#it's been so long. let's take it from the top

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s���too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

[pucksandpower]

Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri x y/n #mclaren #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri drabble

[flickering-chandelier]

I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing

Work Count: 5.2k

You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”

Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”

“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.

You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.

“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier. 

“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”

Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning. 

Azriel arched a brow in question. 

“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”

Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”

He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”

You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.” 

Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you. 

“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly. 

He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.” 

You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.

---

A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.

Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”

“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”

The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”

That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”

You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”

He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.

“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked. 

It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you. 

He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop. 

Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.

Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.

---

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House. 

It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company. 

“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.

“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him. 

His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.

Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains. 

Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.

Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment. 

Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”

Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”

“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”

Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”

Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”

“Maybe you should.”

Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely. 

---

It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.

Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet… 

It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.

You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him. 

Cauldron, you were doomed. 

“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Nowhere,” you lied.

She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap. 

“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement. 

“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”

Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”

You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.

You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”

Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”

“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”

Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”

You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”

“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”

---

Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.

“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.

“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank. 

It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him. 

You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend. 

---

“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.

He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”

You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”

He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”

You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.

Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”

“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.

What the hell. 

Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?

He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?

It was your relationships, well your lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off. 

And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?

His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?

It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way. 

Did he feel the same way?

He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much. 

Maybe he should be with you. 

He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.

Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.

You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.

“Az?” You asked.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends. 

You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

You had a long night ahead of you.

---

It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.

It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.

He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.

“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.

“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.

“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.

“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.

“Settled?” Rhys offered.

Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”

“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.

“I do. Of course I love her.”

“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”

“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”

“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.

He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

---

Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier. 

Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.

You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin. 

“You do not,” you smiled.

“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively. 

You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.” 

He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered. 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased. 

Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.

Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.

You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning. 

Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.

“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.

“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”

Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.

“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased. 

“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter. 

You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt. 

Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand. 

Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him. 

All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.

You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you. 

Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.

---

Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries. 

Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone? 

He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him. 

He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.

“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly. 

He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. 

Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”

“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom. 

You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”

“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”

You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”

“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it. 

A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.

Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”

“Looks like I have,” you whispered. 

“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”

“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 

Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?” 

“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”

He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.

Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together. 

One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.

“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.

Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.

He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”

“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling. 

“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.

“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking. 

After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”

Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”

“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said. 

“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.” 

His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them. 

He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.

Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand. 

---

You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty. 

You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him? 

How could you ever be sure?

After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty. 

Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…

You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again. 

What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.

Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this. 

Whatever this ended up being.

Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door. 

“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.

Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. 

“Hi,” you replied timidly.

His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him. 

He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table. 

You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”

His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him. 

It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were. 

On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him. 

You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long. 

Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read: 

You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you. 

I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you. 

Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you. 

---

Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink. 

He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything… 

He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him. 

He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into. 

You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him. 

“Hi,” you said, quietly. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. 

You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.

“I read it,” you whispered. 

He could only nod, his heart in his throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force. 

“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”

Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”

“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”

Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did. 

You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you. 

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”

“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground. 

“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.

Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers. 

---

After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”

Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”

You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.

“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him. 

After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”

You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”

Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel angst #acotar angst #acotar fluff #acotar imagine #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #request

[munson-blurbs]

Hehe for since you asked for fluffy smut, what if reader has had a long day at work and Eddie maybe fixes a bubble bath and they take one together, but then it gets a lil frisky

Is this more smut than fluff? Yes. Am I apologizing for it? Nope.

Collab with @corroded-hellfire who is once again the only reason there's any fluff at all.

CW: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), roommate!Eddie, accidental boners, grinding, lots and lots of touching, mention of oral (f) WC: 1.9k

Home might have been a tiny, two-bedroom apartment that perched above the heart of Hawkins, but at the end of a long shift, it’s Heaven. 

You kick off your shoes; apparently they’re one of the most supportive brands, according to the other waitresses, but your feet still ache. 

The throbbing in your feet is nothing compared to the roaring pain that inflames your lower back. Just pressing the heel of your palms into it makes you wince and groan. 

“You okay?” Eddie calls from his room. You hear him fumbling to put away his guitar before you can even reply. 

The door swings open and he stands there, posture sagging when he sees how beaten down you look. Whatever makeup you had applied that afternoon had long faded, and the stains on your apron certainly added the finishing touch. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is refreshed—infuriatingly so. Today was his day off, and though he put in a lot of work the other six days of the week, you still yearned for the well-restedness that had him bounding over to you. 

“Bubble bath?” When you two had first moved in together, he used to try and talk to you about your day. He took it personally when you retreated to your room without glancing in his direction. But now he knew that you talk when you regain your energy. And there’s no shortage of gossip after eight hours at Benny’s. 

You nod, offering him as much of a grateful smile as you can muster. “That would be great.” You weren’t sure how you managed to find a great friend like Eddie, but you weren’t about to question it, either. 

None of the guys you’d actually dated had ever been so understanding. But Eddie…he managed to always know what you needed. 

He offers you one of his signature grins that always brighten your day and heads down the hall to the bathroom. You take off your name tag when the loud gush of the tub faucet reaches your ears and you barely have time to yank your socks off before Eddie’s back in your doorway. 

“Your spa awaits,” he says. “I would’ve prepared you some music but I don’t think any of my metal cassettes have the ambiance you’re looking for right now.”

You shake your head as you pass by him and step towards the bathroom door. 

“Not really,”  you agree. “I’ll let you know if I need it for some inspiration working out or welding or something.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and slips his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans.

“Wasn’t that Flashdance?”

“Yeah, but that music wasn’t my thing,” you admit with a shrug before you step into the bathroom. The door clicks behind you as it closes and you’re immediately shedding the stained, greasy uniform you’ve been dying to ditch all day. 

A trail of clothing is left in your wake as you step up to the tub, the bubbles fizzing and giving off a calming jasmine scent. Not wanting to scald your skin as the cherry on top of this already grueling day, you slip your hand into the water to test the temperature. It’s perfect. You don’t know how Eddie does it; he must have the magic touch. 

The water, the bubbles, the scent, it’s all too inviting. You lift one leg over the side of the tub and climb in, quickly bringing the other in as well. In your haste to start your relaxation, you slip a bit as you begin to sit down. Instinct has you catching yourself on the sides of the tub almost instantly, but it causes the collection of soap, shampoo, and conditioner bottles to tumble onto the floor in a large heap. You stare at the pile for a moment.

“Ah, I’ll deal with you later,” you decide under your breath and sink further down into the warmth waiting to heal you from your long day. 

The bubbles tickle your skin as they gradually make their way higher. They stop around your breasts and the warm water wraps itself around every achy muscle in your body. 

Suddenly, the bathroom door busts open, a frazzled Eddie charging in with wide, concerned eyes. He’s only in a Corroded Coffin t-shirt and boxers now, so maybe the loud bang woke him from a nap. 

“I-Is everything okay?” he asks as he eyes the pile of bottles on the floor.

“Oh yeah, I just knocked those over when I got in,” you explain. 

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief but the moment his eyes land on you, his body tenses up even worse than before. He’s clearly trying not to stare at you—especially your chest—but he’s failing miserably. You look down to find that your roommate has a pretty good view of the tops of your boobs. 

When you look back to Eddie, you get a pretty nice view yourself. Since he’s only wearing boxers on his lower half, his boner is quite evident. 

A smug sense of satisfaction settles over you, even seeing how uncomfortable Eddie seems to be at getting caught. But you’re not going to tease him or make him feel bad about anything. On the contrary, you’ve thought of yet another way he can help you relax. 

“Do you wanna join?” you purr. 

When Eddie looks your way you give him the most innocent, wide eyed look you can manage and flutter your lashes a few times. 

Worry blooms within you when he doesn’t immediately respond. 

Did I overstep? Is he completely freaked out? Oh my god, what if his boner was completely unrelated to me and I just assumed—

His voice, smaller than you’ve ever heard it, interrupts your thoughts. “Mhm, yeah. I mean, if that’s cool with you.”

You nod, watching as he peels off his shirt and tosses it aside, exposing the soft tendrils of hair across his chest. There’s a tattoo on one pec; you want him, need him closer so you can run your tongue over it. 

He sheds his boxers next. Though you knew he was big just from seeing the bulge behind the fabric, nothing prepared you to see him fully on display. The reddish-pink tip leaks pre-cum as the shaft bobs in desperate search for the warmth of a body. 

“Where should I…” He’s gained a bit of confidence from the way you stare unabashedly at his naked body, but he’s still hesitant to push his luck too far. 

Scooting forward, you gesture to the now empty space behind you. Nerves buzz throughout your naked body —now wet in more ways than one. 

Eddie swings a leg over the edge of the tub, getting his balance before bringing the other to join. The way he places his hands on your shoulders results in an electricity that you can only hope he feels as well. 

His lower body disappears beneath the bubbles and he lets out a relaxed groan. You lean back until your head rests on his chest, his considerable length pressing against your lower back. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers. Whether he means to speak that softly or he can’t manage anything louder, you can’t be sure. “Be careful.”

“Careful?”

He nods, lips grazing the shell of your ear. He’s so close to you, and yet he’s still too far away. “You’re so fucking tempting like this.”

You shift slightly, enough to see the blush in his cheeks that you know isn’t from the steamy bath. “Maybe I want you to be tempted.”

One tattooed arm snakes around your waist, fingers trailing upwards and stopped just shy of your breasts. 

“Don’t tease me,” he begs. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it.”

You take his hand and place it on your left breast. He whimpers, and you swear you could climax from the sound alone. 

Water sloshes around the tub as he hooks his legs around yours, gathering the stability he needs. 

“Fuck…” His hips move as he ruts up against you, desperate for relief. The way he pinches your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, starkly contrasts the gentle kisses he leaves on your shoulder blades. 

You want him. You need him. 

His other hand lays in the water and you guide it between your legs, now spread in anticipation of his touch. 

“There?” He asks as he finds your clit, rubbing it when you nod in the affirmative. 

Eddie increases his pace, fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You arch your back, exposing your neck for him to bite and suck. 

“When we’re done,” he murmurs, “I want you splayed out on the bed for me. I need to see if your pussy is as pretty as I’ve imagined.”

His words awaken something within you. “Y-You imagine me…?” You start, unable to finish your sentence. 

Eddie nods. “Every time I jerk off, Sweetheart, I imagine being inside you. How you’d feel around my cock—mmph, fuck.”

“I picture you, too,” you confess. “Your fingers, or your cock, or—”

He raises a brow. “Or?”

“Or your mouth.” The admission spills from your lips. 

“Yeah? You want me to eat that pretty little pussy of yours?” Your own desire for him amps up his confidence. He’s impossibly and impressively hard, and you would do anything for him to stretch you out. 

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay, Sweetheart. Soon as we’re done here, yeah?” His breath hitches, his rutting becoming sloppier and needier as he nears orgasm. 

Bubbly waves crest over the side of the tub, drenching the bathmat and flooding the tile floor, but neither of you care. 

“Eds, little more, I’m gonna…” 

He follows your every order, your pussy clenching around nothing as he takes care of your clit. 

“Wanna make you feel good.” Eddie kisses your shoulder again. “Please let me make you feel good.”

You can only offer a moan as you come, chanting his name over and over. It’s a name you only ever dreamed about chanting so loudly; it was usually relegated to quiet whispers alone in your room. 

A new warmth, different from the bathwater, coats your lower back and drips down to your ass when Eddie finishes, the hand on your breast squeezing tight, pain and pleasure intermingling harmoniously. 

“Oh my god,” he pants. “That was…”

“Amazing.”

Eddie nods. “So fuckin’ amazing.” 

He lifts a bubble-covered hand to your chin, tilting it slightly so he can kiss you. His lips are soft but move with determination, his tongue sliding between yours. You let him in, your fingers playing with the wet tips of his hair. 

“Meant what I said about eating you out,” he mumbles into your mouth before stealing another kiss. 

Splayed out on the bed. His to ravish. The thought has you lunging for the towel hanging behind the door in an attempt to dry off. 

But when you stand, Eddie reaches out his hand and pulls you towards him, now eye-level with your pussy. “Knew she was perfect,” he says with a smirk. “Bet she tastes even better.”

The kiss he presses to your folds nearly buckled your knees. 

“You wanna find out?” He nods eagerly, and you giggle. “It might be a little lavender-y from the bath soap, though.”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t care. Need you.”

And who are you to deny a man his needs?

--

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut #smut #requests

[ashhh-14]

A Serene Embrace

Husband!Aventurine x Reader

Synopsis : A soft homely evening with your husband Aventurine

Warning : domestic maybe?, very soft and fluffy, you cook him dinner, cuddling and the usual!

A/n : After what he went through, he deserves only the best. Happy reading!

"How was work?" You asked, smiling at your husband as you picked up the dishes from the table, placing them into the sink.

"It was fine." He said, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he sighed softly, continuing, "I had to set the plan for my next destination. It was a little tiring."

His chair screeched against the floor. You hummed, questioning as you started doing the dishes. " So is the layout set for it then?"

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, surprising you. "No it's not done yet. It'll take a month or two it's a long one." He mumbled softly, burying his face into your neck. Peppering gentle kisses across it his hand tried holding your soapy ones to stop you from doing the dishes.

"Let me do them. You must be tired from your work too." You chuckled softly, pushing his hands away as you continued doing them.

"I'm not that tired. I took off early today from the gallery. I wanted to cook something good for you." Turning your head back you leaned a little, placing a soft kiss against his cheek.

He nodded in response, sleep evident in his action as he buried his face again, his both hands slipping inside your shirt, one just laying on your stomach while the other's thumb rubbed shapes across your belly comfortingly.

"Why don't you go and lay down? I'll join you as soon as you're done." You tried reasoning, but your husband stood on his decision.

Shaking his head, his arms tightened around your waist. "Been working too much lately. Want to spend time with my Treasure."

Both pity and warmth blossomed in your chest as you set to doing the dishes faster as he stood there, his head propped on your shoulder, watching your hands rub soap on each dish before washing it with water, making them squeaky clean as you piled them into the rack.

"Okay I'm done" You announced, drying your hands on a towel as you pried his arms away from you.

He gazed down at you as you placed the towel back in its place.

One hand came up to hold the side of your face as the other wrapped around you and pulled you closer.

You breath shuddered as you felt his thumb rub over your bottom lip, his eyes never leaving the subject of attention. No matter how long it is that you've been together, it still felt like day one with him.

He bent down slowly, tilting your head as his lips brushed against yours, his breathtaking eyes still not leaving yours before he fully pressed them, closing his eyes and pulling you closer.

You pulled away after a while, breathless as you looked from beneath the lashes to see his hooded gaze on you.

Placing both of your palms against his face, you ran your thumbs against the apples of his cheeks. "Let's get to bed."

..…..

"I'm sorry for coming home so late Treasure. I really don't mean to. It's just-" you hush him with a stern voice.

"Aven" squeezing your arms around him tighter, a warning, Daring him to continue.

He picked up both your legs, placing them across his lap as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you more into his side.

"Okay Okay I won't repeat that again I promise." He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on top of your head.

You huffed a 'good', placing your head on his chest, listening to the way his heart thumped with a rhythmic beat.

You felt fingers in your hair, the tips rubbing against your scalp in back and forth in motion as you felt his chest vibrate with each word he spoke.

"Does it ever get annoying? Having to move houses every few months due to my work I mean?" His voice was soft asking this, almost vulnerable as you lifted your head, looking at him.

"No." You answered, smiling softly and you almost felt your husband's eyes rack over your face for any sign of lies.

You explained. "It's not annoying. I don't really mind switching houses or my jobs. Home is not a structure. Home is you. Wherever that is."

A look of mild surprise took over your husband's features before he pulled you back against him, placing his head on top of your head as he closed his eyes, trying to drink back the wetness that suddenly pooled his eyes.

Running a steady hand against your back, he released a sigh to steady himself as his mind flooded with past memories.

He pushed them back, regaining his consciousness back in this moment as he pulled away a little, letting you rest against him comfortably once again.

"I love you Treasure." Kissing your forehead he looked down, eyes going soft as they took in your peaceful features.

A gentle rumble left his chest as he whispered to no one in particular "So much for saying you're not tired."

He readjusted you in a more comfortable position, kissing the top of your head once again "I don't really think i deserve it but thank you for doing so much for me, Treasure."

Aventurine Masterlist

Masterlist

Written by yours truly

#x reader #fluff #x you #x you fluff #xreader #xyou #honkai fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine #hsr #honkai posting #honkai x reader #honkai star rail #honkai x you #kakavasha #aventurine x you #star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine #husband!aventurine #husband x reader #husband au #xreader fluff #x reader fluff #fluff oneshot

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Face Sitting (Chris)

Request: reader rides chris’ face for the first time and he ends up shooting his load all over himself because it was so hot to him and her dirty talking was getting to him and everything was just so hot then the reader grinds against his stomach/chest using his cum to slide back and forth and end up cumming on him again while he jerks off because it’s hot to him

Warnings: short, plus sized reader, oral (m/f receiving), stomach riding, jerking off, slight degradation if you squint, cumming untouched, dom!chris

Y/n’s Pov

It had been a long and stressful day for both me and Chris for separate reasons. We were both extremely relieved to finally be able to just chill at my apartment for the rest of the evening without any more stress. Currently, we were lying in bed, Chris had his head on my stomach as I played with his hair. “Hey babe?” Chris asked, “Yes?” “Can we try something new? I’m hornyyyyy!” he whined. He rolled his head to look up at me with a pouty face, “What do you wanna try?” I asked intrigued, “I want you to sit on my goddamn face.” he groaned out.

I was pretty surprised he said that considering I’m not exactly some skinny bitch, but I was also skeptical because of that. “I don’t know, I don’t want to like crush you.” I told him, Chris laughed before saying “You’re not gonna crush me ya goof!” I gave him an unamused look, causing him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious, I really want you to sit on my face. Please, it sounds so hot!” he begged again, “Okay, I guess we can try it.” I told him. Within seconds, Chris was on top of me, harshly pressing his lips against mine, causing me to let out a surprised moan. He pulled away to slide off my shirt, now leaving me in only my panties as I wasn’t wearing any pants.

Almost instantaneously, Chris pulled off his sweatpants and boxers in one go before taking off my panties as well. He flipped us over so I was now on top, helping me rock my hips against his for a minute, spreading my wetness across his already hard cock. Chris laid back before sliding me up to his stomach “Ride my fucking face like a slut!” he growled, moving us both so I was now hovering over his face.

Chris pulled me down onto his face, groaning at the taste as he ran his tongue through my folds. I was trying my best not to put my full weight on him as he started harshly suck on my clit, but Chris didn’t like that. He immediately pulled me all the way down on his face before harshly grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him.

After sending me a wink, he went back to sucking on my clit but quickly switched to giving it little licks before flicking it with his tongue. I had one hand on the headboard while the other slipped down to grab his hand, “Oh fuck, Chris- mhmm! F-Feels so good!” I whined out.

Chris let out another groan against me when he stuck his tongue into my hole and swirling it around. This made me buck my hips forward slightly causing him to let out an extremely whiny, needy moan. “S-So good! Such a good boy for me!” I moaned, causing Chris to start fucking into me with his tongue.

He brought his hands up towards my waist to make me grind against his face before bringing one hand up to choke me. I let out an extremely loud moan when he squeezed my throat harder and started sucking at my entrance, “Fuck! So c-close, gonna cum all over your pretty face!” I cried out.

Chris slapped my ass, making me realize I was now grinding on his face without his help anymore. He let out deep growl as I started to move my hips a bit faster, moaning loudly when I felt myself cum. “Oh shit- yeah, right there! Fuck, Chris- you’re s-so good!” I whined out, after I came down from my high Chris helped me moved down towards his stomach.

I didn’t really register the fact that his stomach was wet since I was still a bit dazed from my high. I looked down at him to see him breathing heavily and smiling with a fucked out expression, “Holy fuck, that was so hot! You literally just made me cum all over myself without even touching me!” he panted out.

His face was still wet with my cum but his expression was something else, he looked so hot right now. I let out another whine when his hands on my hips made me slide down his stomach a bit more as it stimulated my sensitive clit a little. Chris experimentally rocked me back and forth on his stomach a bit, groaning at the why I could easily move thanks to his cum.

“Ride my stomach, c’mon make yourself cum again like a slut.” he demanded, making me grind onto him hard. I’ll admit this was a new feeling but it felt amazing, “Spit in my hand for me babe.” Chris told me, making me a bit confused but nonetheless I complied. My confusion was quickly replaced with shock when I hear the sound of his slick hand rubbing his cock. “Are you really jerking off right now?” I question with a giggle.

Chris’ hand came up to grip my throat again, “Shut the fuck up and grind your needy little pussy against me!” he growled as we both sped up our movements. I quickly felt my high approach and before I knew it, I was cumming all over his stomach. I immediately got off of him and went down to suck his cock, harshly sucking on the head while massaging his balls.

His hands came to push my head all the way down on his cock before letting out a deep groan and cumming down my throat. I pulled off with a pop before looking up at him and licking the mixture of our cum off of his stomach. I licked all the way up to his mouth before making out with him. Chris groaned as he tasted the cum on my tongue before he flipped up over.

We lazily and sloppily made out until he pulled away “Open.” he demanded while grabbing onto my chin. I complied and immediately let out a whine when he spit into my mouth, “Swallow slut.” he growled, I did as he said and stuck my tongue out to show him I listened. “Good girl, always listen to me so well. Now let’s go get cleaned up my love.” he said helping me up, we took a quick shower and changed into new pajamas.

Once we were done, we went back to the bedroom, Chris changed the sheets before we laid down. I cuddled into his side, “The was definitely something fun, I love you handsome.” I told Chris while stroking his hair. “Oh yeah, we’re totally fucking doing that again. That was an amazing experience, thank you for trying it out with me. I love you more angel.” he replied back, placing a kiss on my neck before we slowly drifted off to sleep. We were now both content with the outcome of or say since it felt like the stress had basically felted away.

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[wileys-russo]

Emily fox, on the pitch, (sarcastically) “aw baby I’m sorry did that hurt”

I’m thinking enemies to flirts to lovers

frenemies II e.fox

"well good morning sunshine!" lotte laughed as you sat down beside her with a huff, dropping your bag to the ground and rummaging through it with a hum.

"woke up on the wrong side of the bed did we?" the girl teased pulling on her boots as you sighed. "you have no idea. this is going to be a long day!" you warned as the girl squeezed your shoulder sympathetically, the pair of you falling into conversation.

you smelled her before you saw her, the familiar waft of perfume hitting you before the sound of her laugh did, glancing up to see her walk in with alessia, chirpy grin on her face as usual.

"now now, play nice today even if you are grumpy!" lotte warned with a grin as you knocked your knee against hers with a playful roll of your eyes. "its not me whose the problem lots, you know that better than most." you quipped tugging your socks up as emily sat down across the room.

catching her eye yours rolled again as she sent you a wink, tuning back into her conversation with alessia. "i know you're both as bad as each other, she's been here for months now. wave the white flag! be the bigger person." lotte cautioned gently.

"so you admit she's not the bigger person? so she is in fact, the problem?" you grinned gleefully as your friend sighed at the take. "theres that selective hearing. you might want the long sleeve, we're set for rain!" lotte warned as you groaned quietly and unzipped your bag again.

though as you pulled out the top you quickly realised the number on it was not yours and pushed it hastily back in. "i'll survive." you brushed off her concerns as lotte only shrugged. "come on miss holland, off we go." you teased pulling her beanie down over her eyes and standing.

"not again with the tom holland reference! i don't look like him at all." lotte groaned in annoyance as you only grinned. "no i think its more like one of the robbers from home alone." your smile dropped at the familiar voice, lotte shoving emily with a playful glare before walking off with alessia.

"fox." you greeted shortly, the pair of you following after the girls in front who'd fallen into their own conversation. "as if the english weather isn't cold enough, that tones gonna give me hypothermia." the american shuddered rubbing at her arms as you rolled your eyes.

"oh come on! that was funny, you're allowed to laugh!" emily protested as you strode ahead, hurrying after you. "maybe at you, never with you." you warned, holding back a smile as your boots touched grass and you were able to hurry off to another group of girls.

your mood didn't improve during training, in fact it only got worse as indeed lotte was right and the skies opened up, the rain pouring down the last fifteen or so minutes of training.

given it was the last one before the game this weekend you didn't let it stop you, pushing through at the management teams instructions, breaking off into smaller teams for a round robin of games and a cool down.

all morning emily had been trying to get on your last nerve, her own patience wearing thin as you ignored her time and time again taking lottes advice to be the bigger person albeit the white flag.

but as the rain became near torrential and suddenly you were taken down to the ground a lot harder than necessary considering you'd already given up the ball your tolerance grated.

again and again your back hit the turf with only one culprint taking your legs out each time, your training top coated with mud and bib soggy against your chest as beth whipped a goal into the top corner to end the game and the whistles to finish training finally blew.

right as you'd completed the pass to her again your legs were swept out, wincing as your ass thumped into the ground but you clapped at beths goal none the less not wanting to be a bad teammate.

"aw baby i'm sorry, did that hurt?" a smirk hovered over you accompanied by an american accent and a very punchable face as the girl held out her hand to help you up.

with a glowering scowl sent up at her you smacked her hand away, climbing to your own feet and storming away, hearing her follow after you as the rest of the girls sprinted back into the building to shower and change before media.

but right as you went to step foot into the locker room a hand grabbed yours, tugging you away into one of the recovery rooms as the door closed with a click.

you sighed deeply at the grin which shone back at you, crossing your arms and glaring at her when she refused to move out of the way of the door.

"come on stop the frowning. i said i was sorry!" the american laughed stepping closer as you shook your head. "that doesn't mean i have to accept your apology." you reminded firmly, unwavering as she rolled her eyes.

"no. but only one of us is currently wearing something with a collar and ah...the rain has not been kind to you." emily tutted her hand moving to settle on your shoulder and you hissed as her thumb pressed into a deep red mark on your neck and you smacked it away.

with a groan you moved toward a mirror in the corner, turning your head left and right inspecting the marks you'd covered this morning before leaving, the rain indeed having washed most of the concealer off.

"this is your fault fox!" you advanced toward her as she only smiled, meeting you chest to chest. "yeah. so?" she challenged with a quirk of her eyebrow, your mouth opening and closing trying to find a comeback.

"exactly. you weren't saying anything last night when they appeared!" emily grinned cheekily as you only huffed, shoving her and making a beeline for the door before her hand grabbed yours and twirled you so you wound up chest to chest with her again.

"kind of hard to with your tongue down my throat." you scoffed only widening her beaming grin, her face near split in half as tattooed fingers traced the hickies with a feather light touch.

"let me take you to dinner tonight." now that did catch you off guard, stepping away from her with a frown. ever since she'd signed the american had wedged her way under your skin, the pair of you clashing heads and forever arguing, broken up and told off by your teammates.

though it never translated to the pitch, the two of you working seamlessly together down the right side much to everyones shock given how you seemed to loathe one another in every other sense.

but little did they know it was due to the release you two had figured out helped your contempt for one another, and for weeks now the two of you had been sneaking around one anothers beds, always gone by the morning and never more than that.

so you'd hardly expected these words to come out of her mouth.

"what?" you managed out in shock, emily stepping closer with a nod. "dinner. at a nice restaurant, the two of us. tonight ideally!" the defender explained, sticking by her words.

"but thats not-thats not what we do." you declined with a shake of your head as she shrugged unfazed by the rejection.

"well there has to be some middle ground in this enemies to lovers pipeline, you think you hate me but really you don't even know me. i'd like to change that, to change whatever this is." emily confessed confidently again catching you off guard.

when you didn't reply the girl only grinned, pulling off her spray jacket and handing it to you to put on to cover the marks on your neck.

"great, i'll pick you up at seven then baby. wear something...dry! oh and i want that jacket back, since someone else stole my long sleeve." she winked teasingly, and just like that she was gone.

#woso #woso community #emily fox #emily fox x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

[dazednmatthews]

must be something that you said ~number neighbor m. sturniolo x reader part nine

long awaited meeting <3333 i’m so nervous omfg. i really hope you guys like it and it’s all it was hoped to be. ahhhh okay let’s gooooooo

y/n had spent nearly twenty minutes in front of the mirror by the time matt had pulled up outside. she ran her hands anxiously down her body, adjusting and readjusting the straps of her tank top. she’d reapplied her lip gloss about forty-five different times, changed her hair twice and huffed in frustration a million times over.

but if someone asked her, she would still claim that she didn’t care that she was about to be in the actual presence of matt. the guy she texted on whim when she was bored. the guy she’d been texting for a month now, getting to know him pretty much inside and out. the guy that was doing the same to her.

oh god, she thinks. i’m gonna be sick.

it’s only after the five minute warning from him does she grab her bag and make her way to the door. her stomach is filled with butterflies, and she feels like she’s genuinely tweaking out over the fact that she’s about to be face to face with the same boy that she’s almost positive she’s completely infatuated with she likes.

she can’t find it in her to let matt see through her though, so she locks her door with a new found confidence and trudges down the stairs. when she gets to the parking lot, she’s surprised to see matt outside of his car, leaning on the hood with his feet crossed.

he’s wearing a white and red, three quarter sleeve top, blue jeans and boots on his feet. the chain he usually wears is replaced with a cute necklace with a horse pendant on it. all in all, the outfit makes y/n want to rip her hair out. she feels weird suddenly, like maybe she doesn’t look right or won’t be what he expected- or even worse what he wanted.

it disappears as quick as it came though, when matt looks over to her and says, “thank fucking god. i thought i was gonna have to go door to door to find you and drag you out here.”

it’s just what she needs to release all the awkward tension she’d been holding. “i would’ve pretended not to know you so you got arrested for being a creeper.”

he shakes his head, eyes bright and hair falling into his eyes, “you’re just as annoying in person. damn.”

“and you’re shorter than i thought you’d be.”

matt glares at her a little. “oh fuck off.” he does a double take slightly, running his eyes down her body. “you look good. really good.”

she doesn’t know what to do, so she just shoves his shoulder. “shut up.”

she’s standing maybe ten feet in front of him still, not moving. “c’mere,” he says, gesturing her closer. “don’t act all shy now. you were in my messages talking about road head ten minutes ago.”

he pulls her in for a hug before she can even think to be embarrassed. seeing matt feels crazy. being in front of his face, no screen to separate them, feels insane. but touching matt? her face in his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist, fingers grazing the skin in between her top and her pants, made her feel absolutely deranged.

he smells so good she kind of hates him for it, and the way he’s holding on to her kind of makes her want to kiss him. it’s enough for her to pull back and look up at him through her lashes. “hi.”

it’s soft, completely out of character for their dynamic and sickly sweet. not the kind of sweet she is when she’s trying to get under his skin, but the kind of sweet that comes when you’re completely comfortable around someone. y/n can’t explain it, but for some reason, she feels the world fall away.

matt looks down at her with a boyish grin. “hi.” his voice is making her stomach do flips and tricks; so raspy and low. she really might kiss him now.

he holds her for a little longer before he pulls away, guiding her to the passenger door. “alright, let’s go.” he says, opening the door and leaning against it with a wide grin. “no time to waste. i’ve got plans for you.”

something weird blooms in her chest. it’s different than any feeling matt has ever given her. it’s scary as hell, so she forces herself to shake away the feeling. she shakes her head in amusement at the excitement that matt never shows lighting up his entire body.

in that moment, she’s sure she would’ve followed him damn near anywhere.

-

“what about this one?” y/n says, turning to matt who lingered closely behind her. he gives her a flat look at the ‘i heart dilfs’ poster she holds up.

“why the fuck would i put that in my room?”

she shrugs, “why not?”

he ignores her, going around to the shelf full of rolling trays next to her. she takes a moment to quietly admire him, eyes taking in every inch of his body. the way he stands with his body facing forward but still turned in her direction, the way his eyes dart from tray to tray with peaked interest and then way he chuckles softly when he reads something funny. it’s making her head spin, being close enough to touch him. he had felt like such a far away concept behind her phone screen and now, her brain is having trouble grasping that he’s right there.

maybe that’s why she finds herself drawn to him. finding little ways to touch him even if it’s not necessary. like now, she leans over his arm, pointing at a lava lamp. “that would be cute in your room.”

matt looks like he’s immediately about to protest, not even because he’s registered what she said but because, well that’s what they do. he doesn’t though, eyes shifting to the box. he considers it, before grabbing it. it’s purple and pink with tiny specks of orange, and he agrees despite himself.

“yeah, i think i’ll get it.”

y/n is pleased with herself then, standing back upright when he moves to the registers. when he gets to the cashier, she stands off to the side admiring a spinning wheel of keychains. matt can’t be more than ten feet from her, and she thinks it’s obvious that they were here together with the way they’ve been attached at the hip since they stepped in the store, but by the way a pretty redhead stops him on his way back to her, maybe it wasn’t.

“hi,” she says, stepping into his way. “i like your outfit.” y/n is doing everything she can to ignore the interaction in front of her, staring hard at a particularly ugly cartoon lanyard.

“thank you.” matt says. his voice is monotone and she tries not to smile at it.

“i was wondering if i could get your number?” any trace of happiness is wiped from her body. “sorry if that’s forward. i just saw you from over there and think you’re really cute.”

the girl is pretty, big auburn ringlets framing her face perfectly. from the quick glance at her, y/n sees wide, bright green eyes and long pretty lashes. give me a fucking break, she thinks bitterly, rolling her eyes.

“oh,” matt doesn’t seem surprised, but y/n can’t decipher his tone. she knows she has no right to feel any kind of way about it. she knows matt’s not her boyfriend, not anything but her friend, who she had literally just met today, but fuck it if she can control the green monster tearing through her chest. “thanks, but no. i’m here with someone.”

she wishes it didn’t make her as elated as it did. wish the warmth radiating in her fingertips and cheeks didn’t slam into her full force. but it did. it really fucking did.

she tried to control the silly grin on her face, turning her head and pressing it into her shoulder slightly. when the girl apologizes and walks away, matt is back at her side and it takes all she has not to touch him.

“sorry that took so long,” he says. “cashier yapped about a sale for forever.”

“mhm,” she says, trying and somewhat failing to push her feelings down. “whatever.”

matt slings an arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the door. “let’s go somewhere else. i hate malls and i’m fucking starving.”

-

after they get food, burgers and fries from a small place in a plaza somewhere, matt and y/n are walking through a park, exchanging stories of their siblings. y/n tells matt that the fact that he’s a triplet is something she thinks about daily, because it’s so fucking weird. matt tells her she’s an idiot and that he literally doesn’t know life any other way.

they reach a bench over looking water and decide to sit. there’s no one around, except for a stray jogger every couple minutes. y/n turns her body towards matt, surprised to see that he’s already looking at her.

“what?” she says, giving him a weird look. there’s a slight smirk on the corner of his lips, and his baby blues are looking at her like he can see through her completely.

“nothing. just wondering how long we’re gonna keep doing this.”

y/n is taken aback by that. “hanging out?” she chuckles. “got somewhere better to be?”

matt rolls his eyes. “not what i meant.” he slides closer to her. “i meant, keep pretending that this thing between us isn’t here.”

his words make her heart stutter. she can feel her eyes widen the tiniest bit. “i can tell you took that “be direct” thing to heart.”

“and i can tell you’re still sticking to the whole ‘deny, deny, deny’ thing.”

theres a soft breeze that filters through the space between them, making matt’s stray hairs go every which way. in instinct, y/n reaches up, fixing it. “i’m not denying anything.” she shrugs, somewhat shyly. “i just want to hear you say it. it’s a nice break from hearing how much i annoy you all the time.”

matt lowers his head, making himself known in her space. there’s a fingertip of length between them, and he slides his left hand carefully up her shoulder, settling it on the side of her neck. y/n can feel her heart hammering in her ribcage, all the feelings she’d spent god knows how long smothering in teasing banter and annoyed remarks bubbling up to the surface. she was kind of enamored with matt and she knew there was no use in denying it any longer.

“you do annoy me,” matt breathes. “so fucking bad.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he says, tightening his hold on her. she feels her bones turn to jelly. “it annoys me how much i like talking to you. it annoys me how much i miss it when you’re not in my phone talking about crazy shit.” his thumb makes its way to right under her bottom lip then, rubbing the skin affectionately. “but what annoys me the most, is how you have no idea how fucking crazy you drive me.”

y/n sees those pesky stars again as matt’s voice drops even lower. “miss you all the time. even now, when you’re right in front of me.”

y/n can’t stand it then. he’s said everything she wanted, everything she needed to hear. she got her confession, got the confirmation that everything she’d been feeling was definitely not one-sided or made up and now all she wanted to do was kiss the boy in front of her. so she does.

she hooks her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him with a gentle urgency, right where she needs him. it’s something that rivals true peace, the way they collide. matt’s hands are gripping her face so firmly, like he can’t stand the thought of her not being close and y/n’s are tangled so tightly in his hair like she never wants to let go.

it’s a month of pent up feelings overflowing and spilling out on to their fingertips. it’s so many things unsaid that have never been clearer than right now.

when the two pull apart, y/n can’t help herself. “damn. if i knew you could kiss like that i would’ve skipped all the getting to know you bullshit. your personality not that great anyways.”

matt stares incredulously, lips puffy and cheeks slightly pink. “only you have the ability to ruin a moment as good as that one.” he hangs his head with a snort. “you’re unfuckingbelievable.”

“you better fucking believe it, motherfucker. you’re stuck with me now.”

matt thinks maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world after all.

a/n: how are we feeling cherrie nation!!!!!! let me know. it’s time to get back to the silly goofy texts now cause i miss them. love u all <3333

TAGS:

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#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo texts #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #Spotify

[vivwritesfics]

Quidditch Thighs

Lando and Max have big ol thighs from Quidditch. Charles and reader show them just how much they love them

Warnings: Smut, foursome, thigh riding

This was requested by @norrisleclercf1 and it's just been sitting here in my drafts for the longest bloody time, i legit can't believe it's taken me this long nat i'm so sorry i've been thinking about this fic daily

She loved to watch her boys playing quidditch. Especially in the summer, where she could sit outside on the grass and watch Lando and Max.

They always trained together. Whether the rest of the Slytherin team were with them or not, they always trained together. Charles, too, joined in, but that was a rarity. They had classes at different times, meaning the time they got to spend together was rare. Rare, but treasured.

She read on the grass as she watched them. It was quiet, with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs still in classes. At the bottom of every page she looked up and watched as they raced each other to the snitch.

From her position on the grass she couldn't see the smiles on their faces as they chased each other. At one point the stitch was long forgotten and they just chased each other .

While she was reading, several of her fellow Ravenclaws came and sat by her. "We get why you sit here now," One of them said, wearing a smirk.

"Huh?" She asked as she looked up, slipping her bookmark between her pages. "What do you mean?"

"Well," another one began as she leaned back, propped up by her palms. "Look at their thighs. I wouldn't mind taking a seat there."

She was incredibly embarrassed as she looked between them. "W-what the hell, guys?" She cried, holding her book to her chest. "You know I'm dating both of them, right? Like, you're literally thirsting over my boyfriends in front of me."

"At least we haven't said anything about Charles," said the third. "Even though he is so hot."

Suddenly she was incredibly uncomfortable. Her grip on her book tightened and she looked at the Quidditch pitch. But even that felt wrong, especially with all of the things the other Ravenclaws had said.

She stop responding to them and they quickly stood up and walked off, clearly bored.

Eventually, Charles came and sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. "Hey, chérie," he said quietly as she leaned against him.

Her response was mumbled. "What's up?" He asked softly, kindly. That's how Charles always was with her. Sweet and kind and so loving.

So, she told him what the other Ravenclaws had said to her, how it made her feel. Charles listened, nodded along and kissed her head again.

"Want me to go, uh, have a word with them?" He offered and she shook her head. No, that would have only made things worse. Charles knew that, but he still offered, making her feel loved. "They are right, though," he said. "They have no right to say it to you about our boyfriends, but they do have really nice thighs. Really sexy thighs."

"Charlie, I know!" She cried, gently hitting his chest. "I know, but they our boyfriends. They can't say that about our boyfriends." The last part was said quietly, muttered as Charles pulled her into his chest.

He laughed and she smacked his shoulder. "Okay, okay. How about we go down to the dungeon and show them just how much we love those thighs?"

She thought about it. They had the password to get in (Max wrote it in the back of Charles's notebook every time it changed, and it would be a welcome surprise for their tired boys.

Slowly, she nodded, but it soon picked up speed. "Yeah, okay. Let do it, let go. Now, c'mon, lets go," she said in quick succession and pulled Charles to his feet.

It wasn't clear whether Max and Lando could see them go. They (being her and Charles) weren't to know that the boys stopped their quidditch practice the moment they saw their partners had gone.

Max and Lando didn't know why they didn't expect it, why they didn't expect to find their partners on their beds in the Slytherin common room. "Shit," Lando hissed as he watched them, tangled together, lips locked. "Did you guys want for us?"

She pulled away from Charles, his leg between her own. "We tried," she whispered and buried her face against Charles's neck.

Lando stripped himself out of his quidditch robes. He climbed onto the bed with them, gently pulling the two of them away, attaching his lips to Charles.

Max gently pulled her over to him. He sat her on his lap and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "You look so pretty," he whispered and kissed her. And, as he kissed her, his hands on her hips, gently moving her on his thigh.

Whines left her lips as Max moved her. He pulled away to kiss down her neck, his grip on her tightening. Where he moved her gently against his thigh, she sped up, gripping his shoulders. "Max," she whispered, eyes shutting as she rested her forehead against his chest.

Suddenly, a hand was holding her own. She raised her head, looked at Charles and Lando toyed with him. "What is it, Schat?" Max whispered against her neck.

She simply whined, and he had barely touched her.

The friction was getting to be too much and too little all at the same time. She let out a cry and tried to pull away from Max's thigh, but he held her there, held her still. "What do you need?" Lando asked as he looked away from Charles.

Breathlessly, she looked at Lando and Charles over Max's shoulder. "Touch me," she squeaked, breathlessly. "Please.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #norlestappen #norlestappen imagine #norlestappen x reader #norlestappen smut #poly!f1 #poly!norlestappen

[youaresimplylovely]

Bondi Beach - OP 81

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐆𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 <3 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝!! 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐘𝐚𝐲𝐲𝐲, 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 300 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 >< 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ^^

After countless races, your boyfriend decided it was time to tour you around his hometown. You've been begging him for the past months and he never seems to budge. Thankfully after all your yapping, he finally agreed. That's why straight after his race, he booked his private jet to fly back home.

One thing you were always grateful for was Oscar's family, they love and accept you which made you the happiest girl out there. His parents were celebrating their anniversary in Greece so you and Oscar had their family house all to yourselves.

Once you and Oscar arrived at the family house, you were sweating crazy. While your boyfriend just laughed at you, saying you weren't used to the heat. "Still gettin' used mate?" He jokes with that accent of his while putting your luggage down at the living room.

You give him a disgusted look, you reach for the ac making sure it was very cold. Sighing as you lay your body on the couch enjoying the coldness.

"Baby, can we please please go to the beach. I desperately need the waters of the sea." You whine, giving your boyfriend puppy eyes.

He chuckles seeing you all sweaty and not used to the heat. "Yeah sure we can, Bondi Beach?" He smiles at you softly, giving you a peck on the cheek.

"God yes!" You exclaim, hurrying to your luggage to find your bikini.

Oscar couldn't help but be amused, he loved having you here in his hometown and he can't wait to show you around.

Hours later you and Oscar arrived at the beach, a long content sigh comes out of your mouth feeling the aura of the vibes. Your boyfriend had his hand on your waist while you guys explore the beach.

Your eyes widened to see topless women, you knew Bondi Beach was a topless beach but not that topless. "A lot of naked women there." You joke, looking around.

Oscar snickers, not even bothering looking at the topless woman but instead finding a spot to lay your beach towel. "Not lookin'." He laughs.

"I never said you were." You combat his statement as you finally found a spot to lay down the beach towel. Oscar sat down, enjoying the warm breeze of the air while you laid down.

Looking around you saw how normal it is for women to be topless, you decide it wouldn't be so bad to take your top off too. Untying the tie of your top from behind as you sigh feeling the cool air on your chest.

Oscar knew the topless beach and that it was normal but seeing his girlfriend topless and all chest out with tons of people, he may have questioned himself for bringing you in Bondi Beach despite the many other beaches out there.

He looks at you and your chest with a hesitating look as he looks around if anyone is staring. You notice his look, you gently cup his cheek with worried eyes. "What's wrong baby?" You ask genuinely, waiting for an answer.

"I can see your boobs." He utters, glaring at you while he still looks around if anyone is looking. He didn't want anyone looking at his girlfriend's chest.

You let out a laugh at his statement. "Baby it's a topless beach." You giggle, sitting up as you wrap your arm around his resting your head on his shoulder.

"Well yeah but I can see your boobs and so can they." He says clearly annoyed, not at you but the men. Like that one guy who has been taring at you for the past minute. "Perv!" Oscar yells the guy, immediately covering your chest.

Oscar mumbles curses, grabbing your top and puts it back on you tying the back while he glares at the men who are staring. "They don't deserve to see this." He mutters, pressing a kiss on your neck.

You smile amusingly, you loved your boyfriend and seeing him all protective like this was so cute. And it does seem like you and him won't be going to Bondi Beach for a while.

TAGLIST

@euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @Inchident-jgp @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore555 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @emmy626 @hiireadstuff @urfavouriteanon @darleneslane @anon555xxx @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyyy @justtprachisblog @alliwantisadonut @kika-writes @casperlikej @funnelcakeee @m-1805 @firebreathingbitch17 @mahaytii @xoscar03 @chiatchi @ashlovestoread1411 @snapeeballsack @silverxxs-world @thearchieves @destinyg237

#Spotify #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 au #f1 blurb #formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine

[idyllic-ghost]

I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)

ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭

warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI

Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.

"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.

The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.

"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.

"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."

You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.

"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"

Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.

"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.

"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.

"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."

It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.

"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.

"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.

In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.

"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."

"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."

"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.

His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.

"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."

Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.

"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.

"I like this more," you counter.

He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.

"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."

His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.

"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.

You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.

"Again?" you ask incredulously.

"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.

"It's late, aren't you tired?"

"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.

#svthub #svt #seventeen #bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* #kpop fanfiction #ask #anon #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop writer #fanfic #svt fluff #svt smut #svt fic #woozi #woozi x reader #svt woozi #seventeen woozi #woozi smut #lee jihoon x reader #jihoon #lee jihoon #lee jihoon smut #jihoon x reader #jihoon scenarios

[solar-wing]

⚣ Dick Grayson: NSFW Alphabet 🔵

⚣🔵 Words → 3.5k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🔵

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Caring and attentive. In other words, cling as hell.

It’s amazing how someone who was just fucking you like an absolute slut could turn into the world’s most innocent and soft boy in existence. When you think about it, it’s actually a little bit disturbing as well.

But, I digress. Dick will absolutely pick you up and carry you into the shower or whatever you desire. He’s also perfectly fine with lying in the mess. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to cuddle you right after.

He will have an overwhelming smug attitude though, especially if the sex was preceded by an argument, disagreement, or the acrobat just wanted to teach you a lesson. He can be a little shit when he wants to be.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like we all know the answer to this one.

Dick’s butt is praised so much, that you already know he puts extra time and care into making sure it stays nice, right, and tight. He not so secretly loves when you play with it as well, whether it’s a light slap or pressing up against him even though he’s always the top. Notable mentions: His chest, abs, and thighs.

If you assumed his favorite body part on you was your ass, you’d guess right. Congratulations! You win nothing except a hard and playful smack on said ass from the acrobat. You’re welcome! Honorable mentions: Your waist, thighs, and chest. His weakness is any kind of jiggle and he is not ashamed or afraid of getting caught staring.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He may not play basketball but he’s a shooter (kill me). He can pretty much cover you anywhere or reach your furthest depths inside (careful if it’s M-Preg or he’ll definitely be the father).

He’s equal with where he likes to cum. He likes to sum on your face, chest, and body just as much as he loves to shoot down your throat and inside your hole. And the filthy little acrobat will definitely lick your cum off his hand after stroking you to your own finish. Let’s be clear now, this man has no shame.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dick’s got a body count. Not as high as Bruce’s maybe but it’s up there. He can play innocent all he wants, but that man can and will get down when he’s feeling it.

Which, speaking of, he has definitely used Nightwing to land him some ass. No, I will not be taking questions.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Again, he doesn’t exactly have the title of a playboy like his adoptive father, but Dick’s been around the block. So he definitely knows a thing or two when it comes to the down and dirty.

Even if you are experienced yourself, I can guarantee Dick knows some tricks you don’t know which will have you, well…let’s save that for the bedroom, shall we?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Face down, ass up, and no that was not a suggestion. Dick absolutely favors any position where your ass is bouncing in his face. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, spooning, standing behind, anything.

He also loves a good 69 moment and enjoys the missionary positions where he can really put in some power while inside you. You on the bed and him standing, countertop, or a stand-carry.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If you know Dick’s personality, while the boy can be an absolute menace in the bedroom, he’s still a goofball at heart. Also, known for his witty banter, you can expect some wild stuff to come out that man’s mouth while he’s cumming to yours (tee hee).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dick is definitely well-groomed. He used to be a performer so he always took extreme care of his appearance. Keeps himself shaven and clean-cut, which definitely makes him appear bigger, as well as keeping those areas down there fresh and ready for any kind of play.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dick is a romantic at heart. As much as he can be a little dominant shit in the bedroom, he’s always down for some soft love and intimate moments.

Candles, roses, food, massages with kisses down your body, maybe a little romantic dance before you get sweaty. You name it, Dick’s already thought of it and is thinking of more. Just as much as he wants to please you sexually, intimacy and romance never is off the table.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dick is probably the most sexually active just behind Bruce, so you can definitely imagine that boy is no stranger to an evening alone with just him and his hand. Just as much as he knows how to please others, he knows how to please himself.

He knows when he’s in the mood to drag it out and edge himself while imagining or watching some slow, soft dirty dancing, and he knows when he’s frustrated and just needs to rub one out to get the edge off a little bit. Again, you won’t find many things in that realm that Dick has not either already tried or even just learned about.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Role-Playing: Once again, I bring up the fact that Dick is a retired performer. You know he’s one for the dramatics and theatrics, especially when it comes to sex. Whether it’s Nightwing coming to the rescue of some helpless dude, or instead that same person being abducted and forced to serve Nightwing to earn his freedom, nothing is off the table. And yes, as I just implied, that included CNC (Consensual-Non-Consensual). He’d never push you too far (unless variable circumstances apply), but he’s down to play any role. He’s the cop and you’re the guilty criminal he’s just arrested. You’re his student and desperately need a passing grade to graduate.

BDSM: He’s not too much into the lifestyle, but he definitely dabbles. He likes certain aspects of it, specifically the bondage, Dom/Sub roles, and getting to inflict punishments (his favorite being spanking cause it means he gets to play with your ass more). This also helps a lot with this abducted, helpless victim role-play when he gets to pull out the cuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags, and whatever else he’s got lying around. And he’s not opposed to the roles being reversed.

Dirty Talk: The guy is all about using his words remember. Self-explanatory.

Public Play (Exhibitionism): Dick’s not a sex addict, but he might as well be one with the way that man will drop his pants without a second thought, no matter where he is. Of course, he’s not just going to outright start doing it in front of others, but the thrill of pulling you into a dark corner, alleyway, restroom and the risk of you getting caught will always get him excited. Double points if you actually do get caught, because again, this man has no shame.

Honorable Mentions: Edge Play (choking/breath play), Impact Play (sub of BDSM, spanking, paddling, etc), Wrestling, Daddy kink, Mirror Sex, etc.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As we just went over, public places really get Dick going. Especially if he’s out as Nightwing and wants to pull you into a random alley or bring you to some high-up rooftop, he will happily christen a surface that is not within the confines of his own house or private dwelling, and he won’t feel bad about it.

Other specific places?

The shower, any counter or table surface, the Batmobile, his motorbike, literally anywhere in his apartment, etc.

He really has no reservations about where he does it, as long as he can get up in you, he’s content.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

#1 – He’s a horny bastard: Again, he’s not a sex addict, but he sure has the sex drive of one. It doesn’t take much to get him turned on. A casual, suggestive sentence, the way your shorts are really highlighting your work in the gym, how you're sucking on the straw while sipping your drink, or even when you’re just standing or sitting doing nothing, that man will get hard and he will pounce on you.

#2 – Domestic Actions/Life: This is something I forgot to mention with Jason so I’ll mention it here because I’m definitely head-canoning that they both share this in common. Any kind of domestic act. You cook him dinner when he comes home or pack his lunch before he heads out for the day. Helping clean up his house or doing his laundry and folding his clothes. Running him a bath, washing his hair, giving him a massage after a hard day or night. Waiting up for him in bed after patrol and patting the space once he changes out of his uniform, laying down and letting him vent about anything on his mind while you rub his body or head. All of it and more will definitely have him up and ready for fun.

#3 – Jealousy: Now, you may think I mean when someone flirts with you and he gets all macho and protective, rah rah rah. Nope, not at all (unless we’re talking Alpha Dick in Omegaverse. Then, that’s different because, by the rule, it’s a part of his biology to be). Dick is actually quite casual and will find it humorous when someone tries to even think about flirting with you in hopes of stealing you away from him. He knows his worth, and even more, he knows how good his dick is. He’s not worried. But, when it’s the opposite, and someone flirts with him because again, this man is literally one of the most attractive beings probably in the entire world, he absolutely will be turned on at the sight of you staking your claim on him, chasing off any hag dared flirt with him in front of you.

Honorable Mentions: Arguing/Make-Up Sex, Clothing, exercising, any kind of physical touch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Nothing that could involve serious injury or blood. Also, nothing even remotely unsanitary. I mean scat/throw-up/piss.

Also, he may be into very public displays of affection but do not get it twisted one bit. Dick is not into any type of sharing. He’s a sweetie at heart, but don’t piss him off with that ridiculous idea.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dick is the goat of throat. Yeah, I said it…what you gon do? Beat my ass or something?

Just kidding, but no seriously, this man has a reputation known among his sexual partners for the danger to society that is his mouth, and not when it’s giving off a witty/sarcastic remark. He’s been known to drive some people to the brink of insanity, metaphorically speaking of course. But, then again, you never know with these people.

He loves to receive head and loves to give it even more. Especially when he gets to play with your balls and deny your orgasm every time you reach the edge, the little bastard. Same can be said if he’s munching on that hole too, which he eagerly does cause the sight of it puckering and winking at him sends all the little happy flutters to his own groin.

Now, if we’re talking again about receiving, and you think you’re gonna have him putty in your hand like he does with you, think again. This man is the definition of a seasoned veteran. There’s only been one known time he’s ever gotten overwhelmed and came from just head, and that was when he was a teenager. If you’re hoping to do that now, you’d better have expert-level skills, cause he will test you. Facefucking, choking and gagging, and whatever else that comes to mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood.

High off adrenaline after an intense patrol or fight? Congratulations, you’re about to be his next victim. You got jealous and cussed out someone for trying to flirt with him? Prepare to learn a whole new meaning of getting rough sex. Wore some 3 in shorts to the gym AND did a leg day? Gon head and bend that ass over, you’re about to experience why he’s called ‘Dick’ rather than ‘Rich’ or something else for a nickname. Please cancel any plans you have for that evening or the next day cause you may not be able to walk, stand, or even move for that manner.

On the opposite side, did you take his Nightwing suit and hand wash it, making it look like the day he first put it on? Sweet lord, you’re a treasure and he’s about to show you why. It’s your anniversary and you got him one of the most beautiful and sentimental gifts? You and your body are about to be treated like an award that he is the sole recipient of. You cussed out Bruce after he did something stupid and reckless again involving Dick or one of the others? Not only is Jason blessing the ground you walk on, Dick’s about to drop down on one knee and propose, and then proceed to treat your body like a slut in the most romantic and sensual way you could ever imagine. As a precaution, still, go ahead and cancel any future plans just in case.

Dick truly has no preference other than whatever he’s feeling at the moment. Long, deep strokes, or quick, fast juts? Whatever gets the job done and reminds you there’s nobody better than him is good in his book.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dick loves quickies. As chaotic and busy as his life is, he practically lives off them and craves them.

Again, this man should have his headshot in the dictionary next to ‘horny’ or promiscuous. Cause if it was up to him? He’d be screwing you once every 2 hours at least. Whether it’s a quick handjob he’s giving you, or he’s got both your pants down while rapidly fucking into you cause he’s only got five minutes before he has to get back, he’s doing it.

The man thinks they should be protected and enshrined into law. That’s how much he loves them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll try anything and everything under the sun and moon as long as it’s not one of his already-mentioned no-no’s. If it adds excitement to the routine, why not? You never know with that man.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Very adamant stamina. His plentiful experiences have shaped it, and his physical training and endurance have added to it.

That man can do multiple rounds in a night, ranging anywhere from 3-5, and maybe even more if just that kind of night. He also knows his body, and can/will do what he needs to do to drag one round out for as long as he can until not only is he satisfied himself, but he feels he’s adequately satisfied you. And to be clear, you have absolutely no say on whether he feels like he’s satisfied you or not.

So please, get used to the idea of being overstimulated and crying at the 3rd or 4th orgasm he gives you before he’s even had one. It’ll save you a lot of frustration (not really but you get what I mean).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dick, who again, will and has tried everything under the moon and sun. Of course, he has toys. What do you think this is? A playground? Please…

And trust, he’s going to get more. He’s probably signed up on a loyalty program with a sex store or website, and best believe he’s got diamond status.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A prayer for the innocent soul who unknowingly awakens the playful, petty, and vindictive part of Dick Grayson’s personality, especially when it comes to sex. May god, the universe, karma, whatever else have mercy on your soul and may the odds ever be in your favor.

There’s a reason I call Dick Grayson a little shit, bastard, fucker, and other various names because that is literally what he is, and I love him the more for it. He doesn’t get angry, upset, or even mad (unless it’s something serious). No, he gets petty, and that turns into him being the most teasing piece of shit in the bedroom, especially if you’ve challenged him in some kind of way.

Orgasm denial, forcing you to be quiet and stay still, sensory overload, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation; all this and he hasn’t even put his tongue on you yet, let alone his dick anywhere near you. That man is vindictive and will play on it until his heart’s content. Please, tread carefully when choosing whether or not you want to fuck with this man, especially if he’s in a mood.

Matter of fact, just run. Actually, don’t do that either. He likes the chase. FUCK! You’re screwed no matter what (metaphorically AND literally).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dick gets loud. And he wants you to get equally as loud with him.

He’s not afraid to let out the sluttiest sounds, from soft and quiet moans to loud and debauched shouts from the top of his lungs. He can be quiet if need be, but he’d rather not. He enjoys the idea of people knowing he’s getting lucky and, even more, the idea of people knowing you’re getting lucky from him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

That man has an obsession with doing it in his Nightwing suit. You think he picked that style and aesthetic for something as useless as flexibility, quick movement, and durability? Absolutely not. 

Dick absolutely knew what he was doing when he had his suit designed. He wanted to look like a slut and nothing more, and that's okay! I mean, come on, you think his ass looking that good in his uniform was a coincidence? A mistake? How innocent and naive of you.

Everyone should have known Dick’s true intentions when they saw how sinfully deep the cut was in his first suit that we all know and love as Discowing. That man fully intended for his suit to be something he could fuck up and fuck dudes in while looking hot. It was non-negotiable.

Look at him.

Like, I'm sorry, but what the hell do you mean I’m not supposed to be turned on and have my legs divorcing like a whore who's being prosecuted in a court of law due to adulterous behavior with this standing in front of me? Are you unwell?!?!?

Yeah, respectfully no. I will forever headcanon that Dick Grayson knew exactly what he was doing when he had his suits designed, and it was the complete opposite of what everyone was saying.

“Dick is quick and agile."

"He’s lightweight on his feet."

"He needs a suit that will support and accentuate his acrobatic skills.”

Absolutely not. That man is (respectfully in an empowering context) a slut, on the inside and out, and he wanted a suit that would best show it to the world. I will not be gaslit into believing otherwise.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

What Dick lacks in girth, he makes up for in length and skill. He’s definitely not thin, but he's a little under-average when it comes to thickness. Somewhere between 6-7 inches.

More than likely cut, and has a voluptuous head that’s perfect for sucking on and teasing.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

We’ve discussed this in great length, multiple times. It’s self-explanatory at this point. The man is basically the human equivalent of a rabbit or bunny.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dick can stay up long after the round has been up, especially if he’s in a mood where he wants to talk. Ironically, after fucking like some wild animals with the most questionable mindsets and morals, he loves to shoot the shit and have pillow talk after.

I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Dick is basically a chatterbox and will ask you about your day, what you had for lunch, who pissed you off at work, and more while still buried inside of your ass with your dick pressed between both your stomachs. He’s also content with turning on the TV or whatever screen is available and watching a movie or something until you both fall asleep. Mind you, he’s probably still inside you and is going to try his best to stay inside even if he’s gone soft and keeps slipping out.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #male reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader #nightwing fic #m!reader #☀️🪽.hcs #☀️🪽.dcposts

[misc-obeyme]

cc. your tags on the boudoir post. MAMMON recieving an album of those photos. i'd love to hear your thoughts on his reaction (and everyone else's, if you're feeling particularly inspired?)

Ah, Daisy, my dear, thank you for asking!

I apologize for this late response, but I knew I was gonna be getting wordy with this one. Because I looove the boudoir photos idea in general and OH MAN just thinking about all their reactions is making me crazy lol. I was going to just do my regular sort of response, but this turned into full on headcanons oops.

So just in case anyone missed it, here is the original post!

My thoughts change a little bit depending on whether MC is present when the characters receive the pictures, so I included both! I only did the bros but I might be willing to do the rest upon request!

the brothers react to MC giving them an album of boudoir photos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: suggestive but that's about it, nothing explicit

Lucifer

When you're with him, Lucifer is calm and courteous, but with a flare of arrogance. Of course you would give him such a special gift. It's only natural that you would trust such intimacies to him.

He asks you if you're trying to tell him something. Has he perhaps been neglecting you, MC? Did you give him this so that he wouldn't be able to help himself? He's onto you.

No matter your reason, he can't look through too many of the pictures before wanting the real thing that's sitting right next to him. Tell him you still have some of that lingerie in your possession. Especially if you happen to have some in his colors.

If you aren't with him, he's going to be a lot less arrogant in general. He will find you later, make no mistake. But he's honestly so touched by your gift that he spends a lot of time looking through the album, simply admiring you.

Mammon

Mammon is freaking out no matter where you are the time. If you're with him, it's definitely a lot worse. Blushing profusely. Opens the album then slams it shut because he can't handle looking at it for very long.

You can't help but giggle at his reaction and then it's all stop laughin' at him MC!! You'll need to take his hands or maybe kiss his cheek, let him know that you genuinely just wanted to give him a nice gift, you aren't trying to tease him or anything.

Ask him if he likes it. You'll get a serious response. Calms down enough to say 'course he likes it. Likes it so much, he suddenly can't keep his hands off you.

If you aren't with him at the time, he buries it under his pillow or otherwise hides it because this is now one of his treasures and nobody gets to see it but him!

Leviathan

Levi is another one who'd be a blushing mess no matter what, but if you're there at the time, he might retreat to his room and not let you in. He needs that barrier between you because if he sees you right now, his heart will explode.

He'll let you back in eventually, but it might be a minute. He needs to calm down. Are you trying to kill him, MC?! Even when he does let you in, he can't look at you directly. He's probably covering his face with his hands.

Reassure him that you gave these photos to him because you trust him with them. They're personal, intimate, and you want him to be close to you. He's going to calm down the more you talk to him. Pull his hands away from his face and when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, it flips a switch. Might even slip into demon form just to wrap his tail around you possessively.

If you're not with him at the time, he's going to need to take care of that raging boner of his right away. He won't be able to focus on anything else until he does. He's so embarrassed, he has to watch several episodes of Ruri Hana to recalibrate.

Satan

He will try to keep his expression unreadable. He's not having any over the top reactions, but as he flips through the photos, he keeps getting redder and redder. You're sitting right next to him, how can he not react? At some point, he has to close the album because he feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't.

Satan is quiet about how flustered he is, but he's having a hard time looking at you. He tries to say something and incomprehensible lines about how beautiful you are fall from his lips. He sounds like a broken record of spoken word poetry or perhaps a very drunk beat poet.

Recovers himself after a minute. As soon as he's composed, you're in his arms. You knew what this would do to him, didn't you, MC? You'll find yourself pressed up against the nearest wall in moments.

If you're not with him, Satan will tuck your album into a stack of his other books. He thinks it's well hidden there - in plain sight. But he's hyper aware of it. Keeps coming back to look at it. Ends up having to put it on the bottom of a stack behind a different stack to make it more difficult to get to.

Asmodeus

Thrilled. Absolutely thrilled in every way. Oh, wow, MC, you look amazing. He's breathless. He's entranced. He's even blushing because he knows what it means that you've given these to him. He's so in love with you, he can't stand it.

Asks you about everything you may be wearing. Comments on the skill of the photographer. Tells you that next time, you should do one together. He has so many ideas. He wants to do one where all you're wearing is jewelry - bright and sparkling, just like your soul.

Covers you in kisses. He's not shy about how this is making him feel, how much he wants you. He just wants to see your beautiful figure here and now in real life, MC! Won't you let him worship you?

If you're not with him, he will find you immediately so he can say all of the things he needs to say in that moment. You can't leave him alone with all these feelings, both physical and emotional. He brings them all to you without hesitating.

Beelzebub

It might take him a minute to understand exactly what he's looking at, mostly because he's never even heard of this. He doesn't know what a boudoir photo shoot is, so you might have to explain it to him. Once he understands, he starts lightly blushing as he looks through them. His expression is serious because he's beginning to see just how special this is.

Honestly surprised that you would give him something so intimate. He's touched. He's going to hug it to himself and look at you with tears in his eyes because he can't believe how lucky he is.

Give him another couple minutes to look through them and then he's having different feelings. He's not sure if he can hold back, MC. Tell him it's okay, that you don't want him to, and you'll find yourself on your back on his bed in zero seconds flat. You're quickly reminded why he's the Avatar of Gluttony.

If you're not with him at the time, he will figure things out on his own, though he'll have a plethora of questions for you later. He keeps it close to him at all times until you answer them because he knows one thing for sure - he doesn't want anyone else seeing these.

Belphegor

Oh, he sees what you're playing at. Trying to fluster him, are you, MC? Trying to rile him up? Are you sure you can handle him when you do that? He's so wound up by the gift he can't act normal about it. He's actually very touched by it, but he's not sure how to deal with the feelings, so he comes on too strong.

You laugh because to you, this is expected. You understand that this is Belphie's way of dealing with his own shyness. You respond by meeting him with just as much intensity. It's all kisses and touching and fumbling in the dark.

It's only later, when both of you are calm, when you're nestled in his arms, that he admits to you how much it means to him. That he tells you how he'll cherish the album you gave him. That he says he's stunned by how gorgeous you are, even more brilliant that the stars in the sky.

If you aren't with him at the time, you'll be dealing with a petulant but horny demon later on. He's going to be annoyed at you for leaving it for him and then not being there when it inevitably turns him on. Just as possessive as his brothers, he hides it in the attic where no one is likely to find it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#I'm so mad they removed yellow from the Tumblr font color options #now I gotta go into the HTML and do Mammon's manually myself #anyway I love this prompt #and I was inspired to do the brothers #I haven't done headcanons in a while so this was fun #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #misc naughty times #oopsiedaisymae #cc mutuals #misc writes

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 8

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt 7 (SMUT)

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader enjoy SuperDuperMart.

TW: Mentions of bad parenting and emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut.

The next couple of days felt like pure bliss. We spent our time exploring SuperDuperMart, finding endless supplies. I even finally was able to change my clothes into something cleaner. It was surprising that the place was not more ransacked than it was. Maybe it was the location that protected it. Eventually, I had Cooper move the bodies away from the couch and into a different room. During the act, I was too distracted to mind, but the idea of having sex next to them bothered me. The flickering lights and the decrepit couch started to feel like home, someplace we could stay forever. The large supply of Jet would have him set for a long time so he no longer needed to worry about making money to survive. 

More often than not, we ended the days wrapped up in each other, naked on the couch. Bit by bit, Cooper started to open up to me more. Telling me bits and pieces about his ex-wife and daughter. He would never admit it but it hurt him to talk about it so he didn't say much, but was grateful for anything he was willing to give me. I told him more about my home. My father and brothers who kept me locked away in the house, constantly cooking and cleaning. The romance books that I hid under my bed so my father wouldn't take them away. How desperately I wanted to escape but was too afraid to for so long.

"Someday, I'm going to pay that man a visit." He hissed; the venom clear in his voice. 

While I was grateful that he wanted to avenge me, I was happy with the idea of never going back there again. Not even for revenge. They didn't deserve to know I was alive and happy. Not that they would care.

On this particular day, we ended the night like we always did, naked on the couch with me sprawled out on top of him, a light blanket covering the bottom half of my body. It was becoming my happy place, and he seemed to enjoy it just as much. 

"We've become domesticated," I mumbled into his chest, causing him to laugh.

"I will NEVER be domesticated, darlin'. I'm just takin' a break is all." He responded; determination clear in his voice. 

Honestly? I didn't mind the idea of leaving this place eventually. I would follow that man anywhere. "I'm excited for our next adventure then."

-

I woke up groggy and confused as I heard footsteps coming closer. Cooper groaned as he pulled the blanket farther up my body, shielding me from wandering eyes. 

"Why hello there boys. Now ya'll here for the ice cream social, I'm afraid I got some bad news." He said, converting back into his old, cocky self.

One of the men crouched in front of the couch, looking between us, a look of disgust clear on his face. I squeaked from the embarrassment as I clutched at the blanket.

"That is absolutely disgusting," He murmured at the sight of us before looking over at the robot that had been stuttering for days. "Take it's fusion core." He nodded to the other men. 

I was practically buzzing from the fear coursing through my body. Cooper could feel it, so he snaked his arm around me protectively.

"Now," The man started again. "Destroying a legitimate business? That's illegal around these parts." He said, a cocky tone in his voice. 

"Says who?" Cooper asked, anger clear in his voice. 

"The government." The man responds menacingly before one of the others hit Cooper in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. We were so focused on the man in front of us that we didn't notice the one sneaking around the back of the couch.

"Cooper!" I squealed as one of the men grabbed my arm and wrenched me off of him causing the blanket to fall to the ground. "Well looky here." The man slurred as I tried my best to cover myself. "How did a ghoul get so lucky? You some sorta pervert?" 

"Let go of me!" I cried out, looking back to Cooper. He started to stir, slowly waking up from the temporary loss of consciousness. In response, the men pointed their guns at him. "No, please!" I pleaded. 

"Don't worry miss we ain't gonna shoot him." He explained, "As long as he doesn't fight, that is. Now get dressed." He said throwing me to the ground on top of our clothes pile. With shaky hands I did as I was told, grateful that they didn't have other plans for me. 

By the time I was dressed Cooper's eyes were open. He was seething, baring his teeth to the man in front of him. The man responded by grabbing my arm and spinning me around, so my back was against his chest as he cocked a gun against my forehead. "Your turn ghoul. Get dressed."

A retort died on the tip of Cooper's tongue as he saw the tears running down my face. He let out an angry grunt before quickly throwing his clothes back on. Before he could say a word, the man who hit him took a rope and tied it around his wrists. "You are coming with us." The man growled.

The man holding me didn't bother tying me up, instead opting to keep a tight hold on my bicep. It didn't take long to start hurting. I was definitely going to have a bruise. His companion walked next to Cooper, gun in hand ready to shoot him at a moment's notice. The walk was quiet, tension was thick in the air. We didn't know where they were taking us. "At least they seem to need us alive for now." I thought to myself, glancing back at Cooper.

"Eyes forward." The man hissed at me, shaking me slightly.

I did as I was told, not wanting to push my luck. After a couple of hours of walking, we found ourselves heading inside a neglected building. The inside was decorated like it was out of one of the movies Cooper had me watch at SuperDuperMart. The man holding Cooper pushed him through some swinging doors. 

"Well, shit." A man says as soon as Cooper enters the room.

Why, Sorrel Booker." He chuckled.

Hope swelled in my chest at the idea that they knew each other. That maybe we'd be lucky enough that he would let us go. Sorrel Booker was a bigger man, he was sitting comfortably at a table with a large piece of meat in front of him. We were obviously interrupting his meal. The two men threw us down into chairs at the table. 

"I heard it was a ghoul that fucked up that SuperDuperMart." Booker mused, "Nobody told me it was THE ghoul." He said before picking up his knife. "You know who you boys brought in?" He asked the two men behind us. "This sumbitch right here used to be the best bounty hunter to ever shoot a man in the ass. Kids these days don't know their goddamn history."

I looked down into my lap and fiddled with my hands. This man was so hard to read. I couldn't tell if he was friends with Cooper or not. When I looked back up Booker's eyes were on me.

"Who's your friend?" He asked Cooper.

Before Cooper could respond, one of the men piped up, "We found these two naked. Can ya believe it?" He said, a tone of revulsion in his voice. "Disgusting."

"Her name is Y/n." Cooper said, throwing a dirty look at the man behind him, "And she didn't do shit.”

"She's with ya. How innocent can she be?" Booker asked.

There was a moment of silence before Cooper asked, "Say you got a needle and thread?"

One of the men behind us scoffed, "Sorry, we don't do a lot of knittin' around here."

"It's called sewing," Cooper responded, unamused. "I think I got some in my bag."

Booker nodded toward one of his men who immediately complied with the order, pulling out a rag. I shot him a curious glance as the man unfolded the rag on the table, everyone giving Cooper a disgusted look as his finger rolled out. Cooper held up his wrists expectantly, silently asking to be unbound.

"Now come on now, Sorrel, we are old friends, ain't we?" Cooper said as he stared him down.

Booker took a moment before relenting, cutting Cooper loose. "Look at you. 200 years." My eyes opened wide in surprise, during our talks Cooper never mentioned he was 200 years old. "I don't know what keeps you goin'. Maybe you like the feelin' of that good old Californian sunshine on your wrinkly ass face. Or maybe this one isn't the first girl you've found willin' to fuck a ghoul." He finished.

Cooper glanced over at me as he started sewing his finger back on his hand before saying, "Nah, she's one of a kind."

"How sweet." The man behind me said sarcastically. 

"Or maybe," Booker continued. "You're still lookin' for her."

I stiffened at his statement. Was there someone else?

"Well Sorrel, I can confidently cross one reason off that list for ya. I sure as hell ain't still alive so I can have unintelligent conversations with dipshits like yourself." Cooper responded. Booker had obviously hit a nerve. 

One of the men immediately responded by hitting Cooper in the head again with his gun. "Watch your mouth. That's the president of the government you're talkin' to." He sneered.

Cooper slowly leaned back into his chair. He looked calm, but I could see the anger still simmering inside of him. "Ah. You a president now?" He asked Sorrel.

"Don't see why not," Sorrel responded confidently, taking another bite of his food.

"Well, you might want to hire a publicist because this is the first I'm hearin' about this outfit. Now, what I am hearin' is a whole lot of chatter about some woman. Name of Moldaver." Cooper replied.

"They call her the flame mother. Now that bitch is dangerous." Sorrel said with a serious look on his face. 

"Well, when it comes to leadership these days, dangerous is what they call a prerequisite," Cooper said smirking.

"Somebody's gotta step up and bring some order around here. You know why these boys brought you in?" Booker asked, puffing out his chest. 

"Cause I fucked up a poor, defenseless, gang-affiliated organ dealership?" Cooper mumbled, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Yup," Sorrel said with conviction. "Now I've always liked you-"

"Well, I've always liked you," Cooper interrupted with a smile on his face.

"Well, ain't that sweet. But that SuperDuperMart you two gutted was under our protection. So, if I wanted to let you go scot-free, folks might lose faith about what we are trying to do here. And then what?" Booker explained.

"Anarchy in the streets," Cooper answered.

"Exactly, so you got anything to say in your defense?" Sorrel asked.

"Guilty as charged." The ghoul responded confidently. I gave him a look of disbelief as he happily wiggled his finger. 

"Just like that?" Sorrel asked, surprised. 

"Just. Like. That." He smiled. "Now if you need any more evidence, I can tell you about this town I just shot up, Filly." 

"Cooper." I hissed angrily. Finally breaking my silence. 

He smiled at me, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, I must have killed nine or ten people." He continued, "She didn't do shit." He repeated. 

"My daddy lives in Filly." One of the men states, concern in his voice. 

"Well, not no more he don't. Unless he's a coward." Cooper said.

"Don't take the bait, son." Sorrel interrupted as the man cocked his gun at the ghoul.

"Oh, I ain't fishin'. I'm just trying to game this out. Now, in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. Is that true in your case?" Cooper asked.

"My daddy ain't no coward." The man was fuming as his gun stayed pointed at Cooper. 

"Well, then I guess the only question is..." Cooper smirked, "Are you?"

"Sherrif Rex. Take Sherrif Troy's gun away." Sorrel said, clearly unamused at the situation.

"Very presidential of ya." Cooper mused.

"Take him out back and feed him to the hogs," Booker said, done with Cooper's antics.

Sherrif Rex pulled Cooper to his feet, but before I could protest, Cooper headbutted Sherrif Troy before stealing Rex's gun. The next thing I knew both men were dead on the ground as he shot them repeatedly. 

"Goddamn it." Booker sighed.

"You really should teach your men how to treat a lady," Cooper explained. "They weren't very nice, were they darlin'?"

I gave him a small smile, "No Coop, they weren't."

He hummed as he stalked across the room. "I got one question for ya ol' buddy," Cooper said, turning his attention back to Sorrel. "Why... do you have this picture on your wall?" He asked, pulling down one of the wanted posters.

"That's Moldaver." Sorrel responded, a look of confusion on his face, "Why?"

Cooper's face betrayed him as shock washed over his face before he regained his composure. "It's just not how I remember her is all," Cooper mumbled. 

"Yea? Well, how do you remember her?" Sorrel asked.

Cooper stared silently at the poster for a while, lost in thought while Sorrel and I exchanged awkward glances. 

"Cooper?" I asked him, worry settling into my stomach. This seemed to catch his attention as he brought his eyes up to me. 

"Let's go, sugar." He said as he folded the paper before stuffing it in his bag. He reached his hand out to me, silently asking me to take it. 

I quickly grabbed his hand, eager to get out of this place. "What about him?" I ask.

"The president?" He asked, mocking Sorrel, "Leave him."

I held on to Cooper's hand tightly as he confidently strolled out of the building. Who was this woman? And what was she to Cooper?

Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things @iloved1lfs0

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout

[kingkatsuki]

My friend showed me this video from L&DS and now I’m quite insane, delirious, unwell imagining it with old man Bakugou😫

Thinking about retired Pro-Hero Dynamight, who just wants a quiet drink in his local old man pub. Sitting at the bar as he nurses his whiskey, neat.

Any and all chances of peace swiftly snatched from his clutches when a rowdy hen party enters, unable to get into one of the main bars and clubs along the high street. Groaning into his glass when the bride orders a round of shots, definitely readying himself to leave early.

Until you catch his eye— a bright pink “maid of honour” sash wrapped around your frame as you wear a hideous pink tiara on your head, a flushed glow to your cheeks from the liquor already flowing through your veins from long before you found this quaint pub. Giving him a small smile when you notice him staring, and following your friend group to your table.

Bakugou surprises himself when he orders himself another drink, staying in this loud chaos when he’d probably be better off drinking at home. Continuing to observe you from afar. You’re definitely too young for him, too cute and pretty, and definitely not interested in an old man like him— but it doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the view.

Until you pass him on your way back from the bathroom, sliding into the barstool beside him as you twist your body to face him. The same smile on your face as he leans back slightly to meet your gaze, “You lost, sweetheart?”

“Hi to you too,” You laugh, light and airy. It has Bakugou’s heart racing as it seems to flow directly into his bloodstream, “Drinking alone on a Saturday night isn’t fun.”

Bakugou motions to the barman to bring him another whiskey, turning to face you to ask what you want to drink. And it’s cute the way you seem genuinely thankful that he’s buying you a drink, not like most that’ll hit up every man in the bar.

“You can come and join us if you want,” You grin, picking up the drink to cheers against his whiskey glass (a glass that he doesn’t bother to cheers back— just leaves it sat on top of the bar) “No fun drinking alone.”

“Not sure I’ll fit in,” It’s the first smile you manage to get from him the entire night, “And I ain’t a stripper.”

“Well, you could be,” You laugh, “You’re hot.”

And Bakugou feels his cock buck at your admission, a rush of blood surging directly between his thighs as he adjusts himself on top of the stool.

“C‘mon,” You push, “You can’t sit alone all night, that’s so boring.”

“Ya don’t need to worry about me, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, sipping at his drink as he tries to stop the saccharine scent of your perfume invading his senses and causing him to loose all sense of control.

“Okay, how about a game of pool?” You try, “I can’t remember the last time I went to a bar that had one!”

“Play with your friends.” You’re not sure whether it’s a question or a statement as you lean in closer to him, your breasts skimming the side of his arm as you pout your glossy lips.

“They don’t wanna play with me,” And Bakugou has to hide the groan that threatens to spill from his throat at the implication, “And you look like you know how to play.”

“Yeah,” He scoffs, standing up from the stool as you realise just how tall he is, “Do you?”

“I dunno,” You hum, “Maybe you need to remind me.”

There’s a certain way he picks the cue up, his scarred palms wrapping around the length of it as his forearms flex when he chalks the tip that has you rubbing your thighs together. Taking a sip of your drink to hide how you’re blatantly ogling him now, holding it out for you to take when he’s done as he grabs another for himself.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, sweetheart.”

And of course your first shot would be awful— it’s been too long since you last played, you’re far too intoxicated to focus— and you’re not even sure it’s the alcohol.

His large form steps behind you as you feel the slightest hint of pudge in his round chest as his arms encircle you to hold the cue. Pressing your back against his chest as he moves your form on the table, keeping your arms apart and your legs spread until you feel it— unable to conceal the blatant moan that spills from your lips when you feel his semi press against the swell of your ass. And suddenly you don’t give a fuck about pool.

His stubble tickles the side of your face as he whispers “good girl” into your ear, his lips graze the shell of it before he pulls back as though nothing happened. The scent of his sweat mixed with whatever aftershave he’s wearing lingers around you as you use the length of the cue to keep yourself upright, shaking on wobbly heels as you lick your glossed lips.

And you’re certain you won’t survive as you watch him walk around the table to follow the white ball, leaning over the table as he takes aim and pots a red into the corner.

“So what do I get when I win?”

#bakugou thirst #thirst posts #Jo thirsts #idk where I was going with this honestly I’m just INSANE!!!!!

[twigg96]

Within These Walls

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

Era: CDC

Warning: Smut, Lap Dances, Thigh Riding, Clothed Sex, Hand Jobs, Cum Shots, Love Cofessions

18+ only

Summery: In the safety of the CDC you two find enjoyment of each others bodies.

Safety was a illusion at best in this new world. The Quarry which you had spent more than a month had been overrun with walkers. Most of the people you had to know as friends had either died, run off, or went missing.

But here in the sanctity of the CDC building, you felt an overwhelming sense of serenity. Normalcy. There was a roof over your head, central air, plumbing, and shampoo. But most of all there was booze. Enough to get pleasantly tipsy and buzzed. Playfully so. Daryl had started a drinking game with Glenn who had never had a drink in his life.

You had a few with your boyfriend sharing in the whiskey you watched him down it easily, teasing your Korean friend who flushed with the first drink. Where the others went you didn't know. Nor did you care to ask. You were too happy.

You lost count of the amount you had. You knew Daryl hadn't kept score even though he promised to remember for Glenn in the morning. But the two of you stumbled to the room you shared for the night wincing at the sound of Glenn loosing the game directly into the shitter.

"Damn... I had ta piss." Daryl sighed with a chuckle, blinking at you slowly. "I'll be back. I'm goin' ta another room." He murmered hugging the wall for support as he left the room.

Shrugging you couldn't help the giggle that ripped through you. Bubbly from booze you kicked your boots off beside the bed stumbling from one side to the other as you hopped on one foot to pull your foot free. Sliding and kicking your jeans off you kicked them off your legs before you freed your body from your tank top with a resounding sigh.

The room was large with not too much to it. Two twin beds. One you'd share with Daryl, not that either of you were complaining, and the other Glenn would get to himself. A closet held extra clothing of people from the past. Pulling back the door and snooping for too long sent shivers down your spine.

A dresser in the room however held work clothes. Long sleeve button downs for men that were much too large on your slender body you giggled as you slid it over your naked frame. Flailing the sleeves around you smirked finding several ties of various colors and patterns shoved in the drawers.

"Looks like yer havin' fun." Daryl purred from behind you. Turning with a devilish smirk you watched his eyes skate down your body to what little panties peaked from under the work shirt to your plush naked thighs. "Damn girl your gonna be the death of me..." He whispered licking his lips.

With all the confidence of the liquor in your veins, you dared to bend over just enough to let the shirt ride up your thighs a little more before you wiggled your hips teasingly. “Oh. I know.” You giggled. Standing straight once more you strode over to him. A sweet sensual smirk on your lips. Reaching out a hand to his chest you circled him letting your fingers trail across his body as you did. “Your soooo tense.” You murmured. “Let me take care of that.” Turning Daryl at the same time. "Have a seat, sir." You whispered walking him back until his knees hit the edge of the bed.

Pushing him back once more so he fell into a sitting position, you started to dance for him. A dance only you and Daryl could hear the music to. Turning and dipping, he smiled as you swayed for him. "You doin' a little lap dance fer me babe?" He asked blatantly grabbing your ass with both hands. With a little gasp you nodded. "Mhm. Anything for you." You whispered. Daryl's groan went straight to your core. His fingers massaged the sensitive flesh at your hips before he let you go once more. "A'ight girl..." He murmured low and sultry. "Do your worst."

Smiling back at him you lowered yourself down onto his lap. Your arms reaching back to wrap around his neck pulling him tight to you. Spreading your legs wide you straddled him. His growing bulge pressed right to your soaked panties in such a way that sent delightful shivers up and down your spine. Goosebumps coated your skin as you gasped with the first tentative roll of your hips in the dance you had planned for him.

"Thought the dancers weren't supposed ta..." Daryl tensed fending off a moan as you ground down on him once more. "Ta enjoy themselves while they danced..." He whispered his caloused hands grabbing your hips once more. Giggling you laid your head back on his shoulder, kissing his jaw then his cheek. "Yeah... but that's with incentive of money." You cooed swirling your hips around skillfully on his clothed cock, loving the way he twitched and ground back into you. So sensitive from the alcohol. “Mmm. And you know I aint got none of that.” He purred into the shell of your ear his hot breath tickling you in the most delicious ways. “Damn straight. So just take what you get.”

His nails dug into your hips painfully. Each rotation sending a new wave of pleasure down your spine to the very tips of your toes. By the time you began to rut back and forth searching for a clothed release he had both hands securely around your waist panting like a dog in heat. "Fuck... babe." He moaned his head bowed as if in prayer watching you work him with all the admiration and love in the world.

Electricity flowed through your veins and sweat began to bead on your skin. The white shirt you put on for Daryl quickly became transparent at the top of your breasts. Teeth skated down the side of your ear to your neck as Daryl's hands slid from your waist to your thighs with a bruising grip spreading your legs wider allowing you to get a better angle on your pussy for a while. But his soon his selflessness ran dry, stilling you for a moment.

Whining you wiggled in defiance, but as two thick fingers slid past your gusset, moving it to the side your whines turned to closed eyed whimpers. Two calloused fingers rubbed sweet circles into your swollen clit. Bucking your hips to meet him your fingers wound into his short hair pulling at the short stubble on the back of his neck. Drool dripped from your lips and chin to your exposed chest, your eyes closed in bliss. “Bet that feels better than my thigh…” He whispered sucking a hickey onto your collar bone.

But before it could truly get good it stopped. Whining as Daryl pulled his hand away the coil in the pit of your belly that started to build disappearing. "Turn" he ordered, motioning in a circle with his free hand. "Yes, sir." You cooed turning in your boyfriend's lap, reveling in the mess you made of him.

He was hard and pressing against his jeans but mostly you had stained them beyond repair. So much so he was soaked through down his legs looking as if he had pissed himself. Straddling his thighs once more you stared down into his lust blown blue eyes. “Now.” He whispered. “Now we can keep going’.”

Smirking at him you pushed back on his shoulders laying his body back gently against against the sheets. Trailing your fingers down his body you hummed licking your lips. Daring to slip your fingers under his tank you stopped in your ministrations feeling Daryl tense under you. Sitting on your knees you leaned down over him, your hair curtaining you both in a veil of feigned privacy. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave it on.” You whispered, your lips brushing over his.

Daryl hummed under you, relaxing once more under the warmth of your love. Closing his eyes he palmed your hair crashing your lips together. Teeth clattering. Tongues fighting you gapped for breath when you finally pulled away. A long string of spit connecting you both as you sat back up.

Unbuttoning his jeans you giggled at the hiss you earned in reward. The pressure released his red tip sprung to the surface to greet you over the band of his boxers. Taking him into your hand, you freed him of the binds of his jeans and boxers shoving them down just enough. “Awe babe.” You cooed. “All this for mee…?” You hummed swiping your thumb over his red tip beading with pre-cum. Throwing his head back against the bed Daryl hissed through his teeth his hands reaching for you but only finding purchase in the scratchy sheets. “Mmm. Fuck babe.” His eyes squeezed shut, his hips desperately tried to buck up to meet you but the weight of you sitting on his legs kept him from going far.

Taking mercy on him you interlaced your fingers with his lifting your other hand to your mouth. Using your pointer finger and thumb you played with it a moment. Letting it string, catching Daryl’s curious gaze before sucking it up greedily. “Mmm.” You hummed smirking into your fingers as Daryl’s jaw fell slack his dick twitching between your thighs. “Fuck me babe.” He groaned as you released your fingers with a pop and licked a strip down your palm.

“That’s the plan.” You hummed grabbing his dick with your slick hand you began pumping him nice and slow at first. The gasp and groans he made were sinful at best. But you knew somewhere deep down he could make better sounds. He was holding back. Squeezing ever slightly tighter you moved faster using the cum that pooled at the tip to help slick your hand you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. His breath caught in his throat and the hand holding yours squeezed so tight you were certain he would break your fingers. A single high pitched needy desperate whine escaped his throat before he pulled you hard by the hand he held.

Falling flat onto his chest you barely had yourself propped up before he was rutting blindly into you’re exposed pussy. “Need ya.” He whimpered. “Now. No-not gonna last.” He whined once more.

Nodding you kissed his lips your entire body tingling not only from the need you shared with Daryl but the love you shared with him. Reaching between you both you stilled his hips with a touch. Grabbing him once more, he hissed over sensitive. Guiding yourself down onto him you gave him a look. One asking for consent that he gave freely before you placed him against you pushing him into you.

The bliss that over came you at being full of him. It was all you had ever craved while in the Quarry and more. A need while on the road you couldn’t reach with others around. Silent quickies weren’t always enough. Not when you had the whole of a bedroom to your disposal. You felt both hot and full of electricity at once. Tossing your head back with a wonton moan you bounced carelessly on him. His hands found your bruised hips adding more to your collection. Arching his back he rutted desperately into you. The whine was back. High pitched desperate and needy he cried out your name like it was the last day on earth. With every movement he became louder. But so did you. Your cries of pleasure echoed the walls and bounced back into your ears carelessly. His name like a prayer to you as you neared your climax.

“Gonna… where do you want it?” Daryl bit out his sweaty arms slinking around your waist. You couldn’t think. Every thought was of him. This moment. You never wanted it to end. Before they blurred into pudding and you moaned. “D-Don’t care.” You whined clinging to him, nails biting so deep blood pooled under the skin. “Just… Oh God!… Don’t you dare stop!”

Gasping your breath caught in your throat. Your vision blurred and turned white your hips stuttered and then stilled as your body tensed. Head back in ecstasy you felt Daryl pumping into you pleasure so intense like a drug it hurt the coil that built and built inside your core before it bust.

Screams of admiration escaped you as you came. Certain everyone in the damned CDC could hear your scandalous sin you didnt dare stop. Skin slapping skin, nails dragging, teeth biting, the sounds you made became your new favorite song. Ridding your high and your boyfriend you basked in the stars he made you see.

Pulling you tight to his body Daryl stilled his hips jerking wildly. Grunting like a wild animal. “Gonna…” He whined. “Fuck.” He whimpered pulling you off of his cock desperately by your hips, rolling you both to the side. You watched in a hazed bliss as he clambered to his knees beside you taking his cock in his hand move so fast you were sure it would rip from his body. Strings of cum painted you. Or rather the work shirt you ‘borrowed’ staining it in a pattern you realized you rather preferred over plain white. Before Daryl collapsed beside you on the bed.

Catching your breaths as if you had both just outrun hordes of walkers you couldn’t help but smile cuddling close despite your rancid smelling sex you burrowed your head under his kissing his Adam’s apple and sternum. “I love you.” You whispered. Daryl hummed his fingers skating your spine. “Love you too.” He whispered. It was the first time either of you had admitted the fact though both of you knew it was true.

Sleep came easy that night. You wish it came so easy every night after but your luck in the facility would soon run out.

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