#so really i should be taking all this week and next week off too bc i still have more tests and appointments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tsxkkis · 3 months

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# tsukishima kei - drunk in love!

a/n = is this a comeback of mine of sorts? yes (although i don't want it to be, since it's not my best work). i haven't written anything in so long, and i really love the idea of a stoic, serious character acting clingy and completely different when drunk (reminds me of shin from a sign of affection, who's my fav boy ever), that's why tsukki might be kind of out of character here. also, i didn't proofread this because it ended up being longer than i expected.

summary = an intoxicated tsukishima is a clingy tsukishima. and also, he might say a bit too much for his own liking.

warnings = out of character tsukki (bcs he's drunk), mentions of alcohol

drunk tsukishima was surely a sight to see.

to see a man, usually so serious and stoic, in a state like that was almost uncanny. his cheeks flushed pink, a stupid smile plastered to his face as he giggled quietly over what yamaguchi just said.

after your entire friend group went their own ways either starting university or pursuing a career in volleyball, it became a common practice for the few of you to just meet up and discuss the latest life achievements with a drink in hand. everyone eagerly awaited that particular moment of the week, some (meaning yachi, of course) would even set weekly countdowns to try and surpass their excitement.

tsukishima kei, out of the entire group, was usually the more reasonable one, opting only for a drink or two. But after a particularly hard exam at uni, which he passed with flying colors, his friends decided in unison that this evening would be different.

the room was filled with laughter, tsukishima's tall body laying on the couch, his head pressed against yamaguchi's chest. alcohol made him somewhat clingy; extremely clingy, if you were to compare him to his usual demeanor. a low hum left his lips, his hand coming up to take his glasses off.

'i'm gonna regret this tomorrow.' he mumbled, being met with a wave of laughter in response. your eyes focused on his face for a minute, scanning it thoroughly. continued mumbling something, the tips of his ears bright red, face probably burning after all the alcohol he digested. but your mind was focused on something completely different.

he looks really handsome without glasses.

'y/n. i think he might have to stay here for the night.' yamaguchi's voice echoing through the room brought you back to life, your eyes quickly darting away from the blonde's face to focus on her friend. the freckled boy had an awkward look on his face, a usual for him, as he stood up, heading for his coat with yachi following right after.

they mentioned previously that both of them will have to leave earlier this time, but you only remembered that now; a warm understanding smile gracing your face as you said your goodbyes, the three of you giggling at tsukishima mumbling how he's going to 'beat you all up tomorrow for making him so drunk.'

as the door closed behind them, a sigh left your lips. the apologetic look on yamaguchi's face wasn't there for no reason; he, as well as the rest of your friends, were all well aware of the massive crush you had on him. ever since freshman year, it's been something you promised yourself you will hide from him forever.

tsukishima stretched his arms, a yawn leaving his lips as the late night hours finally caught up to him. you didn't notice when your neutral look turned to a bright smile. there was something incredibly comforting in this specific sight, tsukishima's soft features looking completely different from his usual appearance.

you crouched down next to the couch, trying to decide whether you should leave him to sleep here or try to get him to your bed and take the couch yourself. you almost didn't notice tsukishima's eyes glued to your face, a curious look to them as he scanned your features, something incredibly similar to what you've done just a while ago. he looked deep in thought, the pinkish color fading from his cheeks with time.

'has anyone told you you have a really interesting face?' he stated, his lips curved up in a proud smile as if he'd given you the greatest compliment of all time. 'you know, it's like a kaleidoscope. no matter how long you stare at it, you still can't take your eyes off of it.'

you laughed, the tips of your ears burning red, regardless of how stupid his 'compliment' was. sober tsukishima would never say something like this, but then again, that was the whole point. the sole reason why the blonde didn't drink much was that it brought out a different side of him.

an embarrassing one at that.

'alright, kei. let's get you to bed.'

you used all the strength you had to get him off the couch, a satisfied smile on your face when he got up on his own, almost tumbling over in the process. a giggle escaped your lips at the sight; knowing just how much you were going to laugh at him for it tomorrow, and every day after that.

you motioned for him to sit down on the bed, swiftly moving towards the wardrobe to him some fresh bedding.

'ohhhh,' a prolonged hum left tsukishima's lips as you started changing the sheets, his curious eyes following your frame around the room. he had his glasses back on, so now he could actually see what was happening. 'are we sleeping together?'

you almost choked on your own saliva.

your eyes met his for a brief second, just as you were finishing with the bed. you gently pushed him to lay down, taking his glasses off in the process so he won't break them when sleeping.

'i'll be sleeping on the couch tonight, so no.'

you looked over to the boy only to see... a frown?

it was almost as if you were looking at a completely different person. you were once more amazed with just how much a few drinks can change someone's behavior entirely.

tsukishima reached for your hand, pulling you down to lay with him. his touch send a wave of shivers down your body, as his tall frame scooted closer to you.

'stay here.' he murmured quietly. in that very moment, you forgot he wasn't sober; you wanted this situation to actually become reality. so, with a tad bit of hesitation, you obliged.

soon sleepiness got the best of you, your eyes slowly fluttering shut as you fell asleep, the blonde laying right beside you, his arm wrapped around your body as he murmured something under his breath. you didn't catch half of what he said, but there were three distinct words that you managed to understand.

'i love you.'

as tsukishima woke up the next day, a headache accompanying him from the moment he opened his eyes, the side of the bed was already empty. he slowly got up, arms reaching for his glasses laying on the small coffee table by the bed.

he slowly but surely tumbled into the kitchen, surprised when he saw a cup of tea standing in front of him already. his eyes shot up to be met with your figure, standing by the kitchen counter and making breakfast.

you smiled at the boy, looking at him for a spare second before focusing back on chopping the vegetables.

'this should help you with your headache.' you said, putting the last of chopped tomatoes into the bowl before giving the salad a nice mix, as silence took over the room.

'i said something stupid yesterday, didn't i?' his words echoed through the kitchen, disrupting the silence between you.

'now that you mention it' you said, putting down a bowl of food and a fork in front of him, sitting down on the chair right beside him. 'you did compare my face to a kaleidoscope, pouted like a kid when i told you i'm sleeping on the couch and were mumbling some incoherent words right before you fell asleep.'

tsukishima slightly covered his face, trying to hide his visible embarrassment at the mention of his drunken actions.

'well, at least i didnt confess to you when drunk.'

you looked at him for a long minute, your eyes indicating that something of this sort did happen yesterday. tsukishima's face was now flushed pink, more embarrassed than ever.

'oh.'

the room went completely silent, the two of you focusing on your food as you tried to think of any way to shift the conversation, get rid of the massive amounts of awkwardness.

tsukishima stood up, quickly getting your attention as your eyes shot up to meet his, a look on his face which you couldn't quite decipher.

'sorry for yesterday.' he sighed, hand moving up to adjust his glasses. he had a somewhat troubled look on his face, one that was apparent no matter how much he tried to hide it behind his cold demeanor.

he opened his lips for a few seconds, hesitant about his next words.

'i had somewhat of a different idea for my confession, but i guess that's it.'

you froze on the spot, mouth slightly agape, eyes searching for any indicators of tsukishima's words being a joke. despite trying really hard, she found nothing; only a nervous silence on the blonde's end, waiting for you to say something, anything.

'you... like me?'

he could only nod in response, distressed when seeing the huge grin growing on your face. he had no idea what to expect when you took a few steps towards him, but it definitely wasn't a kiss on the cheek, leaving his cheeks a deep shade of red.

'it's good to know that my feelings are mutual.'

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

#tsxkkis #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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thefrontofmymind · 2 years

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#sorry i've been so inactive today #i'm in a bit of a hole today bc i'm going back to work tomorrow #and i'm excited but ik one of my managers is gonna make a comment about how i took so much time off bc he does that #and he's gonna try to make me feel bad about it even though i'm already going back to work without doctor's approval #bc i've already had a month off and i AM starting to get better its just taking a while and i want things to go back to normal already #so really i should be taking all this week and next week off too bc i still have more tests and appointments #so i'm already going to have to take days off for those so i'm kinda taking whatever i can now #jorj rambles #sorry im just nervous is all

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kenlvry · 1 year

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LISTEN TO ME RN HEAT ME TF OUT STANS GANG + CRAIG DOIGN THE LIPSTICK TREND FROM TICTOK WITH READER

the lipstick trend with stan and craigs team

an, I AM LISTENLING ANON DONT WORRY. no idea what you mean by heat out though 🤨 , 17-18 and gn reader but use of her in tolkiens

kenny

he was the one who suggested it, it came across his fyp one day and he sent it to you "lets do this come over rn." "you asked, why dont you come to my house? 🤨" "why don't i cum in your mom" "HUH 😧" "im here."

you both definitely argue on what lipstick you should wear "okay but i don't even use pink lipstick" "well you should" "its light colour its not gonna appear" "well fuck 😒"

the process of kissing his face is wild, he would suggest to do his lips as the first place "KENNY HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THIS TREND IF YOU KEEP TRYING TO MAKE OUT WITH ME" "ITS NOT MY FAULT"

after like2 hours you finally get the lipstick on his face. now the tiktok was even harder he wouldn't stop laughing. you'd give up and he apologises while laughing

thank god you guys were able to finish it under 1 hour it turned out really good, at the end of the video he kissed you and you wanted to cut that part but he said keep it for like and its true the comments were all about the kiss on the last clip

kyle

okay he too wanted to ask you first but he was kinda shy and waited for you to ask and you did!! woohoo for kyle

"kyle wanna do this" "OKAY" he insists on picking your lipstick and picks the ugliest colour like what 😐

to him there was no such thing as an ugly colour buy it didn't suit your face so no way.

the process of it was calm, he at first wanted to put on the lipstick for you but you looked like a clown has mans never put on lipstick??

he watches you as you kiss him and reapply lipstick and then kiss him again, he feels like a princess fr 🤭🤭

he hasn't seen his face yet so when you record and he saw his face he laughs out loud, "LMAO WHY DO I LIKE THAT??" "WDYM"

you would tell him to take off his hat which he refuses but you looked too cute, when it posted cartman was first to comment and you can already tell what he commented "ew gay" your followers defended you two though 🤭

stan

stan blushes internally when you ask him. "sure im down" DEEP DOWN HE WANTS KIDNAP YOY AND KEEP YOU TO HIMSELF

"what lipstick do you think matches me best, pink or red?" "id say my tip colour" "WHAT 😧"

he has to hold in the very urge to puke every time you kiss him because like you look so cute omg.

he looks in the mirror and is js like "damn, i did it". HE LOVES IT SOOOO MUCH YOU CAN TELL HE'S BLUSHING ONGG ‼️

he even directs you like "do here next, okay now here" its so cute 🤭🤭

when you record and the camera pans to him, he smiles and covers his face blushing bc he can't contain it. it was such a cute video and got iver 2 mil likes. cartman definitely commented "i bet you had to change your clothes 10 times"

cartman

"cartman lets do this" "what." "wdym? cmon its cute" "y/n no offense but that is the most gayest shit i've ever seen" " NO ITS NOT UTS CUTE" "my reputation is at stake if i do that be so for real" "okay I'm asking kyle then" "lets do it."

he actually been wanting to ask you for weeks now but doesn't know how so winwin. you take your absolute time picking your lipstick and he couldn't be more done with "hurry up this doesn't even effect anything" "shut up cartman if i use the right one people will ask what lipstick it is and i get views"

picking a lipstick was already a big deal just imagine the process "ew gay not on my lips" "cartman 😐" tbh he wish he could just make out with you rn but yk how mans is

now recording is even more a hassle "JUST SMILE IS IT SO HARD TO CRACK A SMILE" "NOT WHILE IM LOOKING LIKE THIS" the most he does is wipes your lipstick off and then he just gives a 🙄 look until the end of the video

the comments are just him getting teased at clydes commenting "NAHHH CAN'T BELIEVE HE AGREED TO THIS" kyles is "i can tell that this took a long time" and then wendys is "is that cartman or a clone of him". cartman is pissed af at the comment, he told you his reputation is at stake 😒.

he actually has it saved downloaded and also is his live wallpaper sooo.

butters

butters is the one who asked you this " um y/n can we do this? 😣" while twiddling his fingers, "OKAY"

he's all giddy and smily during the process, after every kiss his blushes intensifies and by the end of it he is just.. 🔴

even though it is the most simplest video ever he has to have a tutorial, he is asking questions for everything man, how do i wipe the lipstick, what do i do, do i smile when its on me , do i laugh??

you tell him what he thinks he should he and he starts kissing you bc rn the sexual tension between you two is intense (to him atleast, he thinks thinks hand holding is already intense)

everyone comments on how cute he is and yk how tiktok is so people comment "does he whimper" "submissive who?" and hes likw WHATTTTT 🧍

clyde

when you suggested this he nodded so hard his head probably was about to fall off. "clyde you wanna do this" "DO I???" ..... "well.. do you?" "i mean yeah it's like a way of- yes i wanna do it"

he loves any lipstick you wear so he lets you pick. after every kiss he looks in the mirror and kicks his feet giggling and you just stand there 🤨

he also tries to make it a makeout session like kenny, when you kissed on his lips he holds your neck and literally makes out with like cnon we have 9 more

when you first hit record and yk how the guy has to wipe your lipstick off, nah he grabbed you by the chin and slams his lips with yours "WHY DIS YOU DO THAT??" "its called content,you wouldn't know with your 9 likes and 70 views"

well you kept the clip and everyone in the comments were talking about it "need a boyfriend like you y/n" "why can't my boyfriend be like this" clyde is obviously gloating bc he had the idea.

tolkien

most romantic man you know, is the first to ask you. "y/n can we do this?" "OKAY BOO 😝"

"hmm which lipstick do you think babe?" "i think every lipstick makes you pretty, it doesn't matter if it doesn't suit you because in my eyes you look beautiful in anything ☺️" "what if i wore kim kardashians 2013 met gala dress" "might have to rethink what i said"

he smiles while you kiss him here and there, every once a while he kisses you back, it was such a cute moment for you two😝🤞🤞

when recording he looks at you while smiling during the whole video and it blew up fast because of that

"the way he looks at her" "wishing he was like this" "you got the bag that man is inlove", it blew in seconds fr

craig

"craig lets do-" "okay" "i didnt even ask you yet" "I'll do anything if its with you" "what if i asked you to have a threesome" ".....if its makes you happy idk.."

idk about you but i think he acts like he doesn't care but inside he is so happy you asked he's been wanting to ask you this but doesn't know how to start up the convo

he doesn't care what lipstick or where you kiss him, its just the way you press your lips on him and look at it then quickly reapply to do it again because it wasn't pigmented enough.

when recorded, he doesn't just wipe he makes you turn to face him by grabbing your chin, and he doesn't let go and just looks at you with those yk siren eyes.

people are simping over him ong "damn girlie share for us" "you mean OUR boyfriend" "tryna find someone as hot as him" and you are pissed fr he laughs at you cursing out the people, like bae dw my eyes only fo you 😝🤞

tweek

"tweek, wanna do this?" "but what if I can't remove the lipstick stain" "tweek what dw i have makeup remover" "WHAT IF THAT DOESN'T WORK 🤯🤯" "TWEEK"

okay so the lipstick may turn out ugly bc of how shaky he is but ITS OKAY BC ITS TWEEK DUH, "a-are you sure you dont want to redo this?" "tweek its fine"

he insists on redoing it the 2nd try turns our worse because he's even more twitchy because of how close you are☺️☺️☺️

his face is just red because he keeps wiping it off with his hands so you can redo it and its obvious too

recording it was so funny because you can't stop laughing at the smudge lipsticks

when posted the comments were so cute but... uh questionable some were "the way the smudges are so obvious 😭😭❤️" or "wishing my future relationship will be like this 🤭" and some were just "tip colour when?? 😜"

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sincerelyneo · 2 months

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no judgement | l.mk

“i can be your lover or your shoulder to cry on, you can be whoever you like”

💿now playing: no judgement by niall horan

❯ summary: Mark’s shocked to see you at his front door step crying, but he isn’t surprised. You do this all the time - get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute that asshole dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. And he will. He always does.

❯ pairings: mark x fem!reader (brief mention of yuta)

❯ genre: friends to strangers to lovers? smut, angst

❯ words: 4.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, protected sex, lowkey sub!mark, hookup, rebound sex, glasses kink, big dick mark bc yes, oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, slight begging, yuta is an asshole for the plot, reader is also kinda mean, mentions of cheating (not between mark + y/n), slight unrequited love, use of ‘pretty girl’, reader uses she/her pronouns.

Mark thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. I mean - it would make sense - the last time he’d checked the clock on his desk it was 12:17 am. So, there’s no way the light knocking on his front door is really happening…right?

He tries to focus on the papers in front of him - a work assignment that was due last week that he’d already managed to get an extension on. He knows his boss will have his balls if he doesn’t have it completed and on his desk by 8:00 am sharp tomorrow (today).

However, Mark’s fears of premature insanity are put to a quick end this time when the knocking is paired with an unnecessarily loud yelling through his letter box.

“Mark Lee if you don’t open this door right now, I swear I’ll kick your ass the next time I see you.”

Now that - the sound of your voice - wasn’t in his imagination.

You bang harder, clear that you're using a fully clenched fist to make as much noise as possible. “I’m serious dude, I’ve kicked your ass before, and I’ll do it again. Now open. The. Door.”

Mark knows he should just ignore you, pretend that he’s sleeping and focus on his work; but, he hasn’t seen you in months, and you are supposed to be his best friend after all. He can’t just leave you out on the street at this hour — he won’t — what sort of friend would he be?

He rises from his desk, removes his glasses, and places them gently on the wooden surface before pinching the bridge of his nose.

You knock (pound) again.

“‘Alright alright, jeez, I’m coming,” he says, followed by a small curse as he ushers through his hallway to the front door.

As he swings the door open, he’s almost hit with a nasty sucker punch to the cheek as you simultaneously raise your fist to knock again.

“Woah there, calm down, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint,” he flinches.

“I think it’s a little too late for that,” you point to the house next door, “That woman has been glaring at me from her window since I got here.”

Mark peers out of his house, the cold night air nipping at the tips of his ears, and sees his neighbour looking down shaking her head disapprovingly at him. He raises his hand in a feeble apology, with a tight-lipped smile to ease the edge, but it doesn’t, he knows it doesn’t and he knows he’s going to have to do a lot of ass kissing in the morning.

“Well, Mrs Kim and her husband have just had a baby.”

He watches you shrug then grimace, “How was I supposed to know that? They didn’t have one the last time I was here.”

It’s now when Mark takes in the person standing in front of him, a mere silhouette of his childhood best friend. You’re barefoot, which already raises questions in his mind, and a bottle of wine is in your hand. Your hair is dishevelled and mascara smudged under the bottom of your eye – which makes sense since he can see the faded redness from where he knows you’ve been crying.

“So, you gonna let me in or what? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

Well obviously, Mark thinks, you’re wearing nothing but a short black dress, covered by a thin sheer blazer leaving your legs completely bare in the middle of winter. Your teeth chatter and he has to suppress the smile threatening to dance on his lips because it reminds him of when the two of you used to mess around in the snow during winter break back in high school.

But he pushes those memories to the side, just like his front door, as he makes enough room for you to slip into his house. As you step inside, you waste no time making yourself comfortable - old habits die hard you guess - remembering how things used to be.

You remove the blazer you're wearing and walk over to Mark's desk, draping it over the back of his chair. Your eyes fall on the sheets of paper scattered across the surface, partially covered by his glasses. You recall that he had stopped wearing them during junior year, opting for contacts instead - a decision you found disappointing. You had always liked his glasses; they made him look kind of... cute.

“I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

Yes.

“Nah, not really,” Mark shrugs following in from behind you.

“Really?” You ask picking up a sheet of paper as you raise an eyebrow, “Marketing campaign for neo gummies, on my desk Monday 8:00 am.”

There’s a smile on your face as you read it because it’s nice to know that the Mark standing in front of you is the same as the one you grew up with. He was always the last person to hand in his college assignments, and school science projects; but don’t get it wrong, he’d always ace them.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve basically finished it.”

Mark’s lying, and you can easily tell by the way his arm reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. It's a mannerism you've become aware of, noticing how he used to do it when you asked him for his opinions on some of your uglier fashion choices throughout high school.

“You sure?” You add, “I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with your boss or anything. Especially now that you live in this fancy-ass townhouse, your mortgage payments must be crazy.”

Mark shakes his head with a smile, reaching for his glasses and putting them back on. “They’re not that crazy…”

You give him a knowing look, his living room alone is practically the size of most apartments in the city. But you didn’t expect anything less from him, he’d always worked hard for everything he had. He graduated with flying colours, found a high-paying job after college, bought a nice house; and you’re sure that one day he’d secure himself a nice girl to live in it with him.

What you’re trying to say is Mark Lee had something to show for himself, which is more than you can say after you took a more leisurely approach to college. Mark had always worked a little too hard for your liking, or maybe you just worked a little too easy for his. Either way, he’s the one with his life put together and you’re just…standing barefoot in his living room, looking a mess, with a bottle of alcohol in your hand.

“Well then, since I’m not imposing, how ‘bout a drink?” You suggest, waving the bottle of wine in the air in an attempt to win him over and distract yourself from your own reality. As shitty as it sounds, you come to Mark to escape the chaos of your own life, so dwelling on comparisons isn't something you want to keep doing.

For Mark though, he knows he shouldn't indulge in a drink – after all, the work assignment on his desk is practically begging to be completed. But he's always struggled to say no to you, and he's well aware that you know that too. It's why you're so comfortable knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning when most of the city is asleep; you know he'll always open up for you.

And that’s exactly why he’s heading into his kitchen and rooting through his cabinets until he finds two wine glasses.

When he comes back into the living room, he finds you standing by the fireplace. It's not unusual, considering you were freezing just moments ago on his doorstep from your attire. However, what catches him off guard is that you're not warming yourself by the fire; instead, you're holding a picture – Mark's favourite one – taken by his parents on the day you got your wisdom teeth removed.

"No way you kept this," you groan, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

"Of course I did. You were completely out of it on anaesthesia, going on about marrying Lee Taemin," Mark replies.

You squeeze your eyes shut, remembering the way you sent the hot senior you had a crush on in your freshman year a DM in your high state. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

But truthfully, that's not the sole reason Mark kept that picture, or why he still chooses to display it despite having hundreds of clearer, better ones of the two of you together. He treasures that particular photo because it was the day you told him you loved him – although you never brought it up again. Mark pins it down to you not remembering from the anaesthetic, but that photo, it’s the last slither of hope he has left.

“Well, I must say, Mark Lee, you have had quite the glow-up since your high school days,” you laugh putting the picture back on the fireplace.

Mark can't believe his cheeks are warming up as if he were that same teenager – pathetic, he thinks. And he wants to say the same about you, but he hardly recognizes you. You're a completely different person from the girl in the picture, and while he loves you, truly, it doesn't change the fact that you're a mess sitting before him.

To his defence, it's impossible not to notice it; he saw it the moment he opened the door and saw your smudged makeup and raw eyes – you’re defeated. And even though he knows precisely why, he still asks.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?"

You swallow, “Can’t I just come and see my best friend?”

“No, you can’t.”

His words carry a double-edged sword, both an accusation directed at you and an expression of the hurt he's experienced from your repeated instances of ghosting him over the last few months.

You begin pouring yourself a generous glass of the wine you brought along. If you were going to have this conversation with him, you weren't about to do it sober.

“Yuta broke up with me.”

And there it is. You always do this – get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute the asshole in question dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces.

And Mark hadn't forgotten the name Yuta; in fact, it had been seared into his mind ever since you posted a picture with him on your Instagram account, looking all lovey-dovey. And then Mark had gone into full stalker mode – because of course he did – he always did. But the thing with Yuta was that he was one step ahead. One particularly awful day at work, when Mark wanted to check your account, he found himself blocked.

Honestly, Mark doesn’t blame Yuta, he’d be lying if he said all his thoughts about you were completely innocent, but you’d never blocked him over a guy before. He's accustomed to the isolation, the ghosting, and the personality changes that come with you getting a new boyfriend; but being digitally blocked by you was a new low. It's safe to say Mark had already formed his opinion about your new ex-boyfriend: he was definitely an asshole.

"Why did he break up with you?" he asks, not out of genuine concern, but rather out of selfish relief. Still, he knows it's the right thing to do.

“He found someone else, or I found him fucking someone else,” you spit bitterly, “and do you know what? That fucker didn’t even give me a chance to grab my shoes before he kicked me out.”

You take a long gulp from your glass, the liquid burning slightly as it goes down your throat, and then you flop back on the sofa. Your movements are heavy, weighed down by more than just the alcohol in your system. As you sink into the cushions, a wave of emotion crashes over you, threatening to engulf you completely. It's a moment of vulnerability that you've been holding back, and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You try to fight them, push down the rising tide of emotions, but it's futile.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he reassures, quickly taking a seat beside you on the sofa and resting a gentle hand on your thigh, where he begins to rub small, soothing circles into your skin, just like he used to do. "You can stay here tonight."

You groan into your hands, you can’t believe you're acting like this – pathetic – and it has you immediately defensive. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, so quiet Mark almost misses it.

“Like what?”

“All judgy.”

“When have I ever judged you, Y/N?” he questions, his tone gentle, “I’m always your shoulder to cry on, we’re past the judgement stage,”

"I don't cry that much," you protest weakly.

“Well…” he starts, that teasing look in his eye you love.

In response, you push his chest playfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Because you’ve missed this – missed him.

And that’s the part that always stings the most: how effortlessly you two slip back into each other's company. Despite not speaking for a couple of months, it's like you didn’t lose any time. And perhaps that's why Mark finds it so easy to keep forgiving you, and why you find it so natural to slide in and out of his life and then expect him to mend your broken heart.

Mark grabs the hand you used to push his chest and looks at you seriously but gently, “Seriously, Y/N, you can just be yourself with me, just like it’s always been.”

His words resonate with you, stirring something deep within the pit of your stomach. You meet his gaze with glossy eyes, and in that moment, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion. Without hesitation, you lean in and press your lips to his.

It's a tender kiss, soft and sweet just how you expected Mark’s lips to be. And he melts into it just as much as you do, if not more so. It’s like he craves it, like he’s hungry for it. And he is because you – his first-ever crush, the girl he’s been in love with since he could remember – is pressing her lips to his. The teenager in him is jumping up and down right now.

Just as you're about to deepen the kiss, your face bumps into his glasses, causing both of you to pause as they sit askew on his face. Mark blushes and begins to fumble with them, but just as he's about to take them off, your hand wraps around his and stops him.

“Mmmm. Keep ‘em on,” you bite your lip as you reposition them on the bridge of his nose. “I like them.”

“I didn't realize you had a glasses kink,” he teases.

“Neither did I...just like them on you.”

That triggers something inside of him because his tongue lightly sweeps over your bottom lip where he nips it with his teeth. One of his hands reaches up to cup the nape of your neck; the other finds its way to the hem of your dress, intrusive fingers brushing over your bare skin, making you gasp.

He stills.

Did he just fuck this up? Was he reading it wrong?

There’s a fraction of a beat where you just breathe against him, and Mark feels a twinge of self-consciousness. And just when he’s about to apologise, you dive into him and all reservations are thrown out the window as you give him the green light.

His hand wraps around your waist and he pulls you over his lap to straddle him. It gives him all the access he needs to grab your thighs and lift you up as he stands. He keeps your lips connected as he wraps your legs around his waist, pressing into you just enough to feel the swelling in his crotch.

If you thought he was hungry for it before, now he’s starving.

Your arms wrap around his neck, your breasts crushing against his chest. Your hips start to move against him without any control, almost like it’s instinctual. You suck on his tongue and he groans. And God if it isn’t the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he says into your mouth, “Are we really doing this?”

You smile against his lips, “We’re doing this.”

You both take that as a confirmation to go harder, kissing like you’ve been starved of each other for years, and Mark supposes you have. His body moulds to yours and you feel his hand wander to your ass making your dress lift as he carries you out of the living room.

When you see him heading for the staircase you know exactly where his head is at, and when he opens his bedroom door with you still in his arms, you feel wetness pool right between your legs.

He drops you on the bed so gently and carefully not to hurt you – because even though he’s so goddamn horny right now – he’s still Mark. When your back hits the whites of his sheets it gives you a moment to look at him, his chest is heaving, lips swollen and cheeks flush. His hair is tousled and it makes your blood run cold.

He looks like pure sex. Hot sex. Good, filthy, all-night-long sex. And you want him, more than you’ve ever wanted any man before in your life.

Mark kneels on the bed in the space between your legs, coming close enough to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, and you wonder if he sees you the same way you see him right now. He brushes your cheek gently with his thumb and you lean into his caress and plant a small kiss against his palm.

His lips meet yours again as his hands slip between you two. They glide up your leg, to your stomach to under your dress, where he finds you not wearing a bra as your nipples pebble under his rough hands.

Instinctively, your arms stretch over your head, reluctantly breaking the kiss so he can tug the material off and over you, lips crashing back together as you roll your hips into his with desperation and need.

Mark groans when he pulls away to look at your naked chest in front of him, it’s a picture he thinks. One that needs to be hung up in an art gallery or some shit – actually now that he thinks about it – he hates the idea of you being on display like that for someone else.

His fingers wind themselves in your hair, a delightful shiver skittering along your body as you soften into his touch. You can’t help but grin suggestively as you look him in the eyes, top teeth holding down on your lower lip as your hands creep low enough to hook into the band of his pyjama bottoms.

Mark practically whimpers as your hand teases at the elastic, “Please.”

The plea has you smiling wider, knowing exactly what he wants. You remove his bottoms without a second thought, the same time he strips from his t-shirt. His cock springs free, thick and long and straining so eagerly for you.

You get a thrill knowing you’re the one who’s made him this hard and that makes you want to please him badly. So you do, taking control and flipping him over to be underneath you. He gasps at the motion and then he almost cums untouched at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, lowering yourself down just enough to kiss the tip of his cock.

The teasing touch sends a chill right through him. He leans back on his arms just to see you, eyebrows strained as he concentrates, glasses slightly fogged – he wants to remember exactly what you look like like this. You’re intoxicating, strong enough for him to get drunk on.

“So pretty,” he murmurs under a soft breath and you blush.

You lick your lips, focusing on his cock, flattening your tongue from the base all the way up to his head, where the slit is leaking with pre-cum. You hear him suck in a breath and it makes you smile.

You like knowing he’s needy, teasing him to ignite small reactions, but continuing to do so would only be hell for you; because right now you want nothing more than to suck on his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever taste.

You wrap your hand around his shaft and don’t waste another second before your mouth is sinking to suck on him. You manage all you can – there’s a lot of him – and use your fingers to move up the length you don’t swallow, stroking him painstakingly slow.

As you kiss and lick at him, Mark is going mad because it’s your mouth. Your mouth is wet and hot and currently wrapped around him good enough that his thighs have started trembling.

It’s not long before his hands find your hair and he helps you to slide more of his cock inside, knowing exactly when to stop instead of making you take too much. But he’s big and thick and your mouth barely covers him – which he hates – it feels like a reminder that he’s not made for you.

The thought has him letting out a growl, which catches you by surprise from the whimpering mess he was seconds ago. The grip he has on your hair tightens.

“Fuck, Y/N, suck me harder…” The dirty words sound dominant at first, but they trail off as you continue sucking on him, a lot like you’re melting him, and you fucking love that idea.

The thought of having him be so desperate for you is making you wetter and needier. And it’s that need that has you reaching up to graze his nipples with your fingers. Mark finds the chill of your cold digits distinctive, responding with a mewl that rings between the walls of his room.

You can't believe such a small touch makes him so…responsive.

Every tug on his sensitive peak is enough to pull a sound from his pink lips, enough to make him writhe his hips and edge his cock further into your mouth.

You twist and pinch and watch as Mark’s face twists in the feeling, mouth dropping open to release a stuttered breath. It’s so sensual - so carnal.

You pull off his cock with a sickening pop, looking up at him with spit-covered lips. “Who would have guessed your nipples would be so sensitive?”

Your hand stays at a steady pace, stroking him slowly as you speak. Mark shivers from the loss of your warm mouth around him, but there’s still a part of him that’s glad you stopped. But not because he doesn’t want this — he does, so badly — but because he was starting to feel his cock’s overwhelming urge to twitch with his orgasm. And there was no fucking way he was going to cum before he’d even buried himself inside you.

In a cooling breath, he replies, “Only sensitive for you.”

Warmth flushes on your face, and the arousal soaking between your legs begs to soak his cock. He’s so cute when he is all red-faced and whiny, eyes closed tightly as his brows knit together. And you suppose his own state of neediness triggers yours.

“Want you inside of me now, Mark,” you pant, “Need it.”

“Fuck~” his voice drips like honey as he moans, hands moving to grab at your waist to flip you under him.

You push yourself further up the bed and he crawls after you. It’s only now he realises the lace barrier still on your skin standing between you and his cock. Your panties are dark blue and they look so pretty against your skin.

He leans down, kissing the inside of your knee, letting his fingers slip up your ankle to cradle your smooth calf.

“Sometime tonight,” you tease.

But Mark likes to go slow, he likes to savour in your sight, study your body to remember every detail for his next late-night fantasy. He wants to bask in you being so bare and so ready for him — not your ex-boyfriend — him.

He skims his hands further up your bare legs until he slides your underwear down and disregards them somewhere on the floor. Then, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing your chests together skin to skin. He likes it like that — being so close and so intimate with you that it's almost raw.

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom. You don’t take your eyes off him once as he rips it open with his teeth and rolls it down the entirety of his length. Heat pools in your stomach because this is happening — and that makes your pussy throb.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside of you, breathless. You can’t help but sink your head back into the mattress, eyes closing.

“Eyes open.”

You lazily blink them open.

“Eyes always on me pretty girl,” he demands, thrusting into you.

You’ve never felt anything like him. You feel so full. He’s everywhere. Even your lungs and head are filled with him.

“Taking me so well pretty,” he groans.

His praise has you gushing, whining with the feeling of him stuffing you. It’s not awkward like the first time having sex with someone can be. It feels like you’ve always been doing this.

“You’re okay?” he asks.

He sounds calm, but you can see the restraint that he’s barely holding on to by the tightening in his jaw, and the tension in his brow.

“More than okay. Just fuck me, Mark. Please.”

He brushes his lips over yours and whispers, “Oh I plan to.”

You smile, but it’s quickly gone as he starts to move, fucking you slowly, then quicker and quicker, and harder and faster. The headboard is banging against the wall, surely denting it, and you know if the neighbours weren’t already pissed about your knocking they’d definitely be pissed now.

And selfishly, you can’t find it in you to give a shit because he’s like a machine, working thrusts into you at all the right angles to elicit sweet moans from your lips.

You’re panting and groaning like a bitch in heat. Mind fuzzy with euphoria as your flesh slaps loudly together. If college you knew that Mark Lee, your best friend, was about to give you an orgasm she would have laughed in your face.

But, God, the man can fuck.

He urges you onto his cock harder, clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, each time your hips connected in powerful thrusts.

“Oh God, Mark,” you try your best to keep your eyes open, but the pleasure is threatening to consume you.

“That’s it. Cum on my cock pretty girl. I won’t come until you do.”

The idea makes you want to hold off forever, let him fuck you for hours just to bask in the feeling of your closeness. However, your body disagrees with that sentiment, and suddenly you’re cumming hard.

“Shit,” he hisses, feeling your walls flutter around his length.

Mark doesn’t slow down though, he fucks you through your orgasm like a madman, hammering deep to the hilt to chase his high.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N…shit…fuck…” He growls a sound so erotic in your ear, you feel like you might cum again.

He sags onto you, his body heavy but not crushing, his skin warm against yours. You touch your fingers to his cheek.

“I don’t think I can move,” he says, breathless.

“So, don’t.”

The tips of Mark’s ears turn red at the suggestion, but eventually, he figures he needs to move — much to his dismay. He eases out of you, catching hold of the condom and pulling it off his cock. He rolls off of you and out of bed to put it in the trash before he’s back next to you, arms engulfing you in a hug.

You look up at him and he presses a kiss on your lips before pulling back. “Are you staying?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I asked first.” He says.

“I’ll stay if you want me to stay.”

Liar.

Mark swallows, “Okay well, I’ll get us breakfast in the morning then, yeah?”

He says it but he knows come the morning you’ll have slipped out in the middle of the night because this isn’t the first time he’s had sex with you.

Mark has always been your rebound. Yes, he’s your best friend, but he’s also your favourite hookup call when your boyfriend’s being an asshole.

And he knew that when he first heard you knocking on his front door. He knows you'll never change – and strangely, he's content with that, he’s accepted it. Because even though he knows you'll move on again, he doesn't mind keeping your secrets safe until the next time when you want a man to heal your heart.

Because Mark will settle for being a pity fuck if it means he gets to be a constant in your life.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #mark lee smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #nct imagines #nct hard hours #kpop smut #nct oneshot

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withleeknow · 2 months

Text

how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: jisung x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mentions of periods bc duhhh erhm note: ok so i'm REALLY not sure what this is lmao but i switched up entirely compared to the first installation (with minho) and i think this is the format i'll be sticking with for the rest of the members. i'm still just experimenting and trying to figure how i want to approach doing drabbles/drabble series like this so pls bear with me a little for now lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

jisung, who can't be trusted with even the simplest of tasks. you should've known better. (and honestly? you did know better, which probably makes the whole thing so much worse.)

jisung, whom you ask to run to the store just because you were too lazy to brave the evening chill yourself and get the shit you need.

jisung, who texts you what size pussy u wear? while he stands in the middle of the aisle, feeling like he's illiterate as he's surrounded by products of different colors and shapes and sizes and wings.

jisung, whose eyes catch a specific pink packaging with pretty flowers that makes him pull out his phone and snap you a picture. this one looks better. yours is boring, he'd text you, to which you'd replied with a dozen question marks before calling him an idiot and telling him to leave the fancy pads and hurry home with the ones you usually use.

jisung, who returns about thirty minutes later holding two large bags in his hands, which definitely contain a lot more than what you had sent him out for - just a pack of overnight pads and some sweets.

jisung, who kisses you in greeting as your eyes narrow suspiciously, then he'd proudly show off the goodies that you didn't need - an assortment of sour candies and chocolates, chips, ice cream bars, your favorite cookies, and lastly, a random purple pouch.

jisung, whose love language looks a lot like making you get diabetes whenever your time of the month rolls around.

jisung, who beams like a kid in a candy store when you ask him about the pouch with a brow raised. "look!" he'd beam, holding the little thing up like it's the most magical invention he's ever come across in his entire life. "it holds your pads! and it has unicorns on it!"

jisung, who doesn't deflate at all when you tell him that you already have one, but instead, he'd tell you to ditch the one you have because it's too "boring" (re: it doesn't have unicorns.)

jisung, who volunteers to carry the pouch for you the next time you go out together, musing to himself about whether or not he should add a little strap so he could wear it like a crossbody bag, not even batting an eye when you stare at him and gape in disbelief.

jisung, who really uses your shark week as an excuse to buy dumb shit for himself and stuff you full of treats.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #han x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung x you #stray kids #han jisung #blurbs

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tearsofastraeax · 5 months

Note

hiii i just love ur stories and i was wondering, could u write a story where a lot of girls flirt with ghost (cause he's just so hot tbh) and we're crying and feeling bad bcs we're scared he'll find better since he dosen't reject or ignore them??

ty a lot and take care <3

thank u anon ♡ i had so much fun writing a lil angst

sorry it took me longer than expected to wrap up your request, the creative juices are not flowing these days, but i hope you enjoy ♡₊ ⊹

It's no surprise to you that going out with an incredibly fine piece of man is going to come with some jealous feelings here and there.

Just a couple weeks after you started to hang out with Ghost, you noticed women staring at him. But you didn't blame them, how could they not stare? Ghost just naturally attracts women, with his broad shoulders, his veiny arms, those giant hands ... you could go on and on forever.

But you never expected to find yourself sitting in your bedroom, hiding underneath the blanket and silently sobbing into your pillow because of it.

Earlier that day when you were out with Ghost for a drink it really hit you. You had barely left for a minute to head to the bathroom, but when you came back you saw a beautiful woman standing next to him. Inching closer and closer to him, her hand on his shoulder and a flirty smirk on her face. And it didn't look like he was opposed to it in the slightest. His body was slightly angled towards her, his face covered in mystery behind his mask, but you could feel his smile, you just knew.

Your heart felt like it was about to drop, break apart, stop beating all together. Your stomach was in knots. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute, you had no right to be jealous, right? You were only seeing the man for a couple of weeks now, nothing serious... only, at one point, unbeknownst to you, your little heart had accepted him in and made it serious. You were fucked, royally fucked.

To feign calmness you took a slow breath, in and out. Before you made your way back to Simon and the woman still plastered to his side. You coughed uncomfortably to make them both aware of your presence.

It took him a moment to take his eyes off the woman, before he turned to you.

"Oh, this is my friend, y/n," he looked back towards her, gesturing to you.

You all but managed to swallow the big lump that had formed in your throat. His friend? Is that all you were? A friend? Nothing more? Did it only take one beautiful woman to suddenly make you nothing but a friend to him? You should have known this, it was just too good to be true. Of course he would find someone better than you. You felt your eyes begin to water, but you aggressively blinked the tears away. No, you were better than this.

"Yea, his friend", you pressed out, a tight and obviously fake smile on your lips. "Who is just about to leave actually. Have fun."

You grabbed the jacket haphazardly thrown over the seat next to the one you were just sitting on and turned around. Your legs carrying you out of the bar, you couldn't wait to get out of there, to just get away, as far as possible.

What you didn't see was Ghost's slightly confused expression as he watched you leave. But what you did know was he didn't follow you. Didn't he notice how upset you were? Did he just not care?

You huffed out an annoyed sigh, at yourself, at him, at the world, at everything.

You had barely made it home, slamming the door behind you, before the tears came. They welled up, making everything blurry, and then they came crashing over you like a wave, making it hard to breathe, harder to see and impossible to do anything but slide down against the door and sob into your hands.

And there you were, laying in bed, an hour later, still fucking pissed and sad and helpless and jealous and ...

Your phone vibrated next to you, Simons name popping up on your screen. You tried to ignore the call but he immediately called again. Deciding to pick it up you heard a low growl in your ear, the hairs on your neck standing up, a slight shiver running down your back.

“Open the fucking door, y/n.”

The edge in his tone made you immediately jump off the bed. For a quick moment though you stopped in your tracks, hating how he could command you and make you feel, how he had so much power over you when clearly he didn't feel the same about you.

But you heard him pounding on your door, so you hurried to open it. The door swung open and his eyes immediately bore into yours. You swallowed down a thick lump in your throat as he crowded into you, effectively pushing the two of you into the apartment. He slammed the door behind him shut and stared down at you, never breaking eye contact.

"What the fuck was that?" He growled. You couldn’t fucking believe his attitude, weren’t you the one that was supposed to be angry?

You took in a deep breath before you answered, "well, I wasn't the one flirting with some chick..."

You meant for the words to come out more powerful, maybe even as aggressive as his. To make him understand that he had no fucking right to barge in here like this and act as if he had the right to demand answers.

"You...", his gaze softened then, shifting into ... surprise? "You're jealous?"

All you could do was shrug, feeling too raw from crying to vocalise your feelings. But to your surprise, he didn't say another word, his hand softly cradling your cheek. Your skin underneath his felt hot to the touch as you looked up to him. His eyes seemed so soft and gentle then, making your breath hitch in your throat. The feeling of him wrapped around you like a warm blanket was overwhelming. His gesture nearly stitching your heart back together all by itself.

"I'm sorry... I-", was all he could say before his lips pressed onto yours, so harsh and hurried, yet somehow gentle and sweet.

His hands slowly travelled down your body, once he reached your ass, he lifted you up so effortlessly, your legs immediately wrapping around his, as he carried you to the bedroom.

He gently whispered between kisses, "I'm gonna make it up to you, I promise."

#Simon Riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #Simon Riley angst #ghost angst #request #✧･ﾟ⊹ astra writes 📖

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ginevrapng · 7 months

Note

I LOVE LOVE LOVE your chubby reader fics. I was thinking maybe marauders era Remus lupin, maybe he has a crush on chubby reader but she’s oblivious bc she thinks he could never like her? Keeps giving her little gifts almost trying to court her

it's charms and remus lupin is staring longingly at you, all in vain of course, at least that's what he's come to believe. he's fancied you for months and he's tried everything over the past few months to get you to notice but you never have, so all he can do is take these small moments to admire you afar and in peace.

in the recent months you noticed a change with him, you'd say you're not really friends and consider yourself more acquaintances, but he's been making more of an effort to talk to you. you figure he's heard about what happened with that ravenclaw who insulted you in front of your whole house and took some pity on you. remus had no knowledge of this event and if he had the marauders would have made him their number one target.

remus is starting to feel at his wits end, he's asked to study with you which now happens every week, he smiles at you in the hallways and talks to you in between classes, he even gave you a book he thought you'd like and buys you sweets from honeydukes. he feels like he's running out of options. a couple weeks ago he asked you to go to hogsmeade together and you turned him down saying that he should go with his friends and not be stuck with you, "i'm not going to be stuck with you, i want to go with you that's why i asked." remus' eyebrows furrow slightly, trying to get you to understand that he wants you to come.

"thank you remus, you're so kind but don't worry about me, you should be with your friends." you tell him and he feels like shouting at you and telling you off sometimes because how can you be so clueless to his feelings but to you you've never even considered the possibility that remus might have feelings for you. in your eyes how could he, you're just some chubby girl and remus is extremely out of your league so why would he ever be interested in you? he's smart and kind and friendly and attractive, he's really endearing. you like knowing that remus doesn't like talking to a lot of people and that he can become awkward, you like it because he chooses to speak to you and that always makes you feel warm inside, he truly is amazing, and truly out of your league. little did you know that remus thinks the same of you, you're sweet and pretty and cute and you look so soft. he dreams about holding your plush body in his arms while you talk together for hours and sneaking you into his dorm.

remus is studying, this time without you and he's lost track of time, he's looking at the words but not taking anything in, instead just thinking about you. his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of james pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. "where's your girlfriend moony?" james grins at him.

"she's not my girlfriend," remus sighs and rubs his forehead with his hand smoothing out the crinkles.

james' grin falters understanding that pain, he had the same pain with lily before they became a couple. "do you wanna talk about it mate?"

remus pulls his head back and looks up to the ceiling, "no, but i- it's j-just, she never believes me and takes me seriously. she constantly thinks i'm being her friend no matter what i say," remus says sounding slightly frustrated.

"i'm sure that's not true, maybe you're not making it obvious enough. it's clear that she likes you back, she always smiles when you answer questions in class and looks at you when you're not looking."

"prongs that isn't helping one bit, if she likes me back why won't she get that i like her too. i've made it plenty obvious, last week everyone was talking about that celestial ball that happens every few years and i said that i would want to go with her, i literally told her i'd want to go with the prettiest girl in school, you."

james starts laughing, "i thought she was meant to be clever moony."

"don't say that, she is, cleverer than you. she's just... oblivious."

"who's oblivious?" remus turns his head to see you standing there with the textbook that you've borrowed of him under your arm.

"you," james replies automatically grinning, remus glares at him, i'm going to kill him later. james slaps his hands on his knees and gets up, "i'll be off, catch you lovebirds later," he grins and walks off.

"piss off," remus says considering throwing something at him as he walks away.

you sit down where james was sitting but move your chair closer towards remus. "james really is ridiculous, you deserve much better than me," you say casually with a smile and go to open your book to the correct page.

remus frowns as he hears the self-depreciation in your tone, because what do you mean, if anything it's the other way. you look up at him when he doesn't reply and you see the frown on his face. "remus are you okay?" you ask concerned, hopefully james didn't make him feel uncomfortable by calling you both lovebirds.

"you really are oblivious," he mutters.

"huh?"

he shakes his head and places his hand over yours on the table, stroking your hand with his thumb, you look shocked at the action but remus just turns back to his book knowing that he'll be able to concentrate now with you next to him.

i'm so glad you like my chubby reader fics!!! i had so much fun with this!!

reader who doesn't think people will like them because they have low self esteem and doesn't think highly of their body + remus who loves them and their body like it's second nature, like it's the same as breathing ahhhh, it's sooo good

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princessbrunette · 5 months

Note

toxic ex rafe would pick you up from a bad date no matter how pissed he was at you bc at the end of the day nobody can make you cry but him duh 🙄 he had ur best interests at heart not them! - 🐰

he’s not that toxic really in this but i couldn’t help myself

🫧🦢🪞.♡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

he’s already rambling as he shows up, rolling his window down as he pulls up into the parking space next to where you stand. “what, this guy doesn’t drive or what? who fuckin’… leaves a girl outside the restaurant ‘stead of driving her home? jesus, this guys got no game.” he complains, all huffy and pissed off because why are you going on dates when you should be with him?

“‘said he had somewhere to be.” you mumble, humiliated as you climb into his passenger seat, fumbling for the seatbelt. when you can’t do it, he sighs and reaches over— pulling it across your body and plugging it in.

“yeah, real charming guy. i can imagine.” he shakes his head, turning to look out the back window as he reverses to turn the car around, an arm on the back of your seat. to this day the action still makes your stomach go funny.

he drives away, and for a moment there’s silence, just filled by the rumbling of the car and your pathetic sniffles.

“sorry for calling you. i know it’s not ideal—”

he waves you off with a lazy hand, eyes fluttering in irritation at himself for being so whipped.

“its fine— i— couldn’t just leave you there. s’dangerous.” he licks his lips thoughtfully before his eyes glance over at you. “what happened anyway? why’re you cryin’ over that nobody?” his nose twitches in disgust.

“you don’t even know who it was, rafe.” you wipe your eyes on the backs of your hands, refusing to look his way. he scoffs, a victorious if not slightly malicious smile on his face.

“you think people at the country club don’t talk? ‘course i do.”

another silence passes, because you’re frustrated.

“he was just so… rude. i’ve never been spoken to like that before… just made me feel like nothing on our first date. it was horrible.” your lip wobbles and he sighs.

“why are you taking anything that freak says seriously, huh? should’a known you were too good for him from the start. now his ego is boosted n’ he’s tryn’a humble you. i know how guys work, baby.” the nickname slips out on instinct and you almost wince. moving on from rafe has been hard, because as problematic as he is — he feels like home, and after the day you’ve had you want nothing more than to backslide and let him scoop you up in his arms and make it better. you sniff, a gentle smile gracing your features as he pulls into your drive.

“so wise of you, what happened?” you joke as he stops the car, head turning to glance at you but getting caught in your gaze, unable to tear his eyes away from your beauty.

“its called maturing, alright? became a man.” he tries to sound nonchalant, but even then its clear he’s trying to prove himself as better. you nod before reaching for the door handle.

“thanks for the ride, rafe. i appreciate it.”

“yeah.” he blinks, not looking at you. you climb out the car, shutting the door and as you begin to walk away, he winds the passenger window down once more, leaning over to speak out of it. “wh— hey.”

you turn around, tilting your head curiously. “cut that guy off. i mean it.” he raises his eyebrows and you nod, still naturally obedient towards him which makes his chest clench.

a week later, you spot your date at the beach with a big black ring around his eye. you wonder where it came from.

🫧🦢🪞.♡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

#🐰 anon #rafe cameron prompt

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

hands off | matt murdock

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (mutual masturbation, mxf intercourse, dirty talk) swearing, established relationship

a/n: okay. OKAY! okay. be gentle with this one because it’s my first matt fic!!! also, i saw this video on tik tok about ppl doing this game thing, but idk who posted it first and i don’t have the videos, but that’s where the dies comes from. also this is literally just smut, don’t even look at me ITS BEEN A LONG WEEK. okay bye. literally posting this and running away to sleep bc i am afraid BYE.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sooo? You like it?” You keep to your side of the couch as Matt brings the glass up to his mouth for a second time. He hums, swallowing and licking his lips, and you have to bite down on your own to control yourself.

Asshole.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Sweet.” His voice rumbles. You think you should have tied yourself down or something, because there’s no way you can win this stupid bet if he was going to keep teasing you like this. He wasn’t even doing anything, really. Everything he did seemed to turn you on in some way or the other, especially now, as the alcohol starts to kick in, warmth spreading through your face, flowing all the way down.

It was your idea; this whole bet. You and Matt had been together for a while now, and the longer you spent with him you realised how much of a fucking tease he was. So, in your muddied brain, you decided two could play at that game, even though you were almost certain you would fail miserably. You were, however, planning on giving him a run for his money. Or your money, considering how you had both put two hundred dollars on the table for the winner.

The rules were simple. You drink an entire bottle of wine- your favourite brand, hence the taste testing Matt was currently being put through, and sit on opposite ends of the couch. The first one to break - to touch the other in any way, loses. You were notoriously… frisky, when you drank wine, and Matt thought the game was going to be innocent enough until you started popping more bottles.

“Good sweet or bad sweet?” You say, and he empties the glass, holding it out for you to pour him another.

“I’d give it a good 7 out of 10. I’ve tasted better.” He hears the exasperated gasp of shock, and smiles in a way that’s so classically Matthew that your heart skips a beat. He probably hears that too.

“This is the best thing I have ever had. What could possibly taste better than this?!” You pour him another glass that he downs half of quickly, eager to get to the good part.

“I can think of a few things.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and he smirks, taking another sip.

“That feels like cheating.” Your entire body ignites at the shift in mood, and you nearly shiver when his hand trails along the edge of the couch, moving dangerously close to your shoulder, then retreating back.

“Hey, you said no touching. Nothing in the rules about telling you how much I love your-“

“Okay! Okay. I get it. Finish your glass, cheater.” He downs the rest obediently, placing the glass gently on the table, right next to the stack of fifty dollar notes you had pooled. He was smirking - clearly thinking he was already ten moves ahead of you, but you had a couple tricks up your sleeve to win this thing. Well, one trick.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” You finish your glass and get rid of it, the empty wine bottles clanking together somewhere on the floor.

“Well, obviously you are going to lose, so do you want to just give up now, or do we have to play this whole little game first?” Typical. Complete confidence, right from the start.

“Listen, Murdock. One thing you’ll learn about me tonight, is that no matter how incredibly attractive you look right now, I am very competitive. Very. Competitive. Especially when it comes to money, because I am also very broke.” He laughs again, his head hanging back off the couch. “Besides, who says you won’t break first?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take you apart from right here.” His voice has dropped an octave. You recognise that tone in an instant. He only talks to you like that, all commanding and a little mocking; when he’s fucking you. Or about to fuck you. Your whole body reacts to him - you don’t even have a choice in the matter, it’s like a bell rings and you’re switched into that mode. All he needs to do is talk to you like that, and you want to get on your knees and forget all about this stupid bet and-

“Am I right? You think I can make you all sweet and desperate just talking to you?” Yes. He could. He knew it, because he’d done it before, but you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction. Not when the game had barely started.

“Who says we’re just gonna talk?” You settle back, letting your legs stretch just this side of your half of the couch.

“Is that a threat, honey?” The endearment mixed with his slightly rough tone has you tightening every muscle in your body, and if you didn’t get a hold of yourself you might as well just shreds your money now.

“Just got a few ideas, that’s all.” You blink innocently, and he scoffs.

“I promise we’ll do all the things I know your pretty little head is thinking about right now. All you have to do is give in to it.” The way he’s sitting is so cocky; if he wasn’t so fucking sexy you think you’d slap him. Arms stretched out, one dangling over the back, the other strung lazily across his stomach, making a perfect line down to where his legs are spread as wide as possible. You don’t miss how easy it would be for you to slot yourself in to that spot, to be surrounded by him.

“Hmm. Tempting.” He shrugs, almost saying ‘I know.’ “Or, you could come over here.”

“Now why would I do that?” He asks, leaning forward. You start as slow as possible. This was really the only idea you had to get him to break. Maybe if you threatened it, alluded to it enough, he would forget all about the money and the bet and jump on you.

“Maybe I’ve got something to sweeten the deal.” You trail a slow fingertip up your leg, past your knee and creeping it along your thigh. The fabric of your skirt scrunches up as you get higher, and Matt’s head straightens when he hears it.

“What are you doing?” Still, his voice is that low, gravelly sound that sends shivers up your spine, and you bite your lip to stop a smile before answering him.

“You know how wine makes me.” He knew very, very well, being the object of all your wine-induced fantasies. “I’m all hot, and if you aren’t going to help me…”

“Don’t.” He practically growls, and you let out a breathy laugh as you use your other hand to pull up your skirt completely. He may not be able to see you - but he knows exactly what your doing and how your doing it. He can hear the way you’re moving, the skips in your heartbeat as your finger trails higher and higher. The smell of you, how it changes as you get closer to the wetness between your thighs. He knows. And he looks like he hates it.

Jaw set, he grinds his teeth as you ignore his simple demand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you touching yourself - he loved it; encouraged it, even, but he wanted to be there for it. Involved in it. If you ever needed that specific kind of relief, he wanted to be the one to give it to you. Even on the few times he’s been away, he’s sent you videos, called you and made sure he was the only one who pushed you over the edge. His name on your tongue as you came to the thought of him, to his words or his pictures. He always wants to be the one. And he always is.

He also has never not been able to touch you, because if you knew one thing, it’s that Matt Murdock was not a man that shared what was his. Especially not you, even with your own hand.

“Stop.” Matt manages to say, and you hum, relishing in the attention he’s focusing on you. You spread your legs a little wider, making yourself comfortable. “That’s cheating.”

“Nothin’ in the rules about touching myself, Matty.” You breathe, and then gasp as your finger brushes over your most sensitive spot, still covered by your lace underwear. “Unless you want to come over here and make me stop?”

“I know what you’re doing. You’ll have to try a little harder than that, sweetheart.” His face is set so hard, like how you’ve seen him in the court room. Focused, not betraying a single emotion on that sweet face of his. You were going to wipe that stoic look off his face one way or the other.

“I’m gonna take these off.” You narrate, hooking your fingertips under the seam of your underwear, and start to slowly pull them down your legs. As you get about halfway, the fabric bunching over your knees, you sigh sweetly. “Help me out, baby?”

He exhales in a short, sharp laugh. He wasn’t technically touching you, and you both knew it was the closest he could get without forfeiting. Leaning forward, he used one hand to grab the part of your underwear not touching any skin, and starts pulls them down. The soft material slips over your shins and calves, and you know he’s going slow on purpose. You lift your feet up so he can remove them fully, and you watch intently as his thumb brushes over his new prize.

“The purple ones?” He recognises the fabric and you moan out a ‘mhmm’. “My favourite.”

“I know.” You let your legs fall open again, and you could of sworn you heard a small sound come from him at the movement. A crack in the ice. It ignites your confidence, and makes you want to keep going. Keep pushing. “Wore them for you.”

“Such a good girl, all the time. You wouldn’t be this mean. Not to me, right?” The words were sweet as honey. You loved when he spoke to you like that - with praise and a little bit of authority. It made you squirm, but you had to hold it together a bit longer. String him out a little further. You just moan again, your hand finding it’s destination, one finger running up and down in between your legs, brushing over your clit lightly. Just how he teases you. You see his face change. “You’re going to regret this.”

“But it feels so good, Matty.” His grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“Better than me?” You shake your head vehemently, appeasing his ego and moaning a negative incase he can’t figure out your answer from the sound of your movement.

“Nothin’ better than you.”

“I know, baby. Why don’t you let me take care of you? Come just a little closer, and I’ll make it all better.” Your toes curl, and you start to make small, tight circles right over your soft centre, nerves alight and sending shocks up your entire body. His voice is all you’ll need to get there, you just need him to keep talking.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Your jaw falls open, no longer able to hold it together. “Just want you so bad.”

“If you want me so bad, come here.” His tone is a little more demanding. Frustrated. Stubborn. Another crack. You resist the urge to smile.

“Will you- will you tell me? What you’d do if you could touch me?” He sits up, unzipping his pants and shoving them off aggressively. His erection is impossible to ignore, and your mouth waters at the sight of it when he pulls his boxers down and lets himself free.

“That’s what you want? You want me to tell you all the things I’m going to do to you when you break?” You don’t miss the cockiness in his words, but you just moan again, too lost in the feeling of your fingers against your clit. “Fuck. Okay - okay, slow down.”

You listen, obedient even when defiant. He can hear the sounds of your hands against your arousal slow to about half the speed, and the orgasm that was growing in your stomach is now only being stoked, your legs jolting every time you brush against your clit.

“Good fucking girl. I always go slow first, don’t I?”

“Mhmm.” You moan out, and he chuckles. The fucker was laughing at you. Pay back was going to be a bitch. You were really about to give in, then. Not now, though. If he was stubborn, you were going to beat him at that game, too.

“That’s it. Nice and slow for me. Want you all warmed up when you make yourself cum on my cock.” Oh. God - maybe you couldn’t outlast him. It was those kinds of words, sung to you in a voice so low and clear it was impossible to listen to anything else, that was what did it for you. What undid you every time. Fuck being stubborn.

“Oh God, Matt. Please - c-can I go faster?” He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you are mesmerised as he pumps his hand just once, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You can go a little faster. Since you asked me so nice. I’d do it for you.” You speed up, the fire in your tummy getting more aggressive as soon as you indulge the feeling. He pumps up and down once more, and his face screws up a little. Not in pleasure entirely, but something a little uncomfortable. At first you think it might be the situation, but then you look down, and recognise his problem. Your submissive side instantly takes over, your brain only knowing to do what you knew he wants. What he needs.

“You want me to help you, baby?” Matt swallows as he feels you get closer, but nods just once, taking his hand off himself. You hover above him, making sure he can feel the heat of your breath kissing the sensitive head of his cock as you angle down closer. God - what you wouldn’t give to wrap your mouth around him right now. You miss the taste of him - the feel of his hand threaded through your hair, how he tangles himself into it to feel the most of you that he possibly can.

Slowly, you let your spit drip down his length, alleviating the uncomfortable feeling of his dry hand. He doesn’t move, just lets you take your time getting him as wet as you are. Matt’s chest rises and falls so fast you think he might pass out, and his head is hung back so far that you can’t see his face from this angle. You bet it’s screwed up, and his mouth is open a little. He always looks so good when he’s strung out.

You start to retreat, careful not to brush against him as you sit back on your half of the couch, satisfied with your work. His hand wraps around his cock as soon as he feels your body heat move away, and the pain once etched on his face is replaced by only pure pleasure. The sight of him has you quickly returning your hand to your pussy, matching the pace he sets.

“Thank you.” He croaks out, and you silently high five yourself for how fucking ruined he sounds.

“Your welcome.” You sound exactly the same.

“God - I want to fuck you so badly right now.” He sighs, moaning your name as he starts pumping his hand harder, hips bucking irregularly. “You know it’d feel so good.”

“It would. You always fuc-“ You cry out as a wave of pleasure suddenly hits your chest, the new rhythm he was setting on himself having you seeing stars. “Always feel so good. Miss having you inside me.”

“Come here. Now.” He says through his teeth, and you just keep moaning out his name. He tries a new approach. “Baby. Baby, please come here. I’ll -I’ll let you cum so many times you won’t remember your fucking name. Just give it up already. I know you want to.” A new crack of determination nuzzles its way through the overwhelming pleasure at his words. Maybe it’s because it’s not actually Matt touching you right now that you are able to form a thought, but his words have you speeding up. Let you come.

Asshole.

“Fuck, Matty. I’m so cl-close - I think I’m gonna-“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He almost shouts, hand pumping furiously at his cock as he cuts you off. It almost looks like it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but the sounds of his hand moving against himself with your spit is making your brain go fuzzy. Trying your best to keep up with him, your back arches off the couch and you turn your head to the couch cushion.

“Can’t stop, feels too good I just-“ The burn in your arm is secondary to the release you were chasing, and it was so close. You knew what you needed. He had gone silent, because he knew, too. If he spoke, that would be it. He had such a hold on you that all it would take would be a few well placed words and you would crumble in front of him, and for the first time, it was the last thing he wanted.

“Slow down. Right now.” Your back was arching off the couch, and it was an effort not to stretch your legs out. Bunched up on your end, your eyes were glued to Matthew, his abs flexing hard and free hand still fisting the couch, white knuckled. “Do not fucking finish without me.”

The tone of his voice was so low and harsh, he wasn’t meaning to but he was only making it worse. Teetering on the edge, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from talking.

“I wish you were touching me right now. Your hands feel so rough sometimes and I always think about it, think about how good it feels on me.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, the words flowing out of you from the darkest parts of your tipsy mind.

“Baby just-“ His hand gets faster, you can hear it, his restraint snapping little by little. “You just gotta come over here. Please.” You try to block out how hot he sounds begging for a glimpse of you, so you keep talking yourself through it, thinking of the things he would say if he was fucking you.

“I want you to fuck me through this couch, make me feel you for days like you always do. Want you to…” A gasping breath cuts you off, and it takes you a moment to regain your focus, the pleasure nearly cutting off your air supply making you hiccup.

“Finish your sentence. What do you want?” He was sitting straight up, leaning so close that if you moved and inch you’d feel him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him to touch you as badly as you wanted it right now - and that was fucking saying something.

You’d give it one more minute.

You think you can hold out for that long. One single minute of keeping yourself on the edge, one more minute to see if you can break Murdock like he breaks you every time. If you reached a minute and he wasn’t either buried between your legs or inside of you, you think you would implode.

“I- I want you to fuck me like you did when you came home last week. Leave a mark so I could feel it for days and-“

“That’s it. Keep fucking talking.” Your eyes open for a second and he’s kneeling, the hand on the top of the couch right next to your head. You hadn’t even heard him move, but now he was practically hanging over you, almost between your legs. Maybe your words effect him just like his do to you. “You sound so pretty. Keep talking for me, okay?”

“Matty, please just touch me. I need you to mmmmfuck- make me feel good.” He chokes out a desperate sound, and you shut your eyes again, no longer able to bare the sight above you if you couldn’t touch him.

“You need me?” You whine below him, nodding and making sure he knows just how bad he was right. It was a low blow, one you knew would make him even more desperate. Those simple words always got you what you wanted, no matter how long he had been playing with you. “Yeah, you fucking need me. Just need me to touch you so bad. Mark you up. Bet you’d cum as soon as I slid inside you, huh? Already so wet, I can fucking hear it.”

“Need you. Please.” You wheeze, and hear another choked sound leave his mouth. The couch shifts underneath you. Every nerve in your body was begging for him- you were begging for him, a string of pleases mixed with his name. If only either of you was less stubborn this stupid game would have been over long ago.

“You sound good like that. Begging for me. Keep going, tell me how bad you need it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want. Whate- Whatever you want. Just please. Please, please, please…” You sounded like you were having a tantrum, so close on the edge you were almost sobbing his name in ecstasy.

This was it. It probably hadn’t been a minute but you just couldn’t hold out any longer. Fuck the bet, fuck the stupid money. Nothing was worth not feeling him, having him just out of reach, you were so fucking close-

Matt’s hand brushes against your cheek, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, and his thumb wipes away a tear you hadn’t realised had fallen on your cheek. It was soft; gentle.

He kisses you softly, and his hand takes over the work, replacing your own and keeping that hard, tight pace on your clit. The feeling was earth shattering - the difference between your hand and his somehow night and day, and when you kiss him back, you realise he just lost. He lost, not so he could fuck you, but so he could kiss you.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Hm?” He murmurs, the hot air of his breath fanning over your forehead as his hand works at you, and all you could do what sob his name. “Cum for me. I earnt it.”

With that, he slides himself inside of you, and everything turns white.

“Fuck - yes.” You moan out and your cumming as soon as he hits the deepest part of you. He’s suddenly everywhere - an arm under your arched back pulling you against his chest, his mouth on yours muffling your wrecked moans of pleasure, his cock buried inside of you, hitting you hard and fast and desperate; just how you feel.

He isn’t far behind you, giving you exactly what you wanted and finishing inside, so deep you’d feel him for fucking weeks after this. He was making noises you’d never heard from him before - nearly whining with how much he needed you, his whole body tense as you ran your hands over every part you could feel, while your other hand scrunched into his hair.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Is all he was saying into your mouth, fucking you - using you to get through his high while simultaneously working you through yours. His lips moved to your neck, biting and kissing you all over. It was borderline territorial, and you were a whimpering mess underneath him, pinned to the couch taking whatever he wanted to give you and praying for more.

His hips eventually began to stutter in their pace, then slow to a stop- minutes or hours after he came. Time hardly registered, just him finally surrounding you like you’ve been wanting.

“Matt. Matt-“ His mouth was still attached to your neck, and you couldn’t imagine what you looked like, but it filled you with a sort of pride. You almost wanted him to keep going, but you wanted him to kiss you more, so you tugged on the strands of hair threaded in your hands. “Matt. You-“

“I know, baby. Don’t move.” The words echo through you, the command exactly the one you said to him earlier. He slowly slips out of you, never taking his hands off your body, and in one movement curls you up and pulls you completely to his side of the couch.

Finally, you can stretch out, your muscles like jelly as your legs tangle with his. Your head leans back to rest against his chest, which is still rising and falling too fast for normal. Admittedly, so is yours, as well as the occasional twitch in your legs from the pleasure dissipating through your body. Strong arms wrap around your chest and tummy, holding you tight, and he leans his head down to kiss your cheek.

“We are never doing that again.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, and you laugh breathlessly.

“You didn’t like it?” He groans at your question.

“Baby, I fucking loved it, but I hated not being able to touch you.” He was whining now, and your hand snaked up, scratching lightly through his hair. You think he would of purred if he could. “You’re mine. Don’t like it when you try to come without me.”

“Mmm. You were too far away.” You agreed.

“Was hot, though.” You laugh again and he switches sides to kiss your other cheek, forcing you to look to the other side, where your eyes catch on the significant stack of money.

“I won.” You whisper into his ear, smiling, and he groans again.

“Stupid game.” He grumbles, teeth scraping lightly along the top of your shoulder, making you shiver. “Still made you cum.”

“We can always have a re-match.” He was still mumbling and groaning against you about how dumb the idea was, but you can feel his grin as you laugh.

“I got a different game in mind.” He whispers into your ear, and in the next moment you are in the air, being swept up and carried towards your shared bedroom.

“And what’s that?”

“How about I show you?” He kicks the door closed behind him, and lays you down on the bed slow and sweet before making true of his promise and destroying you from the inside out, just like he always did.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x oc #daredevil #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock x y/n #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #charlie cox x you #charlie cox fanfiction

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icarryitin · 4 days

Text

Cross the Line

spencer reid/gn afab!reader

reader is still more or less a blank slate but i wrote this w my fellow thick girlies in mind, love you🧡 have fun defiling a sofa you whores🫡

(this is NOT a part of Can You…? but there is a new part coming next week so !!!)

masterlist

word count: 4.3k // warnings: 18+ pls this is straight up porn, afab reader bc work with what you’ve got, unprotected PIV and all the trimmings including fingering and a sneaky blowjob, too many feelings for something i meant to just be sexy

“This is a really bad idea.”

Oh, don’t you know it. But Spencer isn’t pulling back from you – still very much in your space for a man claiming that he shouldn’t be there in the first place.

Although he’s not touching you, not yet, the tension in the room is stretched so thin that you’re worried it’ll snap. There’s no going back after that. It’s all so fragile, this delicate thing between you, and you’re afraid that one wrong move will shatter it all beyond repair. The heavy rain of the summer thunderstorm pounding against your living room window does nothing to relieve the stifling pressure in the room. You want to tell him that you agree, it’s a very bad idea. You want to tell him goodnight, you’ll see him on Monday, you want to wave him towards the stairs of your apartment building and shut the door on him. Except no sound comes out when you open your mouth. Because you’re wound so tight, only by his proximity, by the warmth that leeches over you from having him so fucking close.

You close your mouth again, clear your throat, and frown at the tiniest twitch of his lips. Smug bastard isn’t a side of him you see often. It suits him, annoyingly.

It takes a gargantuan effort to peel your gaze from his mouth, to lock your eyes on his with an intensity he doesn’t expect. To his credit, he doesn’t falter all that noticeably, the catch of his breath only detectable by the barest shudder of his shoulders – but it’s nice to know you hold the same level of power over him as he does you. Maybe not nice, maybe a little bit dangerous, maybe a little bit like standing too close to the edge of a cliff. Adrenaline thundering through your veins, nerve endings on fire, daring one of you to take the leap. Spencer caves first, the slightest skim of his fingers against yours, and it’s game over.

You have no choice but to kiss that stupid little smile right off his face.

He’s taken by surprise when you surge forward to close the gap between your faces, stumbling a little with the force of it, but he catches you. Of course he does, just like always. This moment has been months in the making – eleven months, nine days, and six hours to be exact. Which he always is. From the second you waltzed into the bullpen with your smile and your eyes and your shiny new badge, and him? He has three PHDs to his name, thinking about a fourth, and yet even just the smell of your laundry detergent can render his mind completely blank of anything but you. He should hate it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pushes forward, pressing his lips to yours with fervour. All he can wonder is why it’s taken so long.

Kissing Spencer Reid is everything. You could do it forever. You probably won’t be that lucky, but you would if he let you. And, while his aversion to touch has never really seemed to apply to you, it’s as though he’s abandoned it completely – the thing about kissing Spencer Reid, you find, is that he’s all hands.

On your cheeks, your jaw, the back of your neck. Sliding down to grip at your upper arms, your elbows. He tugs you in even closer by them until there’s not a breath of air between your bodies. Until he can wind his arms around you completely. Your hands have trailed up to rest on his chest, fairly content to bask in the heat of him and the stuttering of his heartbeat under your fingertips. But it’s like he can’t decide where he wants to hold you. Just that he wants to leave no stone unturned, meticulously cataloguing every inch of your body by touch alone. He probably is, knowing him, committing you to memory. The thought makes you burn, as he grasps at your waist like his life depends on it. He’s not close enough – will never be close enough, you think. His lips part for a moment, just to catch his breath before he dives back in, and you seize the opportunity to lick along the reddened line of them. No, you can’t climb into his body and live there, but sticking your tongue in his mouth is a close second. You’ll just have to live with that.

Spencer’s gasp in response to the intrusion almost makes you draw back, almost. But you can’t go anywhere because he’s on you again, more enthusiastic than he ever was before, backing you up into your apartment. One hand abandons its post on your hip to turn the lock and slide the security chain into place on the front door – safety first, the action is hotter than you’d like to admit – and then it’s back with a vengeance until you’re sure he’s leaving bruises. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Feet shuffle, hands fumble, you almost take the both of you down when the floorboards are interrupted by the lip of the living room rug. But the stumble isn’t worth pulling your face off of Spencer’s, not even for a second. Not until you have to manoeuvre around the coffee table to find the couch anyway.

You mumble a quiet ouch against his lips when the wooden corner of it digs into the back of your knee, and the chuckle you get in response makes your heart grow so big you’re worried it’ll burst your ribcage at the seams. Noses knocking into one another, you turn your face to scowl at the offending item of furniture, but a gentle touch to your jaw coaxes your eyes back to his. And you get it.

This is what everyone means when they say that he looks at you.

Spencer’s eyes are a shade darker in the low light, focused solely on your face. Your lips, your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, he’s studying you like there’s nothing else in the world worth looking at so closely. As if he doesn’t spend most of his working day looking at your face. As if it’s not enough. Even if you weren’t a profiler, the reverence he seems to regard you in would give him away. It’s not the heady pressure of the rolling thunder that’s making you sweat - it’s that look. Because it’s the one you get all the time, reserved just for you. Okay, maybe you had noticed, but you’ve always put it down to wishful thinking. Always had an excuse. It feels more intimate than sticking your tongue in his mouth, looking at him like this. So open, so vulnerable.

He lets you back him up, this time, taking the careful step or two backwards without breaking the eye contact until he can feel the fabric of your couch against his legs. Soft, even through the fabric of his trousers. Spencer expects you’ll feel much the same. There’s no struggle for the upper hand in the quiet of the room. Just the two of you, tentatively taking a step out into the unknown side by side. He lowers himself to sit, couch cushions giving way to his body exactly as softly as he expected, lacing his fingers through yours to take you with him. He doesn’t pull, but you follow him all the same. You let him guide you, settling a thigh either side of his own, balanced carefully on his lap. He won’t let you fall.

“Hi.” His throat is dry - his voice lower, more gravelly than he’s expecting, and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to catch his eyebrows before they can jerk up in surprise.

Your laugh is mesmerising, music to his ears. It washes over him as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks, smoothing his eyebrows with your thumbs.

“Hi,” Your own shaky tone betrays you, just a little, “You okay?”

He’s nodding even as he leans in to kiss you, to inhale you, to drown in you again.

Long fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and the shuddering groan that escapes your lips is absolutely involuntary, but Spencer swallows it without a second thought. Your hands are tight in his hair as his grip wanders to your hips and squeezes – you can’t help but grind down into his lap, feel the hardness of him beneath you. And suddenly, making out like horny teenagers isn’t enough. You have to pull back, however reluctantly, though you don’t stray far.

“Spencer,” You’re breathless, eyes still closed, lips still brushing his with every syllable, “I need you.”

The streetlight shining through the raindrops on the window casts a glow behind your head, Spencer’s heavy lidded eyes fanning it out like a lens flare in a film – like a halo. He’s always thought you had one.

“You have me, you’ve always had me. Are you sure?” He wants to cringe at the question, sure that it’ll send you flying out of his lap, but he has to be certain. He has to know that this isn’t stress relief after the case, that it’s not because he’s right in front of you, that your insides churn every time you look at him the way his tie themselves into knots over you. Your responding smile is fond, one hand sliding down from his hair to swipe your index finger down the length of his nose and he can’t help the upturn of his own lips. In spite of it all, his anxiety dissolves completely, withering and dying under your sincere gaze.

“I’m sure.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

The absence of his hold on you is startling, goosebumps raising on your hips the moment his warm hands move to the buttons of your shirt. To be fair, you’re not much better yourself, already tugging at the knot of his tie until you can slip it over his head. Somewhere in the midst of scrambling fingers and wriggling stiff fabric out of waistbands, you end up buttoning your shirt to his, getting tangled in the both of them when you start wrestling the thing off of his shoulders.

It breaks the tension in the room; the stakes don’t seem quite as high when you’re both wrapped up in your shirts, giggling. Spencer’s dexterous fingers find the culprit, one of your buttons caught in the fastening of one of his, and release it. White and burgundy cotton falling away to reveal you to each other. Dishevelled, grinning, absolutely at ease with one another’s closeness. He looks like he wants to say something else but, whatever it is, he holds it back. You don’t know if things will go beyond tonight, but it’d be worth the mountain of HR paperwork to see him this free even just once more. With anyone else, you might be embarrassed - but this is Spencer.

Spencer, who knows you.

Spencer, who has seen you laugh and cry and scream. You’ve celebrated together, fretted together, grieved together. He’s seen you on your absolute best days, your absolute worst. There’s nothing you’d want to hide from him, so you don’t shy away when he leans forward to latch his lips onto your neck. When he skims his fingers across the skin of your collarbone and leaves a trail of heat and goosebumps behind all at the same time. In much the same way that he preens at your touch, he seems to lean into your hands as you swipe them along his shoulders and down the planes of his chest. Something both known and unknown slots into place. You know what it is, you’re fairly confident he knows what it is, but neither of you will voice it. You don’t think it needs to be. You both know, and that’s enough for now.

At least you don’t get tangled up in anything else, although your jeans fight to the last as they get tugged over your bent knees. You haven’t got the patience to shimmy your underwear off, mostly because he’s already got his hands on you, fingers trailing between your skin and the elastic at your hips. So he’s a tease, now that makes sense.

Lightning fractures the night outside of your darkened window at the same moment Spencer slips his hand down below the elastic of your underwear. His fingers are cold against you, squashed between your weight and his lap, but he manages to swipe them through your folds decisively enough for you to shudder. You’ve already soaked through the cotton, the anticipation had begun the moment he offered to walk you home with that look. Every step since then has only added to your arousal, and it takes no effort at all for him to begin circling your clit with his fingertip. Delicate, deliberate. He’s making you squirm on purpose, wallowing in every whine that escapes your lips and every one you hold back. Your forehead drops to his shoulder as he presses a little more firmly, beginning to alternate between slow circles and dipping his fingers down to tease at your entrance.

You’re so turned on, you think you might die. Genuinely. You’re half convinced that you’re winding closer and closer to a heart attack with every swipe of the good doctor’s fingers against you, that you’ll seize up and go into cardiac arrest at any moment. You need him to do something. You’re teetering on the brink of no return, you need him to push you.

“Spencer.” You breathe as he finally, finally, slides his fingers home inside of you. His thumb takes its place over your clit, digits working gently but relentlessly in tandem with one another.

“I know,” He replies softly, “Just let me make you feel good, okay?”

You can only push your face into his neck, whining in harmony with another crash of thunder from the heavens - you know how they feel. Only your crescendo is still being held at arm's length by the man underneath you. It’s rude, actually. Or hot, knowing he’s so focused on you and your pleasure that everything else has stopped existing to him. You’re not sure which option you’d lean towards. Tears start to sting at your lash line, of frustration, of overstimulation, of pleasure. You’re not sure. At least he notices when one solitary drop escapes to slide over his sternum, trailing down his naked chest. And then he doubles down, you’re not ready for it.

He plays you like a violin until you’re writhing, squirming, panting, until you can’t keep still for even a second. Just to show you that he could have done, this whole time. There’s no warning, no siren, no flashing lights or emergency broadcast - you’re cresting the wave before you even really know what’s happening. Nails digging into his shoulders, hips grinding down of their own accord, beads of sweat breaking out in your hairline. It’s downright cruel that it’s taken so long for you to gather the courage for making a move. Distantly, somewhere in your hazy mind, you hope you haven’t hurt him. At least you had the presence of mind to clamp your mouth shut rather than sinking your teeth into his neck. Another time, maybe.

Your faculties come back to you, slowly but surely, although you don’t find yourself any less insatiable than you were before your jeans found a home on the floor. Spencer catches your lips in a gentle kiss, all too innocent considering he’s pulling a very wet hand out of your underwear at the same time. You can’t pull your eyes away when he pulls back to hold it between your faces, just to watch the glisten of them in the dull light, and runs his tongue up the length of his middle finger. It’s hypnotising. You chase him, knocking his hand out of the way to pull his face to yours again. There’s no air between you, skin on skin, as you kiss him for all he’s worth in the darkness of your living room. The taste of you lingers in his mouth, you don’t mind it. Not if it means you can inhale his every breath. And then, there’s the other thing. It won’t be ignored any further, although you’re sure Spencer would be more than happy to forego his own pleasure, if the blissed out look in his eye is anything to go by.

Still, selfishly, you want to see.

One careful press of your hips into his has his eyes rolling back, head following to rest on the back of the couch. You don’t have the time to mourn his lips against yours, next mission already on track as you let your fingers wander beneath the elastic of his own under. He inhales sharply at the touch, head shooting back up, and locks eyes with you. There’s a challenge in there, somewhere under the apprehension of your next move. You pull your fingers away from him, elastic snapping against his hips, and rake his hair back from his face. Your relationship with Spencer has long since evolved past the need for words, so he knows what you mean when you look at him so carefully - it’s his choice. Another beat, another breath, and he smiles. He nods softly. His face scrunches when you lean forward to press a light kiss on the tip of his nose. It’s all far too innocent considering your hands are skimming back down to breach the band of his underwear, sliding underneath just enough to pull him out and - oh.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were into me.” The joke escapes you before you have a chance to stop it. He’s so hard it must be painful. The tip is flushed pink, giving way to smooth skin and ridged veins - you want him in your mouth. But there’s a nagging throb between your legs, less a want and more a need.

“I’d like to be.”

Your bark of laughter lights up the whole room, the city, the world. Maybe it’s a bit soon, but he wants to hear you laugh like that every day for the rest of his life. He wants to be the reason for it. God, he loves you. That’s what it is, ultimately. He wonders if you can see it in his face, the way he’s watching you, as your laughter dies but your easy smile remains. He isn’t nervous anymore. He doesn’t know why he ever was in the first place, he wants this - wants you, desperately. The decision is made when he grips at your hips again, pulling you up ever so gently onto your knees to hover above him. You pull the crotch of your underwear to the side, the chilled air that hits your slick makes you shudder involuntarily, as your other hand grips him gently to guide him. Spencer lowers you onto him slowly, eyes steady on your face.

It’s moments like this that he’s grateful for the willpower he’s cultivated over the years - because, the moment his cock hits your heat? When the head of him slips into you, when you hold yourself there for a moment, and when you steadily start to work yourself up and down? He’s done for, absolutely gone, already teetering on the edge of oblivion. You take a little more of him every time you sink down again, breathing quickening, until you can seat yourself flush in his lap. A sharp gasp escapes you, punching out of your lungs at the intrusion and he seizes the opportunity to surge forward. He kisses you deeply, a newfound fire burning in the pit of his stomach, and his grip on you turns bruising when you return the passion. Slowly, deeply, he starts to grind you down onto him, swallowing every moan and groan and whimper you let slip.

Though your movements stay steady, he’s hurtling towards his end far sooner than he wants to. Your fingers tangle in his hair, lips on his - not kissing anymore, just panting into each other’s mouths. A sheen of sweat is starting to develop along both of your bodies. Slick skin sliding together, and it feels so good. You feel so good. Hot and wet and tight around him, your scent in his nose, it’s all so overstimulating and nowhere near enough all at the same time. And he starts mumbling it all, tongue loosened by the pleasure, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Soft praises, whines, utter gibberish about how good you feel. He can’t stop, even when you giggle and press butterfly kisses to the words as they leave his lips. He wants to help you let go again, he wants to feel you squeeze around his cock the same way you did around his fingers, but he hasn’t got the presence of mind to do it. Not while he’s hanging over the edge the way he is.

A much more rational part of his mind, somewhere in the back, reminds him that he’s forgone the one cardinal rule of high school sex ed classes. In the spontaneous haste of it all, neither of you thought about a condom. He’s clean, obviously. He trusts you to be clean, obviously. But there’s still the question of where. Because he’s dangerously close and there’s going to come a point where it’s too late to ask. He doesn’t even realise he’s asked the question, in the middle of his mumbled monologue, until you’re answering him with your own question.

“Can I choose?” You interrupt his rambling with a wicked glint in your eye. In all honesty, you’re sure you could ask him anything in this moment, and his answer would be yes. Though, it turns out he’s only got the capacity to nod an affirmative.

“Oh my God…”

That’s all you get when you pull off of him suddenly, sinking to your knees on the carpet in front of him. Whatever it was that might have followed is cut off abruptly by your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

He’s right on the edge, that much is obvious, it won’t take much - and there’s nothing more you want right now than to thoroughly unravel this man. Usually so put together, buttoned up, absolutely falling to pieces under your touch. While he’s a comfortable thickness, you’re not up to trying to swallow the length of him. Frankly, neither of you have the patience to torture him with the preparation it would take, not today at least. So you settle for wrapping your lips around the head, eyes locked on his furrowed brow as he watches you, and suck. Every swipe of your tongue over him drags another groan, gasp, whine of your name. It’s dangerous information, knowing how he sounds when he’s like this. You’re not sure you’ll be able to think of anything else for the rest of your life. Looking him in the eye over the next round table is going to be interesting, to say the least. It only takes one more swirl of your tongue over him to open the floodgates.

You swallow down every last drop he gives you, warm and tangy but not unpleasant, as his spine curves towards you. Another breathless chuckle, and he strokes a finger down the side of your face when you pull off of him with a satisfying pop. Your tongue pokes out automatically, just to prove to him that you did in fact take the lot - just to watch his eyes roll back in his head again.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Spencer’s talking to himself more than he is you, as he hauls you back up and into his lap. Dick softening slowly between you, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you again, to swipe his tongue through the remnants of himself on your lips.

“I’ve been around a while, thanks for noticing.” You’re joking, nipping at his jaw, shifting as the sticky mess between your legs begs you for a quick shower before bed. The amusement on your tongue dies when you open your eyes, to see him watching you again.

“Trust me,” He’s looking at you so earnestly, you’re worried you might cry, “I noticed you a long time ago.”

It’s early when you wake - when the world is bathed in that shade of blue that only seems to exist just before the sun rises. You’re warm. Tethered to the earth by the set of arms wrapped snugly around your middle, by the steady heartbeat beneath the chest where you rest your head. Spencer isn’t awake, not really, not yet. But he shifts as you snuffle in closer under the duvet and tighten your grip in the old Academy t-shirt he’d swiped from your closet. A soft press of lips against your forehead and you sigh contentedly, more than happy to let the morning waste away. Everything else can wait.

Or at least, you want to let it wait - the blaring ringtone of your work phone in the living room puts a relative damper on that particular plan.

“Let it ring.” Comes a tired voice from somewhere above your head. Craning your neck, you spot him blinking and bleary eyed in the morning light, and take a moment to savour it. Him. He turns his gaze to you, tired as it is, and smiles softer than you’ve ever seen. It’s unspoken, a silent agreement made just before sunrise in your bed. Whatever this is, you’re in it together. So you tug the neckline of the t-shirt down, just far enough to plant a kiss in the hollow of his throat before dragging yourself from his warmth to hunt down your screeching phone.

You’re twisting your key in the front door when he plucks up the courage to ask the looming question.

“Are we telling them, or not yet?” Watching fingers tighten around the strap of his messenger bag has your mind hurtling back to the night before, and exactly what those fingers were doing. You shrug, reaching over to untangle his anxious grip and loop his hands through yours. A smile, bright as the rising sun, breaks out on Spencer’s face. You can’t help but mirror it when you answer him.

“That depends on who you want to win the betting pool.”

“There’s a pool?”

fun fact the inspiration for this was i wanted to sit in spencer reid’s lap so now we all get to sit in spencer reid’s lap you’re welcome🧡

#im actually incapable of writing anything that doesn’t involve yearning okay #it has absolutely no bearing on this fic whatsoever but i’m envisioning season 6 spencer here idk why #that’s a lie i DO know why #lou writes #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you

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suugarbabe · 8 months

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okokokok lorenzo berkshire idea??? your writing is so so good you def do him justice 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼☺️

enzo really likes you and all his friends know (maybe reader is in another house .. personally i’m hufflepuff but it really could be any) and they all flirt w you bc his friends know it gets to him and while reader is polite they don’t really encourage(??) the boys’ jokes/flirting bc they only have eyes for enzo too

possibly ending up together !!

i’m turning into such an enzo girly fr 😭💕💕💕 ilhsm

ugh, i have fallen in love with enzo so much, my little lanky broad boy 🥺 also, my requests are closed right now but I wrote it anyway because it was the last thing in my ask before i can get started on my other projects so no worries love x

You weren't really sure what happened, what changed and started making people act differently toward you, but it seemed like for the past two weeks a certain group of boys were paying you more attention.

So here you sat at lunch, deep in conversation with Luna when she suddenly cut you off, "You're being approached again." Her soft tone made it seem nonchalant, but when Mattheo Riddle sat down on the bench next to you the redness in your cheeks was apparent.

"Good morning, Princess. You look absolutely gorgeous this morning," Mattheo grabbed a piece of toast from the pile in front of him before picking up a knife to spread jam over it.

"Thank you, Mattheo, that's very kind of you," You cheeks burned further when he placed the toast on your plate for you before placing a few sausages on it as well.

Mattheo smiled at you, "I know you've got a big test this morning, you should eat well. Though I know you're brilliant so you don't really need any extra help."

You smiled shyly as you took a bite of toast. "Can I walk you to class, beautiful?" You nodded, not seeing a reason to tell him no. He was a gentleman, carrying your books for you, telling you to have a good class before seeing you off through the doorway.

During lunch you were approached again, however by a different member of the same friend group. Theo Nott approached you on your way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ciao, bella," Theo's eyes were definitely captivating. A light sea blue that often spoke all of the emotion he never let his face really tell.

"Hello, Theo," you smiled lightly as the tall boy slowed to your pace. "Could I sit with you at lunch?" His tone was gentle and sweet, so you nodded, giving him permission.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you two entered the hall. If you were more aware of your surroundings, you'd notice Theo chance a side glance toward his own house's table. However you were too in shock that a second boy, a second handsome boy, was not only paying you mind but also eating another meal with you.

Theo was a lot funnier than you expected, making you truly belly, head thrown back laugh. You were surprised that you got along with him, but your humor seemed to be so similar and building off each other.

He asked if he could walk you to your afternoon classes and you accepted. He kept his arms around your shoulders again, continuing to make you laugh the whole way.

After classes were finished and dinner was over with, you and Luna went to the library. You tried your hardest to focus but you couldn't take your mind off of everything the happened earlier today.

"Luna," you called your friends name causing her to look at you, "did you think today was weird?"

Luna smiled happily, "Every day is weird if you look hard enough." You huffed out a sigh, "No, Lunes, I mean, wasn't it weird how nice Mattheo and Theo were to me today. Like, why today? They see me all the time. What's different now. I didn't do my hair differently, what did I do to make them so nice to me?"

Luna sat for a moment, seemingly thinking about her answer, "Are you asking because you think they should be mean to you, or because you wished it was another one of their friends being so nice to you?"

You felt your face pinken for the umpteenth time that day, "Who do you mean? I don't know what you mean..." You knew you sounded unconvincing, but you didn't think you had made it that obvious.

"Lorenzo is actually sitting over there if you want to talk to him," Luna's statement gave you the answer you needed, and also made your stomach fill with butterflies.

But after today, you couldn't hold back any longer. When you got up you saw Enzo a few tables away, his back facing you. You left your belongings at the table with Luna, walking quickly but quietly to where the real boy of your desires resided.

You pulled out the chair across from Enzo, causing him to jump slightly at the sudden movement. When you sat your started immediately speaking, barely giving him time to even register that the girl of his year long affection was finally in front of him.

"Why didn't you come up to me today?" Your question kind of stunned him, Enzo continuing to look at you with a dumbfounded expression.

You let out an exasperated sigh, "Why were two of your closest friends so nice to me today, why did they make me breakfast and walk me to class and put their arms around me?"

The more you spoke of his friends doing, the tighter Enzo's grip was on his quill, tighter and tighter until it finally snapped in his grasp. You let out a small gasp.

"I-I'm sorry. They were doing it to upset me. T-to make me, man up, as they put it," Enzo was playing with the two pieces of his quill, doing anything and everything but looking at you.

You reached across the table, doing your best to cover both his large hands with one of your smaller ones to stop the action. Enzo looked up, meeting your gaze, "Why were they trying to upset you, Enzo?"

Still looking you in the eyes, Enzo took a deep breath, "Well, because I, erm, I fancy you, Y/n. Have for some time. But you're just...Merlin, you're so pretty and whenever I get near you I forget how to speak properly and I lose my train of thought."

You looked at him with a goofy grin, "You think I'm pretty? You...fancy me?"

Enzo mirrored your smile, "Well, yeah. How could I not?" He laced his fingers with yours now.

"Well, then I guess their juvenile plan worked," you traced the top of Enzo's hand with your thumb. When he tilted his head in slight confusion, you gave him a further explanation, "I fancy you too, silly."

Enzo's face made a small 'o' before a huge grin broke over his face, "Do you think that, erm, may then, ehm, you would like to go to Hogsmead with me this weekend?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "I would love to."

"Great, wonderful, fantastic. Okay well, erm, I'm going to, just, go tell the guys if that's okay?" He stood abruptly, making his chair squeak slightly and a few other students look your way.

He was much taller than you now, him standing and you sitting. You had to crane your neck to look up at him properly but you smiled, nodding your head to tell him it was okay to tell his friends.

"Okay, well I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Breakfast together?" he asked, you nodded again, then Enzo did something neither of you expected him to do. He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You knew your face turned red instantly, Enzo's turning a similar shade. As he walked out of the library, you made your way back to your friend.

"So are you and Enzo accompanying Blaise and I these weekend?" Luna asked without looking up from her studies.

"Yeah, yeah we are," you smiled to yourself, still unable to get your work done, but now for a perfectly acceptable reason.

#enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire fluff #enzo berkshire x y/n #enzo berkshire x reader

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wosoamazing · 1 month

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Leah's Return

Part 6 - Fire on Fire Series

A/N: Sorry this one is short, updates may not be as regular in the next few weeks bc Uni is getting a little hectic... (I know I posted one yesterday but I don't know if I 100% like this so I'm just getting it out)

The game today was the one Leah expected to be making her return, it also was the game your parents had decided to come to. There was some irony in that, as your parents were most likely going to ruin a night that was meant to be fun and celebrate the return of Leah. However you ignored the fact they were there, not even looking for them in the stands before the game started.

At 61 minutes Leah was subbed on and the reception was great. The game finished amazingly with Arsenal beating Reading 6-0.

As soon as the whistle blew you ran up to Leah and hugged her.

“You did amazing! I’m so proud of you,” you told her as you patted her on her back, “I have to go speak to them now, but I will see you later,” she nodded as said something along the lines of thank you and good luck before you walked off.

You quickly found your parents in the stands and walked up to them.

“Look at you two playing the supportive parent role”, you said as you greeted them, seeing how they had brand new Arsenal Jerseys on which had your number on them, and to top it all off they had Mum and Dad written across the back.

“Y/N, respect please,” You Dad beckoned,

“I’ll decide how I treat you when you tell me the real reason your here,” you pointedly said

“Can we go somewhere else?” He asked.

“No we are doing this here,” “Well, your father and I are giving you one last chance before we cut you off, you can decide, but there won’t be anymore chances, we will buy you whatever house, wherever you want, and we will pay for all your expenses whilst you study, all you need to do is quit.”

“No,” you reply, looking at her dead in the face.

“No?” They both questioned, expecting you to put up a fight.

“No, I’m not giving up the thing I love. Just to fulfil your wishes and your distorted reality. You didn’t raise me anyway so you cutting me off won't do much harm,” you walked off, and made your way into the locker room, quickly having a shower before you jumped in your car and headed home, to start getting ready for tonight, at least tonight you could drink and forget about it all.

_____

It was later that night and your plan to drink and forget it all had definitely not worked, you hadn’t actually drunk at all, knowing all too well it wasn’t the best idea at all to drown your sorrows but you also felt like shit. You couldn’t believe they came all the way just to cut you off, clearly having no respect for the date that was steadily approaching in two days. You just wanted to go home, however as you were meant to be going home with Leah you didn’t know if that was an option, as this was her night and she should have fun, however as you looked around the bar you noticed Beth and Viv together, so you decided to ask them if they could take you home.

“Can you take me home? I know it’s really early, but I’m just not feeling the best and I don’t want to make Leah leave early.” “Of course, we were thinking of heading off now anyway,” Viv told you and Beth rolled her eyes.

You were sitting in the back seat head resting against the window, when Beth asked if you were okay, and you mumbled a small ‘yeah’ before small soft tears started to roll down your cheeks.

Both women followed you into your home but you didn't question it, you were honestly expecting it, however you just ignored them and walked into your room.

You were scrolling on tik tok when the fifth edit of your parents and you from the game showed up on your screen, with the caption saying how supportive your parents were. Before you could even think you flung your phone out of your hand and it hit the wall

You threw your phone across the room as hot angry tears started to flow down your face.

“Hey, what's going on?” Beth asked as she opened the door, “are you okay?”

“No, but that doesn’t matter, sorry if I scared you, I threw my phone, I didn’t want to see another edit or post of me and them from tonight. People are saying they are supportive, but they aren’t, and I mean I did have my aunts but it’s still different. Knowing your parents are literally throwing millions of dollars at you so that you do what they want. Knowing they disapprove of what you do so much that they would do that. It’s fucked, and it’s fucking unfair,” you took a deep breath before more tears started to stream down your face, “I’m sorry.”

“It is unfair. It is a fucked up situation and you have nothing to be sorry about,” Beth said as she walked up to you, and wrapped her arms around you. You practically collapsed into her, needing any form of comfort. “Should we call Stina?” She questioned

“No,” you had called Stina enough over the past few years, tonight was date night and you weren’t going to interrupt her night, “oh you can go if you want,” you said as you tried to pull out of her arms, getting the sense that she didn’t want to stay.

“No, that's not what I meant. I just didn't know if you would want your best friend or not?”

“No, it's okay, and you're one of my best friends now too,” you admitted, shortly after hearing a sniffle, looking up to see some tears had fallen from Beth’s eyes.

“You’re a fat softy you know that, right?” you told her before pulling her in for a massive hug.

You spent the rest of the evening on the couch with Beth and Viv watching a movie.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #awfc #awfc x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #wosoamazing fireonfire

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darlingofvalyria · 10 months

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❝Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.❞

[ Never piss off your wife. She might acquire a living, breathing punishment for you. Aka, Daemon made a mistake and you're his punishment ft. Rhaenyra stay winning. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 1,985 ] | Daemyra x Sugar Baby!Reader

contains— sugar mommy x sugar baby, open relationship/understandings, toxic relationship??? allusions of cheating, established realtionship - nsfw: oral, p & v sex, v & v sex, pet names mainly: darling, sweet girl, good girl, praise, male masturbation shshhs - you piss the shit outta daemon (as you should), slight angst? - sort of daemon-focused since it's in his pov, but rhae's the only one allowed to touch you lol - no targcest bc its the modern world and that would be weird.

a/n— i dont want to talk about it, okay. comment/reblog/like at will ❤️️

Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.

With your soft noises encouraged to heighten in pleasure whenever Rhaenyra had you over- and after initial test drive of the first few times, stretched in months to weeks to days - she had you over all the time, at random times of the day. Any time the boys or his girls weren't by (being taken care of in the park, Harwin or Laena's visitation rights, Rhaenys wanting to take them off for Corlys weekend fishing trips)- your mewls turned unbridled shouts of pleasure now filled the high-rise.

You permeate the space like a cigarette stain; you didn't even need to be godsdamned present anymore. It starts with your perfume- it's lighter than Rhaenyra's but heavier in sweetness. Vanille. A touch of it that he's foul to recognise. Lipstick stains on his wife's neck, her blouse, where he can imagine your lips drag and bite and suckle because the kids are too young to understand and it's not like he's not one to leave his own marks, but there's a thunderous boil that drums in his veins when he realises you're leaving your own on his wife.

You fill the nooks and crannies like a plague, and you don't even care about him.

Worse, you taunt him.

And it's not like he could say anything to Nyra.

After all, the two of them had an understanding after he got caught with a minor dalliance of his own. It was a one time thing, and he only got blown, but it was enough for a talking to. A mutual agreement that was really just him pacifying his wife.

He really should have focused on the crooks of how upset she had been, on the gleam in her eyes when he thought she had simmered down. That her fire, though not as brightly lit, was still very much burning.

"You can have any sweet thing that you want, husband, as long as you keep them away from the kids. As long as you keep it quiet and away from me. I do not want the details." Nyra's mouth had curled. He remembered. She took up the space behind him, wine-kissed as she was, her fingers dancing on his shoulders and kneading at the tough centre of the nape of his neck. His eyelids fluttered and he barely heard her next words.

"In return, you will not make a fuss when I take mine, hm?"

Daemon had laughed. He remembered that. A soft, more air than sound laugh.

He took her hand to his lips and smirked up at her. Shark-like. Baiting. Daring. "As you wish, wife. In return, you can tell me all about it."

There was a strong part of Daemon that didn't think she'd actually do it.

Rhaenyra had smiled that smile that reminded him of godswoods and Valyrian necklaces, passed down from generation after generation. A silent vow louder drew from blood.

There was a strong part of Daemon who thought his wife was jesting, making a bluff, a toss of a coin.

Until you arrived with a sweet smile and a tinkling little laugh.

Until he had found his wife with her face buried between your legs, your hands— freshly done nails and glimmering rings, new, he later found out from the bank transcripts — and your back arched, your mouth gaping in a silent scream as you come undone.

It took a minute for you to see him, so stuck in that pleasure that broke and free-fell through you several times because 'Nyra didn't want to let up, calling you her sweet girl, her darling girl, that's it, you can take more, can you? aren't you my good girl?

When your thick lashed-eyes finally met his darkened lilac gaze, lipstick still perfect red, still perfectly plump and moist, your mouth curls into a charming little smile and said, "Oh, hello there."

Rhaenyra looked up, and at the smirk on her face, your spend all around her ruined lipstick and chin— Daemon knew she wanted him to see. Wanted him to know. It's a bullet shot down his spine, straight to his cock. It's a cold thrill and grasped fingers around his throat with rings nestled to make indents.

It's a violent blend of jealousy and lust, and the cocktail emotion rages in him, swirls and punctures.

There is a bite between Rhaenyra and Daemon, a fiery edge that often saunters the edges, crosses a new line. But each time, after each rough push, they come back to one another; a tether of becoming, of pulling taunt. Once again united. They are assured in each other's positions; you can play with anyone but you always come back to me.

Rhaenyra has won this one. She had snapped, pulled, and arose victorious.

But they always come together. And often, enjoyed sharing.

What Daemon forgets sometimes is that he is a younger brother, and really, Rhaenyra was the eldest and the sole eye of her father. When righteous selfishness burns with a petty need to make her husband suffer, it heels hard.

"She is mine, husband," she whispers at the edge of his lips, riding him through a slick, sex-haze after you had left. Her thighs slap against his own, his hands harsh on the indents of her waist as she rode him with no abandon, uncaring for his pleasure this time, selfishness the game this time, but the renewed roughness brought him to the early days of their marriage. That unbridled want, a clash of teeth and skin and raw, burning lust.

There is a growl and a hiss, a moan and a gasp; blood has beaded through bitten flesh and bruises are blooming. This is fucking from the high of a third party dancing on their marriage.

And Rhaenyra's refusal of you to him made him throb.

She had seen him high-strung, plotted him to be harder than a box of rocks, already harshly yanking his tie in anticipation of having his wife and you with your fox gazes and sire song, but Rhaenyra had turned away from him, ignored him, and slapped your thigh before kissing your cheek.

"Come back next time, darling, my husband is home." It was said in a tease, a lighthearted joke between two people he was not a part of, but he knew his wife; recognised the bite. The smugness.

And by god, you were in on it as you thrilled a laugh and slid your gaze to his, undressing and fucking him with your eyes as you bit your lip. Your words are to Rhae, a hand on her cheek and a thumb rubbing at the corner of her lip, but your gaze is devouring him. He wasn't a green boy, but you seemed amused and feral for the hard-line of his manhood. As if you can picture what he would feel like buried deep inside your guts, and enjoyed it.

"Am I just going to be yours then, hm?" you asked amusedly, finally turning to her.

Nyra turned her gaze then, to him, and smirked. "You, I will not share. A fitting punishment, don't you think? Some jewels are meant for one alone."

And you had laughed, the gall of you, taking your bag (new one too,a matching one with his wife) and walking right past him. Your scent- his wife's fucking scent, the smell of her cunt on you and his dick throbbed - devoured him as you left him with a wink and a quiet, "too bad."

You had not even gone inside the elevator of their penthouse before a growl tore through his chest and he had met Rhaenyra's thundering footsteps with his own, their tongues and teeth clashing for dominance, ripping apart clothes, wanting to bury each other in the other's skin.

Now, she reaches her peak with a yell and a full body shudder, her cunt clenching and squeezing, demanding his release, and he jolts with her with a swear of his own, his cum flooding her in thick, sharp bursts.

Even then, as Rhae smiled sweetly, post-peak glow simpering her fire, sweetening her kisses against the side of his face, his neck, running a tongue over the worst of the bruises and bites— Daemon thought, surely, now that his wife had reached post-coital bliss and forgiven him, punishment had been had? That he was free to have you, to play with you?

But no. You were off limits. Hers and hers alone. A punishment that keeps on giving as the echoes of you exist in his life in patterns he was starting to fucking loath.

The scent in the bath- the echo of the warmth of someone having used it recently, someone who wasn't his wife, in the pillows of his living room, the barest smudge of makeup as if your face had been pushed against them. In the snacks and drinks that he, nor his wife, nor their children, particularly like, fill up the corners of his kitchen. The lipstick stains on his wife, the running mill in the bank statements (the new necklaces, new dresses, new fucking lingerie he hasn't seen), and when he had finally had enough, shoving through his own house to talk to his wife that the least she could do while she was fucking you was be allowed to be there, he hears it then—

Your shouts of pleasure falling into sighs into giggles, and when he slows to his marital bedroom, you are there— breathing heavily, alive, real— naked and slicked, a goddess divine, with Rhaenyra inside you in more ways than one, baring her teeth in a victorious grin before falling into a laugh at his face.

"Am I allowed to have him now, is that it?" you ask, seemingly innocent. One of the new necklaces in his statements on your neck and nothing else. Chest moving in shuddering breath having just orgasmed and yelling it.

"Your choice, sweet girl," Rhae purrs, leaning back over your form to run a finger from the valley of your breasts to your stomach to your clit that turns your shudders to an outright jolt, then a sigh, when she starts fingering you in front of him. The squelch is obscene, and Daemon is hard, and he is not a fucking boy but he is starting to hate you as much as he wants to fuck the lazy smirk on your face, pleasure so obviously building once again. Soft sighs, mewls, escaping full, raw lips.

"I kind of... want him to watch a little. Just- ah! Nyra there, please - sit still and pretty." You smirk, giving him a pouty air kiss. The urge to strangle you sings in his blood. Hold you down and fuck you until you're better pliant, sweeter, fucking cooing for him. Fuck the spoil Rhaenyra has ingrained in you away.

You turn to the silver-haired woman on top of you, now on her haunches, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. She held his gaze as she pressed her tongue flat against before taking a glorious, heavy-gazed lick.

Daemon swallows.

"Is that- ahhh, okay? Nyra, hmm? Please?" You sigh ever so sweetly, kindly. Though you're ridiculously spoiled, you were a good girl, following so obediently. If his cock didn't feel like it was burning to be inside your mouth, he would have revelled in it.

You squirm, turning back to him to hold his gaze while his wife started to fuck you through her tongue and fingers.

Someone up there was taking a piss on him. He pulls out his cock, a grunt and a curse, because fuck it, fuck you in particular— as the two of you continued on while keeping eye contact with him.

He took one step closer and Rhaenyra hissed.

"Whatever you want, baby." Nyra smirks against your pussy as he tugged at himself, teeth bared. "You're his punishment after all."

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

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I would literally pay you to write a sequel to Humanity’s Most Favored Fantasy where the reader ends up in heaven but goes back cuz she needs everyone to know she's OK and alastor confesses cuz he won't miss the chance twice

A/N It was supposed to be a one off but I can totally make this happen bc I do feel like she would be redeemed. Sorry for so many posts today, I am really trying to get through these requests before the week of midterms I am going to deal with next week followed by a family vacation.

Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Part One: Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader)

Warnings: I don't think there are any but please correct me if I am wrong. A tiny little baby bit of angst?? Idk, man.

Word Count: 1,783

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

"You have to send me back."

Sera watched Heaven's two newest angels with careful consideration. They were each the first of their kind as far as either she or Emily knew, sinners having been redeemed.

"You have to at least let me talk to them!" Y/n pleaded, "Please, Charlie needs to know it worked. This... this place, that hotel, it's her dream. She's been dreaming for this all her life, working for it, giving it everything she has her whole life! She needs to know, she deserves to know."

"I mean, Sera, what harm could it do?" Emily tentatively asked her companion.

Y/n turned, looking back at Sir Pentious for help. Both had died in the battle for the hotel, only to be reborn as angels. They each had sacrificed themselves to Adam and his wrath for the sake of their friends, their newly found family.

The journey to Heaven had changed them. Sir Pentious was decked out in all white and gold, little hearts hidden everywhere over his body because it was his confession to Cheri that had been the final straw, that absolute show of humility in the face of sudden violent fear. Y/n on the other hand had found her angle form very similar to the statues she'd poured over as a human. A chiton hung lightly from her shoulders, her hair pulled up in an imperial Roman style and laurels winding their way around her head and through her hair. She looked positively monumental.

"Please." Y/n turned back to Sera, noting Pentious' hesitation, "You... you have to. Aren't we supposed to be all about fairness? About kindness? About caring for others?"

"She's got a point." Emily hummed, "I think we should give them a portal, at least so they can talk to their friends."

It was now Sir Pentious stepped forward, shaking slightly as he still tried to take in his new surroundings. Unlike Y/n who had disregarded them entirely in favor of the fight she was now picking with the seraphim, Pentious was overwhelmed and confused, completely loosing himself to the situation.

"Um... please, my ladies." he tentatively began before Y/n desperately cut him off.

"We wont ask for anything! Ever again! Right Pen?"

Sir Pentious nodded eagerly, his hands clasped before his chest. Emily turned to Sera, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Come on, Sera! Please!"

Sera sighed. This whole occasion was completely unheard of, totally uncharted territory.

"I suppose."

She would need to talk to God, need to get some form of guidance. For now, allowing the redeemed sinners to speak to their friends didn't seem to be too much of a risk. Emily clapped her hands in excitement, Y/n could have cried.

"Thank you."

Reluctantly, Sera nodded her head in welcome and with a flick of her wrist, a spinning disc of gold appeared in the air.

"Here are the rules." she carefully began, "One, you are not to speak to them where Emily and I cannot see both you and them through the portal. Two, there is a time limit. You get five minutes. Thre-"

"Oh come on, Sera!" Emily cut in, "Isn't that enough? This is their family, they might never get to see them again."

Sera let out another world weary sigh. She didn't have the energy to fight with Emily, it was all too much.

"Fine, fine." she waved the younger seraphim off, "Are you two ready?"

Y/n and Pentious met one another's gaze.

"Yes." Sir Pentious answered for them, "I believe so."

With a snap of Sera's fingers, the center of the glowing disc spread open like the aperture of a camera. The sight that met their eyes caused Y/n to gasp, her hands flying to her mouth.

The hotel looked completely different. Everything was nicer, shinier, bigger than either former sinner had ever seen it.

"The fuck is that?" they heard Cherri ask in her thick, Australian drawl.

"It's us!" Sir Pentious happily replied and in a flash, every member of the hotel was gathered on the other side of the portal.

"Charlie!" Y/n exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks, "Angie! Husker!"

"Y/n? Pen?" Charlie asked, her eyes wide.

"You did it!" Y/n happily replied.

"Where are you guys?" Nifty asked, looking in awe at Y/n and Pentious' stark white surroundings.

"We're in Heaven." Sir Pentious proudly replied.

"Say hi Sera, Emily!"

Emily ducked into view of the others, waving excitedly while Sera stayed put.

"Or... not Sera, I guess." Y/n mumbled, a bit disappointed.

Charlie turned to Vaggie, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and shaking her intensly.

"Vaggie!" she screamed in excitment.

"You did it! I'm so proud of you." Vaggie smiled up at her girlfriend, caressing her cheek gently with one of her hands.

"We did it." Charlie corrected, turning back to Y/n and Sir Pentious, "Oh my gosh, you guys! I'm so..."

Charlie sniffled and Y/n laughed, her eyes soft with care.

"We love you too Charlie. We..."

She turned to Sera, catching the look the seraphim shot her that alerted them to their dwindling time.

"We don't have much time." Sir Pentious finished for Y/n, "We just wanted to let you all know. We had to let you all know. Cheri, my dear?"

Cheri's cheeks flushed pink as Angle elbowed her playfully.

"Uh, yeah?"

Pentious smiled.

"I hope to see you soon."

"Sure. Whatever." Cheri looked away and Husk laughed.

"We hope to see all of you soon." Y/n added and then her face fell.

She hadn't meant to sour the mood with the impossibility of her words. Vaggie put a comforting arm around Charlie and Y/n could have sworn she saw one of Alastor's ears twitch from where he stood at the back of the group.

Alastor had been the only one to say nothing to the pair so far. The portal was growing smaller and the only thing on Y/n's mind was letting everyone at the hotel who she knew she might never get the chance to see again know how grateful she was to have had the opportunity to know them.

Brow furrowed, eyes lightly panicked, she turned to Charlie.

"Charlie, I love you." she announced, tears beginning to pool in her eyes, "I am so grateful for you, for everything you've done. You're an incredible person and I... I'm going to miss you so much. Same with you Vaggie. You are the brightest pair of people of any sort I have ever met."

That was the last straw for Charlie. The demon Princess began to bawl and with Angel and Cheri's help, Vaggie lead her out of sight of the portal. Next, Y/n fixed her gaze on Husk.

"Husker, I don't know if... if you or Nifty even want... it doesn't matter." she took a deep breath, "You are both such incredible people, thank you for being my friends."

Husk smiled sadly at her as Nifty latched onto his leg, hugging it tightly as tears began to fall. Lastly, Y/n turned to look at Alastor.

Out of everyone at the hotel, she knew Alastor the least. They never spoke much and when they were in the same room together, he always seemed to be as far away from her as he could get. It was complicated and confusing, but Y/n still knew none of this would have been possible without his help. She took a deep breath.

"Alastor?"

His ears picked up at the sound of her voice saying his name. Warily, he turned to face her.

Ever since the portal had appeared, his brain had been a rushing mess of thought, his heart a caged bird, trapped in the confines of his chest. He had thought he had lost any hope, any chance. Things had suddenly become much more complicated.

"I know we were never close." Y/n began and his breath caught in his throat, "I just... none of this would have been possible without you. I know you have no interest in redemption and... I wish I had gotten to know you better. You're... even though I don't really know you all to well, I want you to know that I love you all the same."

It was the first time, the very first time, those words had ever been directed from her to him. It felt better than Alastor ever could have imagined.

"I love you too."

The words had left his mouth before he'd really been able to think them through. His cheeks flushed pink at the realization of what he had said, Y/n's eyes widened, her lips slightly parted.

It was strange. Maybe it was because he always avoided her, maybe it was because she thought he hated her. Maybe it was a billion different reasons why she had never considered the idea before but none of those things mattered because she heard his words now, considered them now. Y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to love him back. Not platonically because maybe, just maybe, in this moment, all she wanted to do was reach through the portal and kiss him.

Those were thoughts to deal with later. She would have time later, she didn't now. The portal's closure became faster and Y/n sent a panicked look towards Sera and Emily. They were, however, unyielding in her silent plea and so she turned back to the quickly shrinking image of Alastor, Husk, and Nifty.

"I..." her voice trembled, "Fuck! Alastor, there's no time. I... fuck!"

There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions left unasked. Alastor, to her surprise, broke through her stressed mutterings, fueled by a sudden, wild courage. It was that human part of him, that one remaining spark of light.

"It's alright." he took a step closer, "You don't have to answer I just... I needed you to know. When Adam... when you died, the... nothing mattered anymore. I never thought I'd get the chance to say it, to tell you the truth. I had to, I had... I'm sorry."

"No! Alastor!" She yelled fiercely back at him, her eyes wild and determined as he loved them best, "Never apologize for loving someone. Never apologize for caring. I..."

The portal was almost shut now.

"Come find me!"

In a burst of golden light like phoenix fire, the portal vanished. Y/n was breathless, she turned to Pentious who was smiling brightly.

"He loves me."

He nodded and she giggled giddily.

"He loves me!"

As reality set in, the joy slipped from her face.

"And I'll probably never see him again."

----

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@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog

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