offer. He won’t ask twice, but he really needs it.

When Mc finally agrees, after a bit of teasing, they’ll gladly snuggle in the eldest’s arms.

During the day, Lucifer makes it a point to have his hand on Mc whenever they see each other.

Whether it’s a holding theirs for a kiss, a hand on their shoulder, a hand in their hair, a hand on their cheek, etc.

Since he wears gloves, he finds it most effective to hug them briefly before leaving them to their activities.

Mammon

He’s grabsy

“My human!”

“Yoink!”

Mc is always stolen away by him at any. Given. Moment.

They’re never safe from his grasp.

Never.

Mammon’s hands are all over Mc!

In their hair, under their shirt massaging their back, on their cheeks, on their thighs, on their hips, whatever he feels like

He loves hugging Mc from behind

“Mmn, warm, warm for me.” He cooes

“Mams. I have to go.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Fym nuh uh?!”

Mc will not be leaving his grasp any time soon~

Leviathan

Wow! Humans are really warm!

“Mc, Mc! I hope this isn’t too much to ask but, can you…sit here, while I game tonight?”

Levi pointed at his lap, blushing furiously.

This is embarrassing, isn’t it?

Is it too much?

Is it too weird?!

He won’t worry too long though, it is pretty chilly tonight and Mc is down to cuddle <3

Loves feeling their hands on his cheeks, squeeze them a bit if you wanna~

Hisses softly whenever he feels their warm hands, always accompanied by a cute smile

Hides his face under Mc’s chin, having easy access to their collarbone

Prefers Mc touching him rather than him touching them most days

Lets him know he’s loved and that Mc wants to be there for him

In public, he’ll always be holding their hand

Satan

Kisses their palm whenever they go to touch his cheeks.

Feel free to use him as a chair, he absolutely loves the warmth and attention.

Pets Mc like a cat, playing with their hair.

“Just a second longer, dear,” he hums.

“You said that 30 minutes ago,” Mc grumbles, feeling stiff.

Satan laughs whenever you complain.

Doesn’t stop his arms snaking their way around your waist though.

“Good book, at least?” Mc looks at the book in Satan’s free hand.

“Very much so.” He grins.

Otherwise around in the Devildom, Satan always lends a hand for Mc to hold.

His hands get chilly easily~

Asmodeus

Y’all already know~

All over you, all the time!

I mean, who wouldn’t be down here?~

Your hands are easiest to access of course.

You have such nice hands to hold, hon~ <3

Loves it <33

Surprise hugs! Tight ones, might I add.

Humans sure are cuddly, I love it!!~

No moment together is spent apart by any means.

Hands, hair, hips, arms, cheek-to-cheek even!

You’ll never feel alone with Asmo around, that’s for sure!

Definitely gives Mammon a run for his money

Beelzebub

Best hugger around totally not biased

Loves when Mc is able to face him, that way he can feel their breath

A little reminder they’re alive

Besides, gives him easy kissing access which is also warm in temperature

Always at Mc’s side; they radiate heat in the cold, dark Devildom

Loves resting his hand on their stomach, it’s the second warmest part of their body!

Whenever they’re sitting on the couch, Beel makes it a point to get between Mc’s thighs

It is so incredibly warm

He doesn’t care that he gets stares, it’s too comfy not to do

Belphegor

His naps have transcended

He is blessed to have Mc down in the Devildom with him

Uses you more like a weighted blanket sometimes

Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles

Always slumps over Mc’s shoulder in public or when he’s too sleepy

Instant smile on his face, even if for a split second

“Belphie?”

“You’re warm.”

“…fine.”

Free head pats for being cute! That’s a win for Belphie!

His hands often travel

Maybe too much

This devious little shit

Diavolo

“Dearest Mc!”

Makes it a habit to ruffle your hair whenever he passes by.

You emit so much heat that he can feel it just by petting your scalp.

Humans are fascinating!

Whenever Mc gets to stay over at the castle, he adores resting his head on their lap.

Mc admits the slight bedhead he gets from it is adorable.

Big arms give big hugs!

Get hugged at the most unexpected moment, Mc! Hahaha!

Always catches Mc off guard (unlike with the brothers)

Barbatos

Busy man, unfortunately. Not many opportunities for him to appreciate your warmth.

However, when he does, his hands travel.

Skillfully removing his gloves desperately.

Your skin is soft under his.

“How about a massage, Mc?” He’ll offer.

Easiest way of feeling your warmth without too much creepiness.

Such a calming atmosphere.

How can one resist the temptation?

Simeon

It was difficult moving from the Celestial realm to the Devildom at first.

Until, of course, he met Mc.

Gloves on, gloves off, doesn’t matter.

Holds hands, hands in hair, hands on shoulder.

Seems to instinctively lean on Mc.

Mc found it weird but more endearing the closer they got.

Touches go both ways, Simeon giving way more access.

Surprisingly, having come somewhat recently from the Celestial realm, Mc also feels warm back.

A win-win situation!

Solomon

A little sappy to admit, but your warmth makes him feel so…human.

Reminds him of times he’d relax, longing for human interaction.

He’d gone so long without it, forgetting he was one himself.

Tears up when the thoughts get him late at night.

He’ll always have an arm wrapped around either your shoulder or waist.

Please keep close.

You give him so much just by being warm, his heart pounds.

No matter if his facade of being the all powerful wizard crumbles slightly, he’ll be human with you.

He is human with you.

Luke

Luke is clinging onto you everywhere!

Like a cute little koala

Holding onto your leg (if you’re tall enough)

Loves being carried by you (if you can), gets to snuggle real close

Holds your hand like a child being led by their parent

Reminds him of the warmth in the Celestial realm

Easily got close with you, no questions asked

Just a little bundle of joy!

Raphael

Despite not being seen around together often, Raphael makes an effort to offer his touch.

Being quite new and unfamiliar with the Devildom, he’s also unfamiliar with its coldness.

“Hello, Mc. I know this is an odd request, but may I hold your hand?”

If he absolutely needs it, he doesn’t see the problem with calling upon his heavenly spears.

Watch yourself, Mc.

Mephistopheles

Ah, Mc.

Whenever he sees you around, he enjoys the heat you radiate.

Oh, come closer. The students here are quite dangerous.

That’s a ploy.

He just wants contact. You’re very warm, you know?

Thirteen

Flamboyantly steals you away, as any great trickster would!

Never a quiet moment with her, whether it be her inventions or her rambles, you’ll love it

If not, she can take a hint

Touch, touch, touch! Blush, blush, blush! You are now her big fat crush!

Be honored, human, hahaha!

Can’t believe humans could be so warm!

A treasure to hold and keep!

Mine!

Often has to fight for it

Which is totally worth it when she wins

Don’t know the last three well, so yeah. Hope you enjoy. This took way longer than it should’ve.

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yourplasticlittlespastic · 2 days

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E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Context and then some well-deserved smut, filthy stuff wink wink

Notes: Sorry for not posting but I work F, S, and S 8hrs so here it is!Thank you all for reading, you truly make my day with the likes

WC: 5.6K

Suddenly a good selection of paintings inside the museum made perfect sense. The way the people in the paintings showed their physical affection, the way the sculptures were exceptionally objective with their sculpted fingers gripping legs and arms and oh-so-loving embraces. It made sense to you, after all this time. Erotism.

“The more you stare at it, the more you’ll raise suspicion”

You turned and looked at his tall figure, Benedict was quick to offer you his arm “Isn’t it the opposite?”

“Not quite. People who don’t understand it walk fast and prefer to admire fruit bowls than this” he pointed at the painting “but people who do get it… they admire” he sighed “after all. That’s what you do with art”

“And what if they knew I understand this?” You shrugged “It is like you said… are they going to make us marry? We have the leverage”

Benedict chuckled at your joke "You using the power game here is..." he sighed looking forward "Making me want to do this with you"

You eyed the sculpture of a naked man embracing a woman, his palm resting on top of her breast, the other one resting on her navel... resting? No, perhaps he was going southern to her-

"And still, even if you have a respectful air of confidence I still make you blush. Oh, Lady Danbury"

You blinked away, the blood all around your face being mentally pushed by you so you could face Lady Danbury and her soft yet harsh eyes if that makes any sense "Lady Danbury"

"You pair of doves" she smiled, "I thought you knew better than staring at these cultures far too long"

"I told you so" he whispered in your ear

"Well, Lady Danbury isn't this art to be admired?"

She ticked with her tongue, her cane softly touching your dress "If I didn't know, I would say you and Eloise are twins..." she then frowned looking at Benedict "Do not make fret about it"

"I'll make sure to ignore that"

"Now" she came closer, a hand resting on your back quite tightly "Ready for tomorrow?"

"Sure" you both replied

"I expected more enthusiasm from two people who clearly decided not to follow courtship rules"

"Since when you follow them neat and clear, Lady Danbury?" Benedict teased

"Since our Queen expressed to me that your underground engagement was not keen to her eyes"

"Underground?" Benedict's brows joined "Then what is tomorrow if not a public gathering about it?"

"Your intentions my dear artist were not clear and a man paid for it" She gave one nod "And you are not off the hook, Miss Ashbourne"

"Hmmmm, you sound like my Mama, Lady Danbury"

"And I can imagine what she said to you but at least I had to tell you... you know? Make sure that you know your thing as romantic as it is, it was seen as a surreptitious thing to do. Now, I'll go and you two move from this sculpture, the next thing we don't need is you two to reenact it!"

You saw her walking and how quickly a nobleman was ready to talk to Lady Danbury, you turned to Benedict who was pouting just so slightly.

"Did she just say surreptitious?"

"I don't know brother"

Benedict's face contorted and his eyes glinted with mischief "Oh, please do not. My ears are bleeding"

The day was merely a breeze, compared to the avalanche you believe tomorrow will be. Of course, everyone was invited, the Queen the exception because well... it is not like she helped the match to happen. You did that by yourself. When night became day you followed your morning, you bathed until your skin was wrinkled like a raisin and your hair smelled like a complete bar of soap.

"Tighter"

"Mama"

"Tighter" she refused to let you have some piece "Tighter, girl" she ordered your Lady and you felt your ribcage extremely squeezed "Good" Your Mama stood behind you and stared at your figure "Your father and I haven't talked too much but I know he is quite involved in this, he will have things settled with Mr Bridgerton by no less than before the party ends"

"Alright?" you stared at her eyes but she avoided them "You are still vexed with me?"

"When I see you all dressed in white it will pass, now... tighter"

"No, MamaAaAaouch!"

You could not move as much from your torso and your rapid breathing was not noticeable still you managed to welcome each one from the ton with a wide smile, after all, this was an engagement party for you.

"Lady Danbury, you are glowing"

"Why thank you and you're so... straight, Miss Ashbourne. Lady Ashbourne, a moment?"

You saw your mother leave and that was as if God allowed you to breathe for a second -trying to at least-. The Garden of your house is now decorated with cream and pastels, bushes holding garlands of pearls, tables filled with delicate pastries and-

"Boo!"

You flinched and balanced yourself only to see his clear eyes wrinkling as he laughed "He-"

"Benedict" however it was Violet who went straight to scold the twenty-eight-year-old man winking at you now "Manners, she is your fiancé"

"Indeed" You followed the game but smiled at him in return, your eyes went to the real ton of the evening, all the Bridgertons looking like they always do, stunning. "Lady Bridgerton" but your eyes danced to Kate who quickly shook her head at you and you understood "Lady Bridgerotn" you once called

Violet smiled at you, her kind eyes shining "My dear, you look radiant as always but today..."

"Oh thank you"

"She looks like a bride, right?" Anthony was quick to join

"No, more like a china doll" Hyacinth corrected but Eloise elbowed her

"Thank you Anthony and thank you Hyacinth. Please, there are refreshments, you all can sit down and have a good time"

You watched them go, and then turned to see Benedict still looking at you, you tilted your head and he walked toward you, his hands in his pockets.

"Are you having fun?"

"What do you think?"

His hand went to your dangling earrings and then moved a curl from your face "If I die right now, I'd depart knowing I've witnessed the most enchanting work of art ever created"

The already constricted chest you have due to the corset felt like fire with his words "Thank you, but you won't die now"

"Life is short"

"Not that short for you to die in your engagement party"

"Then marry me now"

"Right"

"Is that a yes?" he murmured and then leaned down kissing your cheek, you sighed closing your eyes and taking a deep breath "Hmm?"

"Yes" You saw him lean back to his place, the violin in the background could not make you flinch nor the chatting could make your ears pierced. What sorcery was this? You could only stay put and see him

"Brother"

You snapped back to see Anthony and blinked away "Lord Bridgerton... I believe your Brother needs you, Mr. Bridgerton"

he grunted, "I love you Anthony but why?"

Anthony so gallantly with a hand on his side palmed Benedict "Business I'm afraid, it won't take that much"

"If it does, I'll send Eloise and she'll throw a book at him"

You both chuckled, you did not move from your place, your Mama did not let you, you saw Eloise coming from the distance and Benedict was nowhere to be seen.

"You look like a statue, a very uncomfortable one"

"I feel like one"

Eloise sighed and leaned on her shoulder "So..."

"So"

"We haven't talked"

"Not because of me"

"Hey, give me some rights..."

"Like?"

"I am the sister, and oh my your sister-in-law, future sister-in-law"

"I love the enthusiasm, El"

"You know I mean well, after all, you are my girl just like Pen who is... eh"

You knew better than to talk so you moved your hand to allow her the stage for the monologue you knew she would throw.

"I mean" she inhaled "Do you, no, did you imagine kissing my brother every time we went out together?"

"El"

"Just answer, you know how this goes"

"No, I did not" you admitted "Especially not the first years"

"That would have been alarming"

"Yes... and I found those sentiments not that long ago but strong. Does that make sense?"

"No, yet I believe you"

"Thanks"

She grabbed your arm "Come on now, let us join Francesca"

"What about Pen?"

"Eh let her do her own thing"

Anthony was lying. Benedict went away and returned before the party finished, some minutes to spare for some dancing couples still taking advantage of the sunny day above them.

"Why haven't we danced?" you inquired and he turned around to see you a slight seriousness on his face "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, it is just that..." his hand caressed your chin and then the palm of his hand went up until it cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone "I missed you"

"Liar"

He shrugged and looked to the dance floor "We haven't have we? Danced"

"No, now that I think about it we haven't"

"Excluding those small dancing sessions with the family..." he muttered

"So now you also want to save a second thing until marriage?"

He saw your smirk and grinned back "I will only save one thing until marriage and I won't tell you what"

"And I won't ask"

"Dance with me then"

You nodded and he grabbed your hand, the way the wind was moving the tree branches, the birds singing... everything was perfect, the sky was the shade of his eyes, the flowers contrasted with his pale skin and finally you danced. You don't remember why on heavens you haven't shared a proper dance not even during innocent times, perhaps those dancing sessions with the Bridgertons but his hands never landed on your back nor his eyes were fixated on yours like now.

Your hands never surrounded him with intensity like now, your mind was never filled with loving thoughts and passions -maybe except from the last year to the present time-.

"What are you thinking?"

"Your eyes"

"Ohhh?"

"I swear I saw the sky and then I looked into your eyes and I thought..." you smiled, your heart beating rapidly, "I thought... there is not much difference"

Benedict blushed, a thing he has mastered not to feel bad about "You're just making me go all mellow on you"

"Afraid of a lady paying compliments?"

"No, I am just afraid of what my body does when it's near the woman who is paying me the compliment"

You swallowed and stared at his face, his hand caressing your spine, your other hand resting on top of his shoulder "Do it then. We were cut hours ago"

"By my lovely brother"

"Is everything alright with... whatever that was?"

He exhaled "Well, if you want to know I will tell you but what if I tell you tonight?"

"Another adventure through back gardens and brandy?"

"You said it better than I could. Come here"

He stopped dancing to the harmony of the violins and flutes. In a second he gave you the sweetest close-mouthed kiss. You felt tingling for a brief moment, you smelled his cologne and felt the softness of his lips.

You smiled like an idiot. Yes, an idiot you called yourself because you couldn't believe this was happening. You couldn't believe the feeling. It was a mix of everything.

By the time the party ended, you gave your farewell to everyone invited. Still, the party was not kind to your mother's mood, her frown kept crippling now and then, triggered by your closeness and unfortunately the collateral damage, your father's.

However, things ran smoothly and you dismissed your two ladies who were quick to go to the servants' chambers for the rest of the day. You did not change attire and still with some light from the twilight, you bravely walked through the back gardens of the houses.

Before your knuckles could touch the door it opened, Benedict still not changed from his black suit was smiling.

"Did you know I was coming?"

"I did not but I was hoping"

You nodded and walked in, he closed the door "Thank you"

"So" he spun in his heels "I must confess something"

"Yes?"

"I have some work I must finish before we talk and... talk"

"Oh, that's alright I must also confess I'm rather curious about this place"

"Please feel free to explore. It is yours"

You saw him leave with an air of madness, but of course, you knew better than cutting his thread when he had that look. So curiosity got the best of you, the living room had a fireplace and a portrait of the whole family.You went upstairs to the hall and saw that there was a door to another studio this one amazingly empty that made you chuckle. Benedict was never one for bookkeeping, files or forms so this room being clean is exceptionally him. His office is the art studio.

You smiled and before turning away you spotted the mirror on top of the fireplace, you looked the same as this morning with more curls out of your hairstyle yet the same. Your hands however found a fight of their own as your fingers tried to unclasp the buttons of your dress, the damned corset was pressuring you too much. You managed to unbutton it, the sleeves were the problem as you couldn't reach it from your position, you took a deep breath and sighed, your back arching and you saw him through the mirror.

"high!" you flinched and lost balance when you swore you were going to feel the hit on your bum you opened your eyes to see him holding you

"What on earth?" he chuckled

"Hi!" you smiled back "you scared me"

"And you scared me"

"How?"

"I heard silence... silence with you in this place" he pulled you up with him, grunted as he tried to balance your rigid back "Everyone knows that you love creating racket"

"Hey"

"Even if it is just humming a song" he brushed your sleeves "So why are you getting naked in this studio?"

"I am not getting naked, my corset is too tight. Has been like so all day and my chest feels like it's going to explode. Help me please?"

You turned around and he undid your dress, the sleeves falling off, the corset's laces were visible yet he hummed "How?"

"How?"

"It is well-knotted"

"Have you never untied one?"

Benedict bit his tongue. He has seeing corsets but the women never have asked him to remove it or sometimes they don't wear one at all.

"Not... quite"

"Un-knotted" you instructed "try each loop to loosen it"

You felt some movement behind, you moved at his weird shaking of you "there" he said "done"

But the corset was the same you could feel it "No, it is still tied"

"No, I..." he humemd "Oh I untied the sides"

"No that only for decor"

"Noted, so the middle"

"Yes the middle!" you shriek

"Alright Alright..." he stood silent again and sighed "wait here"

"Wha- Benedict you only need your hands!"

"I will be right back!"

"Oh Lord"

"Here" he said

But you frowned at the sound, like knives or... "No, Benedict! Bene-"

"Ahhhhhhh" he exhaled relieved "Done!"

You turned around with the coldest glare you have ever done in your life "Really?"

"What?"

"You cut my corset"

"Horrible corset, ribcage-breaker if you ask me"

"Bu-"

"And you hate it too, I do not know where this affection is coming from"

He was right, your chest felt better and his adorable innocent smile was melting you away "Thank you"

"Always, now... what to do with this?" he pointed at you

"I have my camisole here, you can go now to your work"

Benedict pointed with his finger "I thought you knew I came for you"

"You told me you had work"

"The most infuriating thing I have ever said in my life. Forgive me for that"

"So there is no work?"

"There is, plenty. Loads. But you are here with a broken corset. Call me juvenile but not an idiot, my love"

You rolled your eyes "Fine. Take it away and burn it"

"Aye Aye Captain"

Carefully you slid your arms out of the tiny puffed sleeves and then with his help your broken corset was gone leaving your cotton camisole on. Your hands cupped your breast feeling how the tightness made you sore.

"What's wrong?" he asked behind you

"It hurts... like a lot"

"What?"

"My breasts"

"Well, they're finally free"

"No they are not!" you said turning around "see?" and saw his grin "Oh, I know what you did"

"You turned, not me" he tried not to look down the thin camisole so he instead focused on the two orbs on your face "Are you fine wearing your gown? I can lend you some clothes"

"Like what? Do you have spare woman's gowns here?"

"No, but I can find something, let's see"

"Benedict you don't need to do that, I will be fine"

"Well, I can't have you naked"

"I have a camisole and a dress"

"You are not sleeping in that" he said leaving you again in the studio, you turned around to see your reflection in the mirror and saw how your hair was starting to fall, the pins around your curls as well dropping and your camisole exposing just a tiny pigment of your ni-

"Here!" he exclaimed and entered the room with a pile of clothes "I know you hate wool, flannel is too hot so cotton it is"

"Thoughtful" you took the ample cotton shirt. The flounce long sleeves and the collar made you know this one was a hunting shirt "thank you"

"I'll leave you to it, I will..." he walked to the door but then gave one step backwards "unless you want me to-"

"Me? want to...?"

"I meant that- well, me here-"

"Oh, it's-"

"Fine, yes I'll go"

The awkward moment was cut with him closing the door as you usually let yourself change. Your garters holding your stockings and the camisole away made you look like one of those illustrations you found under your father's desk. You however decided to wear Benedict's hunting shirt, your slender arms too fragile for the flouncing sleeves and your collarbone too narrow for the shoulder-width.

Was it too untoward of you?

"Oh for heaven's sake," you muttered

Isn't this enough? too proper all the time? You have been raised in the rules of the time, clear as water you understand them but you are going to be living behind closed walls with a person who is like you. Why should you keep following them? They have domesticated you so well and here is Benedict who has been too -domesticated- but still you two gravitate to unchain yourselves.

"Why Am I thinking so much about the camisole?"

You opened the door of the studio and heard nothing, however as you descended the staircase you started to hear the brushstrokes, the dipping into the water, the brush getting dried with a cloth and a sudden gulp, Brandy it must be.

You reached the art studio and peaked inside, Benedict was facing back at you, the easel with a canvas was ready and his paint pallet was in front of him, the glass full of a golden liquid. You knocked on the door and he turned around.

It was not your intention -you told yourself- the brandy went to his lungs and he coughed at the sight of you. You took the slight moment as advantageous and you moved to the couch where he had put some pillows, you sat and stared at him as he drank from the glass, the amber liquid sliding down his neck.

"That bad?" you asked

"No" he rasped and cleared his throat "not at all. I... think I died and came back with the sight of you"

"You're such a charmer, Mr. Bridgerton"

"That's why I'm not the one who will inherit the title" he joked "I hope you don't mind"

"The title?" you snorted "as if... although now that I put more thought into it... I think my Mother is quite frustrated about it... with Lord Coxingworth being left aside"

Benedict left his glass on a stool and moved to the couch where you are but he sat down on the carpet instead "You are quite perceiving to form that conjecture"

"How so?"

"Your mother talked to me today"

Your blood, as hot as it was went cold "What?"

"Anthony needed me to talk with your parents about your dowry"

You sneered at the thought "I hate dowries"

"And I hate talking about them... but your mother seemed to love Lord Coxingworth and I can't blame her, the man has his charm"

"And he is a Lord"

"And he is a Lord" he repeated "But still, your father was trying to make everything run smoothly so I only nodded. Anthony will make sure to keep everything in place, after all, you will be part of the family. For me you already are"

"Hmmm"

"I was about to say I do not need the dowry but Anthony knew and did the talking"

Your eyes expanded "What?"

"I don't need a dowry is just money. A Business, as if this" he pointed to you and him "is business... it is not"

"You speak only the truth"

He grinned "Would you have taken the money?"

"Are you mad?"

"Imagine I am Benedictina!" he giggled, you slapped his leg with your foot "Hey! And you Mr. Ashbourne"

"Shush you"

"Would you have taken my dowry, my Lord?" he mocked

"Yes!" you laughed "Yes, to go to the coast of Italy and get some food and live there with your dowry Benedictina"

Benedict chortled loudly and hit your leg with his foot which you retaliated but he held it "Stop! You'll make me choke again!"

"Then let go of my leg!"

"You stop first!"

You stopped and looked at him, the fire in the fireplace behind him and the moonlight from the window making the scene even more dreamlike.

"Ben"

"Yes"

"Are you still certain about marrying me?"

He looked at your eyes and the way the firelight made them shine "More than ever. Why the question?"

you shrugged "I don't want you to feel rushed, perhaps Lord Coxingworth made you act fast and-"

"I know what you're saying" he nodded and took his tie from his neck and rolled it in his hand "but it was that or seeing you getting married to him which..." he pointed "It is not the only thing but it pushed me to do something which is the right thing to do"

"You better still think that" you hit his side with your foot again "because I will terrorize you if you ever point out it was rushed"

"I'll terrorize you back"

You sneered "I'll terrorize you further"

He straightened "I'll terrorize you harder"

"Harder?"

"Yes"

"You think you can"

"Oh I know"

"Bring it, Bridgerton"

He leaned in close, crawling on the couch until his hand touched your clothed calf, his lips inches from yours, the fire's heat behind him and the night sky shining through the window.

"I have a lot of ideas"

"I have some myself" you replied

"Is that so" he licked his lips

"Mhm"

"Then I'll start with this" he pecked your lips, once "Fight me" he kissed you, twice "Love me" he kissed you, thrice "Do it all together" and he kissed you again, his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, your lips parted and let him in, his tongue was warm and his breath tasted like brandy and mint.

"And I will start," you said between kisses, his mouth was insatiable, your lips were swollen with his rapture "With this" your hands pulled the tie in his hand and pushed his torso forward, Benedict followed and he was on top of you, his weight pressing down but you loved it "Fight me" you kissed his neck and nipped his lobe, Benedict moaned and moved his lips down your jaw to your chin and then your neck, he was kissing and licking you "Love me" you tugged his hair, the moan reverberating against your neck, his teeth nibbling down to your collarbone "And do it all together"

His hands found the hem of his hunting shirt, your bare legs exposed with the pantalettes still around your body, his hands travelled up your thigh and cupped your ass, the touch burning against your skin. You could feel his fingers digging into your flesh even with the fabric against you.

His eyes as dark as they could be stared at your breathing chest, the small gap of his shirt showing your soft skin "Y/N... I need my shirt back"

"It looks good on me, doesn't it"

"Too good" he groaned as he kissed your collarbone, his hand travelling back to your leg and up to the inner thigh, your heart drummed in your chest, the air was getting thick and your core was getting wet "give it to me" he pleaded

You broke apart and nodded, why are you hiding? Your hands took the buttons in front and started to undo them, slowly and surely while he was waiting patiently, the shirt opened just to expose the middle of your torso and your navel.

"hey" he murmured looking down and up at you "You don't need to open it now"

"Then tell me why it feels alright doing it?" you said and your hands were quick to push the shirt down your arms leaving it forgotten, cornered by the couch that it might absorb it. Your eyes were glued however in the pulsating vein by his neck until his finger raised your chin

"You are still someone unable to be defined by a word" he whispered "beyond what the word beautiful means or any other"

You hummed unfit to say anything and you saw the delicacy of his touch. One of his hands was placed by the side of your head so he wouldn't fall on you, the other softly cupped your breast and traced the round shape. You could see the curiosity, his fingers pinching your nipple and you moaned "It's so soft" he mumbled "And this" he pinched the other nipple and felt it hardening under his palm "This is... everything I thought"

"Am I what you imagined me to be?"

"And more," he said and leaned down "Allow me"

"I-" but you were shushed by the erotic sound of a sucking noise, his lips latched onto your nipple, and you felt his tongue swirling around it and his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You could feel him sucking the tender spot, the warmth spreading from the tips of your fingers to your toes and you moaned hard.

Benedict was delighted by the sound of your pleasure, his hand caressing the other breast, his thumb pressing the bud until you could only gasp, he stopped and moved to the other nipple.

"You're a tease"

"Let me play"

"Benedict" you groaned and arched your back to press your breast more against him. The scene was like the water you drink in the middle of the night, your mind could not process the moment and still, you could feel it all, your breast, the swelling too close to his face "oh"

Benedict however could not wait, he just couldn't. The sight of you, your warmth was inviting, more inviting than the day before, than any other thing he has done with, for, and by you. He pushed himself back, his hands travelled to your wait and hips and he left -agonizingly- your breasts now covered in his spit. His hands slid down to your thighs and opened them wider, he sat in his heels and took in the view of the most secretive part of your body -yet- he cursed at the pantalettes and then looked at you flushed, red and pink and all colours for him.

"Y/N..."

You saw he wanted to take them away and so you nodded. What could he do? You thought. He's done so much. He could do anything to you and you'd let him, and so his hand slipped into the sides of your undergarment and slid down your thighs. The air hit your exposed body, the wetness dripping from you and Benedict saw. He saw all.

"My goodness" he whispered, his hand trembling "Oh my goodness, Y/N"

You looked away, the sudden shyness taking over, and you could not look at him.

"Look at me" he commanded "Y/N"

"I-"

"Look at me"

Slowly you turned your face and saw his eyes. They were hungry, the pupils blown and his lips were swollen. You bit your lip and he hissed.

"What do you think?"

"You're divine, I can't- oh" his hands were caressing your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles around your inner thighs "You are... more than words can describe"

"Don't use words, please"

He chuckled "Very well" he grazed your folds with his finger and you welcomed it for the second time that "I'll kiss you"

Ignorantly, you plucked your lips and waited however the puck laste a second because you "Uuuuuh!" you flinched but Benedict held you in place.

The sole image of his face close to your core started to drive you insane "What-"

"Shush, honey"

Honey indeed as he kissed your wet core, his tongue explored you, the taste, the sensation, the feeling, he was addicted to you and the moans, the way your hips were starting to grind into his mouth were driving him insane. His hand held you down and his tongue explored, lapped and sucked, his nose nuzzled against your clit and the way his tongue slipped inside your hole, he could not help the groan, his own arousal was hurting him but he wanted you. All of you.

"Benedict!"

He knew what he was doing, the tip of his tongue was teasing the entrance, your juices dripping, the sound of his lips and tongue lapping at you echoed around the studio.

Perhaps you were moving too much you thought. You were squirming and this was not like when he put his fingers inside of you. This was something else, so dirty and so good. Your hips were on their own, you kept arching, buckling, squirming and his chestnut hair was the only thing you could see.

"Ben" you articulated "Ben"

But he roared like a lion, the vibrations sending you over the edge, his tongue was thrusting in and out, his nose brushing the bud of nerves and you cried. He gripped tighter, he was not letting go.

"Ben!" you cried, the sensation too much for your own survival that night and still you managed to say "Ke-keep... going-Ah"

He lost it with your taste that he swore he would never stop doing this, your cries, the stocking threatening to fall, your breasts heaving and your nipples swollen. He has found his place.

And it came, you came on his face as he travelled inside of you with his tongue, your walls clenching around his tongue and his thumb was pressing against the bud. You could feel your eyes rolling, black coming and vision returning. Still, Benedict kept taking all of you, licking you and tasting.

"Enou-Benedict-ah!" you moaned, his tongue still getting into you, his nose hitting your clit "I can't, ah!"

And until your last clenching that is when he stopped, like a madman he looked up to see the sweat on your face, your body twitching and your eyes unfocused.

"I told you" he breathed heavily, his chest also heaving, the bulge in his pants evident and he licked his lips "I'll devour you"

"Why on earth you didn't do that since the beginning?!"

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luveline · 8 hours

Note

Can I request a fic involving a reader with a skin picking disorder, please? I have one that started up around the same time as my anxiety disorder started ramping up, and now my arms are riddled with scars. I've been trying to break the habit for years now, sometimes I do good but sometimes I don't and I'm so self-conscious about it all.

thank you for requesting sweetheart!! fem, 1k

Eddie thinks there may be no better feeling than your hand in his as Eddie lays on your shoulder. You have this thing about your arms where they can get a little sore from picking, so you can’t always let him lean on them. Good thing he takes his super hot babe angel any way you’ll have him.

“Super what?” you ask.

“My super hot babe angel,” he says into the top of your shoulder, slouched in the dark, TV burning his eyes.

“I missed everything you just said,” you murmur apologetically.

Eddie forces himself to stop laying so heavily against your side and gives you some space. He’s worried he’ll elbow you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed, super babe.”

“Is that what the rock stars are calling their girlfriends?” you ask.

“Just me.” He clambers off of the couch with a groan. His hair falls in his eyes and he’s too hot for the weather tonight. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

You’d already done yours. You usually get ready for bed in one process where Eddie drags it out all night; you’re in your pyjamas with spearmint on your tongue already, while Eddie’s groggy and overdressed two hours later.

You go separate ways for a few minutes, the bed squeaking as you drop yourself in it, while Eddie puts his hair up to wash his face and brush his teeth. He takes his shirt off when he’s done, his jeans next, kicked into a pile by the hamper and ready for tomorrow’s laundry.

“That’s forward,” you mumble, having made yourself comfortable with his worst pillow, the blanket pulled back on his side of the bed in wait for him.

He rushes into new pyjama pants, eager to slide into bed beside you, though the sheets are a bit much. You’re still in your long sleeve tee.

Eddie knows what you’re doing. Most summer nights you wait for him to fall asleep before you take off your shirt, too hot to suffer it but too afraid he’ll see your arms. He has, of course, seen them before. He loves them just as much as any part of you, even if you hate them.

And he wants to see them to know you aren’t going too far.

“Shirt off,” he says, fingers on your hip. “Come on, super babe. Too hot for that.”

“Eddie…”

“Take it off, sweetheart.”

He wouldn’t talk to you like that if he didn’t know you’d say no if you really couldn’t handle it; he’d never force you to show your insecurities, even if he’s seen them and loved on them before.

You don’t bother sitting up any more than you need to, peeling off your shirt and shucking it onto the floor, leaving you in your tank top. Lengths of your arms exposed.

He can see the worst of it quickly. You’ve picked yourself bloody at the crook of your elbow and the scar at your wrist is irritated. Your non-dominant arm takes the brunt of it every time, but besides those two cruel places, the rest of your skin is unharmed. Scarred in places, but healed.

“Look at that one,” he mumbles, taking your arm, his thumb close but not touching the wound. “Does that hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Let me get something. You need a dressing–”

“Eddie, please don’t.”

Eddie likes smiling. He can be pretty moody, but you bring out the best in him. Even when you’re hurting, he has a smile waiting for you, locked and loaded. He shifts in bed so he can lean over you, weight braces on his elbow, his face in his hand. “What’s worrying you so much?” he asks.

“Everything.”

“It’s tough.” He blows a breath at your eyelashes. Your eyes shutter closed. “Babe, it’s really tough, but you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, it’s sad. It’s not nice that you feel so worried you start hurting yourself, but it’s not weird.” He leans down to kiss your furrowed brow, but he doesn’t quite get there, nose smushed to your hairline. “You’re perfect.”

“M’not perfect.”

“Yes you are,” he says, cupping your face. His hand is gentle, his kiss less so. He hopes it emphasises his point.

“Your hair is really tickling me.”

“I can’t go anywhere, I’m sorry. I have to stay right here,” he says, hand trailing down your chest to weave between your arm and side, and then soundly under your back. He doesn’t want a ring or bracelet to snag on your sore arm. “Give me a hug, super babe. Please.”

You bring your arms up tentatively behind him.

“I just wanna know when you’re upset,” he says.

“Sorry. I don’t really think about it, I just do it.”

“I know, but… this stuff doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wait for me to be sleeping before you take your shirt off, you have nothing to hide from me.”

“It’s so stupid.”

He hates the shame in your tone. “It’s not stupid. We need to find better ways for you to feel better, that’s all.” His cheek rubs against yours.

He can rebuke your worries all night, but he doesn’t need to. He shifts onto his side to let you hug his chest with more force, your face in his neck, the cold tip of your nose and your warm lips. “I wanna be pretty like you.”

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

You hum a yes.

“Even though I always have at least one zit, and all those weird stretch marks on my shoulders, and my hair’s frizzy every day?”

“None of that stuff matters,” you say, startled.

“Exactly. None of this stuff matters.” He finds your arm to feel down to the sore scab on your wrist. “I just need you to tell me about it more often. Okay? Deal?”

You breathe in the side of his neck. “Okay, handsome. Deal.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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highvern · 1 day

Text

YUCK

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive moments

warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy

Length: ~2.9k

Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable.

You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact).

It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him.

You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.

Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.

Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.

“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway.

She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.

You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.

“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor.

Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.”

“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”

“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.”

“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?”

“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought. “When was the last time you showered?”

“I don’t know. Like two days ago?”

“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.”

His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though.

“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.”

“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.”

“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.”

Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady.

Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch.

You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.

“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.”

You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?”

Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.”

You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.

“I can do that on my own,” you argue.

The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.

“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”

He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close.

How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.

Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.

When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.

“Hmmm?”

“I said, it’s time to get out.”

More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.

“Alright, arms up,” he commands.

You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.

“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head.

“And you call me a freak?”

Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.

You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet.

Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him.

And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.

“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”

The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.

After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance.

“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.”

Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.

You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.

“Why?”

“Because I just do.”

Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not.

“I don’t date.”

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.

“You aren’t gonna argue?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.”

You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.”

“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”

“Deal with the devil.”

He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.

“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”

“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”

“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.

“It really wasn’t any trouble.”

It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.

“I’m tired,” you tell him.

The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way.

You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.

Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.

“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.

“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”

You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does.

I sleep better when you’re here.

You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.

It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.

What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

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mokassong · 2 days

Text

blush- e. engstler

!! - wc 763, sfw, aaliyah #1 wingman

!! - req- Do a Emily Engstler falls in love with reader 😊 & can you do an imagine of Emily meeting reader through a mutual friend and she is like instantly in love with the reader. I don’t have much of a story line for you I’m just starved for Emily content.

The first time you saw Emily, you knew you had to have her.

You met through a mutual friend, Aaliyah. She had gone to college with an ex-situationship of yours, Azzi. (You cut things off after learning she was madly in love with her teammate, Paige.)

Aaliyah had invited you to try out a new cafe with her and her new teammate, Emily. You accepted the invite after spending ten minutes stalking Emily’s socials.

Now, as you stand in front of the door, your hands become sweaty with anticipation. You mutter a quick prayer before pushing the door open, flinching at the bell that rings.

You breathe in the sweet aroma of the cafe, smiling to yourself before landing eyes on your friend. Aaliyah grins at you, and that’s when you see her.

Emily sits across from Aaliyah in the booth, ter two signature braids behind her back and her legs slightly spread.

You approach the table and force yourself to tear your gaze away from her lap and up to her face.

“Hi, I’m—“ You start, sitting beside Aaliyah.

“This is my friend. The one I told you about.” Aaliyah smiles tightly, staring daggers at Emily.

“Uh, yeah.” You say awkwardly, looking down at your lap. You look back up at the sound of a raspy voice going, “Hi, I’m Emily.”

You look up to see her hand outstretched, and quickly shake it. She clears her throat, and you blush. Did she feel how sweaty my hands are? Is she disgusted now?

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

Emily knows she’s done for.

The rookie on the team, Aaliyah, catches a ride home with her. On the way, they pass a cafe with a “Now Open” sign. Aaliyah gasps, exclaiming, “oh my gosh, my friend wanted to try that place out!”

Emily, not thinking, says, “You want me to give you a ride?”

Aaliyah grins. “What, you think you’re not invited?”

That lead Emily to where she is now. Laying on her bed, her face illuminated by the glow of her phone, she smiles to herself. She’s spent the past five minutes spamming Aaliyah’s messages asking for your instagram, and her teammate finally let up.

Emily grins, pasting your username in the search bar. She clicks on your account and cheers to herself when she sees your snapchat is in your bio.

Fifteen minutes later she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

The next morning, Aaliyah is texting her at the break of dawn with confirmation that you’re meeting them at the cafe.

On the drive there, Emily drums her fingers nervously on the center console. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous— she’s met pretty girls before.

Emily sits across from Aaliyah in hopes that you’ll either sit across from her so she can try to find out what your eye color is, or even better, next to her.

She hears the bell ringing, signaling the arrival of a new customer, and it takes all of her energy to not whip her head around to stare at you.

Her shoulders slump when you sit across from her and not next to her, but her eyes quickly light up as Aaliyah introduces you. She ignores the warning look in her friend’s eyes, instead putting her hand out.

“Hi, I’m Emily.”

She clears her throat, hoping to get rid of the rasp in her voice in case you get disgusted.

Aaliyah rolls her eyes, and the tree of you get up to order your drinks. You step back to let Emily order next, but end up stepping on her foot and tripping.

You expect to fall flat on your face, embarrassing yourself for good, but Emily places her hands on your waist, saying politely, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

When you get back to the table, you sit next to her.

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

You walk back to your apartment with a grin on your face, giving your cat an extra scoop of food and almost skipping to your bedroom.

You plug in your now dead phone, going into your closet to change into more comfortable clothes. When you finally lay down, you grab your phone, checking all your missed notifications.

> (INSTAGRAM) EM_ENGSTLER FOLLOWED YOU !

> (INSTAGRAM) EM_ENGSTLER HAS LIKED YOUR POST !

> (SNAPCHAT) EM_ENGSTLER HAS SENT YOU A FRIEND REQUEST !

> (MESSAGES) ########## HAS SENT YOU A MESSAGE !

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

do we want a part 2?

#emily engstler #emily engstler smut #emily engstler x reader #wbb smut #wbb #washington mystics #wnba smut #smut #wlw

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jeonginslut · 1 day

Text

what sex is like with them. . . ft. shotaro, anton, & sungchan of riize

<3 cw: nsfw(18+) minors dni, afab!reader, explicit sex, spit, face slapping, fingering, oral, mentions of d/s dynamics, etc.

<3 this was fun to write, i dedicate this to my very best friends who love shosho & sungchan <3. i hope you all enjoy, and requests are open 🩵

SHOTARO

depending on the day. . . it’ll either be very insane sex or very gentle. shotaro is more often than not whiny, begging you to touch him or for him to touch you. however, sometimes, shotaro will take over and put your head through WALLS. starting off gentle, kissing you softly and hand rubbing your hip. then, a switch would flip and next thing you know he has you on all fours, one hand pulling your hair and the other pushing your back into a deeper arch. you would be so overwhelmed with pleasure that you reach back and attempt to push him away. that would make him go feral, pushing your hand away before flipping you over and slapping you across the face

“running from this dick baby?” he’d coo as he tenderly rubbed your cheek, but his dark eyes reading something completely different.

you weren’t even able to answer once he released your face, legs shaking in pleasure as you felt your release getting closer and closer.

your peak was just about to take over, broken moans and a weak “taro” escaping your lips, but your orgasm never came.

tears welled up in your eyes as you opened them, looking at shotaro who was smirking down at you.

“you don’t think you’ll get to cum after running from me like that, did you baby?” he whispered, kissing the tears that streamed down your face, “let’s try this again?”

SUNGCHAN

fucking sungchan was like an out of world experience every single time. he would push you to your limits that you didn’t even know existed, but also left you feeling more than satisfied.

he was so mean, and loved to make you cry. teasing you until you full on sobbed, begging for his dick.

“aw, look at the crybaby,” he would mock pout, grabbing your face between his fingers, letting them slightly dig into your cheeks, “crying cause she wants some dick?”

more tears would fall from your eyes, nodding so hard that it would actually hurt a little, “please sungchan, i’ve been so good.”

he’d tilt his head to the side, laughing at you before taking his hand and pushing your bottom lip down, “if you’re so good, you’ll let me fuck your pretty mouth and then maybe, just maybe, i can consider fucking you till you’re crying— oh, you already are.”

eager to please, you would get on your knees and pull at his joggers, eager to please him, but he’d stop you, “mm, open for me baby.”

you were confused, but opened your mouth anyway, moaning when you felt his spit hit your tongue.

“you’re so nasty,” he would tug at your hair, bringing your face closer to his clothed dick that was very clearly showing through his grey pants, “taking just about anything i would give you.”

ANTON

THE BIGGEST BOTTOM FEEDER. anton is so pathetic when it comes to sex, he would do just about anything you wanted him to do.

he loves going down on you , feeling you tug at his hair and his nose bump into your clit as he eats you like a starved man. you taste so good to him, so he could honestly eat you out for hours if you’d let him.

but you’re too good to him, telling him how to do it, when to add a finger and when to speed up. anton loves when you talk to him, it makes him feel ecstatic knowing that you let him make you fall apart.

when it comes down to actual fucking, oh he’s done for. the way you wrap around his dick would have him over the edge if you didn’t help build his stamina. every time he fucked you, he felt like a virgin all over again.

your cunt just took him so well, and the sound of you moaning his name drove him crazy. he loves when your acrylic nails dig into his forearms, telling him how good he’s fucking uou.

you never told him, but when his chain hits you on the nose when he’s on top, it makes you cum faster than ever.

anton is so attentive to you, making sure you feel amazing before he even considers how he is doing.

“am i doing okay for you?” he would whisper as he fucked into you slowly.

#riize x reader #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #riize smut #anton smut #shotaro smut #sungchan smut

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hqbaby · 19 hours

Text

seven — i have a secret

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, FEELINGS FEELINGS FEELINGS

You met Satoru by chance. Or at least that was what you thought until he confessed three months into your relationship that he’d devised the whole thing.

“You’re not serious,” you said, gaping at your boyfriend. “You couldn’t have planned that.”

The two of you were sitting in his car, seats reclined backwards as you shared a bag of fries and passed a milkshake between one another. The speakers were blaring a hodgepodge playlist the two of you had made, one you’d both added all your favorite songs to with no rhyme or reason that resulted in an eccentric mix of ‘90s rock, rap, and—courtesy of Satoru—Britney Spears’ entire discography.

Things were so much simpler then. Better.

“I planned it all!” he told you, laughing as you continued to stare at him in bewilderment. “I had a massive crush on you, what else was I supposed to do?”

“I dunno,” you gestured frantically, “maybe talk to me like a normal person?”

He snorted. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“You wouldn’t have given me the time of day!”

You gasped in faux shock. “I totally would’ve!”

He pointed the fry he was holding at you in wild accusation. “You turned down everyone who asked you out,” he said, all matter-of-factly. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, princess.”

You shook your head, grinning now as your boyfriend stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth. He’s such a boy, you thought.

“Let me get this straight,” you said as you sat up, placing your hands on your lap. “You took a class that isn’t even in your curriculum, purposely bumped into me after a game, proceeded to tutor me for a whole month just to ask me out?”

He shrugged, beaming proudly at his apparent job well-done. “What can I say? I’m a mastermind.”

You tossed a fry at him as you laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I believe ‘amazing’ is the right term,” he said, sitting up now too. He leaned in towards you and brushed a strand of hair from your eye. Quietly, he added, “And you were totally worth it.”

His lips met yours and you swore that if you died right then and there, you’d have died happy.

What a shame it all had to end.

Your neighborhood is safe. Well, that’s what you tell yourself when you go rogue—against all of Maki and Nobara’s insistence and all your empty promises—and decide to go on a run in the dead of night.

You don’t usually take this kind of risk, resorting to early morning jogs before class or training, but you couldn’t sleep anyway and the tournament is coming up soon. You’ve never been one to half-ass anything, so you have no intentions of half-assing this. Safety be damned. You’ll run if you want to run.

The streets are still as you make your way around the block. You circle the park, the cluster of houses, the apartment buildings. There’s a convenience store that’s still open—you wonder what it’s like to work there, to tend to an empty shop. Maybe it isn’t so bad a life. Maybe you wouldn’t mind winding down in your old age and owning a 24/7 convenience store. Maybe you’ll have grandchildren by then, but that would require children and you don’t necessarily want to think about that just yet.

You distract yourself with the different sights, the mindless thoughts, the grocery list of things you need to buy the next day—anything to not think about the fact that you’re absolutely exhausted and could pass out at any point in your run.

You haven’t slept much since that brief reprieve afforded by Sukuna’s company a few days ago. You’ve gone to classes, dutifully attended meetings for your organizations, religiously beat your body into perfection in training. At this point, you’re just running on auto-pilot.

You wonder when this will ever end.

You circle back to the convenience store and your foot—so tired, so susceptible to minor inconveniences now—catches on a stone on the ground. At least you have enough foresight to land your ass.

It’s then that everything crashes down on you. You can do nothing now but sit on the ground and wearily massage your legs as you wait for the last bit of strength to return to you, just enough to make you get up and walk home. You just sit there, on the pavement of a dark street, fully aware that it’s probably not a good idea but also fully aware that you don’t have it in yourself to care.

You pull your phone out of your pocket. There’s a text from Maki asking if you placed the orders for the shirts you’re selling at the children’s rights fundraiser. Right. You forgot to do that. There’s a text from Kento asking if you have notes from that one class the two of you share. An email from Yuki with the details of the tournament. A meme from Sukuna, an image of a clown with the accompanying message “u.”

Then there’s the text you’ve been avoiding.

satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?

You should really change his contact name.

And it’s like the universe hears you. You don’t know if you’ve ever fully bought into the whole “the universe is listening” thing, but you might just become a full-fledged believer, because as soon as you look up from your phone, you find a figure walking through the shadows towards you.

A random straggler maybe? A murder with an axe? One of those zombies that keep chasing you in your dreams?

You know who it is as soon as the first bit of light from the dying street lamp hits his hair.

Satoru.

He’s walking with his hands in his pockets, head hung low like he’s tired or thinking or both. It takes him a while to even register your presence. It’s only after you put your phone away that he looks up, alerted by the slight movement.

His eyes meet yours. Blue piercing straight into you, like he can see your thoughts. Like he can read your mind. You always suspected he could.

“Hi,” he says.

He’s standing a few feet away from you, close enough to take in your weakened form but far enough to run away if you decide to lunge forward and strangle him for whatever reason.

You lift your hand, a tiny wave. “Hey.”

His eyes scan your body, already checking to see what’s happened. He notices your legs spread out on the pavement, the bags under your eyes. You look okay, though, he thinks. Not in any immediate distress.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice is unsure, afraid of entering the realm of familiarity, uncertain if you want him there.

You shrug, “Oh, you know. Just seeing the sights.”

He nods. “Right.”

“You wanna sit with me?”

The question isn’t so much said as it just flies out of you. A natural thing, to pose this question. Akin to asking about the weather, akin to how you used to tell him you loved him. Exactly what was expected, exactly what it should have been.

His answer is just as expected too. “Sure.”

Satoru steps closer and crouches down to sit in front of you. He sits cross-legged, placing his hands on his knees as he looks around hesitantly.

“It’s really late,” he says.

“I know.”

“It gets dodgy here at night.”

“I know.”

“You shouldn’t be out by yourself.”

You crack a smile at that. “I’m not alone now, am I?”

Satoru looks at you incredulously before smiling too. “Maki is so gonna kill you if she hears about this.”

“Then don’t fucking snitch,” you warn him. Your words are harsh, but your tone is light. Easy. “I’m already in hot water with her.”

“What did you do?” he asks. He relaxes a little, placing his hands behind him and leaning back. “Did you lose her sweater again?”

You roll your eyes. “That was one time.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head. “I remember at least four times you came to me all panicked because you didn’t know where it was.”

“To be fair, half of those times I was just looking for an excuse to talk to you.”

He raises a brow. “You’re kidding.”

“Not,” you tell him. “You’re not the only one who made shit up to talk to their crush.”

The two of you laugh, remembering that horrifying period of time before you got together and routinely embarrassed yourselves for one another.

You know this whole thing, laughing on the street with the boy you broke up with less than a month ago, should feel wrong, at the very least awkward. But it doesn’t. When you look at Satoru, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles, you can’t help but remember just how much he meant to you. Maybe just how much he’ll always mean to you.

Satoru shuffles closer and says in a low conspiratorial tone, “I have a secret.”

You pretend to look around, check to see if anyone is listening. Then, you ask him, “What?”

He moves closer until his face is just inches away from yours. And he says the words you already knew he was going to say.

“I miss you.”

You let out a breath.

“I miss you too.”

You both lean forward, close enough to feel his breath on your lips, but not enough to touch his. His hand reaches for yours and squeezes it, holds it to his chest. There’s comfort to his touch, a familiar warmth. One that you’ve loved for a while now.

“‘Toru,” you say quietly.

“Yeah?”

You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding through your chest. You suspect that you can hear his.

“We can’t do this.”

His eyes flicker to your lips. You can almost read his mind. Why can’t we?

But he pulls back and so do you. He lets go of your hand, nodding as he takes his warmth away with him. There’s disappointment in his expression, but also a deep understanding. A deep knowledge that this isn’t right. You can’t do this.

You wring your hands and turn your gaze to a receipt on the ground. It lists a very specific assortment of things: a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of water, some lube, and a teddy bear. It must be Valentine’s Day somewhere.

“You’re good, right?” you find yourself asking. “With… Kimi.”

Satoru hums. He’s avoiding your eyes too, lost his footing in this whole interaction just like you. “Yeah, we’re good,” he says, words leaving a pit in your stomach that you try to ignore. “And you’re good with him?”

There’s a venom in the way he says the last word. As if he means to say, you’re good with him—him of all people. The scourge of the earth, that’s probably all Satoru can think about when he even considers the idea of Sukuna.

You nod. “We’re good too.”

Satoru’s eyes search yours and you do your best to hide the fact that you’re lying. You already know what he wants to see. He wants to see that you’re miserable without him.

That you made a mistake.

He doesn’t find what he’s looking for, so he just clears his throat, looks away, and says, “Good.”

You pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. Suddenly, this whole thing feels like the kind of wrong it always was.

“You should go,” you say.

Satoru shakes his head, standing up and dragging you up with him. “I’m taking you home.”

“Satoru, it’s fine—”

But he won’t hear it. He’s already holding your hand and pulling you in the direction of your apartment building. As much as you want to, you don’t necessarily have the strength to argue with him, so you let him lead the way, one painful step after another.

When you get to the front of the building, Satoru drops your hand and motions for you to head inside. “Get some sleep.”

You turn to the door, then you hesitate, looking back at him. “Satoru.”

“Yeah?” His voice is soft, like he’s worried it might scare you away.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His eyes widen just a bit as he tilts his head. “For what?”

You swallow. “For everything.”

You don’t expect him to smile, but he does. It’s all gentle and sweet. It’s exactly the way he’s always looked at you. The way he probably always will.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess,” he says. “It’s just the way things are.”

notes. if there’s one thing i know about me when i’m writing my love triangle fics, it’s that i refuse to let either side go down without a fight 😌

ALSO FINAL REMINDER THAT THIS SERIES HAS SMUT, so minors sincerely fuck off please, i'm not responsible for what you consume online.

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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captain-hawks · 2 days

Text

till one of us caves

atsumu miya x f!reader

In which Osamu asks his brother to keep you company while you're closing the shop alone one night. And it wouldn't be an issue...if Atsumu wasn't the bane of your goddamn existence ever since your stupid drunken hookup years ago.

wc: 3.7k

c: 18+, smut, enemies to lovers speed run, the complete and utter defilement of onigiri miya (sorry osamu), miscommunication, fingering, unprotected p in v, atsumu is down so bad and also he's an idiot, protective!atsumu, miya twin banter, best friend!osamu

“Absolutely not.”

Osamu pauses in the middle of counting cash at the register and glances up to follow where your narrowed gaze is focused—a head of blonde hair on its way through the front doors of Onigiri Miya.

“I didn’t want ya closin’ alone,” Osamu replies, returning his attention to the stack of bills in his hand.

“Hey dickhead, I hope yer feedin’ me for this!”

Instant headache.

Instant fucking headache.

You let out a long-suffering, exaggerated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re only leaving an hour early. I can handle this alone, Osamu. I promise.”

Osamu closes the register, turning around to look at you with his arms crossed. “It’s a Saturday night. I don’t like you dealin’ with the drunk stragglers by yourself.”

Glancing around, you pick up the only vaguely threatening object within arm’s length—a plastic spork. “I know self defense.”

Raising an eyebrow, Osamu glances from your face to the small utensil clutched between your fingers. “Wouldn’t be the first time Tsumu’s been stabbed with a spork,” he mutters.

“Fooooooooooood,” said twin dramatically whines, plastering himself across the counter like a fainting Victorian maiden.

“Get yer sweaty ass offa there,” Osamu grunts, snapping a rag against Atsumu’s arm.

He yelps, muttering something under his breath before finding a normal sitting position on the stool.

“Alright, now get outta here so you’re not late for your date,” Atsumu chides, running a hand through his hair.

It’s obnoxious, actually—the way he still manages to look infuriatingly attractive even with his sweaty bleach-blonde hair sticking up in every direction, his face still flushed and voice a little hoarse from practice. At the very least, he had the decency to toss on a clean black tee with MSBY emblazoned in large gold letters across the back.

You hate Atsumu Miya and his stupidly perfect face.

And his calves—who the fuck has calves that nice.

You also hate Osamu, your best friend and boss, for unceremoniously dumping your least favorite Miya into your lap at 8 o’clock on a Saturday night.

“It’s not a date,” Osamu yells from the office, walking out with a jacket slung over his shoulder.

“Looks like ya showered for once today, dirtbag,” Atsumu shoots back, mouth full of rice. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“Choke,” Osamu deadpans as he heads for the door, “…but not in here. Don’t have time for all that paperwork.”

Atsumu salutes his brother as you stand in the middle of the shop with your hands wrapped around the broom.

“Can’t promise what kind of paperwork you’re gonna have to do after leaving us alone together,” you mutter.

Osamu leans in, patting the side of your face. “Just promise me you’ll mop up the blood.”

—

You’ve known the Miya twins for years now, though it was Osamu that you first became friends with after a shared class in your second year of university.

Atsumu was more like the miserable cold that you accidentally bring home from vacation.

The miserable cold who you’re instantly, stupidly attracted to from the moment his brother introduces him to you. Who you end up drunkenly making out with in bed after a party one night.

Who passes out midway through and disappears before you’re awake the next morning.

Who had a fucking girlfriend at the time, unbeknownst to you. Knowledge courtesy of Osamu, who nearly undeservingly took a textbook to the head when he told you.

Who, to this day, three years later, has never even acknowledged that it happened.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t been harboring a stupid crush on him for months. And if perhaps you’d been a little more drunk, enough to forget the taste of his lips, the press of his fingertips into your hips. But naturally, that little hiccup drove an irrevocable wedge between the two of you, leading you to regard the blonde Miya in a perpetually antagonistic manner until the end of time.

Such is life.

“I think you might rile ‘im up better than even I can nowadays,” Osamu had observed once, after Atsumu balked in aggravation when you returned from picking up everyone’s fast food orders and handed him a kid’s meal instead.

Atsumu, never one to back down from a challenge, met your piss poor attitude in spades, going so far as to barge in on your dates on occasion, plopping right down at the table and obnoxiously stuffing whatever appetizer was in front of him into his mouth like you’d invited him.

—

Surprisingly, despite the restaurant’s minimal square footage, the two of you manage to avoid one another for the next forty-five minutes—Atsumu quietly sits at a table watching game replays on his phone while you wipe down the counters.

You almost forget he’s there, until the bell above the door dings to announce what’ll probably be the last customer of the night.

And—fuck.

Osamu kicked this guy out last week when he wouldn’t take no for an answer after you refused to give him your number.

“Hey pretty girl,” a tipsy voice slurs as the man settles down at the counter.

“Sorry, we’re about to close,” you tell him, not looking up from the pile of receipts you’re sorting on the other side.

“S’not why I’m here,” he chuckles.

Take a hint, buddy.

“We’re closing soon,” you repeat firmly.

A hand grasps your wrist, and you yelp as he murmurs, “What’re you doing after this?”

“Get your fuckin’ hands off of her, and get the fuck out,” a cold voice interrupts.

A hand clamps down firmly on the man’s shoulder, and you watch the pain flit across his face as fingertips dig into his collarbone.

“Now,” Atsumu adds, his voice so harsh it brokers no room for argument.

You may call yourself an expert in Miya antagonization. But as you look at Atsumu’s stormy, furious expression, the tense set of his jaw, you realize that you’ve never seen him truly angry.

Not like this.

The man quickly gets up from the stool, putting his hands up in front of him as he stumbles backward and says, “I didn’t mean anything by it, man.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Atsumu replies, his voice low. “I’m sure my brother was a real nice guy when he told ya to leave last time. I ain’t nice. Don’t fuckin’ come back here.”

The silence is deafening when the front door swings shut, broken only by the sound of Atsumu twisting the lock into place and flipping the sign to CLOSED. Your heart, meanwhile, is frantically pounding in your chest.

Atsumu wasn’t even here when that happened last week, which means Osamu must have told him for whatever reason, and…

“You alright?”

Atsumu interrupts you from your thoughts, and you glance up to find a disarmingly concerned expression burrowed into his features.

“Yeah…thanks,” you exhale, quickly turning around to busy yourself with anything but staring at the downward curve of his lips.

You have all of ten seconds to yourself before Atsumu comes to stand beside you behind the counter, idly tidying a pile of napkins as he explains, “Samu was worried that creep might come back, so he was gonna cancel his plans tonight so you wouldn’t be alone if he did. I told him I’d come make sure ya were alright.”

You’re not sure why, but suddenly, you’re angry.

You’re really fucking angry.

Maybe it’s because you’re a little raw in the wake of the adrenaline rush from that uncomfortable encounter, a little shaken by the stranger’s boldness and the way Atsumu stepped in without a second thought.

Maybe you swear it looked like Atsumu was about to reach out to you afterward, his hand falling back to his side in an aborted gesture between one breath and the next.

“Since when do you care if I’m alright, Atsumu?”

Atsumu startles beside you. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you led me on years ago and nearly fucked me at a party—you probably would have, if you didn’t pass out in my bed halfway through taking off your pants. You disappeared the next morning, failed to inform me that you had a girlfriend, and then conveniently acted like it never fucking happened.”

He stares at you, mouth slightly agape. “I’m sorry, I what now?”

You turn to face him fully, crossing your arms, an incredulous look on your face. “You’re joking, right?”

“Was that…oh….” Atsumu scratches the back of his head, trailing off. “That’s the night I blacked out.”

“I mean yeah, you were kind of trashed.”

“No, like that’s the night that made me realize I had to cut back on drinking. I’ve got no memory of what happened. Zero. Haven’t drank that much since.”

“So was it not concerning that you woke up in my bed?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“I hardly knew ya back then. Didn’t even know that was your dorm room, and you were hoggin’ all the covers. Couldn’t even see yer face before I panicked and crawled my hungover, half-dead ass back to me and Samu’s.”

Well, this is certainly news to you.

“…and Osamu never told you.”

Well, why would he, after you spent two hours bitching to him about it and then threatened to never speak to him again if he made the situation even more embarrassing by telling Atsumu you were upset.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p for emphasis before sobering a bit as he says in a more serious tone, “I’m sorry. For doing that to you, and for forgetting that it happened.”

You reach out, punching Atsumu in the shoulder.

“The fuck was that for?” he exclaims.

“So why have you been such an insufferable jackass all these years?”

Atsumu raises his eyebrows, looking affronted. “You haven’t exactly been a ray of sunshine either, sweetheart.”

Well, true.

But still.

(You try to ignore what the stupid pet name does to your heart, which is currently in the midst of a traitorous backflip inside of your chest.)

“At least I didn’t barge in and ruin your dates for no reason,” you glare.

“That was like, twice,” Atsumu defends himself. “Maybe three times.”

You stare at him.

“The fourth time doesn’t count, that guy was a dickhead. Samu wanted to punch ‘im, too.”

“You ate an entire basket of breadsticks.”

Atsumu shrugs, taking a step closer to you. “They’re bottomless for a reason.”

You’re not sure when it happened, but you’re pressed up against the prep counter in the back of the shop, and one of Atsumu’s hands is resting on the cool metal surface beside your hip. Not quite touching you, but you swear you can feel the heat of him all the same.

“You ruined my dates for breadsticks?” you ask quietly, holding his gaze.

Atsumu’s thumb twitches, and you feel the featherlight touch through your jeans. “I ruined your dates because I was jealous.”

Blood rushes in your ears, your mind struggling to comprehend the rush of emotion flooding through you. Embarrassment, elation, shock, annoyance—and something else, something with a darker, richer edge.

Something that has the next words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them, “Did you think doing that was going to make me take you home and fuck you instead?”

Atsumu has the decency to flush, but he only further closes the gap between your bodies, his nose brushing against yours as he replies, “I hated how much you hated me. And I hated how much I still wanted you.”

“You’re an idiot, Miya.”

He laughs.

He laughs, and it’s a low, rich sound that dances down your spine and curls up low in your belly.

“Yeah, yer probably right,” he exhales, his breath hot against your lips. “I should probably find another tactic.”

“I’ve heard drunken hookups work wonders,” you sigh, voice tinged with sarcasm.

His free hand comes to rest on your other side, effectively caging you in. “I’d have to be a fuckin’ idiot to fumble the bag with you twice.”

“Who said I’m still interested?” you reply, putting an inch of space back between your mouths, if only for the sake of your own sanity.

Atsumu hums. “I do have eyes, ya know.”

You don’t miss a beat, “Maybe I’m secretly dating your brother, and I just objectively like the look of your face, as his twin. Like a natural, biological reaction.”

“Yer not datin’ Samu,” Atsumu replies evenly. “He couldn’t handle ya.”

You glare at him. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Atsumu smirks at your indignation. “You’re outta his league.”

“And what exactly is my league?”

“Some stupid, sweaty pro volleyball player whose got it pretty damn bad for ya, who would settle for a hate fuck at this point if that’s all ya wanna give him.”

You know Atsumu clocks the way your breath hitches in your throat, the slight widening of your pupils that you can’t disguise at the bald, shameless truth of his words.

The look on his face is so ridiculously endearing, you want to kiss it right off.

Pushing yourself upward with your palms, you sit up on the counter, and Atsumu shifts forward to stand between your legs.

“Osamu would kill us.”

His nose caresses yours again, and he rests one hand on the side of your face. “For doing something other than fightin’? He’d throw a party.”

“For turning Onigiri Miya into a house of ill repute.”

Atsumu chokes.

“But there’s just one little thing, Atsumu,” you continue.

“What’s that?” he asks carefully, each word a huff of warm air dancing across your mouth.

You exhale, shuddering at the feeling of Atsumu’s other hand idly tracing the exposed sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. “Can you handle me?”

Atsumu’s thumb skirts across the bottom of your chin before he leans in, mouthing his next words against your lips, “Have I ever told you how hot it is when you’re mean to me?”

Your answering laugh is swallowed by a kiss, an all-consuming kiss that has you gasping into Atsumu’s mouth as he licks his way into yours.

There’s no preamble for the way Atsumu’s tongue dances across your own, the thorough way he tastes you—the groan that rumbles in his throat as you take his bottom lip between your teeth.

Kissing Atsumu Miya is like setting a wildfire loose in your chest, all the oxygen swallowed up by his greedy, hungry heat. Your nerves thrum, the vibration rattling to the tips of your toes, and you’re helpless to resist the urge to pull him closer.

The second one of your legs begins to hike up around Atsumu’s waist, he grabs both, urging you to wrap your thighs around him, and he groans into your mouth as you find yourself flush with the solid proof of his arousal.

“Ya have no fuckin’ clue how bad I’ve wanted you,” he murmurs, drawing a keening noise from your lips as he hotly mouths his way down the side of your neck.

On the court, Atsumu Miya is an indomitable force. He’s unwaveringly confident and effortlessly sure of himself as a setter, always in control.

The crowd falls quiet, the ball follows his trajectory.

It’s a practiced dance, and he’s the conductor.

But here, pressed up against the counter in his brother’s restaurant, with your fingers tangled in his hair and his warm, soft hands sliding up beneath your shirt to clutch your waist, there’s a lawless, frantic edge to him. For every precise, focused move—like a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear that he somehow just knows will make you gasp, and the dizzying way he cups the back of your head when he kisses you deeper—you can feel the wild, barely-restrained desire in the unfiltered chorus of groans you’re not even sure he’s aware are falling past his lips.

It’s slipping—his control.

And you don’t want him to stop.

“Atsumu,” you whine into his mouth when he finally, finally slides a hand up under your bra, cupping your breast and teasing at your sensitive, pebbled nipple.

“Yeah?” he pants, kissing his way around the curve of your jaw, only pausing to help you in your endeavor to take off your shirt.

He wastes no time in unclipping your bra, his deft fingers making quick work of the clip, and his expression is nothing short of lustful reverence when he takes in the sight of your naked breasts before him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly, taking a breast in each of his palms while he leans in to press a kiss to your sternum, and whatever you were going to say promptly exits your mind a beat later. Wet, hot heat engulfs your nipple, and you glance down, nearly choking on your own spit at the sight of Atsumu sucking on your breasts.

Rocking your hips into him, you let out a breathy whine at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your cunt, the fabric of his athletic shorts doing nothing to hide his thick, throbbing insistence.

Atsumu moans against your tits, and the filthy, wet sound of him shamelessly lapping at them sends a fresh gush of arousal between your legs, your underwear now soaked with it. You reach between your bodies, doing your needy cunt no favors at all when you feel just how thick Atsumu is as you wrap your fingers around him.

“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ come if you keep doing that,” he lets out a low, ragged sound caught somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

“I’d rather you come somewhere else,” you tell him, pulling down his shorts and boxers to let his flushed, leaking shaft spring free.

Atsumu takes your face in both hands, kissing you hard and filthy as he unbuttons your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear and leaving both in a forgotten heap on the floor. And when you wrap your legs back around him and rub your slick folds down the length of his cock, you’re already dangerously close to coming from that alone, too.

He slides a finger into you, muttering a string of expletives under his breath when he feels the sopping squelch of how wet you already are for him. One digit soon becomes two pumping in and out of you, and while it’s still not enough to quell the greedy desperation he’s ignited, he’s barely begun rubbing circles into your aching clit when you’re already shaking in his arms and moaning in the throes of your climax.

And then he’s stroking himself, groaning softly, like he thinks this is what he has to do now to take care of his throbbing cock.

Like you’re satisfied already, as if you’ve somehow had your fill of him.

As if two fingers between your legs would ever be enough to encapsulate all that you want of Atsumu fucking Miya.

(And really, it’s a lot, quite frankly. Now that you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.)

“Fuck me, Atsumu,” you plead.

He pauses, chest heaving, voice rough as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you exhale against his lips, and his mouth slots against yours as he notches his shaft at your entrance and sinks his cock into you.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you’re reduced to moans and whimpers while he stretches you open as your entire body floods with pleasure, your mind hazy with desire. Once he bottoms out, you feel so full you want to cry. You want to keep your legs wrapped around his waist and cockwarm him all night. You want him to fuck you stupid. You want to ride his cock until you both can’t move.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, hips rocking as he thrusts in and out of you, your walls fluttering with pleasure at the rhythmic push and drag. “Wanna take you home and do this again and again.”

“Me too,” you tell him, and you can feel the way his cock throbs inside of you at your admission, his fingertips tightening around your waist.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not gonna last much longer,” he admits, grinning against your mouth.

The pleasure is rapidly building up inside of you again, the filthy slide of Atsumu’s tongue in your mouth only further fanning the flames, one hand trailing back up to tease at your hard nipples.

And you want to tell him, “Same,” because you’re dangerously close to the edge already, years of studiously ignored desire all spilling over into a crazed, insatiable need that’s making your pussy throb.

But instead what you whine is, “Harder.”

Atsumu groans, the noise nearly as lewd as the continuous sound of his cock pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the only warning that he heard you before he picks you up off of the counter, plunging right back into you the moment you’re lying flat on the floor.

With the ground beneath your bodies for purchase, Atsumu begins to roughly pound into you, the fingers of one hand tangling with your own as the other trails toward your clit.

You moan his name repeatedly, like some fucked up carnal prayer on the floor of Onigiri Miya, and as he rubs circles into your swollen clit and whispers your own name just as desperately, you come so hard everything goes white, every sensation in your body drowned out by the sheer downpour of pleasure that you’re uncontrollably shaking with. Atsumu follows suit a moment later, pulling out of you and furiously fisting his cock until hot, thick spurts of cum are splattering all over your chest, groaning as he watches his seed paint your tits.

And just because you’re fairly certain what it’ll do to him, you reach down and swipe a glob off of your nipple while you both try to catch your breath, holding eye contact with him as you lick the cum off of your finger and swallow it.

Atsumu’s lips part as he stares at you, eyes widening a little bit before he looks down at his cock, which is already twitching again with interest.

–

Later, when you’re both lying tangled in Atsumu’s sheets, his phone lights up on his nightstand—

Samu: congrats Samu: there is literally a security camera in the shop Samu: also you’re disgusting you own a whole fuckin apartment to fuck in Samu: die slowly

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated<3!

#atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #dee writes

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vax-merstappen · 3 days

Text

undefeated pt. 1 (mv1)

more victories than defeats

summary: it’s the hungarian grand prix and max has won every race this season. when you get pole, can you finally defeat the undefeated?

series masterlist

You walk through the paddock, cameras flashing, people shouting your name. You pull your red cap lower over your eyes, trying to get through the crowd and into the safety of the Ferrari hospitality.

As Ferrari’s clear number one driver, it was no surprise that people wanted to get your picture or signature. Even just a quick sound bite would get a reporter views. And normally you’d try to stop for as many of your fans as possible, knowing that taking a few seconds out of your day would mean the world to them. But today was different. Today you were on a mission.

The Hungarian Grand Prix normally wasn’t a huge highlight on the calendar for you or the team, but today it felt different. With the new upgrades on the car and a stellar qualifying that got you onto pole position, you had a chance.

That chance was to beat Max Verstappen, the current reigning world champion. Last season he had dominated, winning all but three races, his teammate Checo Pérez taking the ones he failed to win. And this season, he had claimed all of the victories of the first twelve races. He was on track to win every race this season, setting a Formula 1 record and doing something nobody else had ever been able to do.

But not if you had any say in the situation. As his main rival on track you would do anything to stop his reign. The bad blood between you and Max ran deep, having started racing in Formula 1 the same year as him. With both of you going into your 10th season in the sport, it was clear to most people that he was the better driver and you hated that.

Maybe today would be different.

You walked into the Ferrari garage, quickly making your way over to your race engineer, Renée, and pulled her aside.

“So what’s the game plan for today? Besides keeping Max behind me and defending like crazy.”

She smiled at you. “We’re running a one stop strategy. You’re going to have to push like crazy at the start and try to get a lead. You know how aggressive he is…”

I scoff. “Aggressive is an understatement. He’s a damn maniac.”

Renée chuckled. “Yeah. Well you’ve got pole so you’ll have a slight advantage over him in second. And you’ve got your teammate Charles behind you in third, so you should have the support there. He’s been made aware that his job is to keep the rest of the grid off of you and Max. Even our odds against him.”

You nod. “Glad to know. We’ve got to win this one today. He can’t win them all.”

“He won’t. We’ve got pole, a good strategy, car upgrades, and your determination to win this one. Today will be our day.”

“Let’s hope it is,” you say, giving one last acknowledgment to Renée before walking to your driver’s room to start your pre-race ritual.

You put on your headphones and started playing your favorite hype song, practicing a few stretches that you always did before a race. As you continued to follow your routine, slowly all the noise faded away and you were left with one feeling. Determination that Max would not win.

---

As you walked out to stand for the Hungarian national anthem, you found yourself lined up directly next to the world champion himself. The tension nearly crackled in the air between you as you made eye contact with Max, his gaze more like a glare. You didn’t dare speak to him as the performer was singing and the grid kids stood before you, but you could already tell he was focused. Though he seemed nonchalant, you knew it secretly bothered him that you were on pole.

As soon as the performance ended and the drivers began to disperse, you whispered under your breath as you walked by him. “Enjoy watching my rear wing.”

You walked away before you could see if he responded.

Standing by your car, you prepared yourself to race. You needed to start strong and capitalize on your pole position. You risked a glance back at the Red Bull behind you, watching Max put on his helmet and ready himself to get in the car. You could have sworn he was looking back at you, almost as a predator looks at prey.

You climb into your car, pulling your own helmet over your head, readying for the formation lap. You give a thumbs up to the crew, watching them step away from the car and take the covers off the tires.

As you pull away from the start line, you move side to side across the track, trying to warm your tires to get better grip for the start. You knew Max would be on you instantly, trying to pass you as you went into the first corner. You went through the corners of the track on the formation lap, readying yourself for the race.

As you pulled into pole position, you watched the red lights begin to light up

Lights out and away we go.

You sped up as fast down the main straight, trying to get your car first on the inside line. You could see Max beside you, trying desperately for the same thing. As you went wheel to wheel, you nudged your car ahead of his, managing to secure the racing line for the time being.

But in your mirrors was Max Verstappen in a Red Bull, arguably one of the scariest sights in Formula 1. And as you made your way around the first few laps, you just couldn't find a way to shake him. He kept behind you, only just outside of getting DRS to pass you.

You kept speeding through the corners of the Hungaroring, sensing it was only a matter of time before he passed you. The pressure was on, the Red Bull and Ferrari rivalry at its greatest.

One pit stop each and a safety car later, you found yourself driving slowly behind the car. And in your mirrors, you could now clearly see the man himself, right on your rear wing. Any lead you had built was gone, taken away with the safety car. The lion was in striking distance and you knew it.

As the safety car moved to resume the race, you pressed the pedal full on, needing to shake the dutchman behind you. With only 10 laps left of 70, you needed to hold on.

But as good of a driver you were, Max was better. The best driver on the grid, undefeated in the first 12 races of the season. And he wouldn't let a Ferrari beat him.

You entered the main straight and you knew Max was close enough for DRS. You watched he caught up to you, going wheel to wheel as you sped through the track.

It would have been easier to accept if there'd been a fight, some sort of defense available, a challenging overtake for Max.

But he just breezed past you, as if you weren't even there. Not a threat. Not a problem. Not anything he'd ever worried about.

Even after a strenuous and hard fought race to gain a lead, Max Verstappen once again would win. His thirteenth consecutive race. Another damn record.

You finished the last nine laps of the race, still pushing but not nearly as hard. You felt defeated. Nothing you or the car was capable of would be enough. Not against him, a living legend of a driver.

As you crossed the finish line in second, you congratulated the team on their efforts on the radio, but your heart wasn't in it. Most drivers would be happy with a podium, if not elated. But not you. Not when you would be forced to spray him oncemore with champagne. Not when he would take home another trophy, which would just be another hunk of metal to him.

You climbed out of the car besides him, noticing Oscar Piastri pulling into the 3rd place spot. You could at least be a little happy for the Australian, having earned another podium in just his second season. You walked up to Oscar and congratulated him, making a point to do so before turning to Max.

"Congrats on the win," you said, your voice monotone.

"Thanks," Max replied simply. "You had a good drive there at the start."

"Not good enough," you retorted, trying and failing to hide your disdain at both him and your own failure.

"Still a podium though," Max shrugged.

"You know damn well you'd be pissed in P2."

Max looked you in the eye. "I think you should be grateful I let you lead the race for so long. My car is clearly faster than yours."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't want to do this here. Not with all the cameras."

Max had the audacity to smirk. "Suit yourself. But I did earn the win, don't deny me that."

You hated it when he was right.

You stalked away from Max on track and headed over to your team, clapping a few of the engineers and team members on the back for their performance. Sure, you were mad. But they still got you a podium position. And you wanted to delay the cooldown room as long as you could.

But you couldn't delay it that long, and god did some water sound refreshing. So you went into that room, looking at Max seated in the center chair, Oscar on his right in the 3rd place chair. You grabbed a water bottle and slumped down in the remaining seat next to Max, not saying a word.

"Could have taken that corner better," Max said, commenting on a clip of your car briefly sliding out of track limits. "Maybe that's why you lost some time to me right before the safety car."

"Thanks for the observation," you said sarcastically.

The tension in the room was palpable. You almost felt bad for Oscar Piastri, having to deal with the two of you.

"If there hadn't been that safety car, I would have had a tougher race. But I still think I could have caught you... your tires seemed to be degrading faster than mine. At least that's what the team said. Also with a few of those small mistakes like going wide on the turns..."

He kept going on, in his typical way, what the internet had dubbed Maxplaining. They were right. It was like he didn't understand that you knew your mistakes and how he had driven faster.

But anyways, you were spared as the three of you were called for the podium. Oscar went out first, followed by you.

You heard the cheers of your team and fans and you tried your hardest to be happy and excited about your podium. But when the cheers for you were eclipsed by those for Max, you couldn't pretend anymore.

You stood only begrudgingly beside him on the podium as the Dutch national anthem played for the 13th time in a row. And when he popped the champagne, even he didn't seem excited, like winning had become habitual for him and that this was an obligation, not a reward.

This was a man with more victories than defeats in the past few seasons.

A man who's wins were routine.

A man you loathed with your whole being.

You chose to spray your champagne over your own head rather than his. An act of protest and anger.

And when you left the podium, you left with stronger feelings. The taste for victory lingered on your tongue. And the desire for revenge burned stronger in your heart.

Part 2 coming!

taglist: @jehun

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen series #f1 series #mv1undefeated

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 days

Text

All of Me

Part 7

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Jake shows up when he doesn’t have to and it just makes you want him more.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, ass play, oral (both m & f receiving), femdom kind of?, p in v, idk probably more. Lmk if I missed anything.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Look who I found wandering around like a lost puppy,” Bradley says as he enters your office with his lunch on Monday. “Said he was on his way here?”

Jake comes in behind him, looking a little worse for wear.

“Yeah,” you reply, “We talked about it on Saturday, he’s got a little bit of a medical phobia so we’re gonna try having lunch in the medical center and see if it helps.”

“Makes sense,” Bradley nods, buying the ruse. “That’s why you kept putting your physical off, eh?”

“Yeah,” Jake replies, picking at his food.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Bradley tells him, trying to put him at ease, “Can’t say much when I’m terrified of clowns,” he turns to you. “What time is Drew’s game on Wednesday?”

“6,” you pull out your phone to double-check.

“I should be able to make it then. Wanna come?” He asks Jake.

Jake looks at you, not wanting to overstep.

“Drew would love it,” you say honestly, giving him the okay.

“Sure,” he smiles, “I’ll be there.”

“Hey, did you sign him up for that camp yet?” Bradley asks, “he’s been talking about it nonstop and asked me to remind you.”

“Yes, last night. It’s a 2-week sleep-away camp,” you explain to Jake. “I was a little hesitant; he’s only 8 and it’s right after school lets out so I won’t get to spend much time with before he has to leave but I decided to let him go. I never got to do fun stuff like that when I was a kid.”

Jake nods. “Some of my favorite memories were made at summer camp.”

“Agreed,” Bradley says. “Plus you’ll have 2 weeks to all to yourself. Maybe you’ll finally get laid.”

Jake’s trying not to smile as you choke on the water you were sipping. “Jesus Roo.”

He shrugs. “What? Maybe you’d sleep better after getting dicked down.”

“Please stop,” you mutter, hiding your face in your hands.

“I’m just saying,” he continues. “Maybe Jake here could help you out?”

It’s Jake’s turn to choke.

“Just because you’re a manwhore doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be,” you tease as you throw a crouton at him.

“I’m not-hang on I’ve gotta take this, it’s Cyclone,” Bradley says, answering his phone as he steps out in the hallway.

Jake gives you a knowing smile as you shake your head at Bradley’s antics.

“…be right there,” Bradley says as he returns a moment later only to grab his lunch and turn back to the door. “Gotta go, he wants to talk to me quick before our hop this afternoon. See ya guys.”

“Bye,” the two of you reply but he’s already gone.

“So what’d you do yesterday?” You ask.

“Not much, just caught up on some laundry. You?”

Missed you. Thought about you all day.

“Cleaned, caught up on some laundry too, and played baseball with Drew and Ron,” you reply.

“You play baseball too?” He asks. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

You smile. “I played a lot of sports growing up,” your smile fades as you continue. “Anything to avoid going home.”

“Understandable,” his foot nudges yours under the desk; comforting you. “Drew’s lucky to have such a cool mom.”

“He thinks so too. For now at least,” you laugh.

The rest of the lunch passes quickly and soon Sophie’s in the door frame letting you know your afternoon is starting.

“We have lunch meetings the next few days, but I’ll see you at Drew’s game,” he says as he stands.

“Sounds good. I won’t tell him just in case something comes up and you can’t make it,” you say, giving him an out if he wants it.

“I’ll be there,” he says softly, looking towards the door before giving you a quick kiss. “See ya.”

“Bye,” you smile as butterflies take flight in your stomach.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Another package of Reese’s peanut butter cups sits on your desk the following morning, and the next. Knowing now that he avoids the medical unit like the plague, makes his early morning chocolate deliveries even more special.

You’ve texted back and forth a few times but there are lulls in responses from both of you due to busy schedules. So by the time you’re done with work Wednesday, you’re anxious to see him again.

Your phone buzzes as you sit on the bleachers beside Tina and Ron who brought Drew early for warm-ups.

Jake: Our last hop ran late but we’re on our way.

Reese: Sounds good, I’ll save you guys a seat.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Drew’s on deck when the Bronco pulls in and his face lights up like Christmas morning when he sees Bradley and Jake walking up.

“Look!” He mouths at you once he finds you in the stands, pointing in their direction.

You nod with a smile on your face, blinking back the unexpected tears that spring to your eyes.

Jake always looks good; but his damp hair, tight jeans, and showing up to your son’s little league game has you ready to jump his bones.

“Who’s that with Bradley?” Tina whispers. “He’s cute. Is he single?”

You laugh, happy that her eyes are on Jake so she doesn’t see the way you flush. “His name’s Jake, he’s in Bradley’s squadron. I think he’s single,” you lie.

“I’d hope so with the way he’s looking at you,” she murmurs, nudging you.

She’s always been observant. Too observant.

“He’s younger than me,” you tell her. “Only 30.”

“Yeah. That’d totally make you a cradle robber,” she replies sarcastically with a snort. “Looks like Drew’s already a fan,” she continues noticing the way he waves at him excitedly.

You smile as they approach and have to swallow a whimper when you catch a whiff of his cologne as he sits beside you.

“Hey,” his eyes flick to your lips, and leans in, almost like he’s about to kiss you but he stops himself. The cutest blush rises up his neck.

“Hey,” you reply, wishing he hadn’t stopped. “You’re just in time. Jake, these are my…Drew’s grandparents, Ron and Tina.”

“Nice to meet you,” he shakes each of their hands.

“Keep that elbow up, bud! You got this!” Bradley calls from Jake’s other side. Drew nods as he steps up to the plate, his right elbow up.

He swings at the first pitch, but it’s a miss. The next 3 are balls, and the following is straight down the middle but he realizes it a second too late, his head dropping forward in frustration.

“Shake it off,” Jake yells and Drew’s head pops up and he meets Jake’s eye. “Let ‘er rip it if it’s in there.”

Drew takes a deep breath and nods as he steps into the batter's box.

It’s another one right down the middle. He swings, making contact. You rise to your feet and the ball sails over the center fielder’s head.

“Run!” All of you yell as Drew stands there, stunned.

With that, he takes off. Rounding second base as the outfield recovers the ball. It’s thrown to third as he approaches that base but it’s overthrown.

“Go home!” You call, bouncing on your heels.

He slides in just as the catcher gets it and you can’t see anything from the cloud of dust.

But as the dust clears the ump calls “Safe!”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Drew beams the rest of the game; playing better than ever from the confidence boost of his first home run.

Everyone goes with you for ice cream after and Tina gives you pointed looks all night that have you rolling your eyes but you can’t help but smile.

Knowing you have her approval makes your heart feel lighter than it has in a long time.

You type a quick text to Jake while you wait for Drew to buckle in after.

Reese: Do you want to come over tonight? After Drew’s asleep?

Jake: Yes.

Jake: LMK when I’m okay to come over.

Reese: Will do.

“Do you think Dad saw it? My home run? Do you think he’s proud of me?” Drew asks as you pull into the driveway.

His words tug at your heartstrings. He usually brings up Andy when big events like this happen.

“I’m sure he saw it,” you reply truthfully, turning around to look at him. “and I know he’s proud of you.”

He nods and gives you a small smile before heading inside.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Can you be good and stay quiet for me?” You murmur later as you bring Jake’s lips to yours for a searing kiss as you reach back to lock the door of your bedroom.

“I’ll try,” he breathes as he rucks your shirt up and over your head. “Wanna be good for you.”

You shiver at his words while he unbuttons your shorts before pushing them down your legs, leaving you only in your pretty lace underwear and matching bra that you put on earlier.

“Pretty,” he murmurs as his fingers trail over your cleavage, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You smile and guide him backward toward your bed, stripping him naked before pushing him gently onto his back, pressing kisses down his neck and across his collarbone. He jolts when you flick your tongue over his nipple.

“This okay?” You ask, looking up at him. When he nods you do it again before giving it a gentle suck while running your fingers over the other.

You play with his chest for a while, seeing what he likes and what gives the biggest reactions; and like he admitted to you before, he likes a little pain.

“Like that?” You ask as you pull your mouth off the sensitive bud, fingers still pinching the other.

“Yessss,” he sucks a breath in through his teeth when you pinch harder; both of them now.

You kiss your way lower, wanting to pleasure him in other ways.

Precum is steadily leaking from the tip and he gasps when you pull it into your mouth with a satisfied hum. Giving him a few sloppy bobs to coat him fully with your saliva before going lower to mouth his sac, enjoying the way he shudders. You wet your fingers in your mouth and sit back up.

“Have you ever been touched back here?” You ask, fingers tracing just behind his drawn-up balls, waiting to hear what he says before going further.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Heard it can be good though.”

“Want me to?” You ask before sucking the head of his cock into your mouth again. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

He nods, head falling back on your pillow when you start sucking him off again. Once his hands slide into your hair you move your finger lower, tracing a wet fingertip over his tight ring of muscle. His fingers tighten in your hair and he tenses at the first touch eventually relaxing when you begin to circle.

“Fuck,” he rasps when you gently press; the broken sound making you clench. “That-ah…that’s good.”

“Mmm,” you hum around him, taking him a little deeper into your mouth, using your unoccupied hand to stroke what you can’t swallow.

“Ree-Reese,” he gasps, gently tugging on your hair to pull you off. “I’m gonna-can I cum?”

You nod, not letting him pull you off.

“I-where should…fuck!” He pants when you keep going, wanting nothing more than to taste him.

His eyes widen when he realizes your plan. One of his hands leaves your hair and you glance up to watch him pull one of your pillows over his face to muffle his wrecked groan as he cums.

You moan around him at the taste, swallowing each burst greedily, releasing him only when he begins to twitch with overstimulation.

Chest heaving, he tosses the pillow aside, eyes instantly catching on the movement of your thighs rubbing together.

He pulls you over him so fast your head spins; not taking the time to take off your underwear, he just licks you through the soaked lace as soon as your thighs straddle his face.

Your hands scrabble, finding your headboard as he pulls you down further onto his mouth, the grip on your thighs bruising as he eats you out.

When your thighs begin to shake, he slips his fingers inside you, curling them just how you like and that’s all it takes.

You nearly draw blood, biting your lip in an effort to stay quiet as you tremble through your release.

Before you come all the way down, there’s a rip of fabric and his tongue is on you again.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You don’t know how much time passes (or how many orgasms occur) when he finally helps you off his face.

A glance shows you he’s hard again. Reaching into your bedside drawer you pull out a condom and slide it on him before straddling his hips reverse cow-girl style and sinking down. His hands come around to grip your hips as you begin to ride him.

Just as you’re about to wipe the excess condom lube on your thigh, an idea comes to mind and your slick fingers slide behind his sac again. He bends his knees, welcoming your touch.

Your motions remain the same as earlier as you ride him slowly; circling and pressing, not wanting to push him too far. But when he thrusts up at the same time as you sink down, your lubed finger slips and breaches him.

“Are you-“ you start to ask.

“Fuckkkkk,” he rasps, tilting his hips up in a silent plea for more.

You press further, clenching at the strangled moan that’s ripped from his throat and the way his hips jerk when you find his prostate.

Knowing he’s not going to last long, your free hand finds your clit as you continue to ride him, rubbing fast circles to his slow presses.

“I-oh God,” he sounds wrecked; barely coherent as he tries to tell you he’s close.

“Cum for me,” you murmur as you press more insistently, toeing the edge of your release already.

You fall off the edge when he pulses around your finger, filling the condom with a guttural groan.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: I think I blacked out when writing the smut.

Anywho🥴, what did you think?

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grandline-fics · 2 days

Note

Hi Kerrie! I really enjoy your writing can I request short/small reader hc for Kid and Law? 🥺

DESCRIPTION: You’re shorter than him

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Kid

WORDS: 444

A/N: I'm so glad you enjoy my work and thank you for this request. I haven't been well the last couple days so only did something short and sweet with this idea with just Kid. Hope you like it

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Kid’s a tall and broad man to begin with and it’s clear he’ll have a head over most people. However the difference in your heights is even more pronounced because your height is naturally on the smaller side. He absolutely can not and will not be subtle about how much he loves you being short. When he’s standing next to you he will always rest his arm on your head and pathetically pretend he’s not doing anything but the large grin and his gaze constantly dropping down to watch your expression shift throughout the exchange.

The first time he’d done this to you, your eyes had grown so wide out of shock and uncertainty about what to do in response that it made Kid smitten with you. He’d already had a clear soft spot for you beforehand but that moment was the point of no return for him and his awakened feelings for you.

Now that you’re a couple though, whenever you sense his approach to engage in this banter that occurs at least three times a day you like to make a game out of it. Sometimes you like to move out of the way just in time for his arm to lurch on just air. Other times you like to let his weight settle on your head before you sit down or purposely drop something so you have to crouch down lower to retrieve it, forcing Kid to stoop further and further to the ground. other times you pretend he isn’t even there until his patience snaps and he has to scoop you into his arms and force you to look at him. When he does you can only grin and press a kiss against his cheek in playful greeting.

Kid is also a menace to you when he demands your attention. It doesn’t matter if you’re doing something important, if he’s in a mood and wants to spend time with you then his needs win. There could be times you’re in mid-conversation with Killer, going over the current provisions on the ship and what needs to be urgently restocked the second you dock at a new island when you hear the heavy steps of Kid coming closer. Before you have the chance to turn your head, his arm is already around your waist and he’s lifting you off the ground. You’ll either be set over his shoulder or tucked under his arm, your limbs dangling in the air as you let him carry you to your shared quarters. You don’t complain though, you feel just as content and secure as he does when you’re curled up in his arms.

------------------------------------------------

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#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece x you #kid x reader #kid x you #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #eustass x reader #one piece eustass #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x you #one piece kid #one piece fic

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delicatebarness · 13 hours

Text

cry baby | chapter six

Summary: Cry Baby returns to the bar.

Warning: Soft Bucky.

Word Count: 952

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Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: Short and sweet. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

You blinked awake, the sunlight streaming through the curtains stirring you awake. The memories of the night before’s tears and Bucky’s comforting presence came into focus as a small smile played on your lips. Stretching, you felt relief as his support had been a soothing balm over your battered spirit.

There was still some lingering anxiety over your body, deciding to take a shower in the hope that the water would wash it away, you padded softly to the bathroom. As the warm water cascaded over you, and the warm vanilla scent of your body wash filled your senses, you let out a sigh of relief and resignation. Today was a new day. Yes, you have had a few bad ones over the week, but, as Bucky once told you, “Bad days don’t last forever. They’re just days and you’ll get through it,”.

John’s taunts and his manipulation tried to loom like a dark cloud over you, but you tried to focus on the positives. For the next two days, you didn’t have to see him.

You wrapped yourself in one of your fluffy towels after you shower and headed back to your bedroom. Once you had gotten yourself dressed, you felt a bit more yourself. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into your living room.

Surprisingly, you found Bucky asleep on your couch. His arm draped over his eyes and the other rested on his chest. You stopped in your tracks, you never expected him to stay, but yet, the sight of him filled you were the reassurance and warmth you had missed over the week. He looked peaceful, a stark contrast to the storm that raged within him.

Quietly, you made your way toward the kitchen, making a pot of coffee. As you poured two cups, the aroma filled the apartment, and you heard Bucky begin to stir on the couch.

“Morning, Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep as you walked back toward him.

“Good morning,” you replied softly, holding out a mug for him as he rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Taking the mug of coffee, he sat up slightly to take a sip. His eyes half-closed. “I wasn’t leaving you alone,” he mumbled, setting the mug on the coffee table. “Come here,” he patted the space beside him on the couch, his sleepy demeanor not fully comprehending his invitation. “Just for a few minutes,” he added, his voice trailing off as he lay fully back down.

Setting your coffee with his, you smiled softly. “Okay,” you whispered, moving to lay beside him. Bucky draped his arm around you the moment you settled in, pulling you closer to his chest. His steady heartbeat against your back. Despite the initial awkwardness of currently being your friend and brother’s best friend little Spoon, the comfort of his embrace was undeniable, and you felt safe.

“You’re so warm,” you murmured as you snuggled in closer to him.

He hummed in agreement, his eyes closing again. “You smell nice.”

You chuckled softly, “Thank you, it’s vanilla.” you confirmed back to him as you relaxed into him more.

For a few minutes, you stayed like that, basking in each other’s arms. A simple act of comfort and security. The weight of the week continued to lift, and you felt a glimmer of peace.

“So,” Bucky stirred again, more awake this time. “What’s the plan for today?” he asked, his voice clear. You shrugged your shoulders against him. “I know everyone misses you, especially Steve.”

You sighed, you missed your friends and brother deeply, it hadn’t felt right not being around them. “Maybe, we could all meet up at the bar? It feels like forever since the six of us hung out.”

“That sounds perfect,” his face lip up as he moved a stray strand of hair out of your eyes. “I’ll text them and set it up.”

You both sat up, reached for your no lukewarm coffees, and prepared yourselves for the day.

Stepping inside of the bar, you were greeted by the lively atmosphere of conversation, the occasional shouting, and clinking beer bottles. The regulars, many of whom you knew well from the years of coming here, looked up and cheered as they saw us.

“Hey, look who’s here! One of the bikers called out, raising his drink in a toast to you. “You’ve been missed, Tiny!” another shouted, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Bucky gave you a nudge, “He’s not wrong,” he smiled as he gestured toward your usual booth. A warmth of happiness washed over you as you approached your already-seated brother and friends. They stood to greet you, their face lighting up.

“Sis!” Steve exclaimed, pulling you into a tight bear hug. Natasha wrapped her arms around you as Steve let go. “Don’t you ever disappear on us like that again,” her voice filled with affection. Sam clapped you on the back, “You’ve got some explaining to do, kid,” his smile wide as he handed you your usual drink: A cherry cola with a straw.

“We all missed you so much, it’s not been the same without you.” Wanda beamed at you as she pulled you into a tight hug.

You felt uplifted by their welcome. “I missed you guys too,” you said. Your eyes beginning to well, for the first time in a long time, from happiness.

The bar owner, seeing the commotion and your return, came over with another round of drinks. “On the house, for our favorite Cry Baby,” he said with a wink. The nickname was enduring, claimed by everyone in the bar, a tribute to their appreciation for you always wearing your heart on your sleeve.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #biker!bucky #biker au #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers x sister!reader

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newluvrs · 1 day

Text

PARTY 4 U [PT. 2]

Sungchan ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎ mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: SOMETHING ABOUT US - DAFT PUNK word count: 4.9k bb note: sorry to Karina I watched the supernova mv in the middle of writing this

Two months later and you’re still kicking yourself in the ass. It’s killing you to have so much of him and none of him at all. You try and be as positive as you can, at least cherishing that this is the most time you’ve ever spent together. But it’s not helpful, if anything it just makes it so much worse. And Sungchan is such a romantic lover amongst all of the filth that takes place between the two of you. Kissing you always, keeping eye contact with you when he gets the chance, holding you close as he fucks you, going as far as to hold your hands as he’s deep inside of you. Worst of all he’s got such an awful possessive streak, and it shows in the way he holds you, the way he feels the need to mark you where only he can see. It rips your heart in two the way he asks you if you’re his.

“You’re mine, right?”

His voice always shakes as he asks it, and you always assume its from the pleasure, neglecting to hear the vulnerability in the way he asks. And his heart rips in two at the way you always respond.

“Yes Sungchan, all yours.”

How can something so good feel so fucking awful. But you’re in too deep to stop it, and you’re too selfish to let it go; to let him go. Your friends have long since noticed whats happening between the two of you. Shotaro holding his tongue about how terrible an idea it is, but he thinks that that’s something for the two of you to learn on your own, hopefully with a positive outcome. And so the weeks go by like that, the two of you over at each other’s places several times a week, hanging out with your friends in the time in between.

That’s where you find yourself now: your hips propped up on a pillow with Sungchan seated deep within you. His face is hid in the crook of your neck with your nails digging into the skin of his back, overwhelmed by how good he’s making you feel. Everytime he lets out a groan you can’t help but clench around him. He just sound so fucking good, and it’s all because of you.

In the 2 months since the two of you have started this arrangement, Sungchan has become extremely familiar with your body and its reactions. He knows that if he plays with you enough during foreplay, that you’ll get absolutely soaked. He knows that you love the sound of his voice, the timbre of it right next to your ear making you shiver. He knows that your cheeks burn when you hear the wet push and pull of him inside you, making you want to hide your face. He knows that you love positions where you can feel all of him. And he uses all of this knowledge to his advantage. Every. Single. Time. A tap on your cheek brings you back to reality.

“You still with me baby?”

God, the fucking pet names. All you can give him is a nod of your head, too fucked out to speak.

“Too much?”

He slows down his pace as he says this, lips ghosting over yours. And it feels so fucking good you can’t even think, too focused on feeling everything he’s giving you. Not capable of words but managing a whimper.

“It’s okay baby you can take it.”

He uses his large hands to pull your hips flush against his as he says it, somehow reaching deeper. He smirks at the way you tip your head back, cocky because he knows he’s making you feel good. It’s obvious from the way your body responds to his, clinging to him tighter. Everything he says always sounds so sweet but his touch is so rough, pressing bruises into your hips the way he tries to keep you positioned for him. Sungchan’s got a terrible habit of manhandling you but you’re not complaining. Sometimes you intentionally try and slip out of a position just to hear the way he says “I got you baby” as he tightens his grip on you, keeping you in place.

In a moment of clarity you push a hand between both of your bodies to rub at your clit. Sungchan notices this, immediately pouting before pushing to replace your hand with his own.

“Just lay there and let me take care of you, look so pretty like this.”

When he starts to rub your clit you know you’re not gonna last very long. Everything is just too much and he’s fucking you too good. You open your eyes to look between the two of you, watching how he plays with your clit as he pushes in and out of you. The sight is filthy and when you bring your gaze to his it overwhelms you the amount of feeling that’s behind it. You can feel the familiar tightening in your lower tummy, not even needing to warn Sungchan because he can already tell.

“Gonna cum?”

You let out a small hum at the question, your voice failing you at the moment. In between how good he making you feel coupled with the way he’s watching you, it doesn’t take much before you’re clinging to him tighter as you let out cries of his name as you cum around him. He talks you through it everytime as he chases his own high.

“Did so good, y/n. It’s all for me, right? Just for me?”

There’s the possessiveness again, you tell him yes everytime, not thinking about the meaning behind the words. He lets out a groan when you agree, loving how pretty you look when you cum and all because of him. When he hits his climax he drops his head into the crevice of your shoulder as he lets out a full body shiver. His grip tightening on your hips as he pushes as deep as he can into you and when you whine from the overstimulation it drives him crazy.

“y’ take it so good for me baby.”

You can barely hear what he’s saying, but you can feel the way his teeth sink into your shoulder right after he says it as he fucks you through his high, releasing into the condom.

When you’re both finished, you lay there panting together much like the first time, both trying to catch your breath. You’re always nervous that it’ll feel awkward, and as a result you’re never the first one to start moving, waiting instead for Sungchan. Like clockwork he pulls himself up from you, leaving a quick kiss on the available skin in front of him before detaching himself from you. You would love to say that you have long since stopped reading into the tenderness of the way he treats you after you sleep together, but you would be lying.

As you lay there staring at the ceiling, you play back every kiss, every gentle touch, all of it. You tear yourself to pieces every time in the brief moment it takes him to retrieve a washcloth from the bathroom. Sungchan pretends not to notice the pensive look on your face when he returns he’s seen it before and he’s scared that if he speaks too soon it’ll shatter whatever it is the two of you have. Instead he settles for gently running the towel over your skin, wishing he could leave kisses in it’s wake. When he’s finished, he tears you from your thoughts by quietly reminding you to use the bathroom, always sure to look out for you. The brief moments you find yourself alone as you pee are for preparing yourself to watch him leave. This whole “nonchalant lover” is way too fucking hard, you feel like you’re going crazy. You take a deep breath before exiting your bathroom, trying to soothe yourself.

You offer him a shy smile when you emerge as he stands to pull his clothes back on, bashful now after the not-so-sacred events that just took place. When he turns, you pretend like your eyes don’t linger on him a little too long, with a little too much feeling. You try and burn the sight of your nail marks permeating the surface of his back into your memory. You like the contrast of the red swells against the otherwise unblemished skin. Your heart aches when you recall you have no reason to feel this way, no reason to be possessive. You force yourself to look away before he can turn back around again, moving to pull on your own clothes. You clear your throat, willing your feelings away as you break the silence of your mutual post-hookup cleanup.

“My birthdays coming up..”

You know he already knows this, matter of fact he’s usually the one to bring up it’s existence first before you get the chance, but this year you beat him to the punch. When he doesn’t respond you turn to look at him, watching him search for something in his phone before he proudly presents you with the calendar reminder in his phone. You can’t fight off the smile that comes to your face when you see it.

“I’ve had it marked since freshman year.”

You pray to god that the heat in your bedroom conceals the blush that rises to your cheeks. He really is not making any of this easier on you.

“Well, I’m just letting you know because Yunjin’s throwing me a party this year..”

You pause before you ask your next question, swallowing the lump in your throat,

“can you make it?”

He walks over to you and presses a kiss to your forehead as he grabs his keys, ready to leave you.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You smile as you follow him to pull on his shoes at the entrance to your apartment, your mind now thinking of the date 2 weeks into the future. You already know what you’re gonna wish for on your birthday. Him. Deep within you, you harbor a secret hope of some grand confession, maybe a kissing in the rain moment. You don’t even like PDA. You just like the idea of him realizing his feelings for you. As he opens the door to leave he turns around to look at you one more time, like he just remembered something.

“Oh yeah and plus, I already bought your gift a month ago.”

He says it casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to do that for someone. And it kills you. You know deep down that this can only end one of two ways, but for now that’s a worry for a future you.

“Would you mind if I asked out Sungchan?”

The feeling that runs through you is that akin to being dropped in ice water, the shock of the question making you freeze.

“Unless you two have a thing then-“

“We don’t.”

Karina flinches at the abruptness of your response, your tone of voice being just a little too loud and harsh to be normal, especially in contrast to the quiet environment of the library. You clear your throat in an effort to come across like you don’t care.

“We don’t.. have a thing that is.”

You look down at the schoolwork that lies between the two of you, hoping that she gets distracted and doesn’t press any further. Karina is sweet, she’s kind and beautiful, and if your memory serves you correctly you can recall a time that Sungchan was interested in her in your sophomore year. It’s been a week since you’ve last seen him, and her question makes you very aware of that, and even more aware of how you haven’t heard from him. Her voice is small when she speaks up again, a little shier now.

“I just thought he seemed really sweet.”

You feel guilty now, firstly for unintentionally yelling at this poor girl, and secondly it’s starting to dawn on you that there’s a chance you could be ruining potential matches for Sungchan. There’s an internal struggle within you, because you know that technically you do have a thing with Sungchan, and it’s existence is your fault. Simultaneously, you can’t help but feel like as his friend, he deserves something more.. even if he’s not finding it with you. The hope that something would change between the two of you is starting to dwindle, and now you have pretty Karina here. Someone who you know he was interested in in the past, someone who is now sitting here and telling you that she is very much interested in him.

“What is it you like about him?”

You’re still looking down when you ask the question, flipping through pages of your notebook to feign nonchalance. You risk a glance at her as you say it, and you see her deep in thought, a smile coming to her face. You wonder if you look the same when you think about him.

“Hm.. I like that he’s himself, in all situations. I like that in the few times we have spoke he’s always made an effort to be a friend. He’s just very.. generous.”

It stings a little to hear him described through the rose-tinted glasses of someone else. You feel so selfish right now because in-fact, you don’t want to let him go. You don’t even want to entertain the possibility. But Karina is so sweet and who are you to stop him from being happy? Sungchan is widely desired and by many people, you can’t help but feel like if it isn’t Karina today then someone else will come around tomorrow, someone who isn’t as kind as she is.

“I think you should speak to him.”

You watch the way her eyes light up as you say it, the joy clear on her face.

“Really?” The hope in her voice stings.

“I mean it, I could see if he isn’t busy now?”

You don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself but as she excitedly nods you’re pulling out your phone, telling him to come see you in the library. Internally, you hope that he doesn’t show, but Sungchan always shows up when you ask him to, always the reliable one. Before you know it, he’s walking up to your table that’s tucked away in between the shelves full of books. He already has a smile on his face, one that falters a bit when he sees Karina but you just take it for nerves. He pulls out a chair next to you, setting his things next to yours, greeting the both of you as he does so. He retrieves a pastry from his bag and sets it in front of you, watching your expression. You look from him, and then to Karina who’s watching the exchange in front of you.

“I’m sorry Karina had I known you would be here I would have asked if you wanted anything.”

He’s charming as ever as he says it, even when he’s apologetic. You pick up on how he says he would have asked her, but he didn’t have to ask you because he already knows the sweet treats you favor. She shakes her head as she announces that it’s okay, but you can’t help but feel like maybe she might misread things and so you push the pastry in front of her.

“I’m actually not very hungry right now, Karina can have it. Karina you like sweets right?”

She smiles brightly at your offer, nodding her head as she starts to eat the treat. You look at him and offer him a smile as a way to say “see?”, but when you look at him he just looks confused. The air takes on an awkward tone, no one really speaking after the first exchange. You speak up in an effort to shift the conversation.

“I’m actually tutoring Karina in applied calculus right now.. we’re prepping for a final right now.”

“is that so? I didn’t know you tutored.”

Sungchan takes out his own things as he says it, looking at you interested as ever, encouraging you to go on.

“I’m not that great, but she’s a quick learner.”

“We’re struggling with polynomials right now, but y/n is very patient.”

You smile at her compliment, telling her a polite thank you.

“Are you coming to y/n’s birthday party?”

When he addresses her her face lights up, but she still tries to maintain a calm energy. She nods her head instead of speaking, mouth presently occupied with eating the pastry, hoping that he understands her.

“It’ll be great to have you there, y/n deserves a big celebration full of friends.”

You roll your eyes at the compliment he throws you, catching the way Karina hangs onto how he says it’ll be great to have her there. You feel Sungchan place his hand on your thigh from under the table, he gives it a gentle squeeze and your body is set alight. As you observe her giddiness, the touch makes you feel guilty. You start to think they’re not gonna be able to talk with you still in their presence, and an idea comes to mind. Admittedly it doesn’t sit quite right with you, but to be truthful you don’t want to be near them if it means watching Karina flirt with Sungchan. It hurts too bad to watch her and be reminded of yourself.

“Actually, Sungchan you aced applied calc last semester right?”

Absentmindedly he nods his head, hand still placed on your thigh, trailing up a little further. You choke on a cough as you try and shake his hand off.

“You remember polynomials?”

He gives your thigh one last squeeze before pulling his hand away reluctantly, humming in agreement. You hold your breath before you ask the next question, not sure what outcome you want the most, for him to agree or not.

“Do you mind teaching Karina? I just can’t explain it that great and I’m not feeling super well.”

He brings the same hand that was previously on your leg up to your forehead, checking your temperature. His concern makes your chest ache, especially since you know your lying.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You watch Karina’s expression as he asks it and she’s looking away like she’s witnessing something she’s not supposed to and you panic, standing abruptly as you start packing your things.

“I’ll be fine to make it home myself, but do you mind staying with Karina? She could really use the help.”

You shoot her a reassuring smile, trying to convey to her that you’re trying to give them time alone. Sungchan looks from you, to her, and then back to you with an expression you can’t read.

“If you’re not feeling well then I can help her.”

You nod your head, finishing packing your bag as you feel his hand lingering on your lower back. You pull away from him and bid them both a quick goodbye as they both wish for you to feel better. You don’t notice but Karina does, the way Sungchan’s eyes watch for you even after you’ve already left their sight, the hand that was touching you still flexing like he was reaching for something.

When you make it back home, you pace back and forth in your apartment, picking at your nails. You want to run back, want to tell Karina that no she can’t ask him out because the two of you are together. But he stayed there with her when you left the two of them. Maybe he does like her, and maybe what you have is over. Of course it’s just like you to dig your own grave.

When the nerves and the overthinking don’t settle, you decide to jump in the shower. It’s barely midway through the day and truly an odd time for a shower but you don’t know what else to do with yourself. As you take off your clothes, you catch your reflection in the mirror and what you see hurts so bad. Faded marks from Sungchan left where only you can see. It’s been a week since you last saw him so they’re starting to wear off, and usually he’s always quick to renew them. Your natural state has just been walking around like that, they remind you of tattoos but a little sweeter. Except as you look at them now you’re reminded that tattoos are permanent, not like the fading blue hues staring back at you in the mirror.

You had asked Sungchan once about why he liked to hide them so much. That night he lingered a little longer, when you came back from your ritualistic pee it shocked you to see him still sprawled out on your bed. Instead of questioning it you joined him, moving slowly and gently like if you move too fast it’ll scare him away. When you settled next to him, he wrapped his arms around you, moving so he rested his head against your chest. His fingers lightly traced the marks he left, delicately so as not to hurt you. The intimacy made you feel dizzy, heart beating quickly in your chest, he could no doubt hear it right now. Testing your boundaries you bring your hand up to play with his hair, just trying to soothe where you had fucked it up. You watch him as he stares at the marks on you, deep in thought.

“Why do you always put them where only I can see?”

You didn’t mean anything behind the question, it was a genuine curiosity of yours. You had your theories, shamefully the one that took precedence in your mind was maybe he had wanted to hide what it is that happened between you two. A less harmful one being that maybe he just liked those parts of you the most, that maybe he didn’t put much thought into the placement. His actual response made you feel a little too tender, the intimacy choking you.

“Because they’re only meant for you.”

That answer stings more when you consider how before you and Sungchan got involved in any of this you confided in him about your dislike for prying eyes in your relationships. You felt like the connection you have with someone else is sacred, and it’s more special if only you see it. Thinking back to it now as the water cascades down your body you wish there was a way for you to scrub clean all that you had done. Maybe then it would be easier to forget, maybe then it would be less painful.

When you jump out of the shower you stare at your phone. You’re not sure what you’re hoping for, all you know is that you wanted to hear from him, maybe it’s best that you didn’t. As you move to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner in an effort to give yourself something to do, you notice that the weather is picking up, a light drizzle heard against the windows. Mindlessy, you wash and cut vegetables, your mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Sungchan. When there’s a knock on your door you’re a little startled, not expecting any company. In your daze you don’t check the peephole, just throwing open the door and you’re met with Sungchan wet from the rain.

“Sungchan?”

When the initial shock settles you step aside, opening the door further for him, he steps in and you move to grab a towel but as you turn to leave he grabs your wrist. You look down at where he grabs your wrist, when you look back at him he lets your hand slip from his grasp. He seems off, and you’re feeling awkward, not quite able to see his face with his expression concealed by the damp hair in his face. To break the silence, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Why didn’t you just use the spare key if you were coming?” You try and laugh off the tension, but it doesn’t sit right in the air.

“Why did you tell Karina that we weren’t a thing?”

His question cuts through the dead air, and straight through you. You’ve never seen him this way, brash and irritated, dare you say a little hurt. Sungchan was always bright, never once did you see him display a negative emotion other than crying during films. This version of him is unfamiliar to you.

“Because we’re not.”

You look down at your feet as you say it, shifting your weight from one foot to the other nervously. You’re very aware of your bare legs right now, your sleep shorts doing very little to cover you. Normally you wouldn’t care but right now you feel so exposed. You look back up at him and for the first time in this conversation, you finally see his face. He’s frowning, looking at you in disbelief, like he can’t believe what it is he just heard.

“You know what y/n, I don’t get you.”

“I thought you liked her.”

He scoffs when you say it, laughing incredulously, tongue poking the inside of his cheek now.

“Are you serious?”

“Why are you mad at me?”

You can’t help the harsh tone to your words because now you’re irritated. You thought you were just doing him a favor. A glare makes itself present on your face and you think to yourself how you’ve never talked to him this way. He hesitates before he says the next part, looking down at his hands and then at you like he’s reaching for the right words. He brings his hands to his face, rubbing at his temples frustratingly before blurting out his next words.

“Because I don’t know how else to get through to you that I like you. We sleep together, I see you several times a week, I drop everything when you need me, do you think that’s just a thing that normal friends do?”

You stare at him as the words settle in the air, he’s watching you with a frown on his face and you can read the genuine frustration laced in his words. You stand there, shocked, like you didn’t hear the words he just said or are just plain out refusing to. You shake your head, turning your back to him, lips pursing.

“Don’t say stuff you don’t mean.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. What is it gonna take for you to believe me, what else do I have to do to show you.”

He walks in front of you as he says it, taking your hands in his own now, pleading with you. You feel the coolness of his palms from the rain and you want to warm him up. You want to invite him inside with you for the night where the both of you can just exist together. But all of the feelings taking place between the two of you is just two much and you don’t know what to do or say to make you come down from them. You pull your hands away from his and wrap your arms around yourself.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

The words fall from your lips abruptly and quietly, spoken like a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

His voice is equally as quiet, but more hesitant now, all the fire gone. Sungchan reaches out for you again and you pull away before he’s able to touch you.

“I hate this so much, it’s too much. I hate all of it.”

It stings when you say it but you know it’s true, this whole agreement is eating you alive. Every touch of his is all consuming and overwhelming and you can’t sit in the same space as him anymore without feeling like your drowning in your feelings for him. When he speaks his voice breaks, sounding more hurt than angry.

“You’re the one who said ‘let’s keep it casual’.”

You don’t think enough about how you choose your next words, and the second they’re out you wish you could take them back.

“Well, I never should have kissed you. I never should have let myself believe that I could- that we could, ever have been together.”

The silence that follows is painful as you take in your own words. You hear Sungchan swallow thickly in the quiet space between the two of you as you finally look up at him.

“Is that how you really feel?”

His eyes are red-rimmed and the words fall from him akin to that of a hurt little boy. You wish you could reach out and hold him and tell him that you didn’t mean it. To take his face in your hands and kiss his tears away. But you fucked up, and you can’t come back. You think back to how in a week you’ll be a full year older but you’re still making the same dumbass mistakes. As he turns to open your door you realize how the two of you never even left your front entrance.

“Sungchan-“

The last thing you hear is the sound of your voice breaking as Sungchan gently closes the door behind him, not even slamming it which is arguably more painful. Now encompassed in the silence of your apartment and looking at the wet shoe prints from where he just stood, you let out a sob, letting the consequences of your actions sink in.

#riize x reader #riize smut #sungchan smut #sungchan x reader

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