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slttygeto · 9 months

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WHISPERED PROMISES—S. SHINICHIRO

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you meet shinichiro one day when he’s working in his shop. you’re sweet, nice and there’s an obvious tension between you two. you feel like a teenager with the way he’s making you nervous, but you accept to go on a date with him. things only get better from there.

જ⁀➴ content warning: so much fluff i almost cried, fem!reader, you and shin have the biggest crush on each other, he’s so sweet and respectful, eventual smut, mentions of a breeding kink, protected sex, fingering, oral (fem! receiving), pussy whipped shinichiro, dirty talk, lots of kisses, shin has a big dick<3

જ⁀➴word count: 7,9k (lord have mercy)

જ⁀➴note: a great thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again!! I got so carried with this fic, the plot was just so good!!

COMMISSIONS ARE STILL OPEN: 1 SLOT LEFT.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

Working on weekends was Shinichiro’s least favorite thing about his job. He tried his best to make it a good experience, he really did, but he was tired from a long week of working eight hours a day (and sometimes more when there was an emergency). And so, small things got on his nerves.

His lunchbox wouldn’t open, he forgot to pack chopsticks with him, he forgot to put water in his mini-fridge, the air conditioner was barely working—good lord, he was getting so annoyed.

Ring!

Oh great, a customer visiting when he was at his wits ends. Shinichiro stands up from his crouching position next to the bike he was working on. He grabs the rug that was attached to his pants and wipes his hands. He was expecting the usual type of customers; rude, stubborn, the know-it-all who tried to explain to him his own job and how it’s done. All in all, unlikeable.

Though, he is pleasantly surprised when he finds a girl standing at the door, looking around his shop with heart eyes. You looked so lost in your thoughts, your hands gripping your hand bag so tightly (from nervousness? Shinichiro wasn’t sure). Your stance was polite, and you looked in awe at his work. Maybe working today wasn’t such a bad idea if his first customer of the day is someone like you.

He brushes off the thoughts, telling himself that you looked young—no, way too young for someone like him. Plus, he wasn’t exactly the luckiest with girls. He’s had his fair share of hookups, tried to be in relationships, but things just never worked out for him.

He rolls his shoulders as he approaches you, greeting you with a wave. He was tall, had a smile that had you feeling a little dizzy—good god, this man was attractive. Whether it be the way he carried himself, or how he wiped the dirt off his hands, you could tell that he was hardworking and truly loved his job.

“Hi, welcome to our shop.” He really hoped that his voice wouldn’t crack and embarrass him. Technically, it was his shop and he was proud of it. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest out there, but it was his pride and joy. The display of the many bikes that he owned always caught people’s attention outside and left him grinning from ear to ear.

“Hello, thank you, I didn’t think anyone was here,” you were nervous, he could tell by watching you relax and clench your hands more than once.

“Well, someone has to be here,” he jokes and for a second, he can tell you were glad that he did. His playful remark somehow made you relax, and you let out a slightly less nervous giggle (which sounded so fucking adorable).

“You’re right, my bad.” You start looking around the shop again, and the man thinks it’s time to try to get to know you a little better. How can he do that without appearing to be invading your personal space? Should he immediately ask for your name? No, that’s too bold. Maybe…Maybe taking the professional approach will work.

“Can I see your driver’s license?” Very subtle.

You don’t hesitate as you pull it out and hand it to the tall man, and you watch as his eyes scan it for a good five seconds before humming in approval.

You were indeed younger, but only four years younger than him, really fucking attractive. He thought that there is no way you were single, but then again there was no ring on your finger—should he just ask you if you were in a relationship? Nu-uh, too soon.

“Alright, and how can I help you?”

“I am here to fix my friend’s bike for her birthday,”

“Oh you have a biker friend? So you know a little about them?”

“Only the basics, I’m more of an avid fan of the races rather than a participator.” You let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. You weren’t lying, you did enjoy watching more than riding them. But only because you tried before and failed miserably, and you weren’t going to include such embarrassing detail to a handsome stranger.

“Okay, what does she need help with exactly?”

You go into detail of what had happened, and how your friend had stopped riding her motorcycle just because she was too busy saving up money for something else. And with her birthday coming up, you thought you could sneakily get a family member of hers to bring the bike to this particular shop and get it fixed right on time. Shinichiro agrees to help you, and you both settle on the price rather quickly. Now you no longer had a reason to be in the shop, but you didn’t exactly want to leave either.

“You’re not busy?”

“Not at all,” you look at the display of the many fancy motorcycles he owned, letting out a “wow” at how shiny and pretty they looked. He took good care of them.

“My name is Shinichiro, by the way.” He takes his hand out to shake yours and you accept it immediately. You try not to blush at how rough his hand felt, evidence of true hard work. Could he get any more attractive?

“Nice to meet you, Shinichiro,” you grin at the man, and feel him squeeze your hand tightly before relaxing. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but hesitated and thought ‘nevermind’. But the longer you stayed in his shop, the more obvious it was to the man that if you left the shop without his number, he would be the one to call himself a loser. No need for Benkei and Wakasa to do that for him.

“So, uh…” His lips part, his hand comes to the back of his neck and your heart picks up its pace. You could see that the tips of his ears were turning red, and his hand hadn’t let go of yours. “This is a little unprofessional of me…” He mumbles to himself. He sighs and you chuckle and at the dilemma he seems to be in, but that sound alone seems to encourage him to speak more. He wants to hear you laugh again, you seemed very comfortable with what was happening.

“Would you like to go out sometime? I’d like to know you better, you seem like a really nice girl and—“

“Absolutely.” You don’t let him go on with his little ramble, only flash him a nervous grin. The apples of your cheeks were as red as his, and it truly felt like two teenagers confessing to one another. You loved a man that made you feel like this.

“Oh?” He grins back, and his hand slides down from his nape to the back pocket of his jeans. “Great, when are you available?”

“Tomorrow, my place.” Shinichiro almost chokes on his saliva at your words. Your place? It was too early for that, not that he minded—but he wanted to be a gentleman, wait at least a few dates before even trying to get in bed with you—

Sensing that he was malfunctioning, your other hand slides on top of the hand that was holding yours and you squeeze it in reassurance.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I just thought going to a restaurant would be a waste of money—and personally, I love cooking. We can just watch a movie and hang out?” You felt like such a breath of fresh air. Somehow, feeling your skin against his made him immediately relax.

It’s not the idea of coming to your place that scared him, he just always thought you only do that after a while of dating. But here you were, suggesting that an indoor date would be better and cheaper than at a restaurant. Plus, he felt like he could get to know you better if you’re sitting on the couch together alone rather than in a place filled with people.

“I love the idea. So, tomorrow?”

“8PM, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

After exchanging phone numbers, you and Shinichiro practically texted almost all night. You talked about everything and nothing, almost forgetting to send him your location. Turns out, you didn’t really live that far away from his own place, nearly less than a five minute walk.

He was really nervous. He didn’t tell anyone about the date, made up some bullshit of a lie that he was going out for a few hours and his friends were already eyeing him weird. He simply wanted to take his time with you. Your chemistry seemed promising even though you’ve known each other for less than a day.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and if you were going to choose not to go out on a date with him again, he could at least keep it a secret to himself.

Since you were the one cooking tonight, Shinichiro thought it would be rude if he didn’t bring anything with him. So he got a bouquet, brought board games with him and some drinks just in case. He felt stupid for not having asked you beforehand what kind of drinks you liked, but he was almost at your place. No time for regrets.

You had also told him to dress comfortably. You were going to chill in your living room for a while, and you wanted your date to feel as natural as possible. So here he was, dressed in a white hoodie and some grey sweatpants, his hair was still slightly wet from the quick shower he took after getting off work, and he hoped that he wouldn’t catch a cold.

Arriving at your doorstep, the man was more than sure that this was your place. You had a cute doormat with the word ‘WELCOME’ written in bold, along with two huge plants on either side of it. If your doorstep felt this cozy, he could only imagine what the inside looks like.

Knock, knock, knock.

He waits approximately three seconds before he hears the sound of you running barefoot to the doorstep, a muffled “I’m coming!” accompanied with it. You handle a few locks before opening the door, greeting him with the cutest smile he’s ever seen. He doesn’t have time to look at your outfit or tell you how nice you look before you were wrapping your arms around him. You don’t squeeze too tight, but Shinichiro feels you flinch and pull away.

“Oh, sorry! I got too excited—“ you’re blushing—fuck, you’re blushing and he’s getting butterflies in his stomach like a teenager. Shinichiro has been on enough dates to know the difference between feeling nervous and having an absolute crush on his date—it was the latter with you.

“It’s okay, I like hugs,” he places the bag full of goods on the floor and pulls you in another hug, his hand caressing your back gently. He hopes you can’t hear how loud his heart is beating, because then he would be fucked.

“You smell really good,” you mumble against his chest and you feel him hum. He leans down and you can feel his nose on top of your head—this was too intimate for a first date, but neither of you minded.

“You smell like roses,” he lets you pull away from the hug, grinning from ear to ear that his words were getting you to blush this hard.

“Thank you.” So shy, so sweet--

I swear if this doesn’t work out, I’ll never date again.

“Oh how rude of me, please come on in!” You lead him all the way inside, and Shinichiro can finally take a look at your outfit. You were wearing the cutest dress that reached right above your knees, along with a pair of fuzzy socks. You looked so comfortable and adorable, he couldn’t help the smile on his lips.

“Quite the cute outfit,” his tone is playful, it makes you pause what you were doing in the kitchen to give him a playful glare yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I told you I wanted us to feel comfortable. It’s bad enough that my heart is about to explode,” so it wasn’t just him feeling nervous, cool.

“You’re also nervous?”

“Also?” now it’s your turn to sound playful and the man laughs at your antics. He takes a seat on your couch, and waits for you to join him. He looks around your apartment, and takes in how well thought everything seemed to be. From the candles sitting by the tiny coffee table, to the polaroids hanging on the wall—your place felt like a perfect representation of how you were as a person and as a friend; comforting and sweet.

“You got me my favorite drink!” Your excited voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He stares at you and the way your eyes seem to light up at a simple drink. He picked out the flavor very randomly, his thought process was ‘I hope she likes this’ and turns out, you did.

Lucky him. Everything he seemed to do or pick for you aligned perfectly with your preferences. Though, he couldn’t deny that he was eager to learn more about you; what you did for a living, what your favorite pet was, your sleeping schedule, your favorite place to eat—he needed to stop.

You approached the TV and grabbed your remote control before turning around to face him.

“Food is almost ready, wanna watch something in the mean time?” Shinichiro nods and you quickly take a seat next to him on the couch.

“So, what kind of shows are you into?”

The next half hour passes by rather quickly, and you end up not watching anything as you both chat on the couch. He helps you check in on the food when you gasp in horror, thinking that it got burned—but thank god, it didn’t. You talk about your childhood, what you did for a living and how things were going for you. If you had any friends living nearby, where you grew up. You appreciated how attentive the dark haired male sitting on your kitchen stool was, your heart skipped a beat every time he flashed you an adorable grin. You were absolutely doomed.

“How about you though, any friends or family living around you?” You ask as you start serving the pasta on the plates he helped setting on the table. He hums in response, but you think it was directed towards the food and how delicious it looked.

“I have two siblings, a brother and a sister.”

“Younger?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” he quirks an eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders.

“You give off oldest brother vibes,”

“In a good way I hope,” he teases, waiting for you to take a seat facing him.

“An amazing way, you seem very caring and selfless.” You light up the candle sitting in the middle of the table, and Shinichiro tries his best not to stare for too long when you stand up to do it. You were leaning down, the light coming from the candle made you look ten times prettier tonight.

Well, fuck me.

You catch him staring at you, the taller guy almost cooing at how you seemed to blush at his attention. A shy ‘what?’ leaves your lips and Shinichiro shakes his head in response.

“Just—you look so pretty,” he was being honest. He wasn’t trying to scare you away or seem creepy, Shinichiro was just an honest man.

“Oh please—have you seen yourself? You’re so handsome, it should be illegal!”

“Not gonna lie, I am handsome,” you stare at him in disbelief, before breaking into a laugh.

“What? My parents were very beautiful people,”

“Oh, I’m not saying otherwise. It just caught me off guard,” you giggled, grabbing your fork to eat your spaghetti.

“Plus, I look like my mom. It’s my biggest flex,” you notice how he smiles when he mentions his mom, and realize that he used the past tense when referring to his parents. Should you ask him about them or not?

“Were they nice people?” you were thankful that he caught on who you were referring to, and gave you a nod.

“The best.”

Dinner went on very smoothly with you two chatting here and there. There seemed to be no hole in your conversations, and when it suddenly got quiet, you’d immediately fill it with a new topic. Talking to him was just so fun.

He helps you clean the dishes (despite you saying he doesn’t have to) and you learn from standing next to him without your shoes on that he was a rather tall man. His stature was incredibly attractive even with a hoodie on, and he seemed to love dancing while washing the dishes.

“Oh did I tell you I have a niece?” you gasp at the revelation, almost dropping the board game he brought with him.

“You do? Show me!” he immediately whips out his phone and shows you the folder he has dedicated to pictures of him and his niece. He has approximately 500 pictures of her and she’s the sweetest girl ever.

She looks exactly like him, you almost think that he’s lying to you about being her uncle. You can definitely tell that she got her blond hair from her mom (you passed by a few pictures of the little girl with her parents), but she definitely looked like uncle’s favorite girl.

He tells you about her, how she brought some joy to his life a year ago when she was born. You listen to him and admire how his eyes are full of love when speaking of her—this man was the greenest flag you’ve ever met.

“I’d love for you to meet her, y’know if we see each other again,” he hesitates as he says the last sentence, but your hand is immediately wrapped around his arm before you squeeze it reassuringly.

“I would love to meet her,” even if you didn’t explicitly say it, you were hinting that you were looking forward to your next date together. Lucky Shinichiro.

The rest of the night is filled with laughter as you try all the board games he brought with him. Even when you got bored and decided to do something else, the man was down for whatever as long as it meant making you smile and giggle until your stomach was hurting. He loved how you seemed to encourage him whenever he doubted himself, he also noticed that your hand would always land on his back in reassurance when he lost (mostly to tease him, but you still loved feeling his muscular back through the fabric of his hoodie).

It was around 11:30PM when Shin finally decided it was time to head back home, and he had to fight the urge to kiss your lips when you sulked at the realization that it was time for him to leave.

“Man, that was too fast,” you complain as you both walk towards the door, and he chuckles at how whiny you suddenly got.

“Hey, it’s not like we won’t see each other again, yeah?” his hand landed on your back to reassure you the same way you did when he lost, and he noticed how you seemed to melt at his touch.

“Yeah,” you reply in a small voice, shy and suddenly too aware of your loud heartbeat.

Was he going to give you a hug? Kiss you? You were honestly hoping for a kiss, maybe a quick peck?

You were thinking too much.

“Thank you for tonight, I really had so much fun with you,” his hand rested at your shoulder, and you almost melted when he squeezed it. His hand was big and warm, you couldn’t stop thinking of how nice it would feel if you held it, kissed the skin or maybe traced the scars on it.

“I had so much fun too,” you reply, your hand instinctively wrapping itself around his wrist. Your thumb caresses the skin there, and while your heart was telling you that this was the right thing to do, your brain was scolding you for being so forward.

Shinichiro could swear that his heart was about to come out of his throat when your hand wrapped around his wrist. Your warm touch and caring nature had the man feeling dizzy, blushing once again like he’s never felt a woman’s touch before.

“Goodnight,” he pulls you towards him to hug you, grabbing both your arms to wrap them around his waist. This doesn’t necessarily catch you off guard since your brain had been screaming at you to wait for him to do something.

“Goodnight Shinichiro,” your head rests on his chest, a smile adorning your lips. You pull away from the hug a few seconds later, and wait for him to put on his shoes before opening the door for him.

“Text me when you get home,” you say in a low voice, trying not to disturb the neighbors and he nods.

“I will, bye!”

“Bye!” you wave at him, watching his back as he slowly walks away from your apartment. You close the door and stand there for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts. This was by far one of the best first dates you’ve been on. Not only was Shinichiro such a sweetheart, but you had so much fun with him. You felt like you could hang out with him forever, you couldn’t wait for your next date together—fuck, perhaps you were rushing things? Maybe he wanted to wait a couple of days before calling you again, or maybe he won’t call you at all—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Your heart stills at the sound, you almost grab your phone to call the police. But something tells you to open the door anyway, and when you do, two warm hands are grabbing your face and pulling you out of your apartment.

Shinichiro?

“What are you—“

“I wanna kiss you—can I kiss you?” he looks out of breath and his cheeks are pink. You’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he ran, or if he was flustered. But either way, your cheeks are the same color as his when you hear his request.

“Kiss me, please.”

That was all what he needed to hear before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and soft, and he kisses you so passionately that you can feel your head spinning. Your hands are balled up in fists, tightly holding onto the fabric of his hoodie to keep him closer to you. Shinichiro’s bigger frame is obvious when he kisses you, his entire form leans over you and it makes you blush even more.

Your lips move together for a few more moments before you’re both pulling away, the taller male still pressing kisses all over your face before pecking you on the lips one last time.

“Goodnight,” he says one last time, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before walking away from your apartment.

You close the door once again, and for a moment you feel like a main character in a romance drama. You lean your weight against the wall and feel your burning cheeks with your hands.

“Oh… my god,”

Shinichiro was going to be all you could think of for the next few days.

---

After your first date together, you and Shinichiro went on four more dates. Each one had a different vibe to it; at the fair, at a café, another date at your place and the most recent one was a cute lunch date at his bike shop. He fixed your friend’s bike but you also preferred being alone with him rather than outside with a crowd of people. Not that you didn’t appreciate the dates at the fair and the café, you were still feeling giddy from knowing each other, and so it felt more intimate to spend time together like this.

Shinichiro hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, and you were more than okay with it. You could tell he was waiting for the right moment to do it, it was adorable. There were times where it would get quiet between you two and you would find him staring at you so lovingly, it made your heart stutter in your chest.

He was about to come pick you up from your place very soon, and you remember him telling you to wear something comfortable which intrigued you. Where was he taking you exactly?

Soon after, you heard familiar three knocks at your door and almost jumped from the couch. You were so excited to see him, the part of your brain that usually embarrassed you for being so excited for a date was buried somewhere—this was Shinichiro, the same man who hugged and kissed you so passionately on your first date, held your hand at the fair and pecked your lips after winning a teddy bear for you. He got you food when you told him you were too tired to cook, and cleaned your kitchen despite you telling him he didn’t have to.

And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet.

You brushed off the negativity aside, trying to tell yourself that the pit in your stomach was from excitement and not disappointment. He’s been so good to you, just because he was taking too long to make things official didn’t mean he was playing you.

You hoped.

You open the door and is greeted with a good looking Shinichiro. It was dark outside, it was 9PM and so the street light made him look extra attractive.

He always looked good, but this time—wow. He was wearing a leather jacket with some jeans and a white shirt, and he had his helmet in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You tried your best not to blush at the sight of his hair slicked back, but you were so used to turning red in his presence that you just let it happen.

“Well hello there handsome,” you try to tease him, hoping that it makes your blush die down and give you a hint of confidence, but it withers away so fast when he places his helmet on the floor and pulls you into a hug. He smells so fucking good, it should be unfair.

“Hi pretty, ready for our date?” He pulls away from the hug to stare at your outfit and hums when he sees that you’re wearing shorts and a cardigan. “You look adorable.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your red cheek, and chuckles when you look down shyly.

“Thank you,”

“Still shy?” He teases, handing you the bouquet which you hold carefully.

“Shut up, it’s not my fault,” you walk back inside your place and Shinichiro waits for you by the door with his helmet. You put the bouquet of flowers in a vase and fill it with water before putting it on your table. This way, it always felt like a part of him was around you.

“It’s cute,” he flashes you a smile and you have to look away to try to calm your nerves. Making you feel this nervous should be illegal. Did he cast some spell on you?

“Anyway big boy, where are we going?” you walk out of your apartment and close the door, and when you turn around to face the taller guy, he places his helmet on your head and helps adjusting it so that it doesn’t fall off.

“I’m taking you somewhere, do you trust me?” He points at his motorcycle waiting for you both in front of your building and your lips part in awe. He was taking you for a ride on his most treasured possession?

“I do,” he sees that you’re in deep thought and squeezes your shoulder.

“Then let’s go.”

He gets on top of his bike and helps you sit behind him, and at first you hesitate on where to put your hands—until you feel him wrap your arms around his waist and tug you to press your chest on his back.

“Hold on tight, okay?” You could swear he was doing it on purpose, but you don’t think much of it when he’s suddenly speeding away from your apartment building.

It takes you ten minutes to get to your destination, with Shinichiro showing off his skills and laughing when you scream in horror when you get too close to car. You never thought that he would drive so…recklessly, but it was fun. He parks his motorcycle very close to where you were both standing, facing a small lake that you always passed by when going to work. It had pretty cherry trees, and people always took their dogs out on walks or walked with their partners here.

“I love this place,” you whisper, standing close to Shinichiro who chuckles at your words. He knows, you mentioned it before when you were having lunch together.

“I know, you always stare at it when we drive past it,”

He noticed. You almost coo at this, and stare up at the tall man through your eyelashes. Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist and he pulls you closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you pull away from the hug to rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with the same eyes that always had the man weak in the knees. His hand caresses the top of your head as he stares down at you, and it slowly slips from the top to the back of your head.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might just kiss you,” although there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, you could tell he was being serious. And who were you to deny a kiss from him?

“Kiss me, Shin,” the man doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s leaning down to kiss you. You sigh in the kiss, his hands hold your face so gently that it makes you melt into his touch.

When you both pull away, you’re glad that it was dark outside or your faces would’ve given away how flustered you were. He can still tell from your warm cheeks that you were blushing and leans down to give you a quick peck.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” This man was too much for your heart to handle. You thought he was attractive, well-mannered and a gentleman—but this really takes the cake.

You’re excited, giddy that you could finally make things official with him. You’ve been waiting for this day since your first date—and it finally happened.

“Gladly.”

You and Shinichiro were officially girlfriend and boyfriend.

---

Today, you were going to meet Shinichiro’s niece. His sister had asked him if he could babysit her and he agreed, asking her if you could tag along which she agreed to. She wanted to meet you, and you weren’t opposed to the idea. Emma seemed very sweet from the many times Shin mentioned her, and so meeting her didn’t stress you out that much.

You got to Emma and Draken’s place at 5PM, they wanted to go on a date (which was well deserved) and so asking Shinichiro to babysit her seemed like the best option since the baby was in love with him. You greet the couple with a smile, and you watch as Emma shows Shinichiro where the bottles and diapers are, and what to do in case she cried—which he knew about already. His sister was just anxious, and probably felt a little too guilty to be taking some time away from her little girl.

“Have fun!”

Now it was just you, Shin and the little girl. For a one year old, she sure had a lot of personality. And you think that she definitely got it from her uncle. She giggles at everything he does and loves to sit on his lap, but when she noticed you sitting on the couch, her eyes lit up. She was intrigued, and she rarely ever met a new person.

You weren’t a familiar face, but she didn’t cry when you asked Shin if you could hold her. She gladly let you take her in your arms and even giggled and buried her face in your chest when you flashed her a small smile. What an angel.

“Oh are you getting shy on me?” You stand up from the couch with her in your arms and walk to the kitchen to get her one of the snacks her mother had prepared for her. You held her in one arm while the free one grabbed her chair to sit her there.

Shinichiro watched the scene unfold and could feel his body tense up. Whatever it was that had him feeling this… dizzy, he needed to brush it off. You were so good with his niece, so gentle and caring—you talked to her with so much tender and his niece seemed to love you; a complete stranger she just met. You treated her like she was your own baby, changed her diaper and helped getting her to bed, you even gave her a bath and Shinichiro could only imagine what it would be like to have a baby with you.

Watching you walk around your shared apartment with a belly full of his baby, so sore and whiny. You would cuddle up against him and he would feel the baby kick, you would place his hand on your stomach and he would caress the skin lovingly. You would be so needy and horny, grinding against his thigh and he would help you—his pretty little wife, bringing you to an earth shattering orgasm—

Shit, he was getting hard.

He was so relieved when Emma and Draken came back, their daughter was fast asleep and you both were cuddling on the couch. He didn’t realize how rushed his goodbyes were until he felt you tagging at his sleeve in front of the car.

“Shin? Are you okay?” You were worried, his pretty angel so concerned for him, so unaware that the thought of breeding you was all over his mind. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he thought since you’ve already made it official and made out a couple of times, he could tell you what was on his mind.

“Can you come over?”

“To your place?” You tilt your head to the side and Shinichiro nods.

“Spend the night, I need you.”

He needs you.

You felt yourself get dizzy at his words, lips parted in shock. You weren’t taken aback by the fact that he was horny for you, but saying it out loud and sounding so…desperate, you could feel your panties getting embarrassingly wet.

“I’ll give you my hoodie, I can go to your place and get you some clothes I just—“ He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t want you to think that he only cared about his pleasure, not when he knew the night was going to be all about you.

“Shin,” you cut him off, and the man stares down at you. “I need you too, please,”

---

Once at Shinichiro’s place, you didn’t have time to take off your jacket before he was pushing you up against the wall and kissing you so feverishly. You don’t know what set him off, but you weren’t opposed to it. His hands were helping you rid yourself of your jacket before slipping behind your thighs to grip the skin.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, panting and already so out of breath.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, tap my arm, okay?”

So cute. Your response was a moan before you were kissing him again, this time trying to deepen it more than before. Shin taps your butt and asks you to jump, and when you do he wraps your legs around his waist and starts heading towards his bedroom. He kisses you like he means it, and unlike other kisses you’ve shared before, this one has a hint of lust to it—it tastes different; needy, demanding, and you melt into it like butter.

You expect his room to be a little messy, but you’re pleasantly surprised when you see how tidy it is. It smelled of sandalwood and his perfume, bed neatly made. He throws you on top of it like you weigh nothing, and is immediately on top of you after stripping himself of his own jacket. He gets back to kissing you, this time you’re aware of what’s pressing against your thigh and you don’t mind at all—instead, you’re pushing him away from you to sit up on your elbows.

“Are you—“

“Shut up and help me take off my shirt,” Shin’s lips are sealed shut at your words, then he’s doing as told. He helps you take off your shirt and grunts at the sight of you in your bra. Your tits looked gorgeous. He leans down and presses a kiss to the skin below your collarbone, hands sliding up to your shorts to pull them down in on fast movement and you squeal.

“Shin!”

“You don’t mind me getting a little taste first, right?” A blush spreads across your cheeks but you shake your head almost frantically at his words. You wiggle yourself out of your shorts, giving him a little show by letting them hang to your ankle for a moment before throwing them somewhere in his room. You giggle when he leans in and presses a kiss to your calf, but it turns into a moan when he licks all the way up to your inner thigh.

“You wanna tease me, is that it?” His mouth leaves wet kisses all over your inner thighs, before finally getting to your panties. He is shameless as he takes a whiff of your arousal through the damp fabric, and you almost kick him away because of how embarrassing it looks.

“You smell—fucking heavenly, “ he practically moans out the last part, and it makes a shy sound erupt from the back of your throat, looking away from him. But he’s having none of that—not tonight. He wanted you to look him dead in the eyes as he fucked every thought out of your head, wanted to feel you clamp around his dick as he brought you to a mind spinning orgasm.

You gasp when you feel him remove your panties in one swift motion, not even stuttering and hesitating as he balls them up and puts them in his pocket. You couldn’t even ask him what he was going to do with them before he was leaning down and spreading your pussy lips with a breathy moan. He looked so gone and he hasn’t even touched you yet, the sight of him looking so in love with your pussy made your clit throb—which made him audibly grunt.

“You’re a treat,” you don’t respond verbally—you can’t since he immediately wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You inhale sharply at the contact, back arching and jaw going slack when he proceeds to pull away and flatten his tongue on the sensitive bud. Your eyes are rolled to the back of your head when he repeats the same movements—sucks, pulls away, kisses and then licks. It seems like a simple formula, and you can feel yourself getting louder and wetter but you have no care in the world. He’s eating you out so good, he’s showing no signs of stopping and you don’t want him to. Plus, whatever turned him on tonight must’ve made him feral if he was all over you like a mad man.

“Shin—oh fuck, oh baby,” you’re out of breath, your hands are flailing around trying to find where to grip. Until you feel the man between your legs grab your hand and placed them on top of his head. He wanted you to pull his hair, Jesus fuck.

You don’t have time to think properly, not that you can. You’re pulling at Shinichiro’s hair, hips bucking and stuttering with every strong lick on your clit. Your body is arching off the bed, and you sit up with a huff. Shinichiro can tell you’re about to cum when he pushed your body back down and slides in two fingers at a time. He looks up and has to hold himself back from cumming in his pants when he sees the blissed out look on your face—glossy eyes, bruised lips and red cheeks. You were a sight to see.

He helps you reach your orgasm with fast thrusts of his fingers, kissing the inner of your thigh and humming quietly about how well you were doing for him, how you were going to take his dick like a champ, how he can’t wait to stuff your cunt full of him and—

“Fuck!” You cry out, your body stuttering and shuddering as you finally get to cum. You ride out your orgasm by grinding your hips to the same rhythm as Shinichiro’s thrusts, and you whine at him when you can feel him kiss your clit, praising you for doing so well for him.

“My pretty girl, my gorgeous girl—you did so well,” he whispers and kisses your stomach, and you look down at him with lustful eyes and a fucked out expression, which he chuckles at.

Your eyes follow his every move as he gets up from between your legs and walks to his nightstand. He opens a drawer and grabs a condom, and you almost whine at him for that.

“Ah, baby. We gotta be careful,” he soothes you with a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing circles on the skin before traveling down to your lips. He feels like a mad man when you open your mouth and take his thumb in, swirling your tongue around before gently biting it. What a fucking tease.

“Next time, you can do that to my cock, yeah?” He whispers to you and you nod, but your eyes are wide and blown out with lust as you stare down at the visible bulge in his pants. He chuckles at your stare, and gives you a little show as he takes off his shirt—flaunting the body that he has even if it wasn’t the fittest, he was proud of it.

Then he’s wiggling out of his pants, and grins when you reach your hand towards his boxers to palm his hard-on. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I said next time, hm?”

You don’t have time to pout about it before he’s taking off his boxers—and holy shit. He had your mouth watering, but your heart stutters and jumps in your chest at the thought of such a heavy cock inside of you. Shin watches as your expression changes and he chuckles, his cheeks reddening a little. For a man who was so full of confidence a few moments ago, seeing you look so in love with his cock made him feel a little proud.

“Next time when you go on the pill, I’ll fill you up so good,” he rips the condom with his mouth and swiftly places it on his dick, he watches as you eagerly spread your legs to welcome him between them and you nod at his words, even though you’re mainly focused on his cock.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” he lines up the tip with your entrance and you nod desperately, feeling yourself get even more turned on. “You’d like me to cum inside you, watch it leak out of you when we go for rounds?”

You’re a moaning mess by the time he slips it inside. You cling to his shoulders, face scrunched up in pleasure when you’re able to feel the sheer size of him inside you. Holy shit.

“Yeah baby, you won’t even have to work for it,” he adds, sounding out of breath. He pushes your legs up and shamelessly stares at how you’re taking his dick—your pussy swallows him back every time he tries to pull out, almost begs him to keep fucking you.

“Gonna give my pretty girl exactly what she wants—shit, gonna fuck her full of my cum,” your tummy is alive with butterflies at his words, and you stare up at the man who looks so focused on your pussy. Feeling your stare, Shinichiro locks eyes with you and chuckles. He’s all sweaty and fucked out himself, and the smile he flashes you when he starts to drill his cock into you is devilish.

He knew what he was doing, and you weren’t complaining about it. Your body feels on fire with every drive of is hips, fingernails digging into the skin of his back when he reaches that one spongy spot in your walls—you squeal, hands traveling down almost to push his hips away and that’s when he knows he found it and fuck—he starts to bully it.

You’re a sobbing mess, begging for absolutely nothing in particular but you keep chanting ‘please, please, please’ repeatedly, and Shincihiro has to lean down and kiss you. He soothes you with his lips, a heavy contrast to his mean thrusts. He’s fucking every thought out of your brain, and by the time you’re even able to come up with a coherent sentence, he pushes a single leg up on his shoulders—and your entire body seizes up.

You’re cumming hard around him, your jaw has gone slack and Shinichiro doesn’t stop. The bed shakes with every harsh thrust, and by the time you’re able to breathe again, you’re letting out a small scream at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Atta girl—fuuuuck, gonna make me cum,” he whines out the last part, his hands pinning your hips down to the mattress. You cry out from overstimulation, your pussy aching for him to slow down.

“Just a bit more baby, just a little—“ It only takes a few strokes for him to empty himself in the condom, reaching down to rest his forehead on your shoulder. You’re both a sweaty, panting mess, clinging onto each other as though you were one another’s life line. And even through heavy breaths, you kiss Shinichiro’s cheek, giggling when you see him smile.

“Are you okay?” He kisses your shoulder lovingly, letting his lips travel up to your neck where he feels you hum. You look down at him, letting your fingers brush the sweaty strands out of his face.

“Never been better,” Shinichiro grins at this, and he fixes himself until he’s able to kiss you properly on the lips. He makes it short and sweet, trying his best not to get carried away again because he knew you were definitely sore.

“Come on, you gotta get up and pee, darling.”

“And shower… I feel so sticky,” you make a face at the word sticky and the man above you chuckles at this.

“I like you like this, you smell like me.”

“Shin!”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fluff #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #tr shinichiro #tokrev shinichiro #shinichiro smut #shinichiro fluff #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x y/n

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sporadicbeans82 · 1 month

Text

Pool Party || Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You have a crush on a certain someone who seems intent on ignoring you. Your teammates decide to do something about the tension between you and Jessie.

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), It's a little smutty?, Grinding/Semi public sexual content?, Mutual pining, maybe a swear word, a smidge of angst if you squint, mostly fluff, no editing so good luck soldiers

Word Count: 3.5k words

A/N: I'm not really sure what this is, but enjoy?

From the second that you’d met Jessie Fleming, you’d been trying to figure out ways to get closer to her. Of course, you found her to be incredibly attractive and had known of her existence ever since you’d faced off against the Canadian midfielder in a friendly. It had been an especially important game for you, as you’d made your senior international debut that very day.

That day, and every day since, the way Jessie played entranced you. Everywhere you stepped, the girl was your shadow, slipping in front of you and intercepting balls that were sent your way, and then zig-zagging around you whenever you tried to take that ball back. The girl had been a pain in your ass in that game, to say the least, but it had been a massive learning experience for you, and it had lit a passionate fire inside of you.

As you’d gone up against her again and again, you found more reasons to like the girl. The way her cheeks reddened as she played, and the physicality she showed in her playing style. However, it became more than that– the respect and kindness with which she approached other players and fans, and the way she interacted with a child in her jersey, lifting them up to take a picture with them and sign their jersey. The more you played with the girl, the more you noticed about her, and the more you wished you knew more.

After a few games of playing against each other, you managed to gather up the courage to ask to swap shirts after the match. Jessie had given you a hug, shyly congratulating you on your performance. You noticed that, under the scent of sweat and grass, the girl smelled of cinnamon, and her embrace was warm.

You were shocked that night when your phone had pinged from your nightstand on your bedside table. You’d leaned over to check, and saw a notification that Jessie had followed you (back) on Instagram. You were nearly over the moon, the grin which split your face open quickly noticed by your teammates around you. You were quickly the butt of many jokes and teasing words, but you didn’t mind as Jessie had followed you back.

Did that mean you were friends? Were you overthinking it? You were totally overthinking it. You contemplated sending Jessie a message, maybe congratulating her for how she’d played, but you never gathered the courage that was required to perform such a daunting task.

You’d always thought that your little crush would be just that, a crush. Admiring the girl from afar, but never getting close enough to get to know her in a way that would turn the crush into something more. You’d accepted that long ago, having almost moved on from Jessie and the childish crush you’d had on her.

However, the announcement that Jessie was coming into the NWSL, to your very team, shocked you to your core. You would have been lying if you’d said you still didn’t have feelings for her, although you managed to push them out of the way to make room for… friendlier feelings. Now that you were, essentially, coworkers, you felt that it would have been inappropriate to harbor the same crush that you’d had over the years, especially as you were certain that it wasn’t returned.

While you knew that Jessie didn’t have the same feelings towards you that you had for her, you were still confused as to why she almost acted as if you didn’t… exist. She brushed off each of your attempts to go out and explore the city together and show her around. She would give you small smiles every time you greeted her each morning for training, but rarely returned your greeting. In the rare occasion that she was paired with you in training, the girl rarely even looked at you, nevermind speak.

You would have believed that Jessie’s attitude was due to her being new to the team, but she was getting along quite well with the rest of your teammates. Fairly enough, she spent much of her time with her fellow Canadians, Christine Sinclair and Janine Beckie.

However, she was often found talking with Sophia Smith or juggling with Olivia. She was rather friendly with quite literally everybody on the team… everybody but you.

Your mind pondered listlessly over what you could have done to upset Jessie. You couldn’t remember having made any reckless tackles on her, or said anything rude to her on the field. Sure, you had a reputation for both… but you hadn’t done either to Jessie. Sure, maybe you’d told one of her teammates (you think it was Cloé Lacasse?) to shove her boot where the sun doesn’t shine after it had clipped your shin as she’d tried to snap the ball away from you. But it wasn’t as if you’d said anything overly criminal to Jessie herself, or even to any of her teammates.

Weeks went by in the same manner, with you quietly pining over Jessie whilst simultaneously trying to figure out what you’d done to upset her. What you didn’t know, however, was that Jessie was having almost a similar internal debate as you.

She’d noticed during the game that you’d debuted for the United States Women’s National Team. She never would have admitted it then, but you’d given her a run for her money despite it being your first time competing internationally. Jessie had had to pull out all of her stops to keep you from slipping past her, and she’d finished the match absolutely exhausted.

Since that match, she’d kept a careful eye on you and your development– both as a player and a person. She watched as you grew out of your shell, into an opponent who was consistently relied upon by your teams. She noted how you gained confidence in the way you played, taking risks that a younger you would have shuddered at and they worked each and every time.

Jessie couldn’t deny that any time one of your highlight reels or edits popped up on her phone, she’d watch the entire thing through.

Sometimes, if the… music… was really good, she’d watch it a few times. Purely to take notes on your tactics, of course, not because she wanted to take in every ounce of your existence that she could on the pixelated phone screen. Totally not because, sometimes, and only sometimes, your eyes made Jessie’s stomach do flips and turns in her stomach, or that your smile made Jessie feel almost… lightheaded.

She actually despised herself for how long it had taken her to follow you back on Instagram, since she rarely used the app and had never seen that you’d followed her in the first place. It had taken a search for your name for your page to come up, and she’d felt almost… giddy, when she saw that you’d already followed her.

Jessie wasn’t stupid, she knew that the way she felt about you was more than purely platonic. When she came to Portland, she knew that she needed to bury those feelings that she had for you, as there was no way that you’d feel the same back.

And so, she tried to remain nonchalant when she interacted with you. She smiled at you, nodding in greeting when you said hello to her each morning, and she made sure that the relationship between the two of you was like one between coworkers.

And so the two of you continued, quietly pining for the other. Your teammates were growing tired, having long ago noticed how you’d stare at Jessie and look away when Jessie looked towards you. Jessie would do the same, zoning out as she looked at you and quickly diverting her gaze whenever you’d turn to look at Jessie. Your teammates felt the tension between the two of you, and it was, admittedly, a little bit awkward for the others.

It was Sophia’s idea to have a team bonding night to see if they could get you two, and the rest of the team, a little bit closer. You weren’t even sure whose house you were at, but you were instructed to bring a swimming suit, as you were having a day out in their pool.

Of course, you forgot a swim suit… and nearly died when you arrived just as Jessie was doing a cannonball into the pool, causing a wave of water to cascade down onto her Canadian teammates, who all looked displeased. Jessie stuck her tongue out at them from inside of the pool before treading water to get to the side.

She used her arms to hoist herself out of the pool, and your mouth grew dry. You actually raised your hand and wiped at your chin to make sure you weren’t salivating. You cleared your throat awkwardly as you caught sight of Jessie’s hard abdomen and muscular arms as she pulled herself free of the water.

Diverting your attention elsewhere, you could feel how heated your cheeks were, and Sophia caught sight of you from across the pool. She smirked, before making her way over to you.

“You made it! I wasn’t sure you were even coming, you sure took your time.” Sophia’s words were light, teasing. You smiled at her, feeling suddenly shy after Jessie’s unintentional… show, you supposed. How did one achieve the arms and abs of a Goddess? You wondered if you should ask Jessie, because there was no way someone could look that good without even trying and, quite honestly, you wondered how her muscles and silky skin would feel beneath your ha-

“If you’re going to pass out on me, give me a heads up so I can record it, please.” Someone snarked, breaking you out of your reverie. You turned to see another of your teammates, Olivia Moultrie, grinning at you.

Behind Olivia, you watched as Jessie did a flip into the pool, the move causing your stomach to do its own flips. Your cheeks managed to redden impossibly further, and you shook your head slowly. Have flips always been so attractive? You never remembered having been so captivated by-

“Not gonna pass out.” You mumbled, and Sophia frowned.

“It’s pretty warm out today, are you sure? Maybe you should hop in the water, just in case.” Sophia said, voice almost… faux in its concern. Your brows furrowed, and you shook your head again.

“No– I’m oka-”

Hands were on your shoulders, pushing you towards the pool. Before you knew what was happening, you were being shoved into the pool. You shouted out as the ground disappeared from beneath your feet, not at all having been ready to take a plunge into the water.

You fumbled around, hands slapping uselessly at the water. That was the other issue that you’d never mentioned– you didn’t know how to swim. Nobody had ever bothered teaching you, and by the time you’d realized that it would have been a useful skill to have learned, you were utterly consumed in soccer and it was too late.

You kicked uselessly at the water, unable to keep your head above the water long enough to catch anything more than a short gasp of air before you were underwater again. Against your will, you were panicking. Your lungs were burning, legs burning and stomach heaving as you fought feebly against gravity and the liquid which was keeping you from air.

Then, strong arms were around your middle, dragging you up. Your head broke the surface of the water, and you coughed out as you were finally able to take a deep breath of fresh air. You tried to kick out, to get out of the water, but the arms around your stomach just held you tighter. You were pulled against a hard body, and someone was breathing harshly in your ear. Over the scent of chlorine, you smelled cinnamon, and as the person spoke you felt yourself relax against them.

“Hey, hey I’ve got you. Calm down. You can touch the ground here. It’s not too deep.” Almost… tentatively, you allowed your feet to reach out and touch the ground. Instantly, you grew embarrassed, having nearly drowned in water that was barely reaching your chest. You’d panicked, and immediately you started apologizing to Jessie, who had just been forced to “rescue” you from four feet of chlorinated water.

What a way to impress your crush. You were a loser.

From above, you saw Sophia appearing a little sheepish, giving you a little smile as she waited to see what your reaction was to being pushed in the water by her. You glared at her, shaking your head.

“A little warning next time would be nice.” You said, and you heard Jessie huff out a short laugh from behind you. You would have done anything to hear that noise again. In fact, you were trying to push all of your attention onto Sophia so that you could avoid thinking about Jessie’s skin on yours, her arms still wrapped firmly around you. You felt safe.

“It’s not like I expected you to drown in four feet of water!” Sophia defended herself, trying arduously to decipher whether you were truly angry or not. You knew that the girl had meant no harm and, after all, it had been a pool party. You had expected to get wet, and you should have had your suit, and it wasn’t as though she knew you couldn’t swim– it wasn’t a fact you bragged about, of course. In that moment, you decided to forgive Sophia, and Jessie swore she fell for you a little more.

You could have, and had every right to, rip Sophia a new one for shoving you into the water, but you’d chosen not to. Instead, you laughed off the event, and Sophia appeared to calm down as well, laughing with you.

Then, Sophia dismissed herself, saying she was going to go grab a towel for you.

The rest of your teammates had forgotten all about you already, consumed in their own antics. Now, it was just you and Jessie. Jessie, whose arms were still wrapped around you.

Before you could lose courage, you turned yourself around so that you were facing the black haired girl. If you wanted to, you could have leaned in just the barest amount and kissed Jessie. Something told you that she wouldn’t have minded, if the way she looked down to your lips as you turned was anything to go by.

Instead, you spoke.

“Thank you– for saving me.” The words were pathetic, causing your cheeks to redden again. Jessie laughed a little, the sound setting off the butterflies in your gut once more, something which you felt was a constant when it came to the Canadian midfielder.

“I’d hardly call that saving. It was like watching a fish drown in water!” You frowned at the analogy, glaring at the girl and catching her eyes. You knew what drowning felt like, having felt like you were drowning only a few minutes before.

Even still, the way you got lost in Jessie’s gaze was an entirely unique way of drowning, and one that you would have happily drowned in any day.

“I thought I was drowning!” You defended yourself, voice rising in pitch as you laughed a little bit. You felt Jessie’s chest rise and fall as she breathed, so close that the two of you were practically breathing the same air. The thought was driving you nearly mad, so close to everything you’d been thinking about since you’d ever met the girl, nearly unable to hold yourself back.

“Clearly! You looked like you were drowning, too.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes nearly teasingly, and when your gaze returned to Jessie, you realized she was back to staring at your lips.

“Is there something on my face?” You asked, and Jessie swallowed, throat bobbing in a way that conveyed intense nervousness at the question you’d posed.

Jessie had spent years pining over you, had swallowed down her feelings and pushed them to the side more times than she would ever be able to count. She’d done it in the name of her career, and in the name of her team.

Now, however, she wanted to do something for herself. She had forgotten about the people who surrounded the pool, her new teammates who weren’t really paying attention to the two people in the pool anyway.

Jessie’s soft hand came up to cup your cheek, and her eyes met yours again.

“Just a really pretty pair of eyes, and a gorgeous face, and really kissable lips. Speaking of– could I-” Jessie was, as always, cursing herself for how incredibly awkward she sounded. She’d wanted to sound suave, and cool, and calm and collected but her heart was beating like a jackhammer in her chest, so loud that she felt you could hear it if you were paying attention.

As it had it, you were busy paying attention to your own heart, which was threatening to beat right out of your chest. You were wondering if you were having a heart attack as you allowed your hands to loop around Jessie’s neck, clasping behind her head and tugging her into you further.

Just before your lips met, you whispered. “Please, do.”

And so Jessie did. Your lips met, and everything in the background seemed to blend into nothingness. You almost felt like you were back underwater with how everything faded but Jessie. All you knew was the feeling of Jessie’s lips against yours, moving fluidly against your lips.

Hers were smooth, and she sucked on your bottom lips gently as her other hand stroked at the skin of your hip, having strayed beneath your t-shirt. The kiss was gentle, and a little bit reserved, and a part of you would later be mortified at how you were making out with a “coworker” in front of your other “coworkers” but another part of you knew that you’d waited so, so long for this moment that you were completely unwilling to live more of your life without experiencing a kiss with Jessie.

It was short, so much shorter than you wanted it to be. However, as you pulled away, Jessie’s cheeks were red and she looked at you almost… shyly.

“Yeah, we’re going to have to do that again,” You decided for the both of you, and Jessie nodded eagerly, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the steps of the pool. “Where are we going?”

Jessie continued to tug you behind her, around the corner of Sophia’s house and towards a shadier area, away from prying eyes. As soon as everyone else’s gazes were off of you, Jessie was tugging you into her, turning so that you were pressed up against the fence.

“We’re doing that again, of course.” Jessie said, before pressing her lips back against yours.

Her lips were firm against yours, taking and taking and taking from you as, once again, she sucked and nipped at your bottom lip. She swallowed a moan that escaped your lips, making sure to keep quiet despite the loud music which boomed from a speaker where the rest of your teammates were.

Pressing up against you, Jessie ran her hands up and down your sides, tongue slipping into your mouth as you parted your lips again. The pleasure that you felt was immeasurable. Everywhere Jessie touched was alit in flames, and you felt like you were on fire.

Jessie’s tongue slid against your own, exploring you in a way that she’d never had the chance to do before, and which she planned to do again and again and again.

Before Jessie could really think, her knee was pressing up against you, between your legs. Her thigh was flexed, meeting the area where you throbbed for her, and another moan burst from your lips.

You rolled your hips against her, the friction rubbing deliciously where you needed it most, and Jessie swallowed yet another moan from your lips. You knew that you couldn't get too carried away, given that your teammates were only a few feet away, separated by a wall. However, you couldn't help it.

Jessie had basically lost all sense of control by now, but as she heard someone ask where the two of you had gone, she was quick to back up. You were panting, but had also heard Sophia ask where you’d gone off to.

Jessie stepped into your personal space again, fixing your wet shirt and pants for you before planting a firm, but quick, kiss against your lips.

“How about we go out for dinner tonight? We can… talk about this.” Jessie, despite having you completely desperate and wanting for her minutes ago, was back to being awkward and uncertain. You nodded slowly, leaning over and planting a kiss to her cheek before the two of you reappeared from behind Sophia’s house.

Sophia glanced at the two of you, before a sly smile grew on her face as she realized that her carefully plotted plan had worked, taking in your reddened cheeks and disheveled states. After handing you a towel to dry off with, Sophia was quick to pull out her phone and text her separate group chat with just a few of your teammates.

Soph: “Operation Pool Party: Success”

#jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #nwsl #woso one shot #harper writes

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fruitmins · 8 months

Text

Agust Dad—One

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: mentions of vomit and throwing up, pregnancy, maybe some ptsd, you kinda have anxiety

note: life has been hectic so at first this might seem all over the place. bare with me, it gets better

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh

Something in you had always known you would cross paths with him again. As much as you hated the thought, you just had to accept some of the facts. You two worked in the same field, you were bound to run into each other now and then.

You’d imagine different scenarios and even wrote things down of what to say when you eventually bumped into him months later. You had time to think about what to do or how to act.

Or so you thought.

One thing you didn’t expect was that the confrontation would take place so soon. As soon as only a three weeks later, when you were informed that HYBE LABELS had bought the company you were under. All the artists and staff were to merge together and become one, including you.

You thought it was a joke at first, but quickly realized the gravity of the situation—you were now working under HYBE LABELS, which meant working under him. You knew there was no way out, which only made your anxiety increase.

There was a sick, sinking feeling in your gut when you heard that news. You knew that the likelihood of bumping into him would increase dramatically, and your worst fears were confirmed. Despite your years of experience and success, you were forced to merge together under the HYBE banner. Your own music and creative process was now under their control. Not only that— but you would be forced to work in the company with him.

There were sure to be upsides to this change but your mind was clouded. The thought of having to be in the same room as him again was terrifying and all you could think of.

It was nearly impossible to completely avoid him, especially when he seemed to be everywhere you looked. You couldn’t even go to the cafeteria without running into photos of him on the wall, along with other HYBE artists.

You started noticing things around the building, signs of him. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was all in your head. Of course, when you realized just how often you were thinking about him, you knew it wasn’t.

You’d been working for HYBE LABELS for a week now, and it seems like your hopes of avoiding him were quickly diminishing. Despite this, you were doing as well as you could given the circumstances. The staff was welcoming, and you were beginning to feel at home. You even had a few friends at the office, and managed to enjoy work when the thought of him wasn’t consuming you. Though it seems that he was always on the back of your mind.

As your luck would have it, only a week into the new building and you were already creating a mess. Literally. You had been feeling queasy for the past couple days and that already shook you. You figured it was your nerves making your stomach nauseous, but since you hadn’t physically threw up since you were little and had a giant fear of throwing up, you thought it would simply go away.

Yet here you were, life getting worse as you hurled over the trashcan in your office. Your hair was a mess and tears were in your eyes as the sinking feeling came back once again. Your throat burned and even though you barley ate anything the whole day, you just couldn’t stop throwing up to save your life. It was almost as if it was a reflex. You felt light headed, tears streaming down your face and your throat on fire.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

A familiar voice spoke just a couple feet from you. You gagged as you heard the familiar voice, thinking that this was just a nightmare and you needed to wake up. But as you glanced over at the entrance of your office you saw exactly who you expected.

Kim Seokjin.

Yoongi’s bandmate and older brother.

“You look terrible! Let’s get you to the hospital.” He said quickly when the two of you made eye contact. You quickly shake your head, not wanting to bother him and definitely not wanting there to be a bigger possibility that you’d bump into Yoongi.

You were shocked at his quick response to help you. You assumed it was just a small sickness you had been experiencing since returning to work under HYBE LABELS, but he insisted you go straight to the hospital. His tone had changed; there was a sense of urgency in the way he spoke.

“I-I’m fine.” You spoke, your voice shivered and weak which only made him walk a faster inside your office and towards you.

“Please,” he rolled his eyes at your words. “You look terrified. Let me help you.” He said, already helping you up to your feet and carrying the horrible smelling trashcan with him.

As much as you wanted to decline the help, he was persistent. He didn’t want to leave as you continued to feel sick, worried that you may throw up again. It was a mortifying situation all around.

So he guided you out of the building and to his car. “Isn’t this dangerous? We could be seen like this. Aren’t you already in a relationship?” You speak, looking up at him with worried eyes but he just laughs and flashing a smile at you.

“Wow~ Someone keeps up with the media.” He says teasingly and your face flashes red with embarrassment as your eyes widen. You had been a fan of BTS for a while, and kept up with them from time to time when you weren’t busy. You knew all of their songs by heart and even have some BT21 merchandise which made what happened with Yoongi even more embarrassing.

“I’m kidding,” Jin waves you off as he steps in his car and puts on a mask and hat. “We should be fine.” He says and it was only after a few minutes that you finally managed to calm down. Your cheeks still red from embarrassment as you looked up at Jin.

You managed to get through the whole car ride to the hospital without throwing up in his car, which you were thankful for. You two made small conversation, as he drove his kindness and concern melted you inside.

You ended up telling him about how you were from the other company and recently joined, and you also told him that you briefly worked with Yoongi on a song of his. He ended up playing it right then in the car and praised you the whole time. It was comforting but also made the incident even more embarrassing since Jin was so close to Yoongi.

Finally you arrived at the hospital and Jin tired his best to calm your nerves as you did the paperwork and waited for a doctor to come look at you.

Your eyes widen when someone called your name and both you and Jin stood up.

“Please, you’ve helped me enough and you’re probably super busy.” You try to deny his help once again, Jin’s relationship with Yoongi still crossing your mind but caring about his job as well.

"Ah, it's no problem~ I was only working on the last drafts of my single, I can always get to that later." Jin says before looking around the waiting-room. "Besides, I gave you a ride here. I’m not going to abandon you.” He says sweetly, looking straight into your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded. You had to admit that his kindness has warmed your heart after weeks of feeling terrible and alone. Jin was different. He stayed there until you were all cleaned up and took some blood and urine test in the bathroom. It was so embarrassing, but he was so genuine in his kindness.

After several minutes of waiting, the doctor finally comes back into the room, a clipboard in hand.

"Good news Ms Y/N. I've gotten the test back and I've found out why you’re feeling ill." She starts as you grip to every word and Jin listens quietly too. "There seems to be high levels of human chorionic gonadotropin or hGC in your blood and urine."

She pauses giving you a moment to digest her words and when you show no reaction she explains further. "HGC is made only when a woman is pregnant. The most being when that woman is in the first trimester. Congratulations, you’re about four weeks pregnant."

Your heart sank. Being pregnant was not on your plans at all, and now you had to deal with that while working in close proximity with your ex and his bandmate.

You had no idea how to respond. You were speechless. Part of you was in too much shock to process what happened, your face going pale the more you thought about it.

You knew good and well who the father was.

Yoongi was a famous idol, you two were now in the same company which was forbidden and made everything worse. If news got out that you were possibly caring his child you’d lose your job and most likely get attacked on social media.

Before you knew it, you would be a jobless single mother. What were you supposed to do?

“Wow, congratulations.” Jin’s voice pulls you back from your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed that the doctor had left the room until you look up from the floor.

You make eye contact with Jin and realize his gaze never left you. He had to know something was wrong by your reaction, and the slightly narrower eyebrows of concern made that clear.

The fact that Jin had no idea who the father was made this a million times worse. Here he was putting his Could you really tell him it was his bandmate?

Guilt swam in your stomach, making it do flips and turns as you looked at him, not knowing what to say. Just praying that you wouldn’t have to see Jin ever again.

But as it seemed, bumping into someone you were actively trying to avoid seemed to be a hidden skill of yours.

“Y/N?”

Your feet stop dead in your tracks when you hear your name, your back turned to the voice that you immediately recognized.

Your heart thumps in your ears, deafening you slightly as it beats so hard in your chest that you think it might burst out. Your breathing immediately gets heavy as you start to panic.

You think back to all the nights alone. All the mornings you spent crying while listening to his voice. All the pain and regret you felt whenever you even thought about him.

The thought alone makes you nauseous, and you almost stumble when suddenly he is right behind you and manages to catch you before you can tilt to the side.

His quickly and smoothly wraps his hand around your waist to catch you, supporting your body weight as he pressed himself up against you. He felt so strong as he held you upright, supporting your weight and keeping you on your feet. Your knees buckle from under you as you realized how close he was. Your bodies pressed together, his breath against your ear.

Everything reminds you of that night, except this time there’s a huge difference now.

You quickly try to push him away from you but you’re undoubtedly more weaker than he is. He grips your arms and turns you to face him, his eyes boring into your while your stomach begins to flip. You can smell him and finally get to see all the features you once worshipped. It’s unreal how the more he aged the better he began to look, even if his features stayed the same.

Yoongi.

His black hair wasn’t nearly as long as it was now and he looked a little more fit but tired at the same time. All the memories of that night come flooding back to you like a terrible nightmare.

“Oh, Y/N! Hey!” Jin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts just like he did two week ago when you first found out. This time when you pull away from Yoongi, he lets you and takes a step back as Jin catches up to the two of you.

“Hey..” You say nervously, giving him an awkward smile that doesn’t even compare to the bright smile Jin is giving you.

Yoongi raise an eyebrow at the two of you, but before he can even ask how you know each other, Jin speaks again.

“Oh Y/N, how’s the morning sickness treating you?”

You can hear glass shattering in the back of your mind as You and Yoongi make eye contact.

#bts fanfic #bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts one shot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #suga x you #suga x y/n #bts stranger to lovers #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic recs #bts dad au #bts pregnancy #bts ot7

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portgasdwrld · 7 months

Note

Remember those og youtube challenges where beauty gurus had their s/os doing their makeup? Ok so maybe the crew were invited to some luxurious island or something and reader injured their arm prior to this event, so entrusted their beauty routine to the strawhats? I know nami & robin won’t let us down, but I’m so ready for the guys to mess us up. 💄 - 🩵

Hii love, how are you!!? Love the idea once again🫶🏻🫶🏻

📂Strawhats doing your make-up for an event

Luffy

He was so excited to learn about what make up was and how to help you with it!

He was listening to your explanation with big eyes and attentive ears

When it came to actually do it, he tried his best to focus, but it ended up looking goofy asf 💀

The eyebrows were overdrawn, the eyeshadow was not blended at all, the eyeliner wing was wonky

You looked like a fun experience of make up that’s for sure, a kid drawing at best

You didn’t want to hurt his feeling telling him it looked bad, so you said it was fine

He left satisfied proud of himself

It looked better done by you even with your handicap 😭

He tried tho 😭🫶🏻

Usopp

He was hella confident, saying he knew some skills from Kaya, so he totallyyyy got it.

The moment he got his hand on your make-up your brushes, he totally freaked out and didn’t know where to start. He forgot everything she taught him.

He admitted he was lost with embarrassment, but instantly relaxed when you chuckled reassuring him and helped him through it.

He actually really did a great job. Well expected from the artist and snipper of the crew, his abilities for details didn’t disappoint.

You ask him to help you from now on, when you’re having a bad make-up day🚶🏻‍♀️

Zoro

Man was lost lost. He glared at you like “why the fuck are you asking me?”

He said no and walked away, but you whined telling him the others were busy getting ready and he was already done so it was the least he could do.

He stayed firm on his position, but only agreed when you brought up, you could bribe Nami into reducing his debts towards her.

Kinda worked?

He did a horrible job :/

We love you Zoro but make up isn’t quite for you😔

Sanji

He was sooooo down for it. He was smiling so hard and was lowkey dreaming about being able to help you with your make-up routine.

When you asked, he accepted immediately, even cutting you off mid-sentence

He was already on his way to prepare some snacks for you while he helps you out.

He was listening to you very carefully, not wanting to miss out on any of your indications and ruin it.

He was so good and gentle with it?? He was blushing like crazy, being so close to your face, but he got the job done.

He would softly ask you if this was alright and if you liked it. Always asking for feedback so it’s at your liking. Never felt annoyed when you asked to redo something. He was so nice and cool about it which made the experience so enjoyable.

You loved it sm & gave him a big hug that got him on a good mood for the rest of the day☹️💕

Nami

When you asked her, she totally understood on the spot and sat you on a chair close to her.

Before she started, she asked you what was your vision and what you wanted basically.

She gave you advice on what would look best on your facial features, and what would go along with your outfit.

It felt like a professional session, she super focused

Y'all spoke about fashion the whole time and she was so enthusiastic and hyped about the whole thing

She gossiped about who could possibly be there at the event and if there was gonna be anything worth doing, stealing

the end result was so good, it was even better than you imagined it

10/10 would recommend again

Robin

She nodded and asked you to sit somewhere

After she got a general idea of what you wanted she started to work on your make-up at first silently, trying to build the base

As she saw time was running out, she used her devil fruit power to make it quicker and do both side at the same time.

You made a joke about her power being useful and she chuckled before agreeing

she started to speak about her DF and how as she grew up, she kept finding uses to it

It was really a nice and almost healing time

Robin felt like an older sister doing your make up as Nami had more of that best friend vibe

She even fixed your hair to make sure your look was completed and proposed you look through her accessories if you wanted

love her !!!

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tacticaldiary · 8 months

Text

To Coax The Love From A Ghost

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Fluff (Mentions of Hurt/Comfort)

A gentle brush of knuckles sitting next to each other on the planes to and from ops, a feeling so starkly different from the grit of gravel and the bite of sand that it almost sends him crumbling, because Simon cannot remember the last time he's felt something gentle.

A/N: Something soft after the trauma of the last two fics I put you through- Enjoy!

Masterlist

Loving Simon Riley is like coaxing a grumpy cat out of it's shell.

Time, peace offerings, and showings of trust are what win him over. She'd recognised it since day one, the distrustful way he'd greeted her, the kindness he was capable of locked behind iron bars forged from the gruelling lessons his past had taught him.

It had taken time.

Gentle smiles, so at odds with the scrapes and bruises he was used to. Time ticked away, chipping off that icy exterior to shape to let loose an ease to his shoulders that becomes almost instinctual whenever he sees her. Seconds turn to minutes, which turn to hours and days but not once had she halted her attempts at showing him that there was more to love than apprehension and inevitable loss.

Light seeps through the cracks of the doors he's welded shut, introducing an inkling of what warmth he might be able to have if only he lets her in. He wants to, he's just not sure how, and with this new sprout of...of hope? Simon thinks he may just need to learn

It had taken peace offerings.

The extra pudding cup she offers him at lunch in the mess hall, because she knows he likes them even if he's never expressed it, and it's startling because never has a person been so in tune with each breath that Simon inhales, the gravity of each exhale. She offers it to him with a smile that leaves his gaze lingering for just a second too long, the brilliance of someone he did not deserve to infect with the malevolence that is etched into his very being.

He accepts the sweet gifts every time just so he can feel the goodness of her seep into him when they brush fingers, hoping that it would be enough to satiate him. It never is.

It had taken showings of trust.

Every time she lets her head rest on his shoulder when she nods off in a Humvee, Ghost's heart picks up at the astonishment that she trusts him. Trusts him enough to be this vulnerable even after knowing exactly how much blood stains his gloved hands. It's the same feeling watching the dawn of a new day elicits, the warm feeling of waking up after hours of sleeping huddled in the cold.

She had given him a residence in her own space, personal and intimate in a way that made him want to turn his back the first few times she offered. Silent hours shared in her room, indulging in the quiet, whether that be the droning of the television in the background, or the scratching of graphite on paper as they did their paperwork together.

It was such a strange thing, to be let into someone's life so seamlessly. Ghost had lived in his quarters for more than a few years, yet in mere weeks her room had become more of a home than he'd ever hoped to experience again. He had once thought of her as naïve to let such a creature tainted by the grim semblance of his own actions into her life without caution, but after a beat, he noted that everything she did was intentional.

Leaving the door open for him a crack, a silent invitation. Tossing the giant throw pillow he likes to lean against on the floor where they sat together, having that special black pen he prefers to sign documents with sat idly on her desk. Intentional. All of it meaningful, sweet, and solely for him.

It had taken her goodness to break him.

Finally he snaps, has had enough with his mind and his heart at war, going at each other all day. Part of him urged him to keep to himself, to push her away because what need was there to drag someone so wholly her into everything that was so miserably him.

Another part of him is selfish. It aches and groans and whispers at him to take, love and be loved.

The word used to frighten him until she molded it into a sculpture that he could admire without feeling the urge to avert his eyes.

When he finds her this time, she has this knowing smile on her face, a kind glint in her eyes that he has no business indulging in.

She waits for him to approach, patiently, as if one sudden move would send him skittering away like a deer. She's so sweet, smells of honey and cinnamon and his. There's no other way to describe it.

Etched into the stone tablets of fate, inscribed into part of their souls twisted together with strings that drip with blood but are still red, he thinks that she might have been his all along.

The first press of their lips is tentative. And he can't get enough. Not when his heart is full and his mind quiets down to a pleased, content hum.

The welded door creaks open, sunlight and cinnamon spilling into the room and snapping whatever doubts he had away. Simon tangles a hand into her hair and takes. He takes and takes and takes, and with the way she smiles against his lips, slides into his lap, he thinks she might have been waiting for him to take as well. She'd been willing to give, all along.

Simon can't remember a time he's felt contentedness this pure.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(24/08/2023)

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sweetsweetjellybean · 1 year

Note

20. Okay so this is totally for myself. But I’ve found out that it is so so so hard for me to cum from guys like I’ve never cum with guys. Anyways because of this reader doesn’t want to have sex with Steve because we all know he has experience and she feels embarrassed. So each time it gets close she just jumps away and makes a random excuse. One day he sits her down to talk about and she’s like well it just takes me a lot to cum and I don’t mind helping you but I prob won’t get off and didn’t want to disappoint you and our Stevie boi is like fuck yeah challenge accepted. And idk what to do from there because this is my situation and I just need a Stevie to have patience with me and help me 🥺

I love you so much

Alright, kitten. I changed around a few things but I hope you like it.

Come Together | Steve Harrington

TW: Fem Reader, Soft boyfriend Steve, Smut, creampie

"Tell me, sweetheart. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Whatever it is, we can figure it out," Steve says, lightly brushing his fingers along your heated cheek.

Tightening your arms around your knees, you rub your feet nervously over the quilted bedspread that covers your bed. Steve asked you out a month ago, and you've been seeing each other ever since. And God, you really liked him. Ever the gentleman, he hasn't tried to pressure you into anything physical. Everything that has happened between you has been something you wanted.

The problem is you. You can't cum, not by your hand and certainly not by anyone else's. The only time you've ever had an orgasm is with your vibrator, which is hidden in a little bag in your nightstand drawer. Friends have told you it's not a big deal, lots of women need a little extra stimulation to finish, but for you, it was the kiss of death in your previous relationships. Guys took it like some kind of challenge, and things between you fizzle out when it doesn't happen. So whenever things turn hot and heavy with Steve, you distract him with a blowjob and end the night.

But that doesn't seem to be cutting it anymore. He wants to touch you, to fuck you, and you know if you let him, it will be the beginning of the end. He's felt how you tense up when his fingers trace over your panties. He's also felt the wetness. He knows you want him, and he doesn't understand. If you don't come clean, you might lose him anyway.

He's leaning on his elbow stretched out across your bed, shirtless, the button of jeans already opened, a lock of hair falling over his forehead, and his hazel eyes studying your face. Grabbing one of your pillows, you hold it against your face as you admit your problem.

"I can't hear you with a pillow over your face," he chuckles, pulling it out of your hands.

"I don't have orgasms," you end up almost shouting, and you can feel the blood rushing to your face. His eyes widen, but he lets you tell him the entire sordid tale without interrupting.

"So, I can go down on you or whatever you'd like, but you don't have to try to...reciprocate," you finish. In your experience, this is where he takes the blowjob and doesn't call. There's an ache in your chest at the thought of losing Steve. It hasn't been that long, but there is something between you, like a flower that hasn't yet bloomed, delicate, and growing towards the sun.

He blows out a breath and rubs his hand through his hair, "I really like you," he says, taking your hand, "Like really like you, but I don't want to just get off and leave. I want whatever we do to be something we can share together. I'm not gonna be some kind of jackass and act like I know your body better than you do. But maybe there is another way to approach this? Is this something we can talk about?"

"Yeah, okay," your voice comes out small and shaky.

He presses a kiss to your knuckles before he continues, "Does it feel good when I touch you?"

Letting out a breath you didn't know you had been holding, you nod your head and lick your lips, "It feels really good."

One side of his mouth raises in a soft smile, "You make me feel good too," he leans forward, brushing his lips softly over yours, "I might not be able to make you cum, but I want to touch you and make you feel good, will you let me?" His smoldering eyes hold yours with such intensity you can't imagine ever denying him.

"Please," you sigh, your mouth already drifting towards him.

He closes the gap between you, his plush lips covering yours in absolutely no rush, tasting you, letting his tongue tangle with yours, stealing your breath and filling you up with his. He kisses you until your sighs have turned to moans, and your hands wander up and down his chest.

"You are so beautiful," he tells you, with a dreamy look on his face as he brushes your mouth with his thumb, "Can I see more of you?" his hand moves to the hem of your shirt, fingers dipping underneath rubbing the soft skin of your stomach.

"Yes," a warmth floods your core, "Can…can I see you too?"

He nods, returning his mouth to yours. Clothes come off between kisses, scattered and forgotten on the floor. His hands glide over your skin, leaving tingling trails behind while his warm chest presses you into the mattress, the bristly hair rubbing against your hard nipples.

"Tell me what feels good, okay? I want to hear it," he says, kissing his way down the column of your neck, pausing every so often to suck and lick the sensitive skin.

"That feels good," you moan and feel his cock jump against your thigh. He's enjoying you without expectations, and knowing that adds a layer of trust you hadn't felt before.

When he cups your breast, and his mouth closes over your nipple, you pant and arch into him. Little electric jolts under your skin send shivers through your body as he sucks your nipple into a hard peak. "Steve…" you gasp, unable to finish your sentence.

"Does my girl like having her tits sucked?" he asks while his hands knead your breasts.

"Yes," your hands run through his hair, holding him to you as his lips work your other breast. The things he's saying and the soft groans at your responses are turning you on just as much as the attention he's giving your body. Wetness coats your thighs as you rub them together, trying to find some relief for your aching core.

"Where else do you want my mouth?" He works his way down your chest and kisses the ridge of your hip, "tell me, sweetheart," he slides his hand up and down your thigh moving closer to your center with each pass.

"My pussy…I want your mouth on my pussy," you move up to your elbows, the look on his face, his blown-out eyes, has you throbbing. Your words are getting bolder, and your confidence grows as you watch him grinding his hips into the mattress.

His hands move to the inside of your thighs, spreading you open, "You're so wet. Is this for me?" he asks, kissing your puffy folds before his tongue darts out to kitten-lick your clit.

"It's for you, Steve. It feels so good," the wanton noises you make spur him on. He adds more pressure and takes longer licks teasing your pulsing entrance before reaching your swollen bundle of nerves, your hips shoot off the bed when his lips suction around it. He holds you in place as he relentlessly sucks your clit, something you can't remember anyone doing in the past. Your head is dizzy and fogged with pleasure when he releases you and moves back up your body.

"I want you to show me," he slides his tongue into your mouth, and you taste yourself on his lips. "Show me what you do when you're alone. Where's your vibrator?" he asks before going back to kissing you.

His request has you tensing up, but he kisses you through it, running his hands softly over your pussy and up your stomach to your breasts. He asks you again once you've relaxed, and you direct him to your nightstand.

"I want to make you feel good now," you protest slightly as your small bullet slips out of the bag into the palm of his big hand.

"Trust me," he says, passing you the toy, "seeing you like this is making me feel good. I want to watch you, baby," he leans on his side and spits in his hand before stroking himself. His saliva mixes with the cum leaking from the red tip of his cock, making his slow motions smooth as he waits for you to join him.

More slick drips from your entrance, and pleasure spreads throughout your body when you press the vibrating toy to your clit.

"This feels so good," he says, dipping his head to kiss you, his movements speeding up, "You've got me so hard and needy for you," he groans when you start rocking your hips, "Tell me how it feels."

"So good," you mewl, sloppily returning his kiss.

"Can I finger you?" his hand moves from his cock to your thigh.

"Mmmm, yeah," you sigh, pressing the toy down harder.

His finger swirls around your entrance, coating him in slick before he slowly pushes into you, "You're so tight," a pleased hum follows his words as he moves in and out of you.

The slight stretch, the added sensation, has you aching, you want more from him, you want him to fill you, "Steve, I want you inside me."

His motions falter, but he quickly recovers, "I am inside you," he knows what you want, but he wants to hear you say it.

"Please. Will you fuck me?" you desperately plead.

"Goddamm," he groans, kissing you frantically, "I want to so much. Are you sure?"

"Yes. I need you," you confess.

He's up in a flash, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you to the edge of the bed. His eagerness makes you smile, but the want in his eyes quickly increases your need for him.

He glides himself through your folds, gathering your wetness, "I want you to keep touching yourself. I'm going to go nice and slow. Let me know what you need. Even if you want me to stop, okay?"

"Okay," you nod, his tenderness adding an ache to your heart that matches the one in your core.

He hisses as he pushes inside you. The intense stretch has you throwing your head back, a slight sting mixing with your pleasure. He's bigger than anyone you've been with, and he makes room inside you that hadn't existed before. A cry leaves your lips when he hits a spot you didn't know was there.

"Did that hurt? Are you okay?" his voice is full of concern as he rubs the outside of your thigh.

"No. It felt good. Really good. I didn't…no one has ever..," you trail off and grip his wrist with your free hand, hoping he understands.

"You feel so good. You're so tight wrapped around me, and that buzz feels good, too," he keeps still inside you, giving you time to adjust.

"You like it? You're not just doing it for me?" the question has been on your mind since you started. A slight pang of guilt has been echoing through your thoughts.

"Are you kidding? It feels really good. This is so hot. It's for both of us," he begins to gently stroke into you," You're so sexy right now. I'm thinking about basketball, so I don't cum."

His admission pushes away any last doubts, you turn up the speed on the vibrator and start rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

"That's it, baby. Take what you want," he's watching himself disappear inside you, breathing raggedly, muscles straining with the effort to keep a gentle, steady pace. His cock slowly drags back and forth against your walls, hitting that spot every time, but it's not enough-you want more.

"Harder. Don't hold back. I want all of you," you pant, reaching for him. He leans forward, capturing your mouth as he drives his hips into you. Passionate noises fill the room as you get lost in the pleasure you share.

"Is this okay? It's not too much?" he asks softly in your ear.

"It's more than okay. Nothing has ever felt this good," you whisper back, kissing along his temple.

"Fuck, you don't know what you're doing to me. I'm not going to last much longer. Can I cum inside you?" his hips piston, rubbing that place inside you faster, harder. He wants to fill you, claim you.

An exquisite feeling builds in your tummy, and you feel yourself tightening around him," Steve," you moan, bucking your hips erratically, "cum inside me. Oh, fuck," the curse flies past your lips as you realize you're hurtling towards climax.

"Yeah, baby, I'm gonna..holy shit, you're getting so tight. You're squeezing me…are you gonna cum?" his strokes are getting sloppily. He's staying inside you longer between thrusts, driving in deeper.

"Don't stop," is all you manage to say. It's all you're able to think as you climb higher.

"Let go. I won't stop. We're going to cum together," his gentle words push you over the edge. Ecstasy washes over you as you cum harder than you ever have alone. He groans loudly as your inner muscles milk him, triggering his release. He fills you up with his warmth as your body trembles uncontrollably around him. His movements slow, but he doesn't stop thrusting until he softens inside you, coaxing out every last wave of your orgasm.

"You're incredible," he pants, resting his forehead against yours, reveling in his bliss.

With closed eyes, you press kisses to any bit of skin you can reach as you float down, enjoying the little shocks still going off inside.

"Are you still with me?" he asks, brushing the damp hair back from your face. His expression is full of adoration as you open your eyes and smile at him.

"When can we do that again?"

♡♡♡

If you've enjoyed this fic, please reblog. It makes a big difference in helping others find my work.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #boyfriend steve #Jelly's requests

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jhoneybees · 4 months

Text

Little Nurse in Charge

Finally I'm posting another fic! I've been really missing the experience of writing so I'm getting my fogged up brain to work again lol there might be a few errors and misspelt words😅

Characters: Late60s/70sCG! Elvis X little!reader

Warnings/triggers: Age regression, little lifestyle, sickness

This is honestly my favourite moodboard🥹👇

Elvis had a long, stressful week. His schedule was hectic, being rushed from one place to another and doing a lot of recording and such was really taking a toll on him. You being his beloved partner, you worry about him. Everytime you would suggest for him to get some rest, he’d just brush it off and say he can handle it in which seeing him fall asleep in a millisecond the moment he flops onto the bed after a jam-packed day at the recording studio tells you otherwise.

Once Elvis finally gets some time off, the next morning he wakes up sore all over also having a scratchy throat, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he realises. Detangling himself out of the bedsheets , he pushes on the mattress with his knuckles and makes his way to the bathroom to find something for this “stupid cold” he mutters to himself, he stops in his tracks when he hears you stir in your sleep. Turning his head, Elvis watches your eyes flutter open, blinking blankly at him a few times before your eyebrows start to furrow and a pout forms. He sighs softly, you woke up little. Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose whilst resting a hand on his hip. How is he gonna take care of his sick self while also looking after little you? He already feels like a sack of potatoes that's been knocked about on the back of a farm truck so having to make sure your needs are met is gonna be a tough challenge, he never says no to being a caregiver for you though, he always takes up the challenge.

Elvis walks back over to the bed when you do grabby hands and he weakly chuckles “Mornin’ baby” leaning down to kiss your forehead, you respond wiggling closer to him and wrapping tired limp arms around his lower abdomen. Elvis smiles and strokes a strand of hair away from your face “Did ya get a good sleep?” answering with a small nod “Good sleep, daddy” you say while burying your face in the side of his thigh making him chuckle but he suddenly clears his throat which you didn't take notice of. “Did Daddy have a good sleep?” you ask quietly, Elvis cocks his head to the side and stares at the wall, letting out a hum as he thinks “Not really, Daddy's not feelin' too good this Mornin'” looking back, he sees a worried frown from you “Why?” questioning as you decide to sit up and Elvis smoothing your hair down. “Hm just sore and achy, baby” your concern grows, no matter if you're little or not, you always made sure Elvis is alright which sounds like he isn't, your eyes leave his to stare down at the duvet on the bed, the little crease between your eyebrows prominent as you process the situation.

Suddenly your eyes light up with an idea and you quickly scurry out of bed, pushing Elvis’ chest with your little hands “Lay down Daddy, lay down” you order and Elvis frowns in confusion “um sure.. but- why baby?” Doing what he's told, swinging his legs onto the bed and resting his head on the head board. You try to give him an authorised look but just ended up looking like an angry baby to Elvis, he chuckles slightly before he nods and raises his eyebrows at you “Daddy's sick, I- I'm look after him” explaining your plans to your daddy making him smile nervously “U-um that's real sweet of ya honey but i-i- don't think that's a good idea..” usually when you're little, Elvis would do everything for you since you just make a mess or have accidents that end up you crying or getting injured but you just shake your head “uh uh no daddy, nigh nighs’ “ telling him to just go to sleep and let you do your thing which he hesitantly accepts and gets comfortable under the covers. Elvis watching you run out of the bedroom and hearing your sooties scattering down the stairs, he laughs to himself at your funny behaviour.

After some time you arrive back through the bedroom doors with the first aid box that Elvis keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets for whenever you hurt yourself or get sick, a bit confused how you retrieved it since it's kept in a place out of your reach “H-how did you get that?” Elvis sits up and points a finger, you look at him with a pout and set the box on the bedside table “No Daddy nigh nighs!” completely ignoring his question and you push on his chest to make him lay down, Elvis sighs “Okay okay, I'm going nighs nighs, I'm goin'' closing his eyes and sighs.

As he tries to relax, Elvis begins to hear clinking of medicine bottles and ruffling of plastic packaging so out of curiosity he opens his eyes and cranes his neck “What are you doing honey?” Huffing out a breath you whine “daddy!” Elvis raising his hands in defeat “Okay alright alright, sorry” he rests his head down on the pillow again. A few moments later, a pair of hands caresses his hair away from his forehead and your voice quietly babbling “Daddy go nighs nighs..sleepy sleepy… puppy wittle puppy” Elvis's lips curve at the corners, stifling a laugh by adjusting himself in bed so he wouldn't ruin the moment for you. Your sweet nature of always looking out for people is one of things that made Elvis think he had to have you because how can he not? Of course because he's Elvis Presley but also because why not have someone like you? Someone so sweet and kind, babying him with all your love, all your devotion. What's not to love?

He sighs again as you continue to sing a lullaby that is obviously made up “Sleepy puppy…sleepy, sleepy, sleepy” The more you sing your little song, Elvis falls into a floaty sleep, soon drifting off. Bringing the covers up to his chin, you hum softly as your attention turns to the first aid box, your little hands hovering over the tops of the medicine bottles and paper boxes filled with bandages and other things that your little brain doesn't have a clue what they're used for. Picking up a thermometer, you cautiously move the blanket from Elvis' arm and slide it under his armpit. Taking a quiet step back, your eyes watch Elvis’ sleeping face with adoration and love. You’re just so lucky to have him as your caregiver, your daddy.

After a somewhat comfortable nap, Elvis wakes up. Looking around the room to find you’re not there, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard and lets out a breathy chuckle when he notices a thermometer under his armpit and shaking his head seeing your favourite stuffie being a white bunny laying next to him, thinking you must’ve put it there for him to feel less lonely.

He turns his head at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open to see you holding a tray with a bowl and spoon, pursing your lips with concentration to not spill anything. “What’s that baby?” Elvis chuckles quietly. A relieved breath emits, you place the tray on his lap “I ask Mary to make you soup!” you state proudly. With a calm nod and a loving smile, Elvis’ heart clenches “Aww… Thank you hon, that’s real sweet of ya” giggling like a schoolgirl, you climb onto the bed next to him and pick up the spoon “Hey, I- I can feed myself darlin” Elvis laughs nervously, watching as you hold the spoon near his mouth. You shake your head and whine “No! Open!” with yet another defeated sigh Elvis opens his mouth letting you spoon feed him. Even though Elvis feels nervous and on edge about you taking care of him, he does find it nice to just let you do what you want since you’re a calm little but of course still need to be disciplined now and again.

As you feed Elvis the last spoonful, you gently pat a napkin to the corners of his mouth, earning a chuckle “Always taking good care of Daddy hm?” poking at your sides playfully, you laugh and gently push his hands away. After Elvis moves the tray onto his bedside table, you decide to snuggle up with him under the blankets. Grinning softly as he sees you nuzzling your head against his chest and holding your favourite toy bunny tightly to yours. “Thank you for looking after me, little” he smiles.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis imagine #i love him #elvis presley x reader #little!reader #cg!elvis #please brain.. work for me..please

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tainted-liquor · 8 months

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Grande Jeté⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

Hobie Brown x BlackFem!Ballerina!Reader Tws: BADDDD British, light swearing, Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! (fluff) W/C:950 A/N: Heyyy! pls forgive me bro I know 0 Londoners, n I have no idea how to write their accent lol. BEAARRR WITH ME😭

Hobie never expected in his life that he would be in this predicament. Here he was, sitting alongside Gwen as she eagerly ranted to him about her 'older sister' being in this dance. She spent about two days convincing Hobie to go with her, saying that he would be supporting an aspiring artist. "It's about to start!" Gwen cheered silently, clapping her hands quickly before pointing to the red curtains ascending upwards. "There she is!" Gwen whispered as she pointed towards your flexed form, spine curving upward as your back leg extended out behind you as your arms create a sleek invisible line between the tips of your fingers and the bottom of your toes.

He was absolutely enchanted. He had never seen someone make ballet look so sacred in his eyes, brushing off the silly dance as a bunch of jumps and turns. He watched as you slowly began to break free from your frozen stance, moving with such calculated precision and absolute elegance. It was like he was watching the performance through a tunnel, eyes glued on you and you only as you pirouetted with such grace it put every princess in the world to absolute shame. He had heard from Gwen first-hand just how painful it was to do ballet, but watching you twist and turn on the very tips of your toes put everything into perspective. In his mind, you were a precious dove ghosting the surface of the water with your pretty pink pointe shoes.

"Gwendy, you said this's one of your mates, right?" He asked, eyes still absolutely glued to you. Gwen gave him an overjoyed nod, clearly biting back the loudest scream of approval she's ever given. "Introduce me later, yea?" He mumbled as he watched you shoot Gwen a rather smooth wave, disguising it within your movements to not stray from your routine...Man, you were good. You looked absolutely bewitching as your melanated skin shone under the spotlight, your movements remaining soft and delicate whilst carrying yourself with such poise. If Gwen would've told Hobie about you earlier he would've bought the damn tickets himself.

When up on that stage, you always felt free and liberated. You spent all of your life in a studio, accepting every drop of boiling-hot criticism with cupped palms, watching as it burned and seared your skin and leave its metaphorical mark that manifested in the form of experience. You incorporated the elegant style of dance into your everyday life, weaving the very threads of its history into your personality and wearing it like a proud necklace. For you, dancing was your very being. You spent countless nights banging shoes on your walls, patching up your battered and bruised legs countless times until only a ghost of feeling remained in the tips of your toes. You've learned to crawl, then stumble, then walk, run, and finally jump all in the span of over 10+ years.

You followed the inaudible signals in the ever-so-soothing piano, utilizing the cues that you had ingrained into the back of your mind as you assumed each and every position and pose. You were in a fuck ton of pain, and you were out of breath, but what's a little bit of hurt compared to a dream 10 years in the making? When the curtains finally closed after everyone took their final bow, the roaring applause made everything worth every single twinge of pain. You eagerly ran off the stage, enveloping Gwen in a tight hug as she introduced you to the incredibly tall and lanky man next to her. The clash between the two of you was starkly obvious, with you being dressed in shades of pink, ivory, and soft beiges that complimented every aspect of your outfit.

"'Ey there, I'm 'Obie" he stated as he gave me a small smile, extending his hand towards me gently, to which I gladly accept. Truth be told, I didn't understand half of a fuck of what he just said. I pulled a smile and nod and used context clues to fill in the gaps. "That's a nice accent...where you from?" you asked with a warm smile. He gives a light chuckle before answering with a small "East London. You were really great out there, by the way. Kick n' prance queen!"

"Thank you! You should drop by my studio sometime, you can watch me and Gwen practice for future shows or just for funsies!" I exclaim with a light giggle. I scanned over Hobie, making a mental note of his rough and sharp look that contrasted with my very being. He reminded me of a black swan, gorgeous and elegant in his own way, but almost twice as intimidating. I wouldn't be lying if I said I truly loved the difference in our aesthetics.

"I tried, but he says that he doesn't-" Gwen begins, with Hobie quickly silencing her by just straight up grabbing her mouth. "Yea, I'd like that. I'll see you la'er then!" He grins as he slowly drags Gwen away, giving you a small wave and a goofy grin as I disappear backstage to change into some normal clothes and deconstruct my makeup.

"You didn't tell me that was the gyaldem you ran wif" Hobie chuckled as he shot Gwen a playful glare. "Well, I TRIED. But you started going on about how you," She dropped her voice an octave, linking a synthetic British accent to her every word. "Don't believe in paying to watch performances!" She teased. Hobie only rolled his eyes, pretending to brush off the matter. But in reality, he couldn't wait to see you again and watch you dance in all your glory.

"So...when's she dancing again?"

#across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobart brown #we die like men #east london #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you

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kastelixa · 7 months

Text

relationship headcanons! :3 Leon Kennedy x gn!reader

These are more on the topic of affection and touch! This is also my first time writing anything lol so pls excuse any odd sentences or jumps!

fluffy, a little angsty too! The reader can b male or female— or neither!

I tried to not be OOC lol >_<

-He’s def sooo awkward when it comes to romance. Like, especially during the first few stages. It takes, like, maybe a whole year (MAYBE more or less) to get this man to warm up to you.

-So, little to no affection at first. Maybe an awkward pat on the back or shoulder here and there and some gruff praise like “Good job” or “nice” when u do something special or important to u but that’s all ur getting :(

-BUT that doesn’t mean he like, doesn’t like you or anything! He’s just very emotionally stunted, esp after Raccoon city and Spain.

-He’s essentially the whole “you fell first but he fell harder” trope, yk??? Maybe the opposite in RE2

-Sometimes, he wishes he could be more affectionate n’ loving towards you. He’s so driven by his job that sometimes his brain doesn’t have enough time for you, since he’s so busy stressing and overworking himself :(

-So when those days come n’ it’s just supposed to be time for you two— like a fun little movie date or something sweet, he does his best to be the best boyfriend he can be.

-Which usually involves holding your hand or complimenting you or using cute little terms of endearment (albeit awkwardly). So like, “You look nice today.” or “Thanks, babe.” when accepting gifts or compliments from you, but the word feels foreign on his tongue and his face scrunches up a bit right after which makes him look SO cute and silly (to you) so you laugh and tell him he doesn’t have to be all lovey dovey if he doesn’t want to.

-Which he agrees begrudgingly, because deep down he WANTS to be all close to you and stuff. It makes him feel self conscious, seeing other couples being all touchy and calling each other “sweetheart” or “honey”— it makes him envious.

-But it’s hard for him to be open with his emotions. It’s hard to open up, ESPECIALLY when it comes to romance. There’s trust and commitment issues due to *ahem* past experiences that he hasn’t gotten over yet.

-But that’s a whole other topic. In summary, Leon Kennedy is shit when it comes to all that emotional stuff.

-Though, he starts feeling like he’s not close with you. Like you’re just his friend instead of his s/o. It frustrates him because he wants nothing more than to be close to you.

-So, he starts making an effort. Starting with subtle grazes and touches, like his thumb rubbing gentle circles onto the back of your hand when your holding his.

-Or his shoulder subtly brushing against yours when he walks along side you. His thigh pressing against yours when you two sit together to watch some cheesy movie that he doesn’t particularly pay attention to.

-It’s simple things like that. And at first you don’t notice. Maybe it’s an accident, you think. Right? Well, you’re wrong. Because he starts getting bolder.

-Now, he puts a comforting hand over your thigh during those movie nights. If he’s feeling especially confident, he wraps an arm around your shoulders. His limbs are stiff and his movements are awkward though.

-But when he sees you aren’t making a big deal about it, just giving a simple little glance and a sweet, reassuring smile— it makes his heart skip a beat and a surge of warmth shoot through him.

-And so he relaxes, holding you close and tighter. There and then, he realizes how nice it is to hold someone, to depend on someone and maybe— just maybe, be vulnerable.

-It’s still a struggle, but he’s more open with his affection right after that. Giving you awkward little side hugs, ruffling your hair and mussing it up, even pressing a little smooch to your cheeks!

-And boy, are you proud of him (and real giddy too). It takes a little getting used to, since the first time it caught you so off guard that your stunned expression got a little chuckle out of him.

-But, baby steps! This doesn’t happen quickly of course, Like I said— maybe a year or some months into the relationship. But soon enough, you’ll have Leon opening up and following you around like a lost puppy (more like a guard dog) everywhere you go <3

#kastelixa ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #fluff

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lilacsinjuly · 9 months

Note

Hi I really liked the Miguel O’Hara x scientist reader, would it be possible to make a part 2 maybe smutty?

equation [nsfw part two]

miguel o’hara x reader

summary:

after your small crush on miguel gets the better of you, you decide to try to win him over by bringing him coffee from his favourite cafe. it only makes him more mad.

cw: smut, fem reader, (semi?) public sex, fingering, creampie, light degradation, praise, finger sucking, slight begging, teasing, nicknames (‘good girl’, ‘mi cariño’, ‘mi princesa’) lmk if i forget anything!

word count: 3.1k

sfw part one

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Miguel sweared at you with venemous intent. You had simply been trying to get on his good side by bringing him coffee and a pastry from his favourite cafe (which you had discovered from his social media, though he doesn't need to know that).

He had accepted your gift with an expression of shock, which quickly morphed into his usual look of disdain towards you as he reluctantly grunted a minor "thank you" before going to grab the coffee out of your hand. However, as his hand went to reach out to accept the coffee, his fingers gently swept across yours and left a mark of stuttered apologies and flustered excuses when you dropped it over his desk.

The contents of the cup, still steaming, splashed over his work and down his shirt - his very white shirt that you could now see through like glass. "Are you fucking serious right now? How stupid do you have to be to do this kind of shit? Mierda..." He frantically grabbed some tissues and wiped down his desk and shirt, all while you stood there with your eyes to the ground like a berated toddler. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"It's not like I did it on purpose!" you tried to defend yourself. Nevertheless, you felt incredibly guilty. The coffee had yet to cool down and his desk was covered in important documents - which could be recovered considering he had backups on his computer, yet much like an old man, he had to have them printed out in front of him for a reason unbeknownst to you.

You watched him with regret. Your eyes trailed slowly from the ruined worksheets in front of him to the tissue box where he was grabbing another tissue to wipe down his shirt. Your remorseful eyes followed the tissue in his hand as they trailed up his arm, and then right back down his chest, where the liquid had splashed against his paper white shirt and revealed a whole lot of what you honestly had already guessed was there. You shamelessly gawked at where he wiped with annoyance, too lost in a trance to hear him scolding you.

"and- you're not even listening are you?"

Quickly, you were snapped out of your daze. Your lips halfway to apologising, he dismissed you with a look of irritation as he stormed off, probably to the bathroom.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. You had tried to do something nice for the man who so obviously hates you, and yet it backfired horribly due to your silly, unreciprocated, crush. Tirelessly, your mind worked to discover a way of making it up to him.

The supply closet. You know you had seen a box of spare clothes kept for the scientific experiments that went on. Sure, it was a Sunday, so hardly anyone was in, which meant that there weren't a lot of people around to see Miguel's coffee stained shirt, yet you gathered that the gesture was thoughtful despite that. And the best part? Giving Miguel a shirt couldn't possibly go wrong. Unlike coffee, it couldn't burn him or ruin his hard work. The worst thing that could happen is that his hand could brush against yours again and you would look like a complete fool for the second time in a day. But, you'd soon show him up with an upcoming experiment you had been working on anyway.

Nothing could go wrong. Absolutely nothing.

Except...

You swung open the door to the supply closet to find that Miguel had already beaten you to the box of spare shirts. In fact, as you swung open the door, you found that he had been in the middle of putting it on. Your entire body burned with embarrassment as you stared at his bare chest, covered only by two buttons that were already done up. Hands covering your face, you spun around so quickly it was a shock you hadn't lost balance. At that point, you wouldn't have even cared. What's a little more humiliation?

"Why are you getting changed in the supply closet?" you exclaimed with your back to his face, your voice high pitched with shock.

"It's a Sunday, why would anyone come in here?" he shouted back, seemingly fed up with you. However, with your back turned, you couldn't see his flustered expression. You couldn't hear the way his heartbeat was trying to rip through his skin. You never saw his wide eyes when he caught your eyes staring through his shirt or the way a slight smile rose on his lips when he stormed off at the idea of you even thinking about grabbing him coffee from his favourite cafe.

"I came in here to get you a shirt. It's not entirely impossible that someone could walk in on a Sunday, you know?" you huffed, your eyes rolling. You felt like you were on the brink of death. Sure, you had literally just seen right through his shirt. Yet, watching him button up a new one had your brain thinking entirely new, lustful thoughts.

"I don't need your fucking help."

A brief, unappreciated moment of silence strolls by in what feels like forever, but what was only a single heartbeat later. "Why do you hate me so much?" you stared at your feet with sad, confused eyes. You didn't need him to reciprocate your romantic feelings, yet it would have been nice if he actually tolerated you. You kept your voice sturdy, as though you had asked him for the time.

Miguel thought for a moment. Searching deep within himself, he found many feelings for you, yet none of them fell under the category of 'hatred'. He'd masked his feelings under his competitive nature and rude remarks due to his fear of admitting that he thought about you, all of the time.

It seems as though he'd been thinking for too long. "Forget I said anything." You muttered out, putting one foot in front of the other as you began to walk away, hoping to forget about Miguel after this experience as soon as possible. However, he grabbed your wrist with a gentle grip, not wanting to hurt you. He held just enough pressure to give you the decision to walk away from him, yet also enough that it conveys how he wants you to stay.

Once you had made your decision to keep your feet planted firmly on the ground, yet your back still faced him, he pulled you closer to him, spinning you around. Your hand met his chest, due to the fact he had never gotten the chance to finish buttoning his shirt.

"I don't hate you. What I feel for you, it... it intimidates me. Yet, I can't help but smile when you bring me coffee even after spilling it all over me and I can't help but feel flustered when you're touching me like this." He places his larger hands over yours lightly, your skin hardly touching his yet you can feel him like you were holding hands. You could feel him in every part of your body with how close he is to you.

Miguel's touch glides delicately down your arm and you take him all in without hesitation, afraid he'll realise what he's doing and choose to stop. Yet, that moment never comes. His fingers trail slowly down your arm, and then slowly up to reach your face. He takes your face in between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his own. His eyes are begging to kiss you, his lips yearning to feel your own. Your consent is silent, but he hears it nevertheless.

His lips capture yours in a slow and sensual kiss. It's steady, yet full of passion and want. He couldn't handle the eruption of his pushed down feelings, and likewise, you couldn't handle the release of what you had thought was an unrequited love. This was evident in the way you reached behind you to slam the supply closet door shut, and in the same way he pushed you up against it.

Your rhythmic kisses became increasingly more fervent and desperate. His hand that was previously on your face had made its way to your thigh, pushing up your skirt as his fingers dance around your thigh, so close to where you need him the most.

"We shouldn't-'' you pant in between the kisses you share with him. "be doing this- here."

His lips began to make their way across your jaw and down your neck without any regard for anyone who could walk in. "Don't fuckin' care, need this so bad." he sighed against your neck as his hands pawed at your thigh. Soon enough, with the way he was touching and kissing you, you couldn't find it within yourself to care either.

Your hands slithered down his chest to where the few buttons that were done up were. You began to undo the few remaining buttons, as he got the idea to undo the buttons on your own shirt, revealing your bra.

Miguel scattered affectionate kisses across your chest as you rest your head against the wall. Your breathing increased in its pace and became unstable with each trembling breath you dared to take. Your hands dragged up the back of his shirt and locked in his hair, drawing a grunt from Miguel's lips which sent shivers throughout your entire body.

The hand that wasn't supporting your thigh trailed its way up your bare leg and snuck underneath the fabric of your skirt, hiking it further up allowing his eyes to trail down to the lace of your panties.

His cock ached harder against you every moment that passed and Miguel felt as though he'd die if he didn't release everything he had into you at once. However, he continued to glide his fingers against your panties and tease your clit ever so slightly.

Instinctively, your hips moved against his fingers, trying to induce more pleasure and take from him the pleasure that he was denying you. When he noticed this, he removed his hand from you completely, bringing it up to your face, caressing it gently as you whined in disappointment.

Suddenly, his gentle touch was redirected into a much harsher pressure on your throat as he moved so his mouth was by your ear. Lightly, his teeth bit your earlobe before he whispered: "I've not waited this fucking long for you to be a needy brat. You'll wait for me, won't you cariño?"

The way his husky voice consumed your mind entirely as you bit your lip and surrendered to his every whim with a simple nod. Miguel smirked. "Good girl."

Your breath caught in your throat at the name yet he paid no notice as his hand went back to your now soaking cunt. His finger trailed down your panties with only the slightest pleasure, before he hooked his finger in your panties and pulled them to the side. Miguel's fingers were rough as they glided through your folds and rubbed your clit softly.

Evidently, his hands were worked and experienced. Carefully, a single finger slipped through your entrance, causing you to hold back from grinding down. Eventually, he slipped in another finger, and it was getting harder to contain your moans as they curled inside you.

Miguel let out a frustrated and disapproving groan. “Cariño, don’t hold back. Use that pretty voice of yours. You’ve always loved winding me up and annoying me. Why so silent now, mi princesa?”

You looked up at him, battling the urge to roll your eyes at his words. Perhaps it has something to do with your fingers being stuffed inside of me, Miguel? Is what you wanted to say, yet due to his condescending tone and the fact that his fingers were bullying their way into your cunt, all you could let out was a soft whine as your hands clawed at his hair - to which he responded with, "Good girl, that's what i like to hear."

After minutes passed of his fingers teasing and playing with you, you felt that familiar coil within you stretch. So close to snapping. His mouth was on your neck, kissing and biting you so that everybody would see that you weren't available. After this, there was no chance of him letting you go. You were his.

One of his hands had pulled down your bra, exposing your breasts as he fondled one of them, twisting and pulling on the flesh and your nipple. His other hand had a thumb circling your clit mercilessly and two other fingers stuffed to his knuckle deep inside of you.

All of this was sending you further off the edge as you tried to pull yourself back. "Miguel- I'm g'nna come, but- only w'nna come on your cock." You whined, trying to pull back from him.

To your surprise, Miguel had agreed with your wish, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and shoving them straight into your mouth as the hand that pawed at your breasts began to undo his belt skillfully and pull out his hard erection. He threw his head back and groaned at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock being set free. Shamelessly, he wondered how your tongue would move around his dick. Yet he decided that was an inquiry that should be answered another time, as the longer he spent without his cock inside of you, the more he felt he was going insane.

Miguel removed his fingers from your mouth, a trail of saliva briefly connected the two of you before it snapped as his hand was brought further down to grab at his dick.

Your mind was hazy as you looked down and fuck did it take a lot for your eyes not to bulge out of your head and for your jaw not to drop to the ground. He was big, in both length and width. "Miguel- it wont fit-"

"I'll fuckin' make it fit, baby. You wanted to come on my dick, didn't you? So you'll take it like a good girl, won't you, mi princesa?"

It was very hard to argue with that. So quite simply, you nodded with a slight pout on your lips.

He looked up at you just as his length hit your entrance. His brows furrowed at your expression. "You don't think you can take it?" He tutted. "What a shame." He began to back away before you grabbed his arm and whined at the distance put between the two of you.

"I can take it! Promise I can take it, Miguel, just please, please put it in!" You begged him as he smirked at your desperate state.

You barely had time to process his few footsteps before you were stuffed to the brim with his dick, your head thrown back against the wall as he lifted up your leg to reach the sweet spot inside of you whilst also thrusting deep inside. Your mouth hung open in a silent moan, yet it was as though he could hear every inch of the amount of pleasure he gave you as it fuelled him to slowly begin moving inside of you.

"F-fuck, faster Miguel, please-"

His mind was reeling with how amazing you made him feel, how tight you were hugging his cock and how warm you felt as he thrusted inside of you with a now quicker pace and harder force.

Your leg wrapped around his torso, pulling him in deeper, greedily trying to feel him in more ways than you already were which seemed impossible because you felt him everywhere.

He pounded tortured and desperate moans from your lips. It was like you couldn't think or form any words that didn't involve how amazing his cock felt when it was so deep inside you.

"Need 'ya to be more quiet, 'kay? Someone could walk past us. You want 'em to hear how good i'm fucking you?" You shook your head profusely, embarrassment crawling over your skin at the idea of someone trying to walk in, only to hear your disheveled moans and to be blocked by your back against the door. "I really don't feel like sharing this pretty voice with anyone else, cariño."

But, quite simply, you couldn't help the plethora of whines that slipped past your lips when his dick had found that spot within you so fast, as though Miguel knew your body better than your own. Perhaps it had something to do with how he'd always be staring at you. If anyone had asked, he'd tell them he was plainly 'observing you' so he could win this one-sided feud.

Miguel grew wary someone would hear, though he wasn't exactly quiet as he groaned at the feeling of stretching you. His rough hands traced you with sparse attentiveness. As one reached your jaw, he grabbed it firmly, tilting your head to look at his. Delicate fingers ran over the softness of your lips as you looked at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes. His index finger tapped your bottom lip, silently asking you to open up and you obeyed without argument. Abruptly, he slipped two fingers deep into your mouth, almost causing you to gag as you closed your lips around them obediently.

Miguel towered above you, and as he looked down his dick twitched inside of you. The sight of your eyes wide, looking into his, and his fingers inside your mouth almost made him come on the spot. He groaned out a myriad of profanities as he envisioned you sucking on his dick, looking up at him with those pleading eyes, desperate to satisfy him.

"You gonna come, mi princesa? 'm so fuckin' close." He whispered in your ear as you nodded eagerly. Your cunt clenched around him, signally your nearing orgasm.

Miguel removed his fingers, wiping a trail of saliva off your chin with his thumb before he captured your lips with his own. The kiss was messy, along with his thrusts.

Your hands ran down his back, clawing at his shirt as you approached your release, squeezing his cock and separating your lips to breathe as your forehead rested against his own. Your mouth hung open and you panted against his lips as you came.

Only seconds after, spurred on by the feeling of you clenching around him, Miguel's hips stuttered as he released himself inside of you, a heavy grunt falling from his lips.

He stayed inside you for a few moments, cherishing being so close to you. Slowly, he slipped himself out of you. The hand that he used to keep your leg up dropped your leg and reached up to caress your cheek instead as you continued to breathe into each other's open mouths. You were both exhausted.

"You still think I hate you?" He murmured, voice tired and low.

You laughed, a small smile present on your swollen lips. "You certainly fuck me like you hate me."

note: i'm so sorry this took so long! i hope you enjoy.

#fanfic #smut #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x you #atsv smut #atsv fic

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meiieiri · 7 months

Text

Something about JJK 236 is bothering me

That fight...was awesome, but it could have gone better.

Other than the fact that I'm currently in mourning over our king's garish demise (don't get me wrong, I do want him to be happy in the afterlife and I'm slowly coming to terms with his death, it's just I can't really process all this yet), I'm still a bit confused how we got here so quickly.

I have countless questions and I know Gege will probably brush this off in the coming chapters and pull yet another meeska-mooska-Mickey Mouse Clubhouse move.

But there is one that lingers in my mind up to this day:

Remember during the Fearsome Womb Arc when Yuji and Sukuna deliberated with each other on the possible resurrection or re-animation of Itadori's body via a deathmatch?

Yeah. We all know Sukuna, the king of all curses, is a master at one-shotting his opponent. Just take a look at what he did to our best rose-colored boy who went from this:

To this, in a split second (lmao):

Yeah, yeah, I've read all the “copium” theories from other Gojo fans such as myself who are kinda on the fence when it comes to accepting Gojo's death as being final or not, but, let me bring this back real quick to the matter at hand.

Sukuna went for the head with Itadori. Of course, maybe he did that to shut him up sure, but what I'm getting at is, the head is the singlemost critical point to hit when it comes to sorcery dogfights.

He knows this.

And he probably knows that Gojo Satoru, the darling of the heavens, the uncontested gem of Jujutsu Society, is a reverse cursed technique user. Pretty obvious thing to catch since Satoru had been using RCT the entire showdown to heal his countless critical wounds.

So, Sukuna, in all his centuries of wreaking havoc on the world, should know that the only way to permanently kill a sorcerer who uses RCT is by targeting the head. There were so many instances in this entire deathmatch that we are completely blown away by Sukuna's prowess and overall mastery of Jujutsu.

Can you imagine the amount of practice he's had over the years with other "greatest sorcerer of their generation"s? He knows the ins and outs of Jujutsu like scripture, which is exactly what kept Gojo Satoru on his backfoot for some parts of their skirmish.

Now, here's the thing that's bothering me:

I liken Sukuna as something like a super computer. All that battle experience is readily available to him like some Jujutsu techniques data bank, not to mention, Mahoraga's adaptation clearly gave him yet another advantage in this fight for the title of the strongest.

He knows Satoru Gojo has been frying his brain using Reverse Cursed Technique this entire time, and he's probably seen his former opponents do the same as well. He knows that the only way to kill them is by dealing a devastating blow to the head via decapitation or complete obliteration of the body.

So, my question now is:

Why did he bother cutting Gojo in this particular manner? Why didn't he go straight for the head, since Mahoraga's adaptation blueprint can now allow Sukuna to cut through reality/space itself and therefore bypass Gojo’s infinity non-selectively?

Arrogance now that he's secured his definitive victory? Or the so-called warrior's high? Why leave room for obvious speculation when it could so easily be crushed into smithereens if he just went for the kill?

It's all very confusing. I'll point back to the time when Sukuna swiftly decapitated Itadori.

And I'm willing to bet that that move was deliberate since at the time, Itadori had already been in Jujutsu High for quite some time and Sukuna must have realized that under the tutelage of Gojo and other sorcerers, he must be learning a thing or two about RCT here and there which may have led him to end the fight quickly hence, the resurrection of Yuji Itadori.

Now before, ya'll attack me, I know what manga panel you're gonna throw at me to deconstruct this entire analysis and dismiss it as "copium". So, I'll put this here:

I know it may look like Gojo's entire head has been blown off at this point seeing the pool of blood he's currently lying on. But why is Gege or the editor making the effort to cover Gojo’s head with the text bubble when, logically speaking (and coldly at that), Gojo should be deader than dead? Which he…in theory based on the afterlife sequence, SHOULD be.

And with that whole North/South thing to cap it all off? Though, I wouldn't dwell on that. The wording in that bit was very vague and I’m not really into the habit of over-reading so hehe~

Anyway.

Could it be there's something else in store for Gojo Satoru? Is something else at play here?

Or is this simply a writer's failsafe, just in case Gege wishes to bring back Gojo Satoru so that he'll have a rational explanation as to how that came to be? No one knows. But I think this wasn't some on-the-fly decision by Gege or the editors.

Gege Akutami - though as a writer myself, I find his current choices for the story to be a little questionable with the many gray areas where plotholes could eventually arise - has been deliberate about this story since the beginning, having already mapped out the fate of Fushiguro Megumi.

This panel, the entire chapter, the circumstances we're now currently witnessing is deliberate. And maybe...we haven't seen the last of Satoru yet.

I'll leave this here for everyone to think about. This is all speculation, after all, so don't be mean about it, Jesus. In the meantime, I'll just admire my husband, Suguru, for now and will probably go back to writing my fics~ 💕

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk 236 #jjk theory #gojo satoru #geto suguru #ryomen sukuna #gojo satoru theory #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #i do hope he’s still alive though #please please let this be the case #jjk #gojo is alive agenda

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heythereprettyblueeyes · 3 months

Text

off the record

Fushiguro Megumi x F!Reader

summary - Megumi doesn't talk much except when the two of your are alone. He tells you what he's thinking, how he's feeling, and discusses your future behind closed doors.

warnings - none

a/n - i hope this is what you wanted, @jenoyouth! i had to google the English lyrics so i hope i got it at least CLOSE to right 💕

Megumi was the furthest from a social butterfly you could get. He did not like interacting with people at all, since he was such a quiet boy. He broods a lot, but he can't help it. It's just how he is, and you've learned to accept him as he is when the two of you are out together in public.

But when the two of you are alone in either his or your room...

"You're so pretty."

It was so soft you almost hadn't heard it, but you turned to look at the spiky-haired boy who was staring at you with something you couldn't place in his eyes. Love? Admiration? Both?

"What?" You blushed, feeling butterflies at the way he was looking at you.

"You're beautiful," he said louder, using a stronger word to describe you. "You're so beautiful and honestly... I don't know how I landed you."

This was new. Megumi didn't strike you as insecure, but here he was saying he wasn't sure how someone like him got lucky enough to date someone like you.

You smiled softly, "You did that by being the sweet, albeit sometimes moody, boy you are."

He smiled at that, reaching up to twirl a strand of your hair around his fingers, "You always see the good in me. Even when I don't see it myself." He paused for a moment. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me."

Your eyes went wide, cheeks burning, "Gumi-"

"I know I don't say it often," he cut you off, "I know how I can be sometimes. Cold, distant, not very affectionate. But you make me feel safe, (Name). You make me feel loved. And I love you for that, and for every other wonderful thing about you. Which is too many to list now."

Your jaw dropped. Never had you expected to hear Megumi so vocal about his feelings, about what he thought of you, but it was really nice to hear. It gave you butterflies, and made you smile like an idiot. You shifted closer to him, laying your head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

"If it's beating fast, it's because I'm really nervous having you this close," he admitted, kissing the top of your head. "I'm not good with all this, but I'm learning. For you."

"I know, and I really appreciate it," you gently squeezed his hip.

The room settled into comfortable silence then, with the two of you just laying there cuddling. Moments like this were rare, since Gojo insisted on sending you guys out on several missions just for the experience. So you enjoyed it while you could.

"Do you think about your future?" He suddenly asked, a bit nervously. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Yes," you confessed, looking up at him. "A lot, actually."

"Am I...am I in it?"

He looked so scared, so nervous, of your answer that it was so cute. You smiled gently and brushed your thumb along his cheek.

"You always were. And always will be."

His shoulders slumped in relief, and he smiled, "Good. Because I think about it a lot too. And you're in every single future I imagine. No matter what I think of, you're right there with me. And I would never change that."

Your heartbeat quickened, and a bright red blush settled on your cheeks once more, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he started playing with your hair. "I want us to get married one day, settle down and have a little boy. I know I don't seem like I want that, but I do. With you, I really do."

"A boy, huh?" You smirked.

He blushed lightly, "Yeah, a little boy with your beautiful eyes."

"And your spiky hair?* You giggled, tracing small circles on his chest with your finger.

He laughed, "Okay maybe not that. My eyes and your hair then."

You laughed and kissed his cheek, "Sounds perfect."

He wrapped both his arms around you, trapping you in a warm, lovung embrace. His hand rubbed up and down your back, sighs of content coming from the both of you as you relaxed for once.

"I don't want anyone else to have you," he finally spoke a few minutes later. "Is that bad? Is it selfish that I want you all to myself? I hate it when other boys stare at you, like you're a piece of meat."

Your heart was going to burst out of your chest any second now.

"It's not bad," you reassured him, "It's actually sweet, baby. You can be as selfish as you want with me, because I'm all yours to be selfish with." Pause. "I also hate it when girls look at you, you know. You may not think they do, but they stare, and it annoys me."

He smirked, "Oh really?"

"Heyyyy," you laughed and playfully smacked his arm, "You just said you get jealous too!"

He chuckled and kept on rubbing your back, "I just can't stand the thought of losing you. To anyone else, or to...to..." He struggled to get it out.

You knew what he meant.

Megumi had struggled with abandonment issues for so long it was hard for him to grasp that you were here to stay. Everyone he cared about ended up leaving him, so it's no surprise to hear he's scared of you leaving too.

"Gumi, baby," you gripped his chin and made him look at you, "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I promise. No one is taking me away from you, no one. You can't get rid of me, you're stuck with me foreverrrr~" You sang that last part, and he couldn't help but smile.

"What a nuisance," he teased, but the jab was half-hearted. His grip on you tightened. "But I'm glad. I'll do anything I can to protect you, I hope you know that."

"I do," you smiled and ran a hand through his hair, "And I hope you know that I will do the same for you."

And for the first time since you'd met him, Megumi cried.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

From the goddamn moment he was born, Lance did not know peace.

Okay, yes, he’s being a little dramatic. But in his defense, he really hasn’t ever known peace — you try living with nine older sisters on a farm. That shit is hard. Lance didn’t experience silence until he was four years old, only a delicate child, and at the time it frightened him. He’s been surrounded by noise and chaos (and more noise, somehow) since his inception, basically.

So you can understand why the castle is kind of a nightmare for him.

Growing up, whenever he was annoyed by his family (which was frequently), he would stomp off the the barn and yell about how when he was grown, he was going to move out to a private beach house and never hear another soul again. He’d bitch and moan to the cattle about how he couldn’t wait to grow up and finally sleep in a room all his own, with no annoying sisters or nosy roommates or anything, really. He’d mutter about it every time Hunk read his journal, fume about it every time his sisters banged on the bathroom door and yelled at him to hurry up. He swore up and down to everyone that would listen that when he finally found peace there would not be a goddamn thing in the world and beyond that would stop him from protecting it.

Well, then he got his peace, in the form of a castle that doubled as a graveyard. His own room, for once in his life, and not a single person to bother him unless it was life threatening, basically.

And oh, how Lance hated it.

He tossed and turned like no one’s business on the first days, but brushed it off as getting used to a new space. And as he kept tossing and turning, night after night, getting maybe three hours of scattered sleep of he was lucky, he continued to blame it on a myriad of things: fear of a freaky haunted castle, weirdly stiff Altean beds, freezing cold castle temperatures, nightmares. All true things, of course, but eventually Lance had to concede — the castle was too goddamn quiet.

Tough pill to swallow, that one.

He’d tried to handle it himself. Stole Pidge’s headphones, hummed out loud to himself; hell, he even left the bathroom sink running for some white noise. None of it worked. None of it was the same as the constant sound of someone breathing right next to you, the grumbles of their snores and strange mutterings of their sleep-talk. The very thing Lance hated with a passion turned out to be the one thing that actually helped his insomniac ass actually sleep. Mother nature, you trick-ass bitch. You have a personal problem.

Now, of course there was an easy solution to this. He shared the castle with six other people — one of them his Garrison roommate! Surely, he could bunk with someone else.

But… no one else seemed to have trouble sleeping. At least, not for the same reason as Lance. And as much as Lance liked to play the obnoxious role, as much as nothing was funnier than pushing just the right buttons to make someone else explode… he couldn’t be that much of a nuisance. It was too much.

So Lance got real used to being sleep deprived.

Of course, he wasn’t stupid about it. He never went more than three days without sleep. On particularly rough nights, he’d crash Hunk or Pidge’s rooms raving about a sleepover, or convince the rest of the team that they should have a movie night, and then just happen to fall asleep right there on the couch. By circumstance, he and Shiro ended up helping each other out pretty often, too — the black paladin was kept up by nightmares about as often as Lance was by plain old insomnia. The man was usually too proud to accept Lance’s help, but every once in a while he allowed it, and they both slept soundly, for once.

Keith, though?

His help was a surprise.

Keith, as it turns out, has as much pent-up energy as the goddamn Energizer Bunny on steroids. On days they don’t have missions that will pump them full of so much adrenaline their hearts are at risk, he trains himself to exhaustion, else he’ll be up all night.

Training with him doesn’t do anything for Lance’s insomnia. It does, however, do wonders for their relationship.

Without Lance’s permission, angry, after-hour fights evolve into playfully competitive spars. Those spars evolve into genuine lessons, both of them teaching each other things neither ever considered learning before. (Turns out Lance’s flexibility comes in handy in swordfights, and Keith’s reflexes lead to excellent pistol work. Who knew?) And then, week by week, month by month, those late nights turn into a tension so thick that neither of them can bear it.

It may have been Keith to make the first move, but Lance thinks he deserves some credit. They wouldn’t be here without his complete inability to sleep like a normal person, after all.

The great thing about dating someone, though, is that eventually, bed-sharing comes into the mix. Eventually both parties start looking for excuses to stay in each other’s space just a little bit longer.

Lord above, is it ever a relief.

No longer does Lance need to desperately look for an excuse after seventy-two straight hours of prying his eyes open. Now he justs follows Keith to his room when the night cycle starts, wrapping around him like an octopus and stealing his warmth like a leech. Keith is the worst, most annoying sleeper in the world — he snores, he tosses and turns, and regularly talks and even yells in his sleep — and Lance fucking relishes it. It is a relief of biblical proportions to finally be able to have a good night’s rest, on a regular fucking basis.

It does, though, make nights when he has to sleep in his own room that much worse.

He doesn’t even have to, technically. Like, there’s no indication that Keith ever wants him to go back. In fact, the man always pouts when Lance stops at his own door, muttering petulantly to himself as he presses a kiss to Lance’s forehead and makes his way to his own room. Honestly, Keith would probably like it if Lance moved into his room, for good.

Lance bites his lip, considering.

Still. He doesn’t want to be annoying.

But there’s no way to know unless he goes for it, right?

“Hey, babe,” Lance tries, testing the waters. They’re both in the bathroom, getting ready for bed; Keith braiding his hair as Lance applies a myriad of skin products to his face. “Do you think you could make some room in your dresser for my socks? And, like, other clothes?”

Is it a coward’s way to voice what he’s really asking? Yeah. But Lance is nervous, okay? Cut him some slack. If this backfires then he’s back to sleeping twice a fuckin’ week.

Keith stills. He abandons his hair, turning slowly to face Lance. Lance looks away, fiddling with the hem of his pajama shirt.

“Lance,” Keith says, placing both hands on his shoulders. He’s quiet until Lance finally looks up at him.

“Yeah?”

Keith’s face is mission-level serious; eyebrows drawn together over dark indigo eyes, mouth set in a firm line.

“I would reach my hands into a live fire and swallow hot coals for you if you asked me to. Do you understand that?”

There’s a beat of silence. Keith’s expression remains unmoving, dead-serious, entirely unfazed by what he just said.

Lance bursts out laughing, shoulders shaking under Keith’s heavy hands, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Keith’s collarbones.

God. This is Keith. Why was he nervous, again?

“I just need a couple drawers, doofus. No need for theatrics.”

Keith presses a kiss to his hair. “Just want to make sure we’re on the same page. Yes, by the way. I cleared out half my shit weeks ago. I’ve been waiting for you to finally move all the way in.”

Lance smiles, hidden against Keith’s shirt.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

He never has to worry about sleep again.

———

based off this video

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florence-end · 9 months

Text

Fairytales

Part 2 to May I Have This Dance?

Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Encouraged by your walls lowering after dancing together, Azriel takes you into Velaris to show you his favourite place. You move one step closer to accepting the mating bond.

Warnings: a little mention of Azriel’s childhood, reader is still an anxious mess a lot of the time, absolute self-indulgent tooth rottingly fluffy feelings

The day after you danced with Azriel as part of Cassian’s lessons, you found yourself unable to look him in the eye once more. The memories of the intimacy you’d both enjoyed during the waltzes with his hand pressed to your lower back and lips barely inches apart were now overwhelming, and if you dwelled on them too much you became so aware of the buzzing bond that joined your souls, it became hard to breath. So naturally, rather than embarrass yourself further, you avoided him all morning.

To say Azriel was frustrated would be an understatement. Not frustrated with you, never with you. But with all the events of your life up until now that led you to pull away from him every time he managed to get a little closer to you. Before the dancing lessons, he had even begun to wonder if perhaps you simply didn’t feel the bond as strongly as he did and that’s why it didn’t soothe your discomfort the way he thought it would once you got to know each other. However, he had now seen your natural reaction to him when he’d pulled you so close, kept you there with gentle firm hands when you tried to shrink back into yourself, the look in your eyes when you pushed through the overwhelm and allowed your guard to drop for a few minutes. You were just as affected as he was. And if tiptoeing around you and avoiding any grand gestures for fear of scaring you off hadn’t worked by now, it was time to try a new approach.

Which is how Azriel found himself knocking on your office door that afternoon, not with a book and a mug of your favourite tea in hand, but with your winter coat and knitted hat.

“Good afternoon, Azriel,” you murmured quietly, stepping back from the door to avoid having him brush against you as he entered your small study.

“Hi angel. Here,” he responded, holding out your coat for you to slip your arms into. But you didn’t move.

“What’s going on? I don’t have any meetings in the River House scheduled this afternoon,” you fretted, beginning to panic that you were going to have to speak in front the rest of Inner Circle without enough preparation time.

Azriel felt your anxiety rise, heard your heart rate spike. “Deep breaths angel, you don’t have any meetings. In fact, your working day is done. Amren is in Adriata with Varian until tomorrow and she was more than happy to grant my request to steal you from your duties for a few hours while she’s gone,” he explained, once again raising your coat and urging you to thread your arms through the sleeves.

“Oh,” you whispered to yourself, absentmindedly following his instruction and shrugging the warm fabric onto your shoulders.

Next, Azriel walked around to face you and tugged your chunky knit winter hat onto your head until it covered most of your ears and almost touched your eyebrows. You blinked up at him in surprise, and quickly stepped back to adjust the hat until it sat normally.

“Are we going somewhere?” you asked, mentally kicking yourself for such a silly question.

“I have a secret place I like to go down in the city when I have an afternoon off, and I have a feeling you might like it as much as I do,” he replied. With no more explanation, he held a hand out to you expectantly.

Walking through the House of Wind hand-in-hand was a new experience. Typically Azriel maintained a polite distance between your bodies except when he was flying with you or while dancing yesterday. And although you felt the usual breathlessness that came with your frayed nerves, you recognised the feeling as excitement this time as he clasped your hand in a gentle but firm hold and led you towards the large balcony.

Once outside in the crisp November air, he swept you up into his arms and shot into the sky with none of his usual tentativeness or warning. He was worried he had pushed his luck a little too far in his new attempts to encourage you to open up, until he snuck a glance at your face while his wings uncurled to slow the free fall.

You were wide eyed, but not with fear. Your face was lit up with sheer joy at the surprise. As Azriel took a sharp turn towards the river, a gleeful laugh escaped your beaming lips. He made a mental note to show this memory to Feyre later and ask her to paint it.

A few moments later, you both landed on a quiet cobbled street a few blocks away from the bank of the Sidra and Azriel once again took your hand.

“Come on, angel,” he smiled as he led you towards a tiny doorway tucked into the side of one of the small stone buildings.

Walking inside, the smell was the first thing you noticed. Books. You’d know that smell anywhere. And indeed the walls of the warm, dim room were lined with shelves upon shelves of beautiful fabric-bound volumes in all colours and sizes. A few cosy armchairs and sofas filled the space in the middle of the room, facing the lit fireplace.

“Whose house is this?” you asked as you took in the cosy atmosphere.

“Officially it’s mine but darling Azriel likes to act as if he owns the place more often than not,” the amused voice reached you before the elderly fae lady rounded the corner, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached.

“And you must be this mate he’s told me so much and yet so little about. Let me look at you, dear,” the female demanded, pulling you forward from Azriel’s grasp and removing your wooly hat in one swift movement. The attention brings you back to yourself, and self consciousness threatens to overcome you. Your shoulders hunch, your gaze falls to the woven rug beneath your feet and your cheeks warm in a way that has nothing to do with the roaring fire.

“Oh he said you were a little shy. That’s alright, those Illyrian brutes make more than enough noise for everyone,” she says fondly, squeezing your hand and throwing a wink towards Azriel as he rolls his eyes.

“Sweetheart, this is Efa. She has lived here for centuries. When Rhys was trapped in Amarantha’s court, she found me walking along the river one night and invited me in for tea. I’ve been coming as often as I can ever since,” he explained, removing his coat and yours as he spoke, and moving to hang them on the coat stand near the front door.

“Azriel it’s rude to leave a lady standing in the middle of the room, sit down both of you! The kettle is on but I’m afraid I have to go to work. Please make yourself at home, my dear,” she aimed the last part at you as she hung up her apron and wrapped a colourful knitted shawl around her shoulders and swept out of the door.

“Efa runs the haberdashery near Feyre’s studio so I often come here for some peace and quiet to read,” Azriel explained, shepherding you towards the squashy sofa directly opposite the hearth.

“You don’t like the libraries up at the house?” you asked.

“Oh of course, but sometimes I want to read the books only Efa has,” Azriel gestured to the shelves surrounding you.

Suddenly remembering all the beautifully bound books, you made your way to the nearest bookcase and took in the titles. After scanning three shelves, you moved to the next bookcase and the next.

Turning to find Azriel watching you intently, you voiced your confusion. “Fairytales?”

He smiled.

“Efa collects them. Fairytales and nursery rhymes from every court in Prythian and even a few human stories,” he picked a burgundy and gold book from the shelf and held it out for you to inspect.

“You like fairytales?” you ask, incredulously. A half-second later you realised how rude you had probably sounded. “I mean, everyone loves fairytales so of course there’s nothing to say you shouldn’t. It’s just-”

“I know it’s a surprise,” he cut you off, saving you from flustering yourself further. “But I didn’t have a proper childhood. My step mother wasn’t really the bedtime story kind and there were no books in the dungeon. By the time Rhysand’s mother took me in, he and Cassian thought themselves far too grown up and tough for children’s stories. But when I was small, during the hour I was permitted to see my mother each week, she would tell me all sorts of tales of dragons and brave knights and braver princesses. Coming here, reading these books, reminds me of those times when I start to feel like I’ve ventured too far from the child I once was.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Of course you knew the gist of Azriel’s childhood but he had never been so open with you. So vulnerable. You knew he was worried about overwhelming you and although you had tried to engage in conversation to get to know your mate, you would always find yourself clamming up after a few exchanged sentences. But for him to trust you with something and somewhere so personal even when you gave so little of yourself in return…

“Oof!” Azriel exhaled as your body collided with his. Your arms were around his shoulders, your hands spread across his back between his wings and you balanced on your toes to avoid squishing your face against his broad chest. His arms instinctively moved to wrap around waist and he had time to give you one quick squeeze before you lost your nerve and teetered back onto your heels.

You quickly busied yourself with finding a fairytale to read but you could both feel something had shifted. The walls around you were starting to falter and Azriel was determined to slip past them as much as you would permit.

For the next two hours, you sat together on the sofa, fairytales open in your laps. But instead of reading in silence as you often did together in your study, you found yourselves reading passages aloud to each other. Laughing at particularly silly limericks and nursery rhymes. Describing the whackiest make-believe characters from long forgotten fables. It turned out Azriel was quite the expert at putting on exaggerated voices for all of the characters, and you had to wipe away tears of laughter on more than one occasion.

As the sun began to set outside, Azriel’s stomach gave an almighty growl and you giggled.

“Perhaps it’s time to go home for dinner. Can we come back soon?” you asked, still feeling a little nervous to ask him for anything.

“Whenever you want,” he promised, once again offering your coat for you to slip into.

Rather than immediately take flight this time, Azriel took your hand as you stepped back out onto the narrow street and began strolling toward the river.

“Before we go home, there’s something I’d like to tell you. I say all of this with no expectation and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know you’re scared and I’ve refrained from being too upfront with any of this during the last month because I haven’t wanted to push you further away. But yesterday, when we danced, I realised if I don’t take a chance and lay my cards on the table, we might both suffer all the more for it,” Azriel begins, subconsciously squeezing your hand as you both stroll. You’re not sure what he’s going to say which unnerves you but you don’t interrupt. “I think you’re wonderful. I have waited so long for my mate and at times, I convinced myself that perhaps I was just destined to be alone. The Mother gave me my shadows and they were all the company I was to have, I was too cold and unfeeling and angry for anything else. But you have changed me, and in such a short time and with so few words. I want to be where you are, always. I want to hear the thoughts that you keep hidden through fear of taking up too much time or making too much noise. I want you to release the tension in your shoulders from keeping yourself so hunched and small all the time. And I know it’ll take time to earn your trust and ease. But I would hate for a communication issue to be the thing that holds us back so I just want you to know that I’m completely in this. I’m yours and I'm not going anywhere.”

You exhaled a long breath as Azriel finished his monologue and risked a glance at you to gauge your reaction.

“You know, when I first arrived, Feyre told me we’d probably be the first mates in history to figure out a way to communicate without any words or mind links at all because you don’t like to speak unless necessary and I’m so timid. I think she may have misled me,” you smiled softly. Azriel chuckled. “Thank you for telling me all of that. You are changing me too and I’m sorry I can’t often show it but I will keep trying every day. And I’m completely in this too, there is nowhere else that holds any meaning for me now I’ve got a home with you.” You confessed, your cheeks hot but your eyes honest.

Your slow paces came to a stop as you each considered the feelings that had finally been aired tonight. Azriel placed a warm hand on the side of your face and tiled it up to face him, bathing your features in the warm glow of the sunset. Searching your eyes for discomfort and finding none, he slowly closed the distance between you and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. Pulling away just enough to meet your eyes again, you shared a smile and the bond hummed happily between your chests. Perhaps you would be the one cooking dinner soon.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you

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