#me pointing look at that smile and their nose and cheekbones

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hi!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #fetishization of disability

[impossible-rat-babies]

scrambling about anyway i got this commission from @lyriumsings/ @sovhina a few days ago of Eyrie and I’m still ;--; about how they turned out ;--;

#oc: eyrie kisne #ffxiv #me pointing look at that smile and their nose and cheekbones #the outfit and the details too #the braid and the off colored patches and the streaks too along w the background #the floaty particles are perfect ahhh #the earrings too!!! gosh i love them sm winnie thank you

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X AFAB!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shakes through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I like the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t have run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, like when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always like you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your licks isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly creases up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and crease his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

#across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel 2099 #miguel smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #atsv smut #miguel atsv #atsv #atsv fanfiction #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x afab!reader #spiderman across the verse

[forlix]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #stray kids scenarios #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #stray kids fluff #lee felix #stray kids #skz fluff #k-labels #*writing #*oneshot

[volensnolenss]

Jealous

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Only your charms can melt his heart and remove the influence of jealousy; 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: sfw! fluff, he calls you ‘my love’, ‘sweetheart’, mention of a possible child

“My love, meet me!”

Gojo burst into the warm house with a noise and a bright flame of fun, but he did not receive your usual hug and kiss. He threw off his coat in confusion, listening to the silence and looking for at least someone's presence in it.

“Satoru, we're here.” Your gentle voice came from the living room, and he immediately went to you when he saw your sleeping cat on you. Gojo narrowed his eyes and approached you with a drop of contempt, asking a question with his eyes.

“That is, because of her, I lost everything.”

Approaching the cat, Gojo wrinkled his nose and sneezed, making her jump in fear.

With one hand you gently removed the fluff from his face, with the other you stroked the cat with soothing movements, but suddenly she jumped off and ran into another room.

“She's finally gone.” Gojo sits on the edge of the sofa, swinging one leg over the other, grinning at the cat.

You giggled watching his reaction.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of course I'm jealous. I should be in her place!” Gojo crossed his arms and turned away from you like a stubborn child who has been deprived of a gift.

“Come here.”

“No!”

“Come on.”

“No!”

You gestured at him with your arms and reached out to him, to which he proudly raised his head without turning to you.

Because of his waywardness and character, he behaved like a teenager who doesn't really know anything and understands everything, but at the same time he longed for your touch, your stroking on the head and lily kisses.

“My darling, my best man, let me show you a sign that you are the only one in my heart.”

The only thing Satoru was guided by was your words, the way you skillfully use them.

He turned his head exactly 90 degrees, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I'll think about it.”

Of course, he will not think, he will wait for you to take the initiative first.

“Satoru...” You called him flirtatiously.

You crawled up to him from behind and gently, lightly touching his shoulders with your fingers, brushed his neck with your lips, causing goosebumps all over his body.

“How long are you going to sulk?” You buried your forehead in the back of his head, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

You inhaled the remaining smell of rain and coolness, in which there was a subtle note of something sweet.

“Where have you been, Satoru?”

He was silent, there was a short circuit in his head from all your actions. You didn't see it, but he was smiling broadly, which made his cheekbones ache.

“How can I resent you, sweetheart?”

“Because you're like a child.”

You grunted and he threw you on your back, putting his head on you.

“Better stroke me. Since I'm a child, I want love and attention.”

“And you're a demanding child.”

You chuckled and began to run your palm smoothly down his back, moving to his head, starting to scratch it in a relaxed way, passing your thin fingers through his snow-white and soft hair.

He is always surprised at how you manage to influence him in such a way: as if at the click of a finger he fell and is ready to give himself up to the love that you reward him with.

“If you knew how nice it is to be in your arms after the rain.”

“I've heard that if it rains, it's for something good.”

You cupped Satoru's face in your hands as he propped himself up on his elbows.

He stared suspiciously at your stomach, examining it with a malicious smile. You tilted your head to the side, not understanding his behavior.

“And I heard that if a cat is lying on a girl's stomach, then she will soon have a child.”

You clicked, rolling your eyes and immediately shook your head, considering his answer a joke.

“Satoru, don’t be ridiculous!”

“Hey! Imagine how your mini copy will run around the house.”

“Thank you, I have enough of your mini fluffy copy.” You pointed out to him the cat that was sitting on the carpet, looking at you both with interest.

His brows became furrowed again; he wanted to say something, but you interrupted him, leaving a small kiss on his cheek.

“Okay, I'm at your mercy.”

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n

[astraystayyh]

red lollipop.

f2l. tension and mutual pining under the stars.

a red lollipop.

that is the most recurring vision in felix’s dreams, the scarlet candy swirling around his mind in abstract shapes, draping his sleep-state with saccharine thoughts.

felix realized that he liked you because of one singular red lollipop.

he had known you for as long as his memory allowed him to recall. years of friendship where you had laughed until your stomach ached, but also dried his tears and held his hand until his darkest nights passed. wherever you were, so was he. his one platonic pilar in life.

so, when felix watched you indulge in a red lollipop on a random summer afternoon, he felt distraught, to say the least.

the candy swirled around your tongue absentmindedly, its vivid hue imprinting itself onto your glossy lips. your eyes were cast on the open book before you, and the lollipop seemed to liquefy and drip on felix’s cheeks, for they were blooming with a blush he had never sported before.

felix wanted to kiss you, suddenly, without a previous warning. he imagined pressing his mouth onto yours and letting the sweetness of your being run through his, over and over again, till all he remembered was the chant of your name and the taste of strawberries melting on your mouth.

it is weeks later and you are sucking on another lollipop right now. only this time you are looking up at the sky, stars scattered like gems reflected in your eyes— a mirror crafted solely to capture the beauty surrounding you.

you love stargazing with felix, dragging him with you each time the weather forecast predicts a clear sky. the blanket you laid out feels soft beneath your bodies, but it pales before the softness of your hands as they brush against his own, each time you point out a star that twinkles a bit more than the rest.

he’s awfully quiet tonight, afraid if he opens his mouth then the only words that would spill out would be “you’re so pretty” and “please, please kiss me till i can’t breathe.” so, he chooses silence, his gaze subtly lingering on your form, his eyes fixated on that damned lollipop.

“you know, i think astronauts missed the prettiest constellations,” you muse and he hums, intrigued, tilting his head to look at you.

you prop yourself up on one arm, your hair cascading like a blanket over the contours of his face, its ends brushing against his cheeks akin to soft feathers. you nudge the lollipop to the right side of your cheek, a gentle smile playing on your lips as you gaze down at him.

felix’s gulp is awfully audible in the quietude of the night.

“they missed this one,” you trace with your finger over his freckles, as if they are coffee-stained stars forming constellations of their own. you then follow the trail over the bridge of his nose, your finger lingering just above the slate of his cheekbones, gliding slowly over the freckles beneath his eyelids.

his heart hammers in his throat, pulsates in his knee and stomach— you are bringing each one of his pulse points to life with your touch.

you are flirting with him, right? friends don't gaze at each other like this, with pupils fully dilated and a hand delicately grazing their cheeks as if tending to a fragile china vase.

he’s too far gone in you to back out. he yearns to find out, now.

so, he boldly plucks the lollipop from your mouth, guiding it teasingly over your lips, leaving them coated with the sticky sweetness of red. His breath catches as you tilt your head, a silent dare in your gaze, and the stars above fade into oblivion as he gazes at you – you, whose essence is crafted from moon dust itself.

“can i kiss you?” he whispers quietly.

“i thought you’d never ask,” you smile softly, before leaning down to press your lips on his own. they remain there for a few seconds, unmoving, but felix grows greedy as his hand untangles in your hair, moving you even closer to him.

your lips move in a steady rhythm and felix feels drunk on the softness of your lips, on the way your mouths meet only to part once more, on the dulcet way you bite his lower lip, on your saccharin taste tinted with strawberries and summer fields.

“i… i like you so much it’s driving me insane,” he confesses, chest heaving. “can i be yours? please?”

felix dreams of the lollipop yet again that night, red like the blush that sprouted on his cheeks as you kissed him again before you freed him from his longing, ‘yes,’ you said, ‘i’ve only ever been yours’. red like the blood coursing through his veins carrying your name to the chambers of his heart. red like the marks you left on his neck, collarbones and chest, anywhere your lips could reach, everywhere your love would be felt in.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #felix x reader #felix fluff

[hephaestiions]

“What the fuck is this?”

Potter, in a fit of rage, is quite the sight to behold. Magic sizzles around him, errant curls escape his lazy bun, spectacles sit a touch too crooked on his nose.

Draco sips his tea. “A transfer request.”

“For Merlin’s sake—“ Potter rubs the bridge of his nose, a tell Draco’s learnt to mean he’s confused and scattered, and entirely unwilling to admit it. “I can read, Malfoy. Why?”

“Article 9, Section 3 of the Auror Code of Conduct—“

“No,” Potter cuts him off. “Absolutely not.”

Draco puts his tea down.

“I wouldn’t have thought,” he begins, slow and careful, “that you’d have already forgotten— what we did. Right in this office, in fact.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Potter says. The transfer request is crumpling in his fist.

“Then you also remember it’s against the rules for us to remain partners—“

Potter stalks closer, until he’s towering over Draco’s desk. Draco’s mouth is desert-dry.

“Fuck the rules,” he says. This close, his scar always takes Draco by surprise, stark and ridged and white, cutting across his forehead and the top of his cheekbone. This close, now and every other time, he’s a riot of messy intensity. Draco can’t look away. “Merlin, Draco, when have I given a fuck about the rules? You leave me, I leave the MLE, there’s no point—”

“Potter,” Draco says. He’s weak and has never resisted temptation well. It’s no surprise this is all it takes for him to reach and cup Harry’s jaw, jittery thumb catching on the stubble shadowing his cheek. “Harry, I’m not that special.”

“Tell me you’re doing this because you think you have to,” Harry says, quiet and low. “Tell me you felt like you must, and not because you— because you want to get away from me. If it’s that, then I won’t stand in—“

“Don’t be silly.” It comes out sharp and affectionate, and Harry’s shoulders relax a little. “Nobody—“ he swallows, “—nobody else I’d trust to get my coffee order right, is there?” A flicker of a smile. Draco’s spirit sings. “Or—“ he says, huge and irrevocable and far too honest, “have my back in a fight. Only. It’s only you, isn’t it?”

Harry’s hand comes up, covers Draco’s where it still rests, trembling and uncertain on his cheek. He pulls it away, and for a split second Draco almost panics, until he realises Harry is lacing their fingers together, grip tight.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Harry says. “The— us.” His mouth ghosts over Draco’s knuckles, warm and soft and plaintive. “I wanted it so long, Draco.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Draco acquiesces.

They stare at each other, long, silent moments, breaths heavy.

“I’ll stay,” Draco nods eventually. “Of course I’ll stay, all you had to do was ask, just, say something Potter. Don’t you know that?”

Harry lights up with a grin so broad Draco wants to taste it, dip his tongue into it, merge his mouth with—

But Harry’s stepping back, towards the dustbin in the corner. Draco has a moment of confusion before Harry straightens out the transfer request still bunched in his grip and rips it to pieces. The parchment flutters, confetti-like, to the floor.

“You’re stuck with me,” Harry says, serious and determined, even though the smile hasn’t quite left his mouth. “Right here.”

“Where else—“ Draco clears his throat when the words come out raspy and tangled, “Harry. Where else would I possibly want to be?”

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “pieces”. dipping my toes back in here after years and i could not stop thinking about messy auror partners!

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #draco malfoy #harry potter #hpdm #hpdm fanfic #drarry fic rec #drarry fic #auror partners #workplace shenanigans #geets tries to get back into writing

[moonstruckme]

Steve x black cat! reader pls. I feel this paring is always necessary 😌

Thanks for requesting!

Steve Harrington x black cat!reader ♡ 625 words

You glower at your boyfriend through the dark lens of your sunglasses. “Don’t come near me with that.” 

Steve smiles cajolingly, approaching with the sunscreen nonetheless. “C’mon, babe, you didn’t come out here just to sit under this umbrella all day.” 

“You know I did.” You dart your stare pointedly to where the pale rocks are growing little puddles of lake water underneath his feet. “If you come over here and drip on my book—” 

“Put the book away,” he coaxes. And he’s convincing, all shiny skin and even shinier smile and his pretty hair stuck damply to his forehead and the back of his neck. One tiny strand curls inward over the curve of his cheekbone, and you want terribly to slick it back in with the others but any affectionate gesture right now would feel too close to giving in. “Lemme put some sunscreen on you so you can come swim with the rest of us.” 

“I’m fine here.” 

“It’s really nice out there.” Steve sits down next to you like a mirror image, his hands by your feet and his feet next to your butt. “The lake’s not too cold or anything, you might like it.” 

You suck your teeth. “I’m just trying to enjoy my book, Steve.” 

He angles his head. “What, you don’t want to spend time with me?” 

You angle your head right back, deadpan. “Don’t.” 

“You know, Max really loves you,” he says, squirting a dollop of sunscreen into his hand and starting to smooth it up your calf. You wrinkle your nose at the smell. “She thinks you’re the coolest. Beats me why, but it’d probably make her week if you went out there.” You’re quiet, and he goes on, encouraged. He works the sunscreen over your knee, hands chaste and purposeful as they run the length of your thigh. “Plus, you know, you can read your book anytime, but these warm days are only gonna last so long before it’s freezing and snowy outside again.” 

“I like when it’s freezing and snowy,” you say, setting your book down on top of your bag before one of you gets sunscreen on it.

“I know, but you won’t be getting the gun show when I’m all hidden under ten layers, y’know?” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, and you look away from him, biting down on your smile. You feel more than see your boyfriend’s answering grin, spreading like a blight over his pretty face. He starts on your other leg. 

“And if you come hang out, I’ve got an ice cream sandwich in the cooler with your name on it.” He brushes his thumb over the side of your knee sweetly. “Been saving it for you.” 

You soften. A bit. “You could bring it to me here,” you point out. 

Steve shakes his head, frowning as if he really doesn’t know who’s making these rules and wishes he could change them for you. “Can’t, sorry. Frozen treats are only for those of us out there braving the sun.” 

You cross your arms. “You make it sound so pleasant.” 

He takes one of your arms in his hands, disentangling your defensive stance to continue slathering you in sunscreen. “It’s really not bad,” he says. “Between the ice cream and the cool water, you can pretend it’s winter if you want.” 

“Steve!” You both look out towards the lake, and Robin is waving him over. “Stop flirting with your girlfriend and come back here. We need more people to play chicken!” 

Steve gives you a pleading look. 

“I’m not getting wet,” you tell him firmly. 

He grins and takes your hand, lotion-slicked palm sliding against your own as he pulls you up. “You won’t on my team, don’t worry.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x self insert #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #stranger things x reader

[sellenite]

cw: afab reader, kinda dubcon, mentions of blood, vampire venom (?) as aphrodisiac, thigh-riding, fingering, Suguru is a sexy vampire and he bites you, Suguru calls reader “bunny”, reader described as wearing a dress

MDNI | 18+

Vampire Suguru Geto would have such ethereal beauty that he would use to his advantage in seducing you into letting him drink some of your blood.

“Will it hurt?” You ask him, your eyes cautiously finding his deep amber ones. They look molten in the dim candlelight of the room, warm and honeyed.

“Only for a moment, but it will fade quickly,” Suguru soothes in that silken tone of his. The tips of his fingers glide up the backs of your thighs, beckoning you closer as he sits in his armchair in front of you.

“Might make you a little light-headed though. You should probably sit down.” He pulls you down into his lap after that. You squeak in surprise as he presses you to himself, your legs clumsily straddled around his thigh and your hands braced on the broad expanse of his shoulders.

Suguru bows his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent lightly as he runs the tip of his nose over your beating pulse point. You swallow the lump in your throat, breath hitching when you feel the plush of his lips ghost over your skin.

“Why so timid, bunny?” He purrs softly to you. He smiles against the skin of your throat before the sharp poke of his fangs pricks at your ear. You think of them sinking into your skin, the excruciating pain of them piercing your vein.

“Promise it won’t hurt too much?” Your words tremble more than you hoped they would. You pull back to look at Suguru once more.

The pupils of his eyes appear larger now, darker and dilated with hunger. The tips of his incisors poke out from the seam of his lips, the light paint of drool across them catching in the light.

You can see the hunger in how he looks at you (the need), feel it in how his cold fingers grip into the sides of your thighs. But his voice remains ever so smooth and composed as he pulls you closer to his body with a hand pressed to the small of your back.

“I promise,” Suguru echoes to you, saccharinely sweet and all too charming as he smiles at you, fangs bared and glistening. “Don’t you trust me?” He asks, his hand reaching up to brush a thumb over your cheekbone.

“I trust you,” you say softly, and he rewards you with that easy smile that you fell for in the first place.

“There’s my good girl,” he purrs to your as he takes your jaw in his hand, urging you to tilt your head to the side as he dips his head into your skin once more.

“Relax for me, bunny.” Suguru presses a kiss to the pulse of your neck and you only have a second to breathe before you feel the sharp cut of his incisors piercing into your flesh.

You gasp at the cold sting of his teeth, your hands instinctively balling his shirt up in your fists. The pain bites into you quickly, burning cold under your skin, into your veins, making unspilt tears well in your closed eyes.

But as quickly as the cold sting spreads, it is replaced almost instantaneously by… Warmth. Slow. Heavy. Spreading through your veins, languid like dripping honey. Honey like the color of Suguru’s eyes. Suguru.

“Suguru.” You moan his name out breathlessly, like a prayer from your lips as you begin to float in some liminal bliss.

He lets out a deep growl against your skin. You feel the warmth of his tongue licking out under his teeth, sucking up the blood that spills out from your neck. You hear him moan at the taste of you, feel him suck harder into your flesh. The warm heaviness seeps into your body more, down into your stomach where you burn from the inside.

Your limbs feel heavy in his grasp—weak. Your head is light and mindless as you melt into his touch, the feeling of him enveloping you. You feel his smile against your skin before his tongue laves sloppily against your skin, wet and hungry.

You don’t even realize you’ve been grinding yourself mindlessly into his thigh until you feel his large palm slide to the front of your body to cup around the mound of your cunt underneath your dress.

His fangs sink into you once more, but the sensation is instantly warm—instantly pleasurable—and you moan involuntarily. Suguru goes back to mouthing at your neck, all tongue and lips as he drinks from your delicate skin.

His fingers push aside the gusset of your panties, slip effortlessly into your wet heat and you whimper at the press of him inside of you. You roll your hips into his fingers slowly, rhythmically, unaware of how you move in sync with Suguru’s breath, with every curl of his fingers inside of you. He groans deep and low against your skin, and the sound vibrates through your body in waves of pleasure.

“Just like that, bunny. Make yourself feel good for me.”

an: I’M SORRY IF THIS IS SLOPPY 😭 but I had this idea in my mind and I haven’t posted writing on here in forever so I thought maybe I would try 🥲

#cw: dubcon #tw: dubcon #cw: blood #tw: blood #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto smut #suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you #geto x you #suguru x you

[angelfic]

Heyyy

I don't know if your still doing this but if you are, I would LOVE a Mattheo Riddle, mutual pining, prompt 1. Love you so much.

ask and you shall receive😚💌

mattheo riddle x reader + mutual pining + “who did this to you?”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

The castle is silent when you make your way to the Astronomy tower. Over the last week, you’ve figured out the best possible route to get there after curfew without bumping into Peeves or the Baron while avoiding any particularly loud portraits.

Ever since Hermione started pacing around the dorm while knitting, the Muffliato charm has been rendered useless and the clicking of the needles has driven you crazy. Combined with Fred and George’s experiments in the common room until early hours of the morning, the Astronomy tower is the only place you can get a moment’s peace.

Your footsteps into the tower become hesitant though, when you spot a wisp of smoke coming from behind one of the pillars. After taking a few tentative steps further, you realise with a jolt that it’s none other than Mattheo Riddle sat there, cigarette loosely held between his fingers. You recognise him from the barely visible angle pretty quickly, owing to the fact you’ve found yourself staring at him from afar more times than you’d care to admit.

He doesn’t turn around, flicking at his cigarette and when you shuffle, making a noise, he lets his head fall back to rest against the pillar. “Enzo, if you’re here to pester me again, you can fuck off.”

“Er, not Lorenzo,” you reply, voice quiet in the echoing tower. Mattheo sits up straight immediately, twisting around to look at you with wide eyes. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” he says quickly, giving you a hint of a smile. He nods over to a spot near him. “You can come sit if you want.”

You contemplate politely refusing since you probably won’t get any work done with Mattheo right in front of you, but another glance at him has your feet moving of their own accord.

Once he comes into full view, you notice in the moonlight that Mattheo’s nose shows the remnants of dried blood, there’s a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone and his knuckles are split open. It isn’t an unusual sight and you’ve often seen him around the castle either in the middle of a fight or with cuts and bruises as a result of one, yet you still find yourself staring.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow and smirks, despite the cut on his lip. “What, have I got something on my face?”

You blink, silent for a couple beats before clearing your throat. “Who, uhm, who did… this… to you?”

He shrugs, bringing the cigarette back to his lips to inhale. “Some Ravenclaw prick this morning.”

“How come you haven’t healed yourself?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity. “You normally do by this point.”

Mattheo’s lips quirk up in sort of a pleased smile, his eyes crinkling. “You pay attention to me, do you?”

“No, I- It’s just,” you stammer, fiddling with the corner of your planner and avoiding his gaze. You most definitely do pay attention to him, but you’d much rather jump off the Astronomy tower than admit to it. “You’re always getting into fights. It’s kind of hard not to.”

It isn’t clear if he believes you or not, since his face still displays an unwavering smile, but he nods slowly before answering your previous question. “Enzo usually does it. The healing spells.”

You consider this and hesitate for a few seconds, biting your bottom lip in nervous habit before abruptly standing up and walking over to the Slytherin. Plopping down next to him, you take your wand out of your pocket, which he eyes warily.

“I know some healing spells,” you explain. Raising your eyebrows in question, you point your wand at his face and wait for his consent, which he gives in the form of a nod. Starting with his lip, you mutter “Episkey.” The cut seals itself up, so you do the same with his knuckles before using ‘Tergeo’ to siphon off the dried blood around his hands and nose.

“Back to looking flawless?” he asks with a cheeky grin and you choke out a laugh, surprised at how relaxed he’s being with you. Mattheo isn’t as brooding as the rest of his friends, but he certainly isn’t all sunshine and giggles with people he isn’t close with. And it’s not like the two of you have ever conversed before, so you’re a little more than puzzled. Not that you’re complaining. “What’s had you so exhausted this week?”

“Hermione’s been staying up knitting and I can’t sleep through it like the others,” you sigh, moving back to sit against the pillar like Mattheo is. This is your first night coming to the Astronomy Tower though, so you furrow your brows and turn to Mattheo to tell him exactly that. “How do you-”

“You’ve been nodding off at breakfast,” he says, matter-of-fact. You don’t know how to respond, opening your mouth but not having anything to say. Mattheo notices your loss for words and swallows, suddenly sheepish. The tips of his ears have turned a light pink and he shuffles, making your shoulders touch slightly. “I pay attention to you too.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, heart about to burst out of your chest. You look down to where his hand is on the floor next to yours and in a brave move, you move your own so your pinkies are touching.

Mattheo is silent when he interlocks your fingers, meeting your eyes. His smile reappears, one that feels reserved for you. You’ve never seen him look more gentle before, and when he finally reaches over to kiss you in the quiet, moonlit tower surrounded by the stars, you begin wishing you’d started losing sleep weeks ago.

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x fem reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle x y/n

[hoesformatt]

CAR SHOW

chris smut, ANOTHER DREAM COME TO LIFE (y’all i had real bad writers block after the bad turn out with my marathon)

dom!chris • poc!reader friendly

not proofread

contains: missionary, making out in an elevator, couch sex, public foreplay, oral (fem!recieving), fingering, pet names, missionary, no use of y/n, lots of touching/groping, BOLD CHRIS

word count: 1.4k

the smut starts off at a car show in chicago (obviously) very crowded and the whole nine, js telling y’all

Surrounded by all my girls and my hood, the streets were filled with people admiring and betting on the cars, you could guess this is would be straight out of fast and furious.

Slipping between people packed like sardines, Teanna and I searched to find Wicked. We approached the brown-skinned completely tatted up man with the blunt between his lips “Wicked, how much for that uhm— blue car ova there” I pointed even though there was people surrounding the car so you couldn’t even see it anyways.

“G, which blue car? There’s that mo’ fucking teal one, the navy one…” he went to list all of them then asking for the model of the car.

The navy hellcat began to backfire and I specified it putting in 500 hundred and Teanna went against my bet for the opposite bright-green car. We dapped up Wicked leaving the spot going towards our friend group but recognised an unfamiliar faces. I brushed shoulders with one of the boys and he looked back with him catching a glimpse of his glimmering blue-irises before his lips curled into a slight smile.

I tugged on Teanna’s matching jacket to mine to see if she noticed them “Where he from?” I singled him out.

“I don’t fucking know” I constantly went to glance back to him as he got farther til he was beyond me. Or not. He walked up to me about half an hour later already noticing those eyes from under the street lights “What car did you bet on?” He asked me semi-yelling over the loud voices around us.

“Navy blue— half a band” I answered pausing between my sentence “What’s your name” I quizzed “Christopher, and you?” He gazed out to search for what I was looking for when I wasn’t staring into his eyes.

“Sweet mama” I said jokingly cracking up between the syllables, he chirped his head towards me before scrunching his face and laughing his ass off. Christopher’s laugh was contagious as he held his stomach trying to calm himself down. He licked his lips with that cocky smile still plastered on his face “It’s just a nickname or whateva”

I choose not to tell men my name up in these places because I usually just have flings here and there and I didn’t want guys hitting me up after getting good pussy for the first time in they’re lives.

“Where’d you get 500 bucks to bet on cars?” Now he getting too curious but I couldn’t take my eyes off Chris’ handsome ass face, nose—so rideable, lips—so kissable, cheekbones—insanely sharp and eyes—so lustrous. “Are you from here? I ain’t never seen you out here” I averted the conversation while I analysed his build, he caught me wandering around inappropriate places “Nah, I’m from LA”

I stand correct, climbing closer to Chris’ body to feel the heat emitting from his body “I’ve never fucked no LA boy before”, we laughed together once again just chatting and our conversation escalated quickly as the pre-game alcohol I had began to flow throughout me.

At this point we were only waiting for the race’s to start but Chris was getting impatient as my back was facing him with him forearm cutely wrapped around my neck to pull my ass upon his crotch.

He discreetly parted my thighs that were before meshed together and started to move his hand up my skirt, his middle finger grazing the wet part of my panties. “You’re already soaking for me” Chris’ plump lips were felt on my ear as he whispered into them. Sliding a finger past my slick cunt, I whimpered quietly as if somebody could hear us. Chris teased my clit between his now two fingers until he removed them to slip them into my mouth making me suck my wetness off. “What are you tryna do mama” His sultry voice sung music in my ears.

“My penthouse is right back here” I pointed to the luxury apartment across the street not even five minutes away from where we were. I gripped on his wrist trudging through the large crowd, pushing everybody in our way including Wicked.

“What the fuck is you doing with LA” Referring to Chris I just rolled my eyes continuing to weave around people. Quarter past we finally got to my complex and our arousal peaked as he was stuck kissed at my neck while tightly holding my waist until we saw the elevator open in-front of us.

Chris and I climbed in as I groped his bulge through his black tinted jeans, palming him while the elevator doors closed slowly. He let his groan leave his mouth when the doors shut and we continued to mesh our lips, sloppily touching each other until he looked up at the elevator camera in the left corner then brushing it off gripping my breasts from under my skimpy tube top.

Not wasting time before the door opened, I pushed up knee to create friction against his bulge earning desperate moans from him. Chris’ lips lapped with mine, he grasped my neck drawing me in closer. “I need to taste you mama”

I hummed but the ding sound of the elevator arriving at my floor stopped me, Chris lifted me with ease and I helped him by wrapping my legs around his waist and I directed him to my door.

Dropping me once we got inside my place he locked the door behind him, getting back to me quickly tearing of my jacket to then stripping off my clothing, starting with my tube top—down to my miniskirt making me close to nude. Left with my lacy patterned bra and basic black thong (I knew I was getting dick tonight).

Chris laid me down on my back onto my L shaped couch, he split my legs, propping them up to yank off my thong to apply his face near my heat and licking at my clit. Sucking on it Chris eyes were one mine as his tongue danced along my warm folds taking off my wetness and replacing it with his saliva. “Chrissss”

His name dragged throughout my lips while Chris used his two finger to spread my sticky folds and inserting his index pushing it knuckle deep into my pussy. “You taste so sweet mama” Chris held my hips down because I was rocking them up too desperately for the warmth and plumpness of his lips. He separated from my cunt adding another digit in to stretch me out and prepping for his cock.

Abruptly pulling his fingers from my cunt and dragging me closer up to his crotch, Chris unzipped his jeans teasingly removing them. Fuck.

Chris’ cock was thick and lengthy making me shocked but not surprised. “You’re gonna take this dick like a good girl for me” I nodded in anticipation, watching him jerk his length on my entrance before leaning into me and inserting it leisurely as my eyes began to well with tears “So fucking tight, Shit”. Attempting to blink them off, the feeling of being stretched to my limits started off uncomfortable until Chris bent down to kiss the tears from my cheek while slowly sliding in and out of me.

Wet from my last orgasm he quickly adjusted in me with his hands were carefully held my waist. Beginning to pick up his speed, my body jerks along with Chris’ cock rubbing against my insides, pushing in harder and deeper with every thrust he took. Using his grip over my hips to brush my g-spot, I yelped loudly with the sensation it gave me “Right there Chris! Don’t stop— Yes!”

His groans got louder as my walls clamped around his length that was twitching inside of my pussy. The waves of pleasure shocked through my spine causing my back to arch fiercely along with my orgasm chasing me.

My moans and screams told Chris I was close “Cum with me baby, cum all over my cock” his lewd words drove me over my climax, my body trembling beneath him as he caressed my stomach alongside his length bulging out and the feeling of the warm liquids filling me up before he pulled out and the fluid spilled from my pussy and he pressed it back in.

Chris licked off the remaining moisture from the inner-thighs, piercing me with his icy blue eyes as he did it “I should stay for the night” Chris insisted. “But the show” I reminded him

“I can give you a show mama”

tags: @lunariaxzz @thesturniolos @angelic-sturniolos111 @littlebookworm803 @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @alinaa131 @sturniolopowers @mattslolita @sturniofilmd @sturnioloooooo @mattsneezing @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @riasturns

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #hoesformatt #fan fiction #fan fic #riyahspeaks #hoesforriyah #riyahsbadnessmarathon #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #Spotify

[ervotica]

Hi! Can you do one with Eris x rhysand daughter reader where they're mates, but in a secret relationship?? Maybe they're getting kinda hot on Eris's throne, but then Rhys & Feyre enter the room and they're discovered?

𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐦𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

pairing; high lord!eris vanserra x fem!reader

summary; being the high lord of the night court's daughter is feat unto itself. when combined with being the mate of the high lord of autumn, it becomes almost impossible to navigate. you've been keeping your mateship with eris under wraps for a year. on a visit to the autumn court, rhysand unwittingly walks in on the two of you, and all hell breaks loose.

warnings; smut themes (18+ only, as always), ANGST, rhys is very mean in this i'm sorry i made him the bad guy, family issues, eris is sexy and also the love of my life

word count; 2.2k

a/n; wow the daddy issues rly popped off w this one ngl. just to clarify, i really do love rhys with my whole entire heart but i had to villianise someone for the sake of the plot. so enjoy this mess.

The intensity with which Eris surveys you is searing.

Not a new development - of course - but no matter how many times those amber eyes rake the length of your body, the molten honey of them burning into a deep russet as his pupils engulf his irises, it sets your insides ablaze with need.

You're perched atop his throne, clad in a gown of deep red with slits that slip down to reveal your bare thighs as you cross one leg atop the other. You certainly look the part of the Autumn Court.

He wants to devour you whole.

Your thighs part just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the scant fabric that barely covers your dripping pussy, and you watch the way that his eyelids drop, gaze darkening to something primal as the scent of your arousal encases his senses.

"Sit back for me, fawn," he murmurs as he stalks up the steps that land at your feet. Your muscles seize in waiting as you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to suppress a coy smile. His palms slip beneath the silk of your dress, hiking the fabric further to reveal miles of bare skin that only he's privy to. You go soft like prey when thick fingers peel themselves from your skin to curl around your throat, a thumb pressing into the dip beneath your chin.

"Eris," you murmur. He coos, nipping at your earlobe.

"I know, my love. Needy little thing, aren't you."

Gods, you love it when he gets like this. The lust drives him mad–it's like he can't stop the dirty things that fall from his lips. Each word makes you wetter, has you squirming in your seat, begging for the sweet release you know he's bound to grant you– after he's had his way with you, of course.

His nose grazes at your cheekbone, breath hot against your prickling skin.

"Please," you whisper.

His grin is positively feline as his pointed canines protrude to scrape at the curve of your jaw. "All you had to do was ask."

And then his lips are slanting hungrily over your own, a palm curving around your waist to anchor your body to his own as he kisses the breath from your lungs. Your thighs part, granting him access to step between them and press himself flush to your chest; his fingers loop loosely around your wrist to guide your hand between his own legs. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue scrapes against the back of your teeth as you squeeze the hot, hard length of him, revelling in the way he ruts into your open palm. Your chest heaves as he growls lowly against your lips.

"This is what you do to me, fawn. I've wanted to rip this dress from your body and devour you since you stepped through the front doors."

You keen, head tipping back to bare your throat for him. Surrendering completely. Pleasure thrums through your veins when his lips trail down to latch against the soft skin you've exposed for him.

This male is your undoing.

His hand resumes creeping its way up your dress, the tip of his thumb pressing to your swollen clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. You moan softly, a sound that he swallows with his open mouth against yours and then chases, rubbing tight circles into the bundle of nerves until you're arching into his touch, lifting off of the throne to crush every inch of your body against his own.

His touch is dizzying, and you're so consumed by the feel of him against you that you almost don't hear the double doors to the throne room creak open. There's a bang as they fall shut behind the visitor, and it's loud enough to have you startling where you sit.

"I'm busy," Eris growls, his forehead still pressed to yours.

"This can't wait, I'm afraid," Rhys drawls. Your blood turns to ice in your veins, any and all arousal effectively dying as soon as your father's voice echoes against the stone walls.

"Oh, shit," you mumble. "We're going to actually die."

Eris pinches your chin between a thumb and forefinger affectionally, flooding the bond with as much warmth and encouragement as he can muster before his head turns, and you bury your face into the juncture of his neck in an effort to hide.

"If you'd be so kind as to escort the lady out, Eris." Rhys picks at the cuffs of his black jacket, brow quirking when neither of you make any effort to move.

"She's fine right here," he replies, clipped.

Your father's nose wrinkles in disdain as he strides for the steps, and your breath catches in your throat when he reaches the edge of the marble floor.

"What is this?" he asks, folding arms over his chest. "You really want your latest escapade present for this meeting?"

Eris' soft eyes harden, ablaze with a fury you've often seen but never been in the direct line of.

"You leave her out of this."

Rhys scoffs. "Don't tell me you've gone soft, High Lord." His tone is scathing, dripping with sarcastic venom.

Eris rises to the insult, shoulders squaring as he straightens to his full height. And it's then, and only then, that your father catches a glimpse of your stricken face, lips parted into a gasp as Eris stares him down.

You go still behind the High Lord of Autumn, pushing your body upright against the throne and willing yourself to simply sink into the chair and cease to exist. Of course, fate has never been in your favour.

"My daughter?" Rhys bellows. "You're fucking my daughter?" His voice bounces off of the stone that encases every inch of the room, and you wince as his violet eyes meet your own.

"It's not like that," you murmur; Eris is torn between focusing his attention on you or Rhys, even as you desperately try to soothe him through the bond as he did for you just minutes ago.

"What is it like then, baby?" Rhys condescends to you. "Don't tell me you love him, now." He spits the words with such hate that you're positive a slap would hurt less. "You are nothing to him, do you not understand that? He will use you and discard you and not think twice about it and I will be left to pick up the pieces because you are too fucking stupid to see that!"

You're sure that your heart ceases to beat when your father finishes speaking, becoming this cold, unmoving thing that weighs down your chest until you struggle for breath. Your father's chest heaves with a simmering rage that has always terrified you, and it makes your body coil tight with a silent sob; you continue to stare him down, eyes narrowed in an attempt to push the tears stinging your waterline back. Eris turns his back on Rhys then, surging forward to kiss the droplets away, smoothing the hair at the crown of your skull down.

"You are so cruel." is all you say.

"I'm telling you the truth," he spits. Your body snaps up at his words and you stand on shaking legs to plant yourself in front of Eris like a shield. The redhead settles his hands on your shoulders, his touch grounding as he directs his next words at Rhys, his voice like death incarnate.

"Apologise to my mate."

Your father blanches at the words, staggering back a step.

"Your what?"

"My mate," he repeats, voice quiet with the anger that coils tightly inside of him. The outrage at the way your own father deigns appropriate to speak to you. "Apologise to her. Now."

Rhys exhales, shuddering when he turns his gaze back to you.

"I expected better from you."

White-hot fire licks at your insides as you survey the disgust that curls your father's lip, the way his eyes flicker down to where Eris holds your emotions steady with his touch alone. You're overcome with the need to protect your mate, even if it means tearing your own flesh and blood apart with claws and teeth and poisoned words.

"You don't know the first fucking thing about him," you spit, willing your voice to stay steady. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

"So tell me, sweetheart." Rhys doubles down.

"Why do you do this?" you sigh, some of the tension in your muscles loosing when Eris steps forward another inch to press his chest to your back, no doubt delivering a deathly stare over your head. "Every time I find something that makes me happy, you ruin it. He makes me happy. Why can't you see that?"

"I never thought you'd be this naive. I'm ashamed to call you my daughter."

You stumble backwards, willing yourself to stay upright even as Eris' hand grasps you by the waist and anchors you to him. You breathe, in and out, forcing the acrid air into your lungs even as you want nothing more than to lay on the floor beneath you and sob. He might as well have hit you.

"You've always been ashamed to call me your daughter," you hiss through gritted teeth. "I've never been enough for you, no matter how hard I trained or how much work I threw myself into, I was always the disappointment. And now I find someone that loves me, that supports me and wants me to be happy, and you want to rip that away, too? It's not fair!"

"That's not true," he says, though his stance falters. The mask slips and it bares the fear that lies underneath the cold exterior.

"That's enough." Eris' voice cuts through the stark silence like a blade. "You will apologise or you will leave, Rhysand."

He murmurs crooning apologies against your ear when you turn to tuck yourself into him, tears hot and fast against your cheeks that flare with heat in the wake of your admission. You feel as though you've been stripped bare before him, every vulnerability dragged to the surface against your best efforts to bury them. Your head tips back, glossy eyes meeting his and finding nothing but unbridled adoration in his gaze. He accepts you, scars and all.

"It's okay, fawn," he whispers. "It's okay. I love you."

You nod fervently, lashes drooping with the weight of your tears when he cradles your cheek and presses a kiss between your brows. His face rises to your father once more.

"If you'd like to keep your alliance with this court, you'd do well to apologise." His voice is rough and rasping with your pain but still leaves no room for argument. "(Y/N) is my mate, and soon she will be my wife and High Lady of Autumn. And I will not tolerate you speaking to her in this manner."

You steel yourself to turn and wobble down the steps to stand face-to-face with your father. You gaze up at him through tear-soaked lashes and the sight pulls at something uncomfortable inside of him. It's how you've looked at him for two hundred years– the longing in your eyes for him to accept you, the unyielding need for him to be proud. He never bothered to decipher what it meant. It's all too clear now.

"I will be leaving Velaris," you tell him, scrunching your nose in the same way your mother does when she's upset. It nearly sends him reeling. "If you never want to see me again, that is your decision to make. But my loyalty lies with my mate."

His lips part and then close as though he wants to say something. You internally plead for it. Say something, you think. Anything.

"I'm sorry that I disappointed you," you continue on despite his silence. "Everything I ever did was to make you proud and it wasn't enough. But I'm done ripping myself apart for your approval."

He watches your lips downturn into a frown, the crease that works its way into your brow the one he's been pressing kisses to and smoothing over for your entire life.

It's as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as you pass the burden you've been carrying to him before you're striding back up those steps, more confident than he's ever seen you.

You walk into Eris' open arms and smile, your face resting comfortably in the hollow of his neck as you breathe him in.

You don't look back when Rhys walks out of the throne room, the heavy wooden doors thudding closed in his wake.

"I'm sorry, my love," Eris murmurs.

"I'm not." You tilt your head to watch him, bringing up a hand to trace the contours of his features. You drag lazy knuckles over the edge of his cheekbones. "I have you."

A smirk cracks your stoic features and he stifles an amused grin at the question he knows is coming.

"So, High Lady, huh?"

He rocks you in his arms, nuzzling his cheek against yours and marvelling at the way you so naturally fit together. His true mirror, his equal in every way. You preen happily at the contact.

"Anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Within reason, fawn," he chides. You roll your eyes playfully.

"I was merely going to suggest we should pick up where we left off, my dear." Your hand glides the length of his body, circling teasingly around his hardening cock before veering away. He grunts, head tipping forward to rest against your shoulder.

"How could I ever say no to that?"

#acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #eris angst #eris vanserra angst #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra acotar #pro eris vanserra #eris fanfic #eris fic #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris acotar #acotar fandom #eris fluff #eris vanserra #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #writing for fun #acotar #eris acosf #acosf #eris vandaddy #fanfic

[stevenose]

don’t delete the kisses - part 8/?

landing page

a camboy!steve au

this installment contains: more smut!! more bonding!! more cute shit!!; camboy!steve; reader with a vagina; ‘princess’ is used in reference to reader once; oral (reader receiving); slight bit of orgasm denial; steve tryna be a s*gar d*ddy; caring steve <3 like steve literally getting off on taking care of u 🫶🏻

though this is written as part of a series, it can be read as a standalone fic!

author’s note: we back gang 🫶🏻 i hope you enjoy this installment! i have a lot more ideas now of where i can take this au so excited to continue it :) and hopefully i will update it before 10 more months pass lmao

You assume, based on the way light filters in through your curtains, that it’s a little after 6 am.

And Steve’s still here.

He’s curled up into your side. Hotter than a radiator but you never move away from him. Not even when you’re sweating from the proximity - of being near him, of holding him when he’s sleeping, vulnerable.

You can still feel the ache he left between your thighs.

You’d stayed up for a while just talking. Admiring. It wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover. But when Steve fell asleep halfway through talking about winning his senior year basketball championship, you couldn’t possibly find it in your heart to wake him up. And at some point in the night his lonely fingers found your side and they haven’t left since.

Robin was right. He does snore.

You’re too wound up to fall back asleep. It feels like something life changing just happened and you’re not sure how to feel about it. What’s he going to say when he wakes up? What if he regrets it? And that cold, terrified grip holds on to your chest, heartbeat quickening.

Steve moans a little behind you. Not like how he sounded last night. It’s innocent, tired, small. His arm pulls you in tighter and then he props himself up to stare at the side of your face.

You look over your shoulder at his messy hair, the little bit of scruff that grew in over his top lip overnight.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, laying back down, pulling you in even closer. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck sweetly, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your ribcage.

You have to swallow an elated squeal.

“Why’re you up?” his voice is deep, hoarse.

You smile, pushing back into him. “You were snoring.”

He tickles you - well, tries to with his sleepy hands. “I don’t snore.”

“Okay.”

Steve giggles - a sound you’ve never heard in your life, one you’d like to cherish forever - and tucks his chin over your shoulder. “You okay?”

You melt into his touch. Sweat beads at your hairline but you don’t mind. “Mhm.”

He sounds a little more concerned when he asks, “You sure?”

“I promise.” You find his hand under the cover and lace your fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He sighs, relieved. “Me, too.”

You’re almost positive he’s fallen back to sleep. His breaths even, get a little shallow. But then he talks again. “Can y’sleep?”

“Think I might just be awake,” you whisper. “But you can keep sleeping.”

“I’m up.”

You hum. “I’m not convinced.”

He rolls you over until you’re on your back, then props himself up above you. One hand finds your cheek and his sleepy eyes search yours for just a moment before he kisses you.

You have never cared less about morning breath.

It’s like he’s touching you for the first time again. All tender and reserved. His thumb swipes across your hot cheekbone and he presses his nose against yours when he pulls back. “Could a sleepy guy do that?”

You’re left a little speechless. You wish you had something funny and clever to say but you’re simply just enamored staring up at his soft face.

Steve looks like he’s thinking for a second, then says, “I can do more, you know.”

“I’m very aware.”

“You want somethin’?” His hand moves down your torso and rests at your hipbone, giving it a little squeeze. “You did all the work last night.”

You feel just as you did last night - excited, scared, sick, overjoyed, ache-y. “That’s not true,” you breathe.

Steve shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I don’t mind doing the work.”

You’re entranced. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips and he waits for you to say something, looking shy himself. You lick your lips subconsciously. “I don’t mind you doing the work, either.”

He grins and you feel so stupid. But he doesn’t give you a single moment to think of something better to say.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly. “I’d do anything for you. Anything you wanted.”

You nod dumbly.

He smiles a little, raising a brow slightly. “What do you want right now, sweetheart?”

You’re looking at his lips and yeah, you want those. You want those in so many places. And that tongue - a ribbon of arousal tightens in your stomach. “I want you.”

“I know you can do better than that,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You want what?”

You can’t speak, so you reach up and tap his lips with your fingers. Your face heats up when he kisses them. “You want my mouth?”

You nod. “Please?”

He kisses them again. “Where do you want it?”

You swallow hard and spread your legs. Last night was intense but this is something else. It’s six in the morning for Christ’s sake. And he looks like he just walked out of a porn shoot.

“Down here?” he asks, finally tucking his thumb into the waistband of your underwear. “Need my mouth on this pretty pussy?”

“Please?” you repeat. You can hardly hear yourself.

Your fingers slide away from his lips as he moves down the bed, throwing the covers to the side for a good look at you. You just about die at the sight of him, hair messy and still so perfect, naked shoulders broad, biceps flexing as he props himself up. “Help me out, huh, baby?”

You lift your hips for him to slide your underwear off. He places them neatly beside you on the bed, pats them twice with a wink. Whatever that means. You laugh, taking a moment to soak in the boy below you with his charm and gleaming eyes and freckles.

And then he parts your legs.

Your breaths hitch at the same time.

The air is cold on your center and you know you’re soaked. Embarrassingly so. But Steve is either indifferent or very much into it, because he says nothing, chestnut eyes trained on your core.

“This okay?” he asks, tearing his eyes away and blinking up at your face.

You nod vigorously. “Yeah, Steve.”

He turns his head to the side to kiss the inside of your thigh. It tickles. “Can you tell me what you want, please?”

You swallow hard, hands finding purchase on the sheets beneath you. “I want you to eat me out, Steve.”

He smiles softly and kisses up your thighs slowly. Occasionally he’ll press open-mouthed kisses to the skin, watching you squirm while he slots himself between them. “Want to know a secret?”

You want to know them all. Every last one. “Mhm.”

“I’ve cum thinking about having you like this before.” Another open-mouthed kiss. “All to myself.” Another. “Tasting how sweet you are, feeling you cum on my tongue.”

You’re more than breathless.

“Thought about it when recording. Had to grit my teeth to not moan your name.”

You listen attentively, burning up.

“And I thought about it at work sometimes,” he admits sheepishly. “About bending you over… eating you out behind the counter… and then I’d come home, set up my camera, and jerk off to it.”

You’re panting by now, his soft lips inching closer and closer to where you need him. You must be making a mess on your bed.

“So, if you think you’re a perv….”

He takes a moment to suck a hickey into your thigh and you finally whine, worked up to a boiling point.

“I thought about - about it, too.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds hopeful. He readjusts himself below you. Wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs, planting you in place.

It feels a little bit like you’re on a rollercoaster, waiting for the drop.

“I’ve thought about everything with you.”

Inexplicably, Steve’s eyes both brighten and darken at once.

“I’ll give everything to you.”

It’s the most romantic goddamn thing anyone’s ever said to you, and a second later he’s eating your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Oh -!” you gasp, hips jerking up. His strong arms hold you in place, keeps you still while he licks slowly up and down your folds. His tongue, hot and wet and thick, soothes the ache where he worked you open last night. Your head sinks into your pillow, unfocused eyes staring up at the pale blue light on your ceiling. “Oh …!”

“Mhm,” he hums, licks so slow it almost kills you. Your clit throbs, hole clenching, desperate for his affections again. He pulls away, just for a moment, chin already slick and eyes the color of coffee. “You taste so good.”

Steve’s lips wrap around your folds and he sucks. You gasp and arch your back but Steve pins you down again. He isn’t keen on letting you get away from the worship you deserve. He pulls back to look at you again, at your glistening cunt and pleasure-dazed eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Hold on.”

And his hands reach upwards from where they’re tucked under you. You reach for them, letting your hands interlace again. They lock into place and he squeezes sympathetically, like he knows he’s about to ruin you.

He doesn’t pull any punches when he resumes. The tip of his tongue traces tight circles into your clit and you writhe again, back twisting, whining out for him. He moves slow and methodically and you wish he would just finish you off. It’s almost torturous how gingerly he moves, even if there’s a good reason for it.

Steve doesn’t want to just make you feel good. He wants to devour you. He wants to dedicate the feeling of you, the taste of you, the sounds of your pleasure, all to memory.

And then he purses his lips and sucks on your clit.

You’re so far gone. Eyes rolling back, legs tightening around his face. “Oh my god Steeeeeeve!”

He giggles, but doesn’t stop. Keeps his lips wrapped tight around you, keeps sucking. It makes a perverse noise, so dirty that it makes your stomach flip. Your eyes roll back painfully and just when it’s about to be too much he finally unlatches himself and soothes your swollen clit with a broad stroke of his tongue. He dips down, pushing his face into you to taper his tongue into your hole.

“Oh my god, oh my god, fuck….”

The tip of his nose rubs against your clit steadily while he tastes you. “So gorgeous,” he purrs, his breath fanning against your cunt. “You ever taste yourself?”

“God - no -“

Steve sighs like it’s a pity, then goes back to work. He moves where you need him, just as you need it, like he’s a mind reader. You twist and writhe in his grip before finally getting loose from his hands. They’re clammy as you reach for his hair, tugging just how he likes, and he quite literally growls as his efforts increase tenfold.

Little unhs are torn from your throat. Your eyes roll back and forth, hooded when you finally get the courage to steal a glance at him. His highlighted hair tangled up in your fingers, his back rippling, the veins on his hands popping just a bit as he pins you down. He’s grinding his hips, too, and you moan over that - he loves eating you out so much he’s trying to get off on it.

Your heartbeat hammers in your ears.

“Fingers,” you choke out, tugging on his locs. “Fingers, please Steve?”

“Yeah?” He pulls back, your grip loosening, and he lines his middle finger up with you. “You’re such an angel, know that? Always sayin’ please.”

His fingertip teasing you is driving you to insanity. You swallow hard. “Let’s talk about it another time.”

He laughs again, white teeth gleaning. “What’s wrong? Pussy’s so empty, huh?”

You nod. “Please, I’ll do anything for it.”

His smile turns a little evil. “Okay. Then here’s what’s going to happen.”

He slides his finger into you and you gasp. The pad of it settles right against your sweet spot. He crooks his finger just right and you moan loudly, needily, grinding your hips down.

Steve looks up at you with a little bit of awe and a lot of determination. “I’m going to pay for your rent ‘til you find another job.”

“But -“

Crooks his finger again, makes you cut yourself off with another moan. His other hand moves to your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.

“Mhm, and I’ll get your groceries, too, and I’ll pay for our dates. Treat you like a princess because it’s what you deserve.”

“You can’t,” you reply hoarsely.

“Let me,” he breathes, “or I won’t let you cum.”

Your hands twist hard into your bedsheets. Steve’s fingers move slow, enough to keep your mind hazy, unable to think straight.

“Not fair,” you whimper.

“It’s not fair you lost your job,” he coos sympathetically.

You shake your head. “Not - not fair you’re h-helping.”

“I want to give you the world.” His eyes are soft, his fingers moving faster, calculated. “Let me.”

Your legs shake around his shoulders. “I - but I -“

His mouth replaces the thumb on your clit and you’re gone again. Nothing but a little toy for him to play with. Mind blank, focused on nothing but the coil in your stomach, his tongue swiping across your nub, his lips sucking, his finger curling.

“Fuck.” It’s all you can say.

“Let me,” he moans against your skin, panting a little. “Let me take care of you.”

“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve….”

“Say yes.” His voice is rough, hoarse. “Say yes or you won’t cum, baby, ‘nd I wanna see it, wanna see you cum again, please angel.”

Your mouth drops, pleasure and shame heightening in your stomach. You shouldn’t let him. But you want taken care of. And if he’s begging for you to let him, why wouldn’t you?

And, anyway, you really need to cum.

So you nod, mouth dropping open as your high comes to a head. “Y- yes!”

If you could open your eyes, you’d see how happy Steve is. “Yeah? Gonna let me?”

You nod again. “Shit, Steve!”

“Yeah, honey,” he grits, lips still tickling your clit, his finger working your sweet spot, his dick grinding into your bed. “So goddamn pretty, let me taste you when you cum.”

His breath is loud when his mouth engulfs your pussy again. You gasp and reach for his hair, fisting it like it’ll keep you tethered to reality. Your body goes stiff as you cum, clenching down on his finger so hard you’re both not sure how it doesn’t break. Steve groans lowly, tongue and lips still unwavering, sucking your clit into ecstasy.

You feel so good, so taken care of, that you cry, hot tears spilling down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. Bliss washes over you swiftly and leaves you warm and relaxed in his wake. It seems to last forever. You’re breathless and dizzy by the time you’ve calmed down, body going slack again.

Steve finally pulls himself away from you. A thick string of saliva connects you together. You moan at his flushed, wet cheeks.

“You’re so good at that,” you pant.

He grins, pushes his hair back out of his face before crawling up towards you. He’s quick to grab your chin and press a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself for the first time ever. And it’s hot, for no reason. Steve licks into your mouth with it before pulling back.

“You like how that tastes?” he asks, playing with your bottom lip.

You look at him wide-eyed. “Uh-huh.”

“Me, too. Know how much I love it?”

You shake your head.

“I just came in my boxers.”

You gasp, elated. “You mean it?”

He scrunches his nose. “It’s really not that hot.”

“Are you kidding?” you whisper, reaching up for his face. “That’s so goddamn hot, Steve.”

He groans, as if you’re kidding him, and rolls off to lay beside you. You’re quick to stare at his crotch, mouth dropping at the stain spreading over the cotton. He pulls you into his chest before you can properly admire it, and bumps his nose against yours.

“You’re gonna let me, right?”

Your brows furrow. “Cum in your pants?”

“No! I mean about taking care of you.”

“Oh.” You almost forgot about all that. “It’s - you’re so nice, Steve, but my rent’s hundreds of dollars -“

“Okay?”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Alright, don’t brag.”

“It’s only fair. I owe you, remember? Since you paid for my porn?”

Like you could forget.

“And in some ways, you’re like a business partner.”

“How?”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I can assure you I’ve cum to the thought of you in at least half of my videos.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be disgusted, but it’s Steve. Dorky Steve who’s holding you like you’re precious right now, who just sucked your brain out of your clit. You’re a little flattered, in fact.

“You said yes before,” he reminds you.

“I can take it back.”

He furrows his brows, frowns, hums like he’s thinking. “Mmm, don’t think so.”

“Well, I already came, so….”

“Angel,” he sighs, rolling you into your back, crowding back on top of you. His cock is still half hard against your core. “I can always make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You lick your lips, heart beating so fast it feels like it’s skipping. “Oh, yeah? Don’t think you’d last.”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

But he still leaves you a stack of hundreds on your bedside table when he’s about to go, refuses to take it back when you try shoving it into his hands.

“Just ‘til you get another job,” he says softly, holding your wrists gently in his hands, the hundreds curled up in your fist. “Let me help ‘til then, okay?”

“Fine,” you whisper, still feeling ashamed.

You both have an idea for another job in mind, but neither of you say anything.

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #ddtk

[necstasy]

biting; blood licking; unprotected p n v; fem!r; & LEE MDNI 18+

lee sinks his teeth into your shoulder and the sting is briefly shrouded by the pleasure. you expect the pain to lessen with each rock of his hips into yours. you expect him to only leave a mark and then let your skin be. but the feeling of his teeth only becomes more prominent against your skin, until you’re moaning out uncomfortably.

“lee.” you try to pull your arm away but he holds it down with one hand. his hips are weighted as they press into yours, keeping your stomach flat against the mattress. “lee, what’re you doing?”

you don’t mean to sound as scared as you do, but your voice begins to tremble as hot tears sting behind your eyes. while you seriously aren’t sure about his intentions, they don’t feel lighthearted. he has his teeth dug into you with purpose and it hurts.

he’s scaring you.

lee may be skinny, but right now he’s strong. he keeps you at his mercy until he draws blood, and it’s only then that his grip lessens. he pulls away from the skin on your shoulder with a smack.

“relax, pretty girl,” he tells you, his voice smooth and sweet, yet as heavy as his hips. the image of molasses enters your brain upon hearing it.

“‘m not gonna hurt you.” he kisses the center of your tender skin and then moves the form of affection around to each teeth mark, as if he’s attempting to kiss it better.

he pulls off of you completely and uses his hands on your hips to encourage you to turn around. when you stare up at him with teary eyes, he runs his thumb over your cheekbone and cups your cheek.

“why’re you crying?”

your legs fall back open and lee lines himself up again. you begin to speak around a sigh whenever lee sinks into you.

“it hurts, lee.”

he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead as his thrusts, strong and firm, begin to push you up the bed.

“‘m sorry, pretty girl, i’m sorry. it’ll just leave a little mark, that’s all. let everyone know you’re mine.” his faded pink hair tickles your nose as he turns his head to kiss the mark. there must be blood still trickling out because you feel the warmth of his tongue on the spot soon after.

“that’s what you want, isn’t it? for everyone to know you’re mine?”

you nod without hesitance.

lee grins and you can’t help but mirror it.

“‘atta girl.”

there’s a beat.

“now you gotta give me one. right here,” he lifts a hand to point to his left shoulder. “a matching one.”

sensing your hesitance, he smiles. “c’mon, don’t be shy. here, i’ll make it easy for you.” he presses his palm into the pillow under your head and begins to fuck you with determination.

his hips knock into yours, allowing you to feel the bone of his pelvis as it protrudes. with each thrust, his cock massages against a spot that makes your mouth fall open.

“there we go,” lee distantly praises. he starts to go a little harder, if even possible. a little faster, too, until you’re making an embarrassing amount of noise and, like he wanted, you clamp your teeth down onto his shoulder.

“there we go,” he repeats. “just bite down, baby. you won’t be hurting me. promise.”

when his free hand begins to circle your clit with fast movements, you have no choice but to sink your teeth into lee’s shoulder.

you don’t even know if he was close before, but by the time you’ve drew blood and you’re clamping down onto his dick with the beginning shocks of an orgasm, lee shudders and groans as he cums up into you.

he’s murmuring phrases that you know are intended to bring you both down. he’s collapsed onto you by now, removing the hand from your clit and using it to stroke your hair.

he rolls over, pulling you with him, and circling his arms around your back. he strokes the skin there with short and comforting lines. your teeth are off of his shoulder by now, but you can’t stop looking at the mark.

it lines up on your shoulders, mirrored in nature, and you have the strongest urge to see it in a reflection. you want to see how your marks differ. you want to see the evidence of your identification on each other. you want to fast forward time and see how they’ll heal, as you hope that the marks will stay.

but right now, exhaustion pulls at your eyes. you want to take a shower, but you’re finding it easier to be filthy the longer you’re with lee.

just before you fall asleep, you feel the firm press of lee’s lips against your bite mark, recognize the exaggerated smack of the action, and hear his final praise.

“you did so good for me. getting better and better each time.”

you can’t question his words as your eyes fall closed.

#&. WRITING #&. lee #lee bones and all x reader #lee x reader #lee bones and all #timothee chalamet x reader

[imthebadguyyy]

Hey, hope you’re doing well? 😌✨ I saw you opened requests for Lewis and I thought about one where reader and him are out somewhere at an event and the subtle physical affection they have. They’re both rubbing the inside of each others arms at different moments and they’re also smiling at each other when the other isn’t looking 🤭 I miss seeing fluff so that’s why I’m requesting it 🤣😭😭

Sugar Sweet Kisses and Velvet Caresses

pairing : lewis hamilton x reader

fandom : f1

synopsis : lewis can't quite keep his eyes off at you at the fia prize giving, but little does he know you can't keep your eyes off of him either.

requested!

a/n : thank you sm for requesting and interacting it means the world to me!! and i hope your enjoy it ☺️ also this image of lewis goes so well with this prompt

warnings : tooth rotting fluff

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

while lewis did generally enjoy galas because it meant he could go all out and dress up to the t, the prize giving gala was just plain boring.

it was the same droll jokes and mildly tense atmosphere as both toto and christian made petty speeches, that had him rolling his eyes and downing shot after shot of the non alcoholic beverage that had been provided for the table he was sharing with valterri, and his girlfriend tiffany.

he was mildly placated by the fact that you had accompanied him to the awards show, finding time out of your busy schedule of recording and touring to join him, looking etheral beside him, albeit bored out of your mind as the both of you exchanged quiet murmurs of sarcastic comments and disguised smirks.

as the ceremony unfolded, you had also exchanged discreet yawns and shared amused glances behind the veil of forced smiles with valterri and tiffany, who also did not enjoy the formalities of the ceremony. you found yourself becoming very good friends with the finn and the aussie, and you had spent many a race in matching mercedes caps with tiffany, cheering on your merc boys.

even after valterri joined alfa romeo, your close bond remained, and you found yourself in the alfa romeo garage when the mercedes one became too unbearable.

muffling a deep sigh, your fingers couldn't help but fidget with the silky material of the pink Versace dress you had chosen for the night, eyes taking in the dimly lit room and all the people in it.

from the table next to you, susie shot you a sympathetic smile, and you smiled back, giggling when she rolled her eyes and pointed discreetly to the stage.

you missed the way lewis' eyes were resting on your figure, a soft smile gracing his lips as he took in the wide smile on your own lips, the way you seemed to glow like a flickering candle, glimmering softly in the chandelier light. he couldn't help but feel a warmth rise to his face as he took in the curve of your nose and your long eyelashes, glittering with the sparkly mascara you had worn, to the outline of your cheekbone melting into your round cheeks, and the curve of your lips, painted in a glittery nude that suited you to perfection.

he took in a sharp breath, feeling mildly winded as he saw the way a stray strand of hair framed your face, slipping out of the neat bun you had elected to don, to the way your skin shimmered softly from the highlighter your makeup artist had put on you.

he took in the sight of your bare arms, the matching butterfly tattoo you both had on display on your forearm. his eyes trailed down to your hands, nails done in the same shade of pink as your dress, and fingers adorned in multiple rings, many of them gifts from him.

he took in the sight of the deep pink dress you were wearing, hugging every curve of your body like a glove, eyes softening as he took in the roll of your tummy in the dress and the way your it highlighted your collarbone, letting him glimpse into the dots that formed constellations on the bare skin.

he followed the trail to the way your leg peeked out of the slit in the dress, to the heels that adorned your feet, and shook his head softly with a smile as he saw that the heel on your left foot was dangling off your toes, since clearly his earlier warning of aching feet had come true.

he smiled as he recalled the way you had raised an eyebrow at him, and pursed your lips into a pout, and told him "i can't, not wear these heels babe, i got them just for this event!"

he felt his heartbeat quicken as he thought to himself for the millionth time, how in the hell had he gotten lucky enough to be with the goddess of a woman sitting beside him.

of course mr smooth wasn't as smooth as he thought he was because soon enough you felt his eyes delicately tracing the expanse of well, you, and you had to hide a blush at the thought.

lewis was snapped out of his daze when george and his girlfriend, carmen, came over to talk to him as the proceedings took a break.

as he turned to talk to them, his hand reached for your leg, resting on your thigh, gently squeezing it reassuringly.

as he engaged in polite conversation, he missed the way that your gaze settled upon him, taking in the sight of him in all his glory.

he had opted for an all black outfit , and he looked nothing short of jaw droppingly stunning. you took in the slightly crooked curve on his nose, smiling softly as you remembered many a night of pressing soft kisses to it, to the gentle smile he wore, a contract to the rough beard he adorned, to the little gap in between his teeth that you so adored, that flashed when he grinned at people.

you took in the silky black suit he was wearing, compliments his features so well, and the Cartier pearl necklace that he loved so much. the v cut of his suit allowed the necklace to gleam, and his tattoos to perfectly compliment it.

you took in the sight of his hands, littered with tiny tattoos that held so much meaning to the rings that rested on his fingers, many of which were gifts from you, some silver some gold, fingers intertwined with your own.

you took in the sight of his hair in a bun as well, a few loose braids framing his face making him look godlike.

you could feel your heartbeat flutter as you questioned how exactly you had gotten lucky enough to be with the man who sat in front of you.

lewis' hand trailed up from your thigh to gently grasp your arm, rubbing it softly, making you smile.

it was your way of reminding each other that you loved each other so much, when there were others around, since neither of you were really keen on pda. after all, as taylor swift had once said, "romance isn't dead if you keep it just yours"

the both of you were the definition of 'private, not secret' everyone knew you were together since about the beginning of 2020, and you two showed up at each other's races and shows, galas and awards shows. but it was a rare occassion where you were blatantly affectionate in public. you were shy, and lewis respected that and kept public displays of affection to hand holding and feather soft kisses after wins.

as alex and lily joined the six of you, you moved your chair closer to tiffany's, and lewis moved his closer to yours, so the two of them could sit as well, and lewis found himself reaching for your hands again, thumb tracing your knuckles and bringing your hand up for a quick kiss to your knuckles.

you couldn't help but flush at the chuckles from the others, while reaching out to gently rest your hand on his arm, while your other hand remained interlocked with his on his lap.

it was no secret that the both of you were absolutely head over heels for each other, and everyone knew it. they saw it in the way lewis' looked at you, as if you had hung the sun stars and moon in the sky, and how you looked at him, as if he was the softest sunset and the brightest sunrise.

they could see it in the way he spoke about you on the rare occasions he did, with nothing but awe and admiration for the woman he loved.

they could see it in the way you wrote about him in your songs, how you called him a gentleman in a world of boys, or how he was as handsome as a mansion with a view.

so when the camera panned to the both of you, showing the both of you gazing at each other with lovestruck gazes, eyes sparkling softy and sugar sweet smiles gracing your lips, and when the world champion was announced and lewis' name resonated on the speakers, it only felt right to press your lips to his.

your lips met in a sugar-sweet dance, a delicate blend of tenderness and warmth. it was a kiss that tasted like stolen moments and whispered promises, leaving a lingering sweetness on your mouths—a delightful confection of affection that resonated long after your lips parted.

his hand squeezed yours softly as he got up to get his prize.

you couldn't help the proud tears that sprung to your eyes as you watched him get up and accept the trophy for his eighth title, marking his place as a race in a league of his own.

everyone stood up as he made his way to the stage, and to your surprise, everyone stood up and clapped, and ginger spice even mouthed a sweet "congratulations!" your way.

as lewis began his speech, you couldn't help but snap a picture of him earning giggles from everyone around you.

"today, I stand before you not just as an individual but as someone profoundly indebted to the unwavering support and love of an extraordinary woman. my heart is brimming with gratitude as i attempt to express the depth of appreciation for the incredible person who has stood by my side through thick and thin.

to my dearest y/n,

In the rollercoaster of life, you have been my anchor, my steady compass guiding me through stormy seas. your unwavering presence has been the bedrock of my strength, and your love, the fuel that propels me forward.

in moments of joy, your laughter has been the melody that serenades my soul, making the highs even more euphoric. and in times of despair, your comforting embrace has been the sanctuary where my troubles find solace.

together, we've weathered storms, faced challenges, and celebrated triumphs. your belief in me has been a constant source of inspiration, pushing me to reach for the stars even when the night seemed impenetrable.

you, my love, deserve the glory of this moment just as much as I do, because without you pushing me to be the best, i wouldn't be here. thank you for being my confidante, my partner in crime, and my greatest supporter.

to the woman who has turned ordinary days into extraordinary memories, thank you for being the sunshine in my darkest hours and the reason for my brightest smiles"

as he ended his speech, you could feel tears dripping down your face and watery laughs from all around you, as carmen lily and tiffany all hugged you and wiped tears away from their eyes. you couldn't help the happy sobs leaving your lips, mouthing a quiet "i love you" to lewis, who was making his way back to your table.

as he approached, you couldn't help but kiss him again, hands gently resting on his chest as you kissed him deeply.

as the ceremony wrapped up and everyone began to get ready to leave, your hands remained interlocked, even as toto and susie suggested getting dinner with all the mercedes members present at the event.

you were content. you were happy. and you were oh so in love.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : i hope this is what you were looking for!! as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! ☺️

TAGS

f1 : @superlegend216 @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @ssararuffoni @theonly1outof-a-billion @ihateyougunthersteiner

all : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

#lewis hamilton #lewis #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagines #f1 #lh #lh44 #f1 x reader #f1 drivers x reader #fluff #lewis hamilton x reader fluff #lewis hamilton imagine #mercedes #mercedes amg f1 #imthebadguyyyasks #asks #formula 1

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Hi! Can I request a Carmy fic? I would love a confident reader who is maybe Sydney’s friend who comes to visit her at the restaurant. Asks her “who’s that?” when she sees Carmy in the background and tells Syd she has a hot boss (and Carmy overhears and likes her too). You can take it from there (with hopefully some smut)….I think Carmy would be emboldened if he knew that someone clearly liked him

More Than Friends

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem! Reader

Warnings: language, talking about sex, smut, oral (m! Receiving), office sex

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.8k

When I heard Sydney had gotten a job at "the best restaurant in the world," I imagined something a little more refined than The Original Beef of Chicagoland. Standing in front of the filthy sign, cluttered windows, and peeling facade made me question my decision to meet Sydney's "friends." I can only imagine the types of people who would gladly work here.

“Alright, I know it doesn’t look like much. But I promise, once you taste the food, you’ll never wanna eat anywhere else.”

I dragged my gaze across the unassuming appearance of "the best restaurant in the world." I'm not one to pass judgment based on appearance, but a dirty facade is not something you want to see in a place where food is being prepared for your consumption.

"Alright, Syd,” I say with a sigh, “I’m choosing to trust you on this one.”

Syd grasped my hand, tugging me through the threshold.

“Great! You won’t regret this Y/N.”

I permit Sydney to lead me into the restaurant. My nose was immediately filled with wonder. Considering the facade, the smell was impeccable.

“Woah.”

I said, staring aimlessly at the unkempt kitchen because the smell didn't match the appearance.

“What?”

Syd asked, worried something was not to my liking.

“I just- wow, it smells unbelievable in here.”

Sydney’s face broke into a pearly white smile.

“I know right! God, I was so worried you were gonna hate it!”

I looked all around the restaurant. It was shabby, dirty, and a little stuffy. In the corners of the room, the paint was beginning to peel. On the counter, a thin film of dust had accumulated. However, there was something that was quite adorable. For instance, it seemed as if this would be a great place for a first date. It appeared to be a location where many happy memories were stored.

“Hm.”

I hummed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I don’t wanna speak too soon, but this certainly feels promising.”

“Oh my God just wait until you meet the crew! They are gonna love-”

“Sydney?!”

A moving figure that appeared behind the counter caught my attention.

Oh my God.

“Who is this?”

He pointed towards me.

“This is Y/N, the friend I was telling you about?”

His eyes landed on mine. He was gorgeous, God. I was almost angry at Sydney for failing to inform me about her sexy coworker.

“Oh, this is Y/N?”

Alright, now was the time to take command.

“Hey, I’m Y/N.”

I strolled over and optimistically extended a hand for him to take. His shocked gaze lingered over my friendly gesture.

“Oh- Um, hi Y/N, I’m Carmen…”

As Carmen clasped my hand in his, his voice drifted off. He had a powerful handshake. We were off to a fantastic start.

“But, um-my friends just call me Carmy.”

I grinned, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

“So, is it alright if I call you Carmy?”

He raised his eyebrows in surpirse.

“Well, I mean-um-that depends? Do you think were gonna be friends?”

I scoffed, my grin morphing into a subtle smirk.

“Y’know, I don’t know if I wanna be friends.”

It took a minute for him to get it, but once he did, the reaction was instnat. Carmen’s lips parted, a faint shade of pink creeping onto his cheekbones.

“Well, um-”

He looked to Sydney for solitude. She chimed in.

“Hey, um, Y/N, we only have about an hour until we open.”

She came around to my side, wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and led me to the kitchen. She was directing my attention away from Carmen.

“How ‘bout we take a look around and then I can make you some food to take home?”

I nodded.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

I removed myself from the uncomfortable blanket of awkwardness once we were in the kitchen and a considerable distance away from Carmen.

“Okay, what the hell Syd? Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot coworker!”

Sydney pressed her finger to my lips, hushing me. Her face was filled with fear. Was my flirtation really that petrifying?

“Sh! Y/N, he’s not just a coworker he’s my boss!”

My jaw dropped to the floor, my eyes widening.

“No way in hell! He’s your boss?! The man I just talked to is your fucking boss?!”

“The man you just flirted with is my fucking boss!”

I scoffed loudly, my tone creeping well above a whisper.

“Sydney you have a hot boss!”

“Y/N!”

She exclaimed sternly.

“Please! I beg of you! Try to keep the flirting to a minimum!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Jesus Sydney why don’t you just cut off my leg while you’re at it!”

I flung myself atop a kitchen coutner playfully, dangling my legs.

“I mean, you have this absolute hunk of a man bossing you around and hanging over your shoulder 24/7. You are lucky!”

Sydney crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pursed.

“Please, can you just not flirt with my boss.”

I groaned.

“You are no fun.”

I gnawed on my lower lip, staring into the nothingness past Sydney, letting my mind drift. When a burning question popped into my head, I quickly jerked back into reality.

“Alright, but, can I just ask one thing?”

Sydney sighed.

“What?”

She inquired, exasperated.

“Have you ever tried to-”

She waved her hands through the air, hastily dismissing my question.

“Oh my God please no more of that! No! The answer is no!”

I held my hands up in defense.

“Hey! Don’t attack me! I was just asking!”

Sydney rolled her eyes, her annoynace bubbling within her.

“Look Y/N, Carmen is a really lonely guy. He isn’t like one of those jocks you’re used to flirting with-”

Sydney's tone was tinged with judgment. I had to chime in.

“Woah, okay, when did this turn into criticizing my romantic choices?”

Sydney shook her head, restarting her thought process.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying you are a confident girl and he is very much so a not confident guy. And, I know you’re just screwing around, and even though you might think he knows you're screwing around, I promise you he does not.”

I stared off into space, appearing to carefully consider my next ideas even though I was only messing with Sydney. I mean, really? Don't flirt with her hot boss? Was she for real?

“Alright, so what you’re saying is make it obvious I’m not screwing around before I fuck him?”

Sydney groaned, her eyes virtually rolling to the back of her head.

“That’s absolutely not what I’m saying!”

“Sydney! Get your ass over here I need your help with something!”

Another voice, not Carmen's, reverberated around the kitchen walls. Sydney raced over to me, her voice barely above a whisper. I recoiled, surprised at her sudden closeness.

“I’m saying don’t fuck him! Please!”

She took a step back, placing distance between us. Sydney took a deep breath, steadying herself.

“Now, I gotta go. Are you okay hanging here for a second?”

I nodded, trying to conceal my annoyance.

“Sure. I’ll be okay.”

“Hands to yourself!”

Sydney exclaimed before vanishing from sight. I assumed she'd only take a few minutes, but after about ten minutes of waiting, I decided to go exploring. I stumbled upon an appealing door that was closed off from the rest of the restaurant. I glanced from side to side, ensuring no one was around to witness my snooping.

I flung open the door, eager to discover the secrets of the hidden room. What I didn't expect to find was Carmen hunched over a desk, scribbling on a scrap of paper. When he noticed I was in his office, a look of shock wafted over his features. He blushed.

“Oh! Um, Y/N, what are you doing here?”

I shut the door behind me. Now, it was just me and him, in his office, alone.

Perfect.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was just exploring and this door was closed so it excited me.”

I motioned to the door behind me.

“Huh. Do-um, do things that are off limits entice you?”

I strolled over to his desk, trying not to overwhelm him with my seductive attempts.

“Yes. When someone tells me I can’t have something, it makes me want it real bad.”

“Yes. When someone tells me I can’t have something, it makes me want it real bad.”

Carmen scoffed.

“What? Like your friend's hot boss?”

Oh my God.

He heard that?

His cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink. He was taken aback by his own self-assurance.

“I mean, um, I didn’t-uh, I-I wasn’t eavesdropping I promise.”

He averted his gaze, suddenly becoming preoccupied with the numerous bills on his desk. I shrugged casually.

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t really care. It’s your restaurant after all. You have a right to know what’s going on.”

Carmen scoffed.

“What? Like your friend's hot boss?”

Oh my God.

He heard that?

His cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink. He was taken aback by his own self-assurance.

“I mean, um, I didn’t-uh, I-I wasn’t eavesdropping I promise.”

He averted his gaze, suddenly becoming preoccupied with the numerous bills on his desk. I shrugged casually.

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t really care. It’s your restaurant after all. You have a right to know what’s going on.”

Through his lashes, he looked up at me. Except for the soothing hum of the air conditioner, there was complete silence. The dim lighting created an intriguing ambience in the space.

“Uh-well, I’m still sorry.”

I grinned, his awkwardness was incredibly adorable.

“Did you happen to hear what Sydney said? Yknow, about the whole…”

I waved my hand through the stuffy air, hoping he'd finish the sentence for me. If Carmen was as unaccustomed to female interaction as Sydney suggested, I would not bring up the subject of sex.

Carmen raised his eyebrows.

“Uh-yeah, I-um, I heard most of it.”

He laughed awkwardly.

“Please don’t fuck my boss.”

He tried to mimic Sydney's tone of voice. I laughed, delighted by his attempts at humor. I trailed my finger down the uneven wood of the desk, attempting to appear nonchalant as I entered unfamiliar terrain.

“Yknow, we can still have fun and not fuck.”

Carmen shifted in his seat, tightening his grasp on the armrests. His knuckles had turned a pale white.

“We don't-y’know-we don’t have to do anything.”

I nodded.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. But, honestly, do you think I’m attractive?”

The breath hitched in Carmen’s throat.

“Yeah, I do.”

He said, voice cracking slightly. I smirked, fluttering my lashes suggestively.

“Good, cause I think you’re attractive.”

I moved my gaze down his body, enjoying the sight of his toned torso being softly hugged by a white shirt. God, his hands, what I’d give to have them around my neck.

Baby steps.

Baby steps.

Carmen shifted once more in his seat, the bulge in his jeans becoming increasingly more difficult to conceal.

“And, if you’ll let me, I’d love to take care of that for you.”

Carmen’s eyes widened.

“Oh-um, you don’t have to-“

“Well, I’m aware I don’t have to. But, yknow, usually when two people are attracted to each other they act on it.”

I slowly dropped to my knees in front of him, staring at him through my lashes. I shuffled closer, settling myself between his spread legs. The gentle smell of sweat and smoke wafted through the air.

“I mean, what’s the point of being attracted to someone if all you do is beat around the bush?”

God, this angle made me want to fuck him even more. He looked extra sexy when he was all hot and bothered.

“Yeah-um, I guess.”

I reached for his jeans, slowly unbuttoning his fly.

“Is this okay?”

Carmen gulped, his lips falling open as his breathing became audible.

“Yeah, this is okay.”

I tugged his jeans down his thighs, exposing his black boxers. Carmen’s erection was growing with every subtle touch.

Jesus, he was big.

I hooked a finger in the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down to join his jeans in a pool on the floor. His cock sprang free, beads of precum already collecting on the swollen tip.

“Oh Jesus.”

Carmen murmured under his breath. His knuckles were white. I playfully cast a glance upwards as I wrapped my hand around his length. Carmen shuddered. His entire body convulsed as I began to pump his erection. A few stray curls fell onto his forehead, and his chest heaved with each strangled breath.

“Try to be quiet, alright? We don’t want Sydney to think I’m fucking her hot boss.”

With that comment, I slipped the tip of his cock into my mouth. Carmen grit his teeth, suppressing the noises that threatened to spill past his lips.

“Does that feel good?”

I asked before hastily resuming my previous actions. Bit by bit, I took Carmen’s thick cock into my mouth. But he couldn’t help himself. Carmen thrusted his hips forward, his tip slamming into the back of my throat. I gagged, his visceral reaction was incredibly unexpected.

“Shit,” he whispered, “I’m sorry. Uh-yeah, yeah, that feels really good. Please, please don’t stop.”

Oh, I was not stopping.

Carmen's tanned body was covered in a thin mist of sweat. Moisture had adhered to the loose curls on his forehead. His pupils had been blown, and his dreamy blue eyes had turned nearly entirely black with passion.

Carmen's chest continued to heave as he attempted to recover control over his own body. He threw his head back, his Adam's apple now exposed.

God, he was sexy. I wanted nothing more than to place a hickey on that lovely neck of his.

The sound of footsteps hurried past the office door. Carmen's eyes widened in disbelief. He placed his fist in his mouth and bit down hard to conceal his desire.

Oh God, the thought of Sydney bursting through the door to find me on my knees with Carmen’s cock in my mouth frightened me. So, I gently took Carmen’s free fist and placed it in my hair, hoping he would take the hint and manipulate me to his liking.

Thankfully, his desire was so prominent that he pushed away his apprehension. He quickened my pace, moving me along his cock more rapidly. I relaxed my body, allowing myself to become a tool to help him achieve his release.

Carmen gripped my roots with such force that I feared my scalp would be pulled from my skull. Nevertheless, I pushed past the pain and discomfort in my knees and worked to bring him to an orgasm.

Carmen instinctively bucked his hips into my mouth, his cock twitching on my tongue. His salty precum coated my taste buds. I dragged my tongue over his swollen tip, his length now twitching more rapidly.

“Fuck! Jesus, I’m gonna-“

Carmen’s voice morphed into a pornographic moan as his hot cum coated my throat. He released his death grip on my roots, taking a few loose strands of hair with him. I gently dragged my lips along his cock a few more times in order to bring him down from his high. When he grew completely soft in my mouth, I removed my mouth from his length with a subtle pop.

I stood, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“You alright?”

Carmen hastily shoved his cock back into his boxers.

“I’m uh-I’m great.”

He threw his jeans over his hips, tattooed biceps rippling as he redid his fly.

He has nice arms.

I bet he could throw me around really easily.

“I just-um-we open really soon and I-um-I need to get ready there’s still a lot of work to be done.”

Carmen pushed past me. Before he could throw open the door, I placed my palm atop his hand, halting his movements.

“Would you wanna get dinner with me sometime?”

His eyes had returned to their lovely blue.

“Sure, um… I’m super busy but I think I can make something work.”

He grinned softly. He had a beautiful smile. God, this guy needs to get laid.

“Sounds good.”

Carmen and I crossed the threshold into the now-busy front of the restaurant. Employees rushed back and forth. A crowd had gathered around the front door. Carmen tapped my shoulder to attract my attention.

“Could I, um, maybe get your number?”

He asked, chuckling. I crossed my arms over my chest. I grinned devilishly.

“Sorry, I don’t have my phone on me right now,” I began, “oh! But, Y’know who does have my number who you could ask?”

Carmen tilted his head to the side, intrigued.

“Who?”

My eyes crinkled as I grinned sincerely.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

“Sydney.”

#carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white x reader #the bear fic #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear #the bear season 2 #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear