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mmywanda · 8 months ago

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Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

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Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a dark fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! men & minors dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

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Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

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rooster-the-love-of-my-life · 7 days ago

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Idiots At a Wedding pt.4

Summary: Pretending to be Bob's girlfriend in front of his family has to be easy right? Right...?

Pairings: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, fake scenarios

A/N: Bobby's just like us girlies 😝😝 I'm very pathetic at writing love confessions and kisses so please, be kind. At first I was thinking of making this chapter longer, but I'm going tk be travelling day after and I do most of my writing at night, so I thought I'd give yall this today and then write in peace later. Anyways, happy reading and please don't be a stranger. Also, none of this is proof read, we die like men💪💪

series masterlist || part 3

To say you and Bob talked after you fully made out on his mother's porch would be a lie. A blatant, white faced lie.

As much as you would have liked to continue after being interrupted, or liked to have talked about the kiss, you didn't do any of it. Insted you both climbed the stairs to his room, changed out of your clothes and went right to sleep. You would think what happend would keep you up all night, but because of your general perpetual sleepiness and the alcohol in your system you slipped under the blanket of slumber pretty easily.

The next morning you woke, you found the bed empty, just like the morning before. But there was a certain uneasiness in the air that wasn't there the day before. After you freshened up and went downstairs, you were expecting to meet with the same chaos as yesterday, but the house was quiet. Mary and Annie were sitting on the couch, sipping their morning coffee while Andy slept soundly in the room.

"Morning." You announced yourself, making their heads turn to you. "Where is everyone?" Of course by everyone you meant just one person, Bob.

"Morning dearie." Mary greeted you, standing from her spot and rounding the kitchen island to grab a cup and pour you some coffee as well. "Bob and Jeff had to go visit the venue today. The manager's being a bit of an ass, so the boys went down there to see what's wrong."

"We should have sent her in place of Jeff. I'm sure that idiot would be intimidated by two navel officers." Annie commented once you and Mary sat down as well.

"That's true, but don't you worry about it." She patted her daughter's leg. "They'll handle the situation just fine."

You didn't know what to think in that moment. Half of you was sad you couldn't see Bob today, cause the job he was working on wasn't an easy on. But the other half of you was relieved since this distance gave you some time to get your thoughts and feelings in order, but knowing yourself, you knew you were just going to end up overthinking the whole day.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you and Robby last night." Annie whispered, once her mother was up and out of earshot. "I didn't mean to act like a total cockblock, but I guess I did."

"It's alright." You waved your hand I'm a way if dismissal. If only she knew the truth of what was happening, if only.

"Please tell me yall did some hanky panky last night. I'd love to know at least someone's getting some each night." Annie sighed, sprawling across the armrest. "Having a kid is not for the weak. It's like you've birthed a perpetual cockblock. But I must admit, the process was quiet fun." She winked at you as she said the last part, making you short out with laughter.

"Well we-" You stared, but were waved quiet by her.

"Actually, no. I don't wanna know about the sex life of my baby brother. That is where I draw the line." You couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably at the turn the conversation had taken.

You two talked for about an hour after that, discussing whatever came to your mind. You asked her how Jeff and her met, she asked you how life in the navy was. You told her about your high-school debate team days and she told you all about college swim meets. You were finding a really, true friend in Annie and you just couldn't bare the thought of breaking her heart if she ever found out the truth.

"Have you ever thought of having kids?" She asked, handing you your second cup of coffee.

"I-I've never actually thought of it." You stuttered out. You were lying of course, you had thought of kids, a husband, a house near the sea. You'd thought of it all, but always kept these thoughts close to yourself. "Oh who am I kidding. I have thought it, so much that my head hurts at times."

Annie trusted you and you trusted her, so you saw no point in hiding or lying to her about this.

"I've never told this to anyone, but I've thought about this whole ordeal so much that I fear I might have jinxed it." You elaborated. "You know, every since I was a kid, I've had this image of being the person who was always opposed to love. I never dated anyone in high school or college, I never even had a crush. So everyone expected that I would become the crazy single aunt in the future. But to be honest, all I want out of my life is a family. A good husband, beautiful, messy kids, stinky dogs, a big house near the sea. I want it all. But I'm so afraid that I'm going to get real close to it and as soon as I let myself think it's all actually happening for me, someone will turn the lights on and it'll all be a big prank."

"It's not wrong to want all those things and also being scared of it." Annie started, placing a hand comfortingly on yours. "But this fear might lead you to miss out on few of the best things in life. You'd never know if having a family is for you or not if you never try."

You smiled upon hearing her advice. She was right of course, but that still didn't stop your fear. You squeezed her hand in a way to say thanks, getting a firm, warm squeeze back.

"Our Bobby in any of your big plans?" She wiggles her eyebrows at you playfully, acting like she hadn't asked yout the most difficult question of all.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You brushed her off, but your heart was beating like a train on the tracks.

"Oh come on, you might not be able to tell me things about you sex life, but you can tell me if you think you have a future with him or not." She pushed, and you being the weak hearted woman you are, gave in.

"He's the only one I see a life with." You whispered, eyes falling to your coffee cup.

Annie let out a string of aww's, smiling widely at your confession. "Well, I can surely tell you he sees one with you."

"He does?"

"Oh yes he does. Wanna know how I know?" She leaned in, as did you, intrigued about what she was going to say next. "He let's you call him Bobby."

The speed by which a laugh escaped you was astronomical. You didn't mean to laugh, but to you her reasoning seemed so absurd. "That's not the reason."

"It sure is. He dosen't let anyone call him Bobby, ever, not even when he was a kid."

"I still don't believe you."

"Alright, why don't we do a little experiment to prove my theory?" She proposed.

"You have my attention." You raised an eyebrow.

"When he comes back home, I'll call him Bobby first and we'll see what his reaction is. And then you call him Bobby and see what his reaction is. If I'm right, you owe me five dollars."

"And if you're not you owe me ten." You placed your hand in front of her.

"Done." She shook you hand, confident e radiating off her face. Before either one of you could say anything else, loud cries came from Annie's room, indicating Andy woke up. "Ah, duty calls. I can't wait to see you lose."

"Keep waiting."

--------------------

Carrying all these big, messy emotions along with all the lies was eating at you. You thought this would be easy, but boy were you a foolish girl back then. This was by far the hardest thing you had ever done in your life, harder than flying a jet, harder than going on deadly assignments. And the only other person in the world who understood your situation, was the only person in the world youu couldn't talk to.

You need to talk about your feelings to someone, anyone. So the only right thing to do was to call up your entire call list and find a poor victim to rant to. The first person you tried was Phoenix, but her phone was busy. Next, it was Rooster, who was waiting football with Fanboy and Coyote, crossing two other people off your list. The last person left was the one person you fought with the most, Hangman.

Even though you were reluctant to call him, you had no other viable option. You dialed his number, secretly praying he wouldn't pick up, but when the call went through in the first ring, and his obnoxious voice poured though your speaker, you had to talk.

"Hey sunny, finnaly got a break from eye fucking little baby on board and realized you had other friends?"

"What's up Hangman?" You asked, trying to not jump into your problems from the get go and making it all about yourself.

"Nothjng much, Maverick's being a dick, as usual. Hondo is still getting off from watching us do all those pushups." He recounted the events for you. "I must say, it's been really nice since you've left. We've finally got some peace and quiet."

"Oh come on, fess up, you miss me the most." A smile played off on your face, even if you hadn't talked to the dagger squad for a really long time, you could always just pick up where you left off with them.

"Keep dreaming Sunny." He brushed you off, knowing damn well you were telling the truth. "Anyways, what's up with you? Any particular reason why you called me? Bob's quietness finally getting to you?"

"No." You rolled your eyes, starting to regret your decision a little bit, but still continued. "Actually, I did want to talk to you about something."

"Everything alright?" Jake asked worried, alerted by the chance in your voice.

"Yes, no, I don't know." You whined, falling onto the bed. "You have to promise not to tell anyone or laugh at what I'm about to tell you."

"Me making such promises depends on what you're about to tell me."

"Jake." You whined, irritated by his antics.

"Alright fine, I won't laugh or tell anyone. Happy? Now tell me what's up."

"So, funny story. I'm pretending to be Bob's girlfriend in front of his family for the duration of the wedding and last night we kissed each other even when there was no one around and now I don't know where we stand." You let everything out in one breath, biting the inside of your cheek, waiting to hear Hangman's reaction.

There was silence on the other side for a few seconds, you thought the connection might have gotten lost and you'd have to tell him what happed again. But when the sound of his annoying laughter flowed into your ears, you knew had made a mistake.

"Shut up." You grumbled, burying your face into the pillows.

"Wait, wait. Let me get this straight." He weezed through laughter. "You agreed to be Bob's fake girlfriend, the same Bob you've been in love with since forever, and now that things have blown up in your face, you're worried. This stupid even for you Sunny."

"Fuck off man, I didn't know this was going to happen."

"How didn't you?" He stressed. "Anyone could see this coming from a full universe away. But what excatly is the problem, he's not a good of a kisser as you thought?"

"No." You exclaimed almost too quickly. The thing is, we've been pretending to be a couple this whole time, but the things he's doing are making my brain short circuit."

"Elaborate."

"He's been calling me nicknames like sweetheart and darling. He's been touching me randomly, grabbing my hand or casually placing his hand on my waist. And then when we kissed in front of his family, he leaned in for more. More!" By now you were pacing around the room, recounting every little detail to Jake like a madman. "This was all fine, but last night we were coming back from dinner, no one else was with us, no one was watching, and we kissed. Kissed as in our lips touched and our tongues were halfway down each other throats-"

"I know what kissing is, keep the wattpad description to yourself." Jake butted in, fully grossed out.

"And then today when I woke up he wasn't there, and now his sister is saying thst she can see it on his face that he loves me. I'm going to pose my mind, I really am."

"Okay, calm down. Take a deep breath and sit down." Jake said trying to soothe you. "Now listen to me carefully. I might not know a lot of things, but one thing I do know is that Bob is not acting, he's not pretending, if you would have called anyone other than me, they would have told you the same thing. Cause for the past year and a half we've seen the fuck me eyes you two have been making at each other all the damn time while being scared to even talk to each other properly. Sunny, this is your opportunity. Go and get him. We all know Bob's not going to say anything, but you have to. You have to tell him you like him, you have to take this chance. Cause if you don't, believe me you're going to end up regretting it for the rest of your life. Now, whenever he comes back home, pull him aside and tell him the truth, trust me, it'll be worth it."

---------------

On the other side of town, Bob was crashing out. The entire car ride upto the wedding venue, all he thought of was the kiss, the feeling of your lips on his, how soft they felt, how sweet they tasted. If he put his mind to it, he could still taste the faint strawberry chapstick you had on, and it was making him feral. Evey single love song that came on the radio, he started associating with you and making scenarios to go along with them.

At one point he feard the mental asylum was the only place left for him to go.

Thankfully this time around Jeff hadn't noticed anything, being too tired to do so, and Bob had some time alone with himself to get his thoughts in order. The first thing he ascertained was that he no longer liked you. He was now completely, crazily, deeply in love with you. The kind of love where you start imaging what your house would look like and start picking out baby names. The kind of love that lasted even after one perished, the kind of love he always saw in his parent.

The second thing he confirmed to himself was that he needed to act on it, no matter how hard it got for him, no matter if he was sacred, he had to let you know. He couldn't even imagine losing you now that he almost had you. And if by chance he did, he would never forget himself, never walk down the road of love ever.

The only problem in this was that he still wasn't sure if you liked him back or not. A part of him was certain that you had just gotten sine drunk and kissed him in the spur of the moment. But the other part of him, the one thst worked on evidence, suggested different. You were the one who leaned in and kissed him first, you had to have liked him to do this.

Bob ended up in an endless cycle of 'she loves me she loves me not', a cycle not even the rude manager at the wedding venue could get hum out off. He thanked his older sister mentally thst day for marrying an intimidating man eho handled the situation mostly by himself, giving him chance to sprial even more.

On the ride back home, the sun was setting, cool wind was blowing through the car. He was staring at the landscape that passed him, when the radio started playing something by the Beatles. He had heard that song before, but he never really understood why Frank Sinatra regarded it as the greated love song ever written, until his mind started playing a montage of all the memories he had of you. The further the song played, every word, evey beat of the drum, every strum of the guitar just consolidated his resolve.

He was ardently, irrevocably in love with you.

----------------------

They reached home just in time for dinner, greeted by the smell of mouth watering food and light chatter. Everyone was already in the kitchen. Lucy and Annie were sitting on the high stools at the kitchen island watching their mother teach you an old family recipe when they arrived.

"Hey boys, how'd it go?" Annie greeted her husband with a small kiss as he slid into the stool next to hers.

"It went well." He answered, sighing deeply. "As well as it could go. He wanted more money out of us, but one look at Bob's ID and it was all sorted."

"Wasn't I telling you out Bobby could do it ma?" Annie slyly slipped in the world, on a mission to prove you wrong. You killed your head up upon hearing it and looked first at Annie, confirming the plan was in motion and then at Bob who was harboring an uncharacteristic sour face.

"Don't call me that." He grumbled, the change in his demeanor immediately noticeable. "I've told you a billion times to neve call me that."

"Oh come on, I've got to have a nickname for my baby brother." She pressed, amusement oozing off of her.

"Call me Robby like everyone else." The man offered, taking a gulp of cool water.

"Special nickname." All she got in return was a deathly glare from her younger brother.

It was now you time to test the theory. You were a hundred percent sure that you were going to get the same reaction out of him. So, with the sweetest voice you could possibly muster up, you cleared your throat and called out to him.

"Bobby, could you came and try this for me please? Tell me how it tastes."

His ears perked the second the sentence left your mouth, and he was already moving to you. You were in complete disbelief, did he really respond to Bobby just when you said it? It had to be a lie, he would come close and tell you not to call him that, but it never happened.

"Sure darling." He came and stood right behind you, muscular arms resting on either side, trapping you in between himself and the counter. He opened his mouth, patiently waiting for you to feed him the sauce, and it was the hottest thing you had ever seen a man do. If his whole family wouldn't have been there, you would have long forgotten the sauce and had him right there on the counter. "Mhh, tastes real good."

At that moment Bob saw an opportunity and he seized it. A little but of sauce had tricked down you hand and was reating on you palm. He grabbed the hand from the back, lifted it close to his mouth and licked it off of you. If what he'd done previously hadn't made you lose your mind, this just made you absolutely feral.

"I need to talk to you. Come up to our room in a bit." He whispered in you ear, as you stood still dumbstruck by what had just happened. "I'm gonna go take a bath before dinner." He announced, and then disappeared.

Where he had gotten this sudden burst of confident from, you had no clue. But this confidence was making him insanely attractive to you.

"Pay up." Annie snapped you out of all the filthy thoughts you were having about your co-worker when she put he hand in front of you to handher the five doller you had bet. "Didn't I tell you this was going to happen?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You grumbled, rolling your eyes while handing her the five dollers. "I'm gonna go and freshen up a bit if you don't mind. All this cooking has left me so so tired, I don't know how you do it Mary."

"Oh don't you worry about it dearie, you'll get the hang of it soon." She smiled, and you were off, almost sprinting up the stairs. Your heart couldn't take this gane of cat and mouse anymore, you were eager to find out what Bob was going to say to you.

Your confidence faltered the moment hkj reach the door, finally understanding the gravity of the situation. Cautiously, knocked on the floor before pushing it in to find Bob sitting on the bed, his back to you. He stood up once he heard the door open.

"Hi." He whispered. You could figure he was nervous right off the bat. So in attempt to ease the tension you made small talk.

"Hey, how was your day?"

"Pathetic." He blurted, shocking you.

"Everything okay? Did something happen at the venue?"

"Everything's not okay. Nothing is okay Sunny." Bob was looking right into your eyes as the words poured out of his mouth. Your heart was beating wildly, for a second you thought he might be able to hear you. You opened your mouth to ask him what happend, but he cut you off before you could even open you mouth.

"Nothing has been right for the past year Sunny. I used to be a normal guy before, I used to find people attractive, even went out on a couple dates but it all went out the window when I first saw you. You walked into the hard deck five minutes late with the biggest, brightest smile on your face and I swear, I haven't been the same from that moment. Form that night no one in the world could remotely come close to you. You're this wonderful, brilliant, beautiful, woman, the life of every party, everyone's favorite, everyone's best friend. You make anyone you meet feel like the center of the universe by the way you pay attention to them, you could talk up a tree if given the chance. And God it sacred the living shit out of me. I have never liked someone the way I have liked you, and once I saw you're this loud and exuberant, I started hiding from you, cause I never in my wildest dreams though you would go for someone like me. I hopeless and awkward and quiet and I'm so-"

"Shut up. Just shut up Bobby." Your legs moved on there own and crossed the room. You grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed hin right on the mouth. This time, he didn't hesitate. All the desperation, all the time you had missed pining over each other was poured into that one kiss. He had pulled you in so close, held you so tight, you didn't know where you ended and he started and you would have it any other way.

"I might not be good with words," You started, resting your head against his, gasping for air. "But I can kiss you dumb."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He whispered, pulling up back in, engulfing your mouth with his own. Both your bodies felt as if they were on fire, and it was the best feeling you had ever felt. You stayed like this for a few more moments, just kissing each other, making up for lost time. "Wait, so this means you like me back?"

"Yes you idiot." You giggled, giving him another soft kiss, as his shoulder relaxed.

"Thank God. But there's two things I want you to know Sunny."

"What is it?"

"Number one, I'm taking you out on a proper date tommrow. And I mean proper, fancy restaurant, flowers, the whole shebang." He counted, making your heart melt and your cheeks turn rosy.

"And number two?" You questioned.

"Now that I have you, there's no way I'm letting you go."

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aetherraeys · 2 months ago

Text

all the way

(visual learner pt1, pt2 )

poly!marauders x afab!reader ⊹ 10.9k

cw ⟢ smut, mdni +18, swearing, inexperienced!reader, lots of praise, teasing, oral (f&m rec) piv, insecurity about inexperience, shy!reader, fingering, lots of pet names

summary: you cant seem escape the pestering burn in the back of your mind that's itching for something, for more, to experience it all; or the isecurities that come along with it.

a/n: this took me too long to start bcs ive been dealing with migraines but its here at last!! a bit vulgar oh WELL not proofread x

A little discovery goes a long way.

Or at least you thought it would, since you essentially broke the seal between you and your very adoring boyfriends, there as been a lot of exporation, learning—mastering even. But it seems you’ve hit an unexpected blockade.

One that fixing seemed to be more complex than you’d imagined.

Now, there was nothing wrong by any means. According to Remus, you were becoming rather skillful with your lips, in a way that would make Sirius proud. And you were most definetely gaining insight into things; likes, dislikes, habits—kinks.

All sorts of interesting things; like how, out of all of them, James is particulary handsy, as if he cannot physically get enough of you—like he’s making up for lost time. Drinking in any and all skin on skin, somehow always touching you in one way or another.

Frequently stirring awake to feel his arm wrapped around your middle, lips pressing gentle kisses to your jaw, his voice hoarse and whispered when you crack open your eye with a small hum.

“g’morning,”

The sun had barely taken it’s place in the sky, and your early bird boyfriend has picked you as his victim today, though, you can hardly be angry when he’s so warm against you, smiling into your skin as he kisses his way up to your lips. Fingertips grasping at the flesh of your waist as he pulls you closer—using his free hand to brush the straggling hair out of your face as he pulls away.

Admiring your semi-awake face, pout slowing becoming more evident on your lips when you catch sight of the clock—head falling into his chest with a quiet grumble.

He can’t help but huff a chuckle as his hand trails down your spine, slipping under the fabric of Sirius’ shirt, lips once again finding the curve of your jaw. “m’sorry, pretty. I know it’s early,”

James really is devious, because he knows exactly how to pacify you—and it doesn’t take much, a few peppered kisses and some sweet words and he found that you’d become adorably agreeable. He’d been awake for a while, fighting—persuading himself that he shouldn’t be so selfish and should let you sleep, but he couldn’t help it. Not when you were cuddled against him so sweetly.

You didn’t have much fight in you either, still sleepy as you melted into his touch, and after a few more kisses—suddenly being awake didn’t seem so bad. Mewls muffled by James’ lips when his hands slides down your back to the curve of your thigh, hitching your leg to rest on his hip.

The light rustle of fabric drew you away from each other, panting with flushed lips as James peeked over your shoulder—making sure you hadn’t disturbed Sirius and Remus. Tangled together in an unclear mass of sleeping limbs under the sheets.

When his gaze flickered back to you, he wasted no time reconnecting your lips, kissing you deeper—tongue swiping against the seam of your lips, swallowing each small noise. You really were trying to be quiet, mindful of your sleeping partners just an arms length away—but it was getting harder and harder to keep your focus on stay quiet. Especially when James’ hand was trailing under the waistband of your shorts and his honeyed tone filled your ears.

“just wanted a bit of you before i left, love,”

His lips against your skin becoming more insistent, smirking into it at the sound of your shuddering breath. Pulling away to get a glimpse of your expression—teeth pressed into your bottom, failing to dull your escaping whine, brows pinching further with each sink of his fingers into you core.

Curling and curving into your walls and it had you squirming into his hold.

A sharp gasp leaving your lips when James nipped at the thin skin below your ear, freezing for a moment at the small sound of shuffling sheets behind you. But to your misfortune, James just continues to push into you at a faster pace—murmuring against you just before his lips capture yours, “Shhhh, stay quiet f’me pretty girl,”

Squeezing your eyes shut as you clenched around his digits—your hands gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, bucking into his palm as your high washed over you. And James just hummed lowly into the kiss, muttering as he trailed his lips down your neck, “fuck, so perfect—thank you,”

You were still shuddering as he slipped his hands out of your shorts, chest rising in uneven patterns as James brought his slick coated fingers to his lips, a smirk twitching at the corners. His other hand was running up and down you spine while your breath leveled.

But before you could fully recalibrate your brain, he was pressing a firm kiss to your lips and whispering about something about being back later. Quietly slipping out of the sheets, and padding towards the bathroom, before your protests had the opportunity to leave your tongue.

He was gone.

And even if your tried, you couldn’t to miss the clear tent of his boxers.

Another wave of sleep tempted you, you couldn’t help but wonder—a small creeping thought making its way to the forefront of your mind. Subdueing all faint hints of potential slumber with its invasive nature.

Again was all you could think.

It was becoming an increasing common occurance. They always indulged, took care of—doted on you. Not that you were complaining.

But before you could even think about approaching the subject of you returning anything, they were gone.

Granted, it was all uncharted grounds, but it was starting to feel like you were the only one paying attention to the elephant in the room. There was a seperation, almost like it was you and them.

And you hear them sometimes in the house, James and Sirius showering together—their moans and mewls ringing above the sound of cascading water and bouncing off the porcelain walls. You’ve seen it even, stumbling across a door left ajar and seeing Sirius on his knees infront of Remus—hand tangled into his locks, small gasps filling the room.

There was a balance, a give and take—and with you?

Well, it felt like you were just taking.

And though you were well aware of the fact that you didn’t know how to give, it was really starting to gnaw at you—because you wanted to try, wanted more—wanted to make them feel good.

But there was no real right way to go about the subject, at least not one that didn’t make you wish the earth would split open and swallow you whole.

Even as you sat at the dining table, forking at the lunch James had so kindly prepared for you all. You couldn’t focus, mind spiralling out of control, each thought more ridiculous and less plausible than the last.

‘You don’t even know what to do—you wouldn’t be able to make them feel good.’

Suddenly it was much harder to swallow the bit of toast you’d been chewing for far too long—forcing it down as a small frown crept its way onto your lips. Letting your fork rest on the edge of your plate, nails subconsciously starting to pick a the skin around your nails.

Brows furrowing just slightly as you pennied the irrational thoughts that whirled every corner of your mind—internally conflicted. Because you knew they loved you, no matter what, outside of everything else—there was no doubt in your mind.

And you were enough, you knew your worth didn’t depend on your ability to please.

So why did it suddenly feel like the be all and end all of everything?

Plagueing every thought, making you read into every interaction, every passing touch that was meant to be comforting—now had you second guessing everything.

Gods, it was making you feel so pathetic.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t heard Sirius calling you, even after the third time—still staring at your plate absentmindedly. And when his hand made contact with yours, you all but jumped out of your skin, feeling all the eyes in the room on you.

“Woah—you alright, love?”

Sirius’ voice was light, laced with that same teasing lilt—lips curled at the corners in mild amusement, thumb tracing small circles into your skin. You let out small sigh through your nose as you pushed everything you were thinking about into the back of your mind—forcing your lips to match the curve of Sirius’ as you spoke.

“Oh—sorry, yeah. Just a bit tired,”

You also failed to notice James behind you and closing in—pressing a firm peck to the mark he’d left earlier that morning. Walking over to the sink with a stack of plates in his hand as he cooed playfully, “Sorry about that, love.”

Sirius was watching you more intently that you’d realised—if your barely touched plate wasn’t an indication of anything, then the tight lipped smile you gave him in combination with your previous statement did nothing to convince him.

He let his eyes flicker over to Remus, who was also looking at you, brows arched in curiosity at James’ words—waiting for you to expand. Parted your lips as you took in air to fuel your words, before stuttering out the start of several words—feeling heat rise under your cheeks when your lips eventually clamped shut.

James snicker when he turned around, leaning against the sink as he dried his hands—the smirk on his face becoming more smug by the second as your gaze darted around the room. He was so casual, so candid with his words and you had no idea what to do with it.

“Showed our girl a little love before I went on my run, that’s all,”

The tips of your ears were burning under the pressure of his gaze, and as he stalked over—leaning to take your plate of cold food away, his hand soothing over the curve of your neck. You all but frozen, spine tensing up, goosebumps spreading over the surface of your skin from the heat of his palms, feeling very much like a deer caught in headlights.

Remus didn’t say much, just hummed lowly with a nod far too knowing for your liking and all you wanted to do was shrink away from the attention.

Slipping your hand out from under Sirius’ as you reach for your glass of water, James had already made this way around, perching himself recklessly on the kitchen counter as he continued to speak with Remus.

Sirius on the other hand, was still watching you from the corner of his eyes—as you tried to sneak away after washing your glass—he waited a few moments before trailing after you.

Leaning against the door frame of the living room—watching as you sat in your corner seat of the sofa—a book open and forgotten on your lap, staring out the window. He waited a few more long moments before settling into the seat beside you, arm instinctively slinging around your shoulder.

When you turned to him, he had an expectant look on his face—as if he was waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to spill your guts to him, and it made your pulse pick up slightly. Praying to the Gods that he wouldn’t pry, just let you get over whatever was swarming your mind, taking your attention.

“I can see the cogs turning, sweetheart. Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

Obviously, Sirius saw right through you, and it probably didn’t help that you were doing such a bad job at hiding the small turmoil that was building in you. Accidently confirming his suspicious when you tensed under his touch, body still as stiff as a board next to him.

You just hummed, tearing your gaze away from his and back down to you book—fingers fiddling with the hem of your sleeve as you spoke, “Hmm? Nothing’s on my mind, Siri. Just tire—”

“Tired?”

Sirius cut you off, finishing your poor excuse for you, watching as your lips pursed together for a second—fighting the urge to knaw into the flesh. He was still watching you so intently, eyes boring into your profile, feeling the way your shoulder sunk slightly before you looked him again.

Taking a second to let your eyes scan over his face, you knew he didn’t believe you. But there really was no way you were going to let this extend any further than yourself, instead you just doubled down, leaning into his chest, forcing your body to relax—willing away the tension as your closed your eyes, murmuring again that you were just tired.

His hand soothed over the the skin of your arm, Sirius knew better than to force it out of you—he was by no means going to let it go, but he’d give you at least a day or two to prove to him that it really was just lack of sleep.

You failed.

It has been three days since Sirius first noticed you being ‘tired’. Truthfully, he didn’t know what else to call it—he’d also noticed how in those three days, you’d withdrawn a bit. Coming to bed the latest, sleeping turned away and slipping out at random times in the night—and you hadn’t so much as given any of them a peck since that first morning.

Whatever it was, he’d had enough ****of it stealing you away.

Sirius was no where near as tentative as Remus, and suprisingly more vigilant than James—but the pair hadn’t made any move to pry. And well, Sirius just wasn’t patient enough.

You were sitting in the living room alone—James and Remus lounging in the bedroom. This time, you were actually reading, comfortable in the silence that surrounded you, barely sparing Sirius a glance as he plopped onto the sofa beside you—unnecessarily close, practically on your lap.

Your tone was deceivingly light when you spoke, “What’s up, Siri?”

He shifted to angle his body closer to you, plucking the book from you lap and placing it face down on the arm of the sofa, raising a brow skeptically and letting his gaze linger on your face.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

It was only a fraction of a second, but Sirius saw the way your face dropped at his questioning before you sighed, bitelessly rolling your eyes, automatically spouting out that you’re fine. That wasn’t enough though. And he wasn’t going to let it go.

Practically staring into your soul as he frowned at you, voice just as soft as his touch over your arm. And as he spoke he saw it again, the faltering in your expression, a small crack as you averted your gaze.

"You're doin’ that thing again," he murmured.

Blinking at him, a little too slow, head tilted just enough to feign curiosity. "What thing?"

He sighed, a sound that came more from his chest than his throat, all weight and low thunder. “The thing where you pretend you’re here with us but your head’s off somewhere chewing itself up.”

There was no response, not right away. A small silence filing the room, you weren’t sure if you had the words—or worse, you were afraid you did, and they’d make everything real if you said them aloud.

Sirius shifted closer, until his thigh was flush against yours and the scent of leather and warm oak and his specific brand of recklessness filled your senses. Still, you said nothing. Quietly loud and sharp and unnatural, like the absence of static in a too-quiet room. It made his chest ache.

“Alright,” he said, voice low, brushing his fingers beneath your chin and tilting your head just slightly toward him. “Time to talk, sweetheart.”

You froze—for barely a fraction of a second. But somehow just long enough for him to catch it. Then, you forced a breath through your nose, lashes lowering as if the floor might offer escape.

“Sirius, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He huffed a dry, humorless laugh, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

Watching you for a long moment in silence, as you unravel in micro-expressions, cataloguing each one like clues to a puzzle he’d already decided he was going to solve. The kind of silence that felt heavier than normal. Expectant. And you felt it—crawling over your skin, settling in your stomach. Like he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

When you still didn’t say anything, he leaned in closer, voice softer now. “You think we haven’t noticed? The late nights, the cold shoulders, the way you can’t even look at us for more than five seconds?”

You shifted, discomfort flickering in your eyes — and still, you said nothing. He waited anyway.

“You know,” he started slowly, stretching out along the couch, his head tipping back lazily against the cushion, “you’re really shit at pretending.”

Your eyes didn’t leave your lap as you spoke, “I’m not pretending anything.”

That made you finally glance at him, startled and caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone, the softness beneath the teasing. Sirius’ brow arched slightly as you opened your mouth—and then closed it again.

He waited.

You looked away.

“I just…I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime.”

You let out a quiet snort, despite yourself.

He smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You’ve been pulling away.”

“I haven’t—”

“You have.” There was no accusation in his tone, just quiet certainty. “We notice, you know. Me. James. Remus.” Tilting his head to eye you sideways, “You flinched when I brushed your hand this morning. Jumped when James kissed your shoulder. I’ve seen ghosts more relaxed than you’ve been lately.”

Sirius shifted beside you, a little closer, but still careful. Just enough to make his presence known.

Shame pinched in the pits of your stomach as you swallowed. “It feels like I’m the only one who’s… not giving. Like I’m just taking and taking and I want to—I want to give, to make you feel good too. But I don't even know how. And I don't want to make it awkward, or ruin anything, or mess up what we already have—"

“Stop,” he cut in gently, not unkindly. “You haven’t ruined anything. There’s nothing to ruin. You know that, right?”

You bit your lip, hard. “It feels like there is. Like I’m…I don’t know. Like I’m some kind of charity case you’re all doting on because I’m clueless and eager and always ready to melt for you. And I know it’s stupid—”

“It’s not,” he interrupted, voice firm. “Don’t do that.”

Sirius blinked, eyebrows drawing together. “Is that seriously what you think?”

You didn’t trust your voice to answer, throat too tight—just shrugging dismissively.

There was a pause, before his hand reached for yours, warm and comforting as his fingers laced through yours.

“I’m going to tell you something,” he said, voice lower now. Earnest—real. “We love taking care of you. Love watching you unravel. Love the way you trust us, how open you are—how you light up when you feel good.”

He tipped his head to meet your gaze. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t want you. All of you. Your pleasure, yeah, but your desire, too. The messy, fumbling, sweet little things you want to try, even if you don’t get them right the first time.”

Heat crept its sway from your collar upwards, settling beneath your ears, but that familiar, magneticness that spilled from him held your gaze—and suddenly it feel like you were trying hard not to lean into him.

“And you don’t need to know what you’re doing,” he added, thumb brushing over the back of your knuckles, “that’s the fun part. Discovering it together. Letting us teach you. Letting us feel and learn you, when you’re the one touching, or tasting, or wanting.”

It had your pulse stuttering beneath your chest, heat spreading from your ears to skin of your cheeks.

“You want to try?” Sirius asked, quieter now. A murmur between just the two of you. “You wanna learn how to make us fall apart the way you do?”

All at once the air in the room felt a bit thinner, even as you nodded, slowly as first—than firmer, more eager.

“Good,” he murmured, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Because we want that, too.”

You exhaled shakily, something intoxicating about his words, his tone, how his breath fanned over you and the way the proximity felt much less than before—as a sense of relief, warmth and a strange little bubble of excitement rose beneath your skin.

It’s so subtle, so smooth, that at first you barely register the shift—just the warmth of his body folding closer, the brush of his knee against yours, the scent of something familiar and faintly woodsy curling around your senses like smoke.

Then his lips are at your ear, breath curling soft and hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Could show you right now, if you want.”

Every muscle locks up, spine straight, breath caught halfway to your lungs—freezing. His voice is honeyed, velvet and enticing, every word dipped in a promise that hums through you like static. Lips ghosting over your jaw, a breath away from touching. Almost. Not quite.

You only nod.

It’s barely a motion—more instinct than thought—but he pulls back slowly, and there’s a look on his face like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. His smirk is small, private but the glint in his eyes makes your stomach tighten and twist in anticipation.

“Wait here, lovely,” he says, voice low and threaded with something dark and pleased.

Then Sirius is standing—disappearing down the hallway, and slips into the bedroom.

There’s only the small sound of a whining hinge as the door creaked open. Muffled voices— hushed, indistinct murmurs. And it makes your hair stand on end. Something electric crackles at the base of your spine, and you fidget, fingers restless on your knees, heart beating too loud in the quiet that follows.

You barely have time to get your bearings before Sirius reappears.

He standing there for a moment, in the doorway, watching you. His gaze is heavy—dark and unwavering—and it pins you in place as surely as if he’d put hands on you, reaching out to you with a hand.

There a short beat before you take i, and he pulls you up, wordless, walking you backwards in slow, deliberate steps. His eyes never leave yours, and the air around you feels thicker and harder to move though when you arrive at the door. Because you can see them.

Remus and James.

They’re sitting on the bed—quiet, composed, eyes lifted to meet yours. There’s something unreadable in their expressions, something that flickers between curiosity and heat and something deeper.

James watches from the far side of the bed, one leg propped casually beneath him, elbow resting on his knee like he’s settling in for something he already knows is going to unfold slowly — deliberately. Gaze steady and flicking between you and Sirius with the faintest curl of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Observantly waiting—amused.

Remus shifts at the edge of the bed, legs parting slightly as he scoots forward, hands resting loose on his thighs.

His expression is softer, warmer. Familiar. When his eyes meet yours, he gives you a small, easy smile — like you’ve just walked into the common room instead of… this.

“Hey, dove,” he says, like it’s nothing. Like it’s everything.

You’re standing just behind Sirius, slightly to the side, his shoulder brushing yours. The room feels heavier now — not suffocating, but thick with heat and expectation. Your pulse is a roar in your ears, a steady drumbeat that drowns everything out until Sirius tilts his head, leaning in again.

“I told you I’d show you,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Gonna show you on Remus.”

Air catches in your throat—a soft, unintentional squeak of surprise slipping out before you can stop it. Eyes darting between the two boys on the bed, wide and unsure, a question trembling on your lips you don’t quite know how to ask.

“I—” Your voice stutters, coming out too small. “You don’t have to—I mean, I don’t want to take you away from what you were doing—”

Sirius huffs a soft laugh, the sound rumbling low in his chest, smug and fond all at once. He glances at Remus, who quirks a brow but doesn’t correct him. “Trust me, love,” Sirius says, eyes glinting. “Moony’d much rather have us on our knees than finish that book.”

And with no ceremony at all, Sirius sinks to his knees in front of him.

Your breath stalls completely.

He looks up at you from the floor, dark hair tumbling into his face, his smirk lazy and wicked—patting the carpetted space beside him—not demanding, just expectant.

You’re frozen for a beat. Maybe two.

Then your knees give the smallest wobble as you follow. Sinking down beside him slowly, heart fluttering wildly, eyes flicking up toward Remus—who sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, tongue darting out to wet his lips. There’s a quietness to his gaze that had your heartbeat quickening in your ears.

You press into the soft carpet, the fibers unfamiliar beneath your skin, grounding you in the moment as everything else floats just out of reach. Sirius shifts slightly beside you, the heat of his body brushing against yours, subtle but deliberate — an anchor. His thigh nudges yours gently, the pressure reassuring, coaxing. Your breath is shallow, eyes flicking upward again.

Remus hasn’t looked away.

He’s still watching you with that quiet intensity, like he’s trying to memorize the exact shade of your hesitation. His mouth curves at the corners — not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. Just… soft. Expectant.

“Doing good, love,” Sirius murmurs next to you, voice low and velvet-smooth. You swear you feel the words ripple through your spine. He doesn't look at you — he says it like he’s talking to himself, but it still lands square in your chest.

You’re still aware of James on the bed, leaning his chin into his palm, his elbow propped up on his knee. Observing. Not intruding. Just…amused, dark-eyed and humming with quiet interest. He doesn’t speak, but there’s something in the way his gaze lingers on your mouth, then dips lower, that makes your breath stutter.

“Rem,” Sirius says, still kneeling. His voice is almost teasing. “Tell her what you want.”

Remus tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly like he’s assessing you—peeling back layers without ever touching you. “I want you to show her,” he says, voice calm, level. He leans back on his hands, spreading his knees just a little wider on the edge of the mattress. “Thought that was the plan.”

The air around you all but froze,not urgency, not yet. But anticipation. The kind that prickles down your arms and settles in your gut like a coil waiting to snap.

Sirius shifts forward on his knees until his thighs bracket one of Remus’ legs, his back a straight line of calm control. And then, suddenly, he turns his head—not enough to break the moment with Remus, but enough to glance at you. His eyes flick down, then up, deliberate.

“You watching?” he murmurs.

Slowly, you nod—words caught in your throat.

Sirius smiles again, all teeth this time, and turns back toward Remus, hands trailing up Remus’ thighs with confident familiarity. And still—your gaze is locked in place. The sounds, the movement, the steady rise and fall of breath. The way Remus' jaw tightens when Sirius’ fingers dig in a little.

“You’re shaking,” Remus says suddenly, and you snap your gaze up to meet his. “Nervous?”

Your lips part slightly—to say yes, maybe, or no—but you don’t get the chance. Sirius speaks for you. “She’s excited,” he says, and there’s something in his tone that makes your cheeks burn even hotter.

“Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mouth feels too dry to voice words, clearing your throat and humming quietly with a nod.

Sirius shifts again—not to do anything yet, not quite. Just closer, just a little deeper into the space between Remus’ thighs. And his hand finds yours without looking, fingers brushing against your knuckles. “Come closer,” he says, not to Remus—to you.

And so you do. Shuffling forward, inch by slow, painstaking inch, until you’re beside him, eyes wide and breath held.

Remus leans forward, just a little, and his hand reaches out—just barely skimming along the curve of your jaw. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice adopting a warmer cadance—you nod again.

And Sirius, still knelt beside you, presses his lips to your shoulder. A small kiss, silent comfort.

“Then watch closely, love,” he says, voice dark with purpose. “Because this is just the beginning.”

His presence beside you was magnetic—all controlled heat and focused intent—but what strikes you most is how steady he is—eveything silently screaming that he’s done this before. He’s led before. But right now, he’s doing it with you, and something about that felt almost sacred.

Remus leans back again, propping himself up with one hand now, the other resting loosely on his own thigh. His eyes are on you again. But this time, there’s no teasing. Just warmth. Just patience. A quiet welcome, like he’s holding a door open for you and waiting for you to cross the threshold in your own time.

“You don’t have to do anything yet,” he says gently, voice barely more than a breath. “Just stay. Just watch me.”

Too much to say and no air to say it with—you swallow thickly and straighten your back, mumbling a small okay. Sirius hums in approval, the sound vibrating low in his throat, and you feel it more than you hear it. His hand drifts up your back, fingers trailing lightly along your spine. Goosebumps rise in their wake.

He doesn’t rush—none of them do. That’s what makes it worse. Or better. Or unbearable.

Because it means every second stretches longer. Every glance, every brush of skin feels deliberate. Designed. Like they’re building something out of you—sculpting the moment with nothing but touch and breath and proximity.

Sirius finally leans up towards Remus, lips ghosting across his throat, his jaw, like a slow exhale of reverence. Remus lets his head tip back just a fraction—an invitation that Sirius gladly took, latching his lips to the skin with a hum.

And you’re still watching.

Still feeling everything—the drag of Remus’ breath when Sirius’ mouth reaches his collarbone, the subtle shift of Sirius’ hand as shifts on Remus’ thigh, curling and curving upwards, gripping at the flesh. But more than that…you feel them both waiting—for you.

Sirius turns to you again, hand drifting over to yours. He threads his fingers with yours this time, and something about that small act—so simple, yet so intimate—and it makes something tighten in your chest. Raising your joined hands slowly, deliberately, to Remus’ knee, pressing your palm against the warm line of his leg.

Your eyes dart up when you hear another hitching breath from above you, Remus’ adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, gaze locked on your hands—the heat spreading through the thin fabric that seperates you.

Sirius was bold—smirking at both yours and Remus’ reactions, sliding the hand that was pawing at Remus’ thigh and inching it up towards the hem of his shirt, baring the skin.

The pads of his fingers dimpled the flesh as he leaned closer—pressing his lips into the skin of his hips—earning him a low hum of approval from Remus. And you watched as he smirked against him. Following Sirius’ movements in a wave of confidence, you scooted closer—letting your hand trail up from his knee joining Sirius’ in the tugging of Remus’ shirt and you felt him shudder beneath your palm.

Resting your head slightly on his knee as your eyes followed Sirius, observing every move he made and the reactions they earned.

There was a clear tent in Remus’ trousers now, accompanied with a light flush on the tops of his cheekbones, and you couldn’t help but admire him—and as Sirius palmed at his bulge—forcing a groan from his throat. The object of your watchful gaze changed quickly.

Sirius’ fingers were hooked under the waist band of his trousers, waiting a moment—just letting his fingertips brush over the skin beneath it before he detatched his lips from Remus’ stomach.

Eyes dark and on you—watching as you stared at his palm that covered Remus’ middle.

He huffed a chuckled through his nose, licking his lips as he leaning in closer to you—breath fanning over the curve of your neck when he spoke, “Shall we get these off him, love?”

The sound of his voice tore your gaze away from his hand, taking your bottom lip into your mouth as you hummed back to him. And by the time his trousers pooled by his ankles, Sirius had a positively wolfish grin on his face—almost preening at your reaction.

Because not only did Remus hiss slightly at the feeling of the cold air, but your eyes visibly widened when his length slapped up towards his abdomen—pupils blowing right before Sirius’ eyes.

It’s not like you’d never felt Remus before, pressed against you, usually clad under clothing—but for some reason, you’d assumed it was smaller. Or maybe just not this big. Almost intimidatingly long and pretty—tip matching the blush of his cheeks.

Sirius only snickered lightly, leaning in—tongue already peaking out from his lips as he licked a strip from the bottom of his shaft, all the way up. And you watched as Remus’ hands twitched by his side, sucking in sharp breath as his brows pinched on his forehead. Your hands unconsiously gripped at the flesh of his thighs, eyeing Sirius’ movements with purpose.

When he pulled away, Remus’ length glistened just as much as Sirius’ lips—and you swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth with a thick gulp the moment Sirius’ voice met your ears, low and candied.

“Doesn’t Rem look pretty?”

His smirk was dangerous as you nodded, words sending shivers down your spine as he whispered, just for you to hear—”Why don’t you tell him yourself, love?”

Remus was looking down at you both with half-lidded eyes, chest rising at a slightly faster pace than normal, hyper aware of the way your hand was curled around his thigh—trying his hardest to stay composed.

If the way you looked up at him, bleary and innocent, wasn’t enough to make his composure crack—the soft and sweet tone of your voice as it reached his ears was going to send him over the edge.

“Think you look so pretty, Rem,”

A low groan filled the air and his length physically jumped in Sirius’ hold—you noticed it straight away, eyes widening at the sight—staring at his middle intently.

Sirius was enjoying this all far too much, barely containing his delight as he caught your gaze, whispering “watch,” under his breath before he leaned in—taking Remus’ tip in his mouth while his hand worked small fists around the base.

And Remus’ eyes immediately screwed shut, voice trembling as he hissed out, “Fuck, Sirius,” hands fisting the sheets beside him when Sirius hummed around his length, taking more into his mouth.

You leaning in closer, eyes focused on each small motion that he made, each bob of his head, each moan that sounded from Remus.

He pulled his lips off with a satisfying pop—grinning at the way Remus shuddered against him, hand still twisting and pumping steadily around him.

Sirius had already diverted his attention to you—lips brushing against the curve of your jaw, his words ringing in your ears over and over. “Do you wanna try, sweetheart? Make Rem feel good?”

Your eyes scanned his face when he pulled back, nodding before you would really compute what it meant—before Sirius was shifting to the side, making space for you between Remus’ legs.

And it had your breath catching in your throat—Remus cracked an eye open at the rustling beneath him and his lips parted when your hand wrapped around his base.

Eyes flicker between Sirius and your hand. And you could feel the heat radiating off his length—when you twisted your hand upwards experimentally, he throbbed in your hand undeniably, gasping slightly.

Sirius all but preened at the reaction, leaning in and whispering a set on instruction into your ear, hand sliding down the curve of your spine in silent encouragement—to which you nodded to. Shifting your gaze back to Remus.

His self-control was fraying by the second, trying to be as still as possible, but having you between his legs, looking up at him with blown wide eyes—his resolve felt weak, and heat pooled in the pits of his stomach—sending all blood south.

Your palm was still dragging up his length in slow, tentative pumps—taking your time and trying not to think about it too hard. Sirius had made it look so easy, already having Remus breathless before he’d even touched him.

He could feel heat of your breath fanning over his length as you neared, gaze flitting up and down as you spoke softly, just barely above a whisper—but Remus heard it, like it was only for him.

“Can I?”

Gods, you were going to be the death of him. Nodding eagerly, words rushed and pinched; “Fuck—yes, dove,”

Careful and hesitantly, you leaned forward—tounge peaking out as you pressed it flush against the tip—eliciting a sharp shuddering gasp from Remus. And he used every cell in his brain to keep his eyes open, desperately wanting to be catch the moment your pretty lips wrapped around him.

Remus mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! when you finally do, tounge swirling and just barely sucking at the tip—and he squirmed in his seat when your head dipped lower, taking more of him in.

He wouldn’t dare tear his eyes away from the sight.

And when you pulled off of him, breathless, lips glistening, small strings of spit still connecting you—a small whispered Merlin sounded from beside you before you spoke, “s’that okay, Rem?”

Remus’ lips were stil parted, drinking in air greedily to fuel is racing pulse, palms sweaty and fidgetting at his side was he gulped, words breathy on an exhale, “more than okay—so good,”

Even that small praise was dizzying, it had your shoulder relaxing as an almost relieved and pleased smile twitched the corners of your lips.

Suddenly driven by a small confidence boost, you took him into your mouth again—earning you another low groan, his voice cracking at the end. You let your other hand trail up his thigh, resting along the short happy trail by your head—lowering your head further than the last time—humming slightly at the weight of him pressing onto your tongue.

Remus’ hips jumped involuntarily as he let out a loud moan—it sent his tip straight into the back of your throat and you jolted back with a choked gasp. Throat burning slightly drinking in sharp inhales of breath, cheeks flushed, face painted with a shocked expression.

Profuse, breatheless apologies already filled the space between you, “m’so sorry dove—didn’t mean to do that,” Remus shifting his weight onto one hand as he ran the other through his hair—eyes swiming with more unspoken apologies.

You were still trying to catch you breath, swallow the burning sensation that accompanied each breath—visibly confused for a moment as you looked to Sirius.

He didn’t look nearly as concerned as Remus did, which was comforting—because you couldn’t figure out what went wrong.

One hand was rubbing small circles into the small of your back, and the other trailed up and down Remus’ thigh as he spoke, lips curving into a smirk at your expression.

“The vibrations, sweetheart.” He leaned in closer, pressing a small kiss to the thin skin beneath your ear as he continued, “Made Rem feel…so good when you hummed—that’s why he did that, love,”

His lips on your neck were rather distracting, taking a few moments to respond with nothing more than a small, “Oh.”

And Sirius’ lips just stretched into a grin as he muttered into your skin, “Wanna try again?” Sighing contently into him, you nodded—eyes falling dark and back onto Remus.

The whispered instructions Sirius gave you echoed in your mind, take your time—but now when you pressed your tongue flat against the vein on the underside of his length—you were having other ideas.

Watching closely, looking up at Remus when you closed your lips around him, taking him in deeper, inch by inch—spurred on by the strangled moans that built in his throat.

Pausing a few inches from the base before reeling back and repeating—squeezing your thighs together when SIrius’ praise, velvet and soft reached your ears.

“Fuck—thaat’s it, sweetheart.”

Sirius tucked a straggling hair behind your ears, humming in approval as you focused on the tip, hand still fisting the base—and Remus was shaking beneath, using all his brain power to not buck into your touches, groaning out, “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” as he fisted the sheets with white knuckles.

You had no intention of rushing, slowly bobbing up and down, relishing in the salacious moans that ripped through Remus’ throat and the way he twitched and throbbed on your tongue.

But it was like a little devil was whispering into your ear, polluting your thoughts—egging you on to take more.

Letting your hand slip to rest on his stomach—all you wanted to do was make him feel good—sucking in a deep breath through your nose before swallowing around the tip; eliciting a lewd gasping groan from Remus.

But you kept going, dipping your head further, forcing every muscle to relax—not stopping till your nose met the small brown hairs at this pelvis.

Eyes squeezing shut, whimpering at the burn and stretch.

Remus’ jaw slacked, and he lost it—hands reliquishing their grip on the sheets in favour for your hair, eyes rolling back in his head as he gasped out “Shit shit shit oh-dove,”

God, Remus already thinks he could pass out.

Even as you pulled back—lips wet and eyes glossy—lungs burning as you drank in shuddering gasps of air, Sirius’ voice falling deaf on your ears. You can’t find it in you to mind the mild discomfort, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you looked up at Remus.

He truly was a sight.

Chest heaving, hair mussed, flush spreading from the tips of his ears to the center of his cheeks, his hand carding through your hair as his panted. Sirius was by your side still, speaking lowly again, “you okay, love? d’you need a minute?” pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

You shook your head almost instantly, gaze still locked on Remus as you muttered, “Wanna keep going,” Already leaning forward and taking Remus back into your hands.

He’d barely had enough time to recover before you took him back into your mouth, instinctively collecting your hair in a loose handful to keep it out of your face as you sunk down again.

Sirius was light praises and the gutteral moans that left Remus sending heat curling directly to your core—each hushed candied whisper of; ‘gooood girl’ and ‘taking him so well’ dizzying you.

When you sunk to the base again, willing away the slight gag that built in your chest, Remus’ hips bucked up into your mouth, his grip on your hair tightening—but instead of pulling off completely, you kept his tip buried in your plush mouth—whimpers muffled and tears prickling at your waterline, while you tried to steady your breathing.

Remus’ body shook as he spouted out delirously “Fuck—shit, m’sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh—fucking good.” words were slurred and rushed, drunk off the way you swallowed and hummed around him.

He cracked his eyes open, when your fingertips pressed into the flesh of his thighs, steadying yourself, and the sight of you almost had impossibly closer to the edge—coil in his stomach tightening when you looked up at him.

Tears clingling to your lashes, lips stretching lewdly around him with each bob and he could feel his sanity slipping away with each small whine that built in your throat.

Sirius leaned into you again, voice low and sultry in your ears, “Fuck, angel—he’s not gonna last long. d’you want him to cum?” you just leaned in closer—even as Remus gently tugged to pull you away. You didn’t let up, hallowing your cheeks with a muffled moan and he went rigid beneath your touch, spilling into your mouth in hot spurts.

Jaw slacking as his voice cracked—his high still washing over him, “fuckfuckfuck—mmfgh! dove, so good,” shuddering as you pulled off of him. Sirius immediately pressing small kisses to your skin, whispering hypnotically into your ear, “mmhm—swallow f’me, sweetheart,”

Your cheeks flushed further at his words, ignoring the way your lungs still burned for air as you swallowed—hearing Sirius hum in approve when your lips parted, sucking in deep breaths of air—leaning slightly into his hold.

Remus quickly leant down to you, trousers already resting low on his hips again. Tugging you out of Sirius’ hold and onto his lip, pressing his lips firmly onto yours, groaning at the contact.

Thighs splitting over his hips as he tugged you to straddle him fully, hands already smoothing up your sides, greedy in the way they gripped and slid and roamed like he couldn’t get enough, muttering against your lips, “throat alright, pet?” biting back the smirk that threatened to play on his lips.

His kiss was bruising—all tongue and teeth and breathy groans. You barely had time to catch your breath, nodding mindlessly, before you were chasing his mouth again, whimpering softly into the kiss as his hips shifted up, pressing flush to you with no shame, no hesitation.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as he licked into your mouth, pulling a gasp from your lips. Warm, solid beneath you, and the way he was touching you—like he was mapping every inch of skin he could reach—sent your head spinning.

Remus grunted softly, breaking the kiss only to press hot kisses down your jaw, your neck, and then he shifted—gripping your hips tightly and guiding you back until your spine hit the mattress. You stared up at him, pupils blown and chest heaving, dazed and flushed, legs parted beneath the weight of his gaze.

He didn’t move for a moment—just hovered over you, smirking down, letting his hands drag slowly down your ribs as your stomach fluttered beneath his palms. But your attention snagged when you noticed movement at the edge of your vision.

James.

He was sitting there at the edge of the bed, still and watching you with a heat in his eyes that made your skin prickle. His gaze didn’t waver, making your breath catch in your throat, back arching instinctively under Remus' hands.

Remus turned his head just slightly, catching James’ expression—and the smirk that curved his lips deepened. Dipping back down, mouth brushing yours with a teasing slowness before murmuring low against your lips, “Jamie has something to ask you, pet.”

Before you could even process the words, James was shifting forward, one knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned in close to your ear—his curls brushing your cheek, voice low and velvet-smooth as he said,

“Can I taste you, sweetheart?”

The world narrowed to the rasp of his voice, the heat of their bodies, and the deafening thrum of your heartbeat in your ears. Remus had already slipped away from you, and you hadn’t even had time to mourn the loss before James was pressed against you.

Lips easily finding the curve of your jaw, kissing and nipping a trail to your collarbone—palms of his hands hot against your skin. Wasting no time to bare the skin of your stomach, touch incessant and insatiable.

Even as you stuttered out, mind foggy and breathless, the end of your sentence loosing itself in the thickness of the air. “…You w-wanna…” hips twitching up into him as his lifted the hem of your top up and over your head.

Connecting your lips again deeper, hungrier, his molding into yours in perfect rhythm.

Pulling away for just to pepper marks down your neck, kisses wet and firm to your skin, punctuating his words, “Mmhm, wanna taste you…make you feel good,”

You couldn’t focus on his words even if you tried, each touch more dizzying than the last, heat curling unforgivingly in the pits of your stomach, gasping out his name when his hand slid between your thighs—cupping your core over your shorts.

Fingers tangled into the short tufts at the nape of his neck and he continued his assault on your skin, relishing in the small gasps your let out as he nibbled at a spot that he’d already marked. Grinning into your skin as you bucked helplessly into his palm, hips unconsciously search for friction.

Whining out, “J-jamie,” when he pressed his hand firmer against you—squirming beneath him, as he hummed lowly. Words making your ears burn tenfold, as he pressed his lips into the curved of your breast, already working his way down to your core, “want you to cum in my mouth, love,”

Legs were already slung over his shoulder before you could really compute his vulgar sentences, gasping when his hands carrassed and pawed at the flesh of your thighs, mind spinning, pulse thumping you didn’t notice Sirius planting himself beside you—

“Jamie’s really good with his mouth. Gna let him take care of you?”

You were already nodding mindlessly when James pressed a kiss over your clothed core, and your entire body shuddered. Hands taking purchase on the sheets beside you, gasping as heat spread invasively under the surface of your skin.

James’ fingers were hooked under the waist band of your bottoms, using his body to raise your hips and peel them off your in a clean, swift swipe—leaving you bare and breathless. Heat coiling in your stomach at the sight of him between your legs, indulging himself with each kiss he planted onto your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your dripping core.

Goosebumps raising over your thighs when the rough pads of his fingers dragged over the flesh, spreading your legs further apart. James’ lips split into a far too pleased smirk at the sight of your folds, glistening and slick, his breath fanning over you when he spoke,

“ooo, all wet from making Rem feel good, huh?”

All you could do was squirm under his hold, one leg still hooked over his shoulder—his other hand trailing up your slit, spreading you as he nibbled lightly at your inner thigh, words muffled by the thin flesh, “Sooo pretty, love,”

Choking out a gasp when he pressed a soft kiss to the swole bundle of nerves, thighs twitching by his head. He looked up at you, drinking in each small micro reaction with a smug smirk—watching as your eyes screwed shut when he laid his tongue flat against your core.

Fingers teasing along the edge of your folds, hooking his other hand around your thigh when you inched away from him. In a single fluid movement, he pushes passes the tight ring of muscles and into your core, humming against your clit when a loud whimper sounded above him.

It was all so intense so suddenly, warm between your legs and curving his digits roughly into your plush walls. Forcing out babbled cries from your lips, “Ngh—Jamie, oh god—James!” Hand resigning its hold on the sheets in exchange for a loose purchase on his hair.

Your head lolled back into the pillows, brows arched high on your forehead as your jaw slacked when he curled his fingers up up up, searching for the familiar spot that had you bucking into him.

White-hot jolts of pleasure running from the base of your spine where James was indulging himself. Moaning into your core as he shuffled forward, helplessly grinding against the sheets beneath him—burying his face further into you.

The coil in your stomach was threatening to snap under the pressure that James was steadily building. Bullying thrusts into you as he took your clit between his flushed lips—tears stinging in your eyes as you tried to buck away from the harsh sucking of his lips.

Crying out in a pitched hoarse voice, incoherent babbles littered with his name, releasing your grip on his curls to push him away before you accidentally pulled out hairs.

James cracked his eyes open, and caught your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you closer to him—locked in with no escape. His hips becoming more frantic in their ruts against the mattress, chasing his high as he pushes you closer to yours.

Muffled between the obscene laps of his lips at your core, words littered with groans that sent shivers down your spine, “mmm, cum f’me, love…wanna—feel,” filing your ears as your back formed an arch.

His hips were already stuttering when you gasped about a choked sob, squeezing his hand to ground yourself as your high washed over you in cruel unforgiving waves. Each stronger than the last as James continued to work you through it—walls clenching around his fingers as stars clouded your eyes.

Shaking and trembling against him, his name spilling from your lips like it was the only prayer you knew.

When he detached, lips flushed and glistening, pupils blown and a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. You’d just barely blinked back your vision, whimpering when he pulled his digits away—thighs trying to squeeze shut at the sensation.

You were still breathless, chest heaving and gaze unfocused when your head rolled—catching sight of Sirius. Name immediately slipping past your lips in a hushed whisper.

And he looked at you with such unfair warmth, cheeks just as flushed as yours—painfully hard and tenting in his bottoms. Automatically cooing out small praises as the aftershocks of your high subsided, but you still kept whispering his name—over and over until he inched closer.

Coaxed by your hand reaching out, all but clawing at his forearm. And when he was just close enough that you didn’t have to strain your hoarse voice, he heard it.

Low and breathy and sweet in his ears, “Want you.” And it had his breath catching in his throat, eyes travelling over your bare figure as you turned, leaning into him. Sirius just pressed a kiss to your forehead, almost brushing off your words as delirium.

But you almost whined when his hand stroked the stray hairs away from forehead, words soft and gentle. “rest, love.” And then Sirius heard it again, as firm as your voice could handle—looking at him through your lashes—flush in your cheeks just barely settling.

“Want more, Siri…want you,” sucking in a sharp inhale—finding air to support your voice, “Wanna go all the way.”

Staring at him with a glint in your eyes that made his head spin—his pulse suddenly much louder beneath his spin. “Y’know you don’t have to, love. There’s plenty of time later—“

Craning your neck up, your pressed a soft kiss to his lips, cutting him off. Before just as quickly as you came in, pulling away—words barely above a whisper. “You don’t want to?”

His stomach dropped, instantly shaking his head, “It’s not that. I want to—believe me, I do. Just don’t wanna pressure you, sweetheart,”

You were still staring up at him, giving him that look—that soft pleading look that said don’t make me say it again, heat curling beneath your cheeks as he leaned in.

His hands were on your waist as he kissed you—trying to take his time, be slow and gentle but you pushed back into him with a vigour that had his resolve fraying instantly.

The kiss deepened, and you felt Sirius melt into you—hands flexing against your waist as if grounding himself. His breath shuddered into your mouth as your hands roamed upward, threading through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him impossibly closer.

“Fuck—” he whispered against your lips, voice low, like a confession. “You’ll be the death of me.”

You only hummed in response, arching slightly beneath his weight, and Sirius groaned—deep and ragged—as your hips brushed his.

That sound went straight to your head—heat coiling in your stomach as you rolled your hips again, deliberately, and his lips parted against yours in a gasp before he dragged his mouth down—jaw, throat, collarbone—leaving a trail of reverent kisses that made your skin burn.

His voice rasped against the curve of your neck, “You’re sure, love?”

Fingers cupped his face, guiding him back up so you could look him in the eye. Your expression was soft but certain, gaze unwavering.

“I’m sure, Sirius.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, almost something sacred in the way his lips moved over yours. Like he was memorising the shape of your mouth—like he was thanking you with every breath—clothes peeling off in a flurry of movement. Then you felt his hand slide lower, gripping your thigh, guiding you to wrap around his waist as he shifted to settle between your legs—eyes never leaving yours.

“You tell me to stop,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours, “and I stop. Understand?”

You nodded, a small sound escaping your throat—something between a yes and a please—and Sirius swore under his breath, kissing you again, deeper, like he couldn't help himself. Gripping onto his shoulders with a desperate hand, trying to pull him in closer, flush against you, as if to fall into him—become one.

It was only when you felt him, hot and firm against your folds that a small gasp slipped past your lips—his eyes were still on you, searching for any hesitation, signs of protest—but he couldn’t find any. Sirius was only met with your flushed cheeked and bleary expression, breathless and soft beneath him.

He found himself chasing your lips, muttering against them, “Gods, you’re so pretty,” As his length rested over and twitched against your core—he could hear the way your breath hitched with each slow and tentative rock he pushed against your folds. Tempting, teasing—and it forced whines and gasps from your lips at the friction.

One heated palm trailed down the side of your body, ghostly far too gentle touches—still swallowing each small mewl that built in your throat—before you felt his hand hitch up your thigh, leaning in closer—making room for himself. Your hands found purchase on the long curls that hung by base of his scalp—carding and tugging when you felt him press into you. Body stiffening as your brows pinched.

A sharp gasp of his name spilt from your lips at the stretch, and he froze—lips parted, eyes squeezed shut before he cracked them open, fingertips tracing nonsense patterns into the skin of your waist. Concern swimming behind his eyes when he spoke, “D’you wanna stop?”

Hips shifting unconsciously as you shook your head—and you both hissed at the friction, chests rising and falling in shaky uneven breaths as he slowly pushed further into you—walls clinging to him, plush and soaked—and it had both your heads spinning.

Thighs quivering beside his hips as your jaw slacked, “O-oh-” Moans and mewls tumbling out of your mouth before you even realised, the stretch had your spine arching as you all but drooled around his length. Sirius was still trying to be patient, placing small kisses along the curve of your neck, your jaw, the thin sensitive skin behind your ear—whispering lightly into your skin.

It was when you sucked him in deeper after the first thrust—hips bucking up in a filthy cadance that had your vision blurrying—that Sirius almost cracked. Hands flying to your hips to keep you still, to keep his sanity, groaning out as he reeled back slightly, “f-fuuck, sweetheart—haah, hold on,”

Squeezing his eyes shut, evoking the patience of a saint to keep each drag of his hips slow and steady—but slow wasn’t going to cut it. Not when the room was spinning, not when all you could think about was Sirius Sirius Sirius, every sense overwhelmed by him, not when you could feel each vein dragging sinfully against your walls.

Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears—pitched, shaky, airy—with each whimpering plea that spilled out, “Hnngh—please, Siri. Ah! s-s’good,” If the chanting of your hips up up up didn’t break him, the sweet ring of your voice in his ears surely did. His head fell into the dip of your neck, cursing under his breath, grip on your hips tightening as he dragged his hips back before pushing all the way in with one languid thrust.

Each nerve was set alight, spine arching into him with a deep curve as a lewd cry tore its way out of you. His eyes threatened to roll back in his head at the way your walls spasmed around him with each weight rut—but he’d forced them open, stuck on you—memorising the way you looked beneath him, overcome with pleasure.

Grasping and clawing at every part of him, and he was no better—pads of his fingers pressing bruisingly into your flesh, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth. Nothing slow and tentative anymore, every shift, and moan, and thrust was feverish—chasing and pushing you further to the edge.

“f-fuck you feel so good—mmfph! taking it so well, love. so good f’me,”

And then, Sirius was angling his hips upwards—urgently, desperately—the hot coil in the pits of your stomach suddenly impossibly tighter as his tip barrelled into that spot, your vision darkened at the edges and tears sprung at the corners of your hazy eyes—thighs trembling from the striking jolts of pleasure that ran through you. Radiating from the base of your spine out.

You were all but melting into the sheets beneath you—staring up at Sirius with a bleary dazed expression, incoherent mewls mixing with his name like a mantra.

Walls clinging to him impossibly tighter with each ram—and he wasn’t going to last much longer, eyes squeezing shut as he nipped and kissed at the skin of your jaw.

Words muffled as he pressed his lips against yours. Hand resigning its bruising grip on your hips to slip between you, thumb rubbing small circles into the over sensitive bundle of nerves—mumbling into your skin when your jaw hung, “c’mon love, need you to let go—f-fuck, please,”

All the muscles in your body became taut, brows pinching impossibly higher on your forehead as your high crashed over you—trembling and shivering as he worked you through it, gasping out as your mind practically shattered.

Vision black, ears ringing before becoming completely boneless.

He was barely holding on when your clamped down onto him, forcing himself out of your core and spilling onto your stomach with an salacious moan, shuddering out breathy whispers of your name. Collapsing onto you lightly, brushing hairs out of your face—small delicate pecks pressing into your jaw.

One hand skimming over the side of your waist, soft and gentle whispers fading away—body resigning itself to sleep.

a/n:this is 7 words away from being 11k....insane

924 notes · View notes

caramelkoo · 9 months ago

Text

honeysuckle

boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut

summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.

warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.

a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo

"Oh yeah baby, just like that"

"You fuck me so good"

'Take my cock like a good slut you are"

Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.

Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.

Step 1 : take an everything shower

Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background

Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.

Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.

Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.

You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.

Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.

Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.

Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.

If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?

After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.

As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".

Spoilsport, your ass.

Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.

The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.

When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.

You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"

When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.

"What's with the song, sweetheart?"

"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"

After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.

You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"

"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.

"What was that?"

"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.

"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.

Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"

Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.

"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.

Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"

Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.

"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"

Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.

Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.

Him.

Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.

When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?

With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.

Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?

"So, how was the business trip?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"

You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.

"Jungkook"

"Come here"

"Wh-"

He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'

You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.

Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.

His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.

"How long did you say they were going at it?"

You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"

He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.

"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"

Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?

"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"

The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.

"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.

She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.

His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.

"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"

The sound that leaves her is filled with need.

"Jungkook, baby please."

He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.

Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.

His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.

Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.

"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.

His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.

Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"

Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.

She screams.

"That's my girl"

He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.

"You want it faster, sweetheart?"

"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"

Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.

"Oh my fucking god"

"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"

He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.

She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.

When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.

"Aghh"

It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.

When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"

Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"

"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.

At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.

He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"

He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.

"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.

"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.

Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.

"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.

"I love you"

"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.

Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.

Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.

Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.

He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.

The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.

"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.

Thrust Thrust Thrust

As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.

"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"

Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.

He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.

A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"

"That was…" you bite your lip.

"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.

his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"

"One more?"

"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"

He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.

Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.

"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,

"So warm"

Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.

His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.

So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.

Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"

When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.

He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"

Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"

So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.

Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.

"I fucking love this body of yours"

She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.

Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.

"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"

He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.

He hopes.

2K notes · View notes

natalianovnas · 2 months ago

Text

༄ `. 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 & 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 3

summary : raised in the heart of the countryside, you, Y/N Langford, has always known the rhythm of ranch life—early mornings on horseback, sun-drenched vineyards, and a quiet kind of freedom carved into the land passed down through generations. however, your father's recent colleague is interesting enough.

genre : country!au, countryside life.

warnings : beefy!nat, top!nat, gp!nat, sub!reader, fluff included but mostly smut — let's say this chapter's just showing how nasty the two are.

words count : 4.7k || masterlist

an : i promise im not as freaky as this shot might be 🙈

𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three 𖦹 part four 𖦹 part five 𖦹

HORSES & ROMANCE :

— Every Inch Of Dawn

📍 Langford's Estate,

Clare Valley, Southern Australia

You stirred first.

Body aching in pleasant ways. A dull, stretched soreness that reminded you just how intense the night before had been.

Natasha was still asleep, lying on her stomach, one arm under the pillow and the other loosely draped over your waist. The blanket barely covered her, and the sun gave her shoulders a warm glow. Her back moved in slow, steady breaths, muscles relaxed, hair messily tumbling around her face.

She looked peaceful—something you didn’t think she let herself be often.

You let yourself watch her a little longer than you probably should’ve, committing the sight to memory of her here in your bed, your space.

You could still feel her on you—her mouth, her fingers, the way she had whispered your name like it was something sacred.

As you brushed the hair from her face, her lashes fluttered—lips parting into the hint of a smile.

“You watching me sleep?” She mumbled, voice low and scratchy.

“You snore,” You teased.

She opened one eye. “You’re lying.”

“Little bit.”

Natasha stretched, her body warm and heavy against yours. “Gonna put me to work today?”

“Thought about it,” You said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You owe me for eating the last of the pie yesterday at the fair.”

“You said I could have it.”

“You used that voice.”

She grinned lazily, then rolled on top of you, pinning you to the bed with nothing but her weight and that wicked smirk. “What voice?”

“That voice where I know I’m about to let you do whatever the hell you want.”

Cockily, she rose a brow. “You mean the one that gets me pie and laid?”

You huffed a chuckle with an eye roll. Honestly.

She kissed you quiet — slow and affectionate, not leading anywhere this time. Just there. Warm. Real.

Neither of you moved right away. There was no panic, no rush to explain, no awkward reaching for clothes. Just a long moment suspended in the quiet.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said after a while, her fingers brushing lightly along your hip under the sheet.

“I didn’t either,” You replied. “But I’m glad we did.”

Her brow arched faintly. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your voice soft. “Yeah.”

Natasha leaned in, brushing her lips over your bare shoulder—a small kiss, nothing demanding. Just acknowledgment, making you smile.

She exhaled, a shaky breath, and tucked her face against your neck, like she needed the anchor. You held her without speaking.

After a few minutes, her stomach let out a quiet growl.

You laughed softly, pulling back just enough to see her face. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” She muttered, eyes closing again.

“You stay here,” you said. “I’ll make coffee. And eggs if the hens liked me enough yesterday.”

She cracked a sleepy grin. “You’re kind of perfect, you know.”

You kissed her once more—light and lingering—before slipping out of bed, wrapping yourself in a worn flannel shirt. She watched you go, propping herself on one elbow, and thought of how lucky she was right in that moment.

. . .

You heard her before you saw her—soft steps on the floorboards, followed by that husky voice that always managed to make you feel seen, even when you weren’t looking.

You made it to the kitchen— barefoot, coffee in hand, standing in there with your hair a mess and your flannel slipping off one shoulder.

“Looks like the hens didn't appreciate you today.” She commented.

“I didn’t come for the coffee.” She murmured.

A soft hum, in agreement, came from your lips. “I was thinking toasts would do the drill instead. Help yourself to the coffee.”

Her hand slid to your hip, the other brushing the hair from your shoulder. She bent down, lips grazing your neck, slow and deliberate. “I came for you.”

You didn’t stop her.

Didn’t want to.

The mug was forgotten somewhere on the counter as she kissed you — not rushed this time, not needy. Just full. Thorough. Like she was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, the way you tasted first thing in the morning. Her hands found the hem of your flannel, sliding under it, dragging over bare skin with reverence.

Her picking you up with no warning made you gasp in surprise, then smile right after as she attached her lips back on yours —hands dropped over your sides— then it shifted.

Your smile turned into full giggles as she attacked you with kisses. Your lips, eyes, cheeks, neck, jaw—all while your bodies being glued to the other's.

“You always look like this in the morning?” The Russian asked. “Or is it just for me?”

“Depends. I'd do the honor to say that it's just for you.”

With a low hum while nipping your jaw, she added, “Remind me to never underestimate you again in bed.”

You raised a brow. “You underestimated me?”

She tilted her head, eyes gleaming now. “Just a little.”

You laughed softly, but your fingers stayed at her back, moving in slow strokes. “Do you regret it?” The question slipped out quieter than you meant it to.

Natasha stilled. Her eyes searched yours, serious now.

“No,” She said finally. “Not even close.”

You nodded, exhaling. “Good.”

She rested her forehead on yours, the edge of a smile tugging her lips as she pecked your lips repeatedly. “I liked waking up next to you.”

You smiled back, “I liked falling asleep next to you.”

The redhead's hands glided down to your thighs, fingers grazing over them in a soothing motion.

“You're sitting there, hot and all, and I hate to say that I'd have to leave soon.” She sighed. “Got work to do.”

You nodded. “It's alright. I gotta check on Bramble, anyway. But you're not leaving without eating first.”

Of course, she wasn't. One thing she knew about you, your family and the constant time she'd spent with you — was that breakfast is priority here.

“How’s he, by the way?”

“Spooked by the gate slamming a day ago, but calmed down fast. That’s progress.”

“I’ve seen grown men recover slower.”

(Few days later.)

. . .

It had rained the night before, a steady, rhythmic downpour that soaked the soil and cooled the summer air. By morning, the clouds had scattered, leaving the fields glistening under soft light.

The barn on your property stood tall and weathered, its red paint faded by time and sun, and just beyond it, your horse was stuck in the mud. Again.

You stood ankle-deep in it, boots sinking into the thick mess as you muttered curses under your breath.

The rope tugged sharply in your hands as the mare resisted, stubborn as ever. You were halfway to cursing her ancestors when you heard a whistle — low, slow, and unmistakably amused.

Natasha leaned against your fence like she’d been summoned, sleeves rolled up, tank top sticking to her damp skin. She didn’t say anything right away. Just watched you with that crooked grin, arms folded across her chest, muscles flexing as if she wanted to remind you she was built like sin and salvation all at once.

“You look like you’re auditioning for a country song,” The redhead finally spoke up.

You shot her a glare. “Unless you’re offering to help, Romanoff, shut it.”

With deliberate slowness, she climbed over the fence, boots landing in the mud with a satisfying squelch. She came to your side, took the rope without a word, and gave one firm tug.

The mare moved forward with ease. You blinked.

Natasha tossed a smug glance your way. “What? She's got a thing for redheads.”

You snorted, “So does her owner.”

“Well,” She murmured, “Guess we have something in common.”

You looked away, hiding your smile but she saw it anyway.

By the time the two of you got the mare back in the stable, your jeans were a mess, and your hands were streaked with mud. Natasha wiped her palms on her thighs and gave the horse a soft pat before turning to you.

She helped you finish up without being asked — sweeping out the barn, fixing the bent gate hinge, and repairing a broken step on your porch.

The way she worked, methodical and focused, told you she wasn’t new to hard labor. But she never complained. She just moved beside you like it was natural.

Later, while fixing a loose hinge on the chicken coop, you caught her staring again. Not with heat, but with softness. Like she was trying to hold the moment in her palms.

“What?” You asked, hands on your hips.

She stepped closer, slipping behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.

“You’re dangerous,” She murmured into your ear.

“How’s that?”

“Because I could stay here,” The redhead whispered. “And forget who I was before.”

You turned in her arms, meeting her gaze. “Maybe that’s the point.”

. . .

The storm had passed, but the air hadn’t cooled.

It was thick, charged with something heavier than just humidity. You could feel it in the way Natasha looked at you across the dinner table — quiet, unreadable, but her eyes told a different story.

You were barefoot, wearing her flannel — nothing underneath. You’d slipped it on after your shower, thinking she wouldn’t notice.

She noticed.

“Stand up,” She said, voice low.

“Why?”

Natasha tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Because I said so. Come on.”

You rose slowly, your heart thudding as her chair scraped back against the floor. The second you reached hsr, she hooked her fingers into the hem of the shirt and lifted it just enough to see your bare skin beneath.

“Fuck,” She muttered, more to herself than to you.

You leaned into her with teasing smile. “Something wrong?”

She chuckled, “Yeah. I’m trying really hard to be a decent woman right now.”

In a swift mouvement, she gripped the back of your thighs and pulled you down on her lap, your bodies slamming together like you’d been craving it all day.

You let out a low gasp as you landed right on her hard cock, her hands were everywhere—gripping, guiding, greedy.

“I dreamt about this,” She murmured against your throat. “Woke up hard and aching and mad because I wasn’t inside you.”

Her hand was already sliding beneath the shirt, finding your heated core. “You’re already wet, baby. You waited for me.”

Her fingers slipped inside your cunt with maddening ease, her palm pressing just right. Your body arched into hers as she whispered filth into your ear, every word soaked in desire and dominance.

“You like being ruined in your own kitchen?” She rasped, her fingers moving relentlessly inside of you. “Want me to fuck you on this counter with your legs wide open like you’re mine?”

“Please,” You gasped, barely holding on.

That did it.

She lifted you with ease, set you on the counter, and yanked the shirt wide open — not caring about buttons, not caring about anything except seeing you sprawled, flushed, trembling for her.

She didn’t waste time and dropped to her knees again, tongue dragging a slow, sinful line up your thigh before she reached your dripping heat, devouring you like she’d been starving.

You broke apart in seconds, hips jerking, hands tangled in her hair, voice lost to the walls and fields and the wide-open night outside.

And even after she stood, breathless and wild-eyed, she didn’t stop. She kissed you deep —claiming you— and lifted you off the counter.

“We’re not done,” She growled, carrying you down the hallway like you weighed nothing. “Not even close.”

Moments later sometime after midnight, the room smelled like sweat and skin and summer rain still lingering on the breeze.

Your legs were tangled with Natasha’s, her hand resting low on your stomach, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against your bare skin. The sheets were kicked halfway down the bed. Her body was still half on top of you, heavy and warm — grounding.

You could feel the rise and fall of her chest. Steady. Safe.

“I didn’t mean for it to go like that,” She mumbled, lips brushing your temple.

You turned your head, eyes still hazy. “You didn’t like it?”

The redhead huffed a laugh. “I loved it. But I meant… I wasn’t planning on losing my mind the second I saw you in my shirt.”

You smiled. “Then it’s my fault.”

She shifted onto her side, brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek. “It’s your fault I’ve been walking around all week trying to be respectful, meanwhile thinking about bending you over every fence on this damn property.”

Oh.

You laughed softly while she leaned in again, this time slower, her kiss gentle. Not hungry. Not desperate. Just soft.

“I like how quiet it is here,” She whispered. “But I like you more.”

You tucked your face into her neck, smiling against her skin. “You’re gonna make me fall for you.”

Natasha held you tighter. “Too late. Already fallen.”

. . .

The day hadn't even ended and Natasha's mind was running wild with thoughts of you.

It started with the damn shorts.

You’d worn them on purpose — cut-off denim that barely passed for legal and a tied-up flannel that left very little to the imagination.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you bent over in front of the fence (said fence she'd mentioned just last night), pretending to check the wire right across from where Nat worked, arching your back just enough.

The sun was hot. The sky was cloudless. And you could feel Natasha’s gaze sear into you from halfway across the field.

You'd thought it was a great idea to toy with her today, not even bothering to stop when she was in the presence of your dad.

You were always passing around, teasing, all acting innocent.

You didn’t have to look to know she was staring. You felt it like pressure on your skin.

“You’re really testing me, sweetheart,” Her voice came from behind — low, strained, full of warning, making you smirk.

As you straightened, slow, cocky, to face her, you feigned pure innocence. “I’m just working.”

Natasha didn’t buy it for a second.

The second you turned around, she was there, grabbing your hips, walking you backward until your back hit the wood of the fence with a dull thud. Her breath was hot, heavy, and furious against your cheek.

“You think I didn’t notice?” she growled. “Those shorts, that shirt. Bending over like that. What are you trying to do to me?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Wrong move.

Her hand shot to your throat — not squeezing, just holding. Commanding. The other slipped under the hem of your shorts, fingers pressing into the soft, warm skin of your ass.

“Nat—”

She silenced you with a kiss that left no room for teasing — open-mouthed, tongue, teeth, all hunger and pent-up frustration. She kissed like she was claiming territory, biting at your bottom lip as her fingers pushed past the denim, past your underwear, past your composure.

“You get off on this?” She rasped, voice rough in your ear as you panted, a pleased grin on your lips. “Getting me worked up in the open, where anyone could see?”

“You mentioned taking me over the fence some days ago.” You replied, already breathless, as she fiddled with the zipper of her pants. “I'm just helping your wish to come true.”

She tugged your shorts down just enough, lifting one of your legs to hook around her hip. The fence creaked behind you, the wood rough at your back. But you barely noticed — not with the way she slid her dick inside you in one motion, slow and thick, one hand braced beside your head and the other gripping your thigh tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck,” Natasha groaned, thrusting deep. “So wet. Were you waiting for this?”

You clawed at her shoulders, gasping as each roll of her hips sent heat spiraling through your body.

“For what do you think earlier's show was ?”

She was relentless — thrusting hard enough to shake the boards, grounding you with her strength, her body, her voice.

“You tease me like that again,” She hissed as she pounded hard into you , “and I’ll take you right here every time.”

Her pace quickened, the slap of skin against skin muffled only by your moans and the wind. It was messy. Hot. So damn risky.

And you were addicted.

She pulled out of you and before you could even have time to complain, you were turned around, bent over and her cock was back inside of you.

If it weren't for her hands holding your hips tightly, you would've been face down the grass by now due to your knees that'd almost gave up.

“Fuck, yes, j-just like that..”

You moaned, your hands gripping the border of the fence to anchor yourself. Natasha took you, just like you wanted.

You came with a sob, body trembling as she drove you through it, holding you tight, whispering dirty promises into your ear even as she lost herself in you.

When she finally stilled, still inside you, breathing hard against your neck.

“Think the whole damn field heard us,” She muttered, grinning as she kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the underside of your jaw.

“Serves you right,” You whispered back, teasing. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

Her teeth sank lightly into your shoulder, and you yelped.

She laughed. A real, bright, completely unguarded laugh.

But then — a voice cut through the air like a crack of thunder.

“Y/N! You out there, darlin’?”

It was your father.

Natasha’s body locked against yours like stone, her eyes wide. You slapped a hand over your mouth, biting back a curse.

“In the back pasture, fixing the gate!” you shouted, trying to sound casual, like you hadn’t just been railed against a wooden fence by your dad's dangerously hot co-worker.

The Russian, still very much inside you moments ago, looked like she was reconsidering every life decision that had brought her to this exact moment.

Boots crunched in the distance — your father’s. Getting closer.

You shoved at Natasha’s chest. “Go. Go!”

She practically dove into the nearest row of tall grass, tucking herself out of sight behind the shed. You yanked your shorts up in record time, yelping as the zipper caught your sensitive skin.

Your father appeared just over the ridge. “You okay?”

You forced a smile, “Yeah! Gate’s a little stubborn.”

He eyed you. “Your face’s all red.”

“Hot out,” You blurted.

He narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. “Well, come on back soon. We’re firing up the grill.”

“Be right there.”

He turned and walked away with a nod.

You waited until his footsteps were gone before the tall grass rustled — Natasha emerging like a gorgeous fox. Her shirt was unbuttoned, face smug.

“That was close,” She murmured.

You glared at her. “I hate you.”

She smirked, pulling you back into her arms. “No, you don’t.”

She kissed you again — sweet, lazy, full of trouble.

And you let her, even as you muttered, “You owe me so bad.”

“Good,” Nat whispered against your lips. “’Cause I was planning on working up an appetite before dinner anyway.”

. . .

The sun was dipping low, casting the ranch in gold as smoke curled lazily up from the grill. Your dad was manning it like it was a battlefield, spatula in hand, cowboy hat slightly askew.

Your grandmother had set out the side dishes on the porch table, chatting with your aunt while your younger cousins chased each other barefoot across the grass.

And then there was Natasha — washed, changed, and acting like she hadn’t just had you gasping against a fence an hour ago. Her hair was damp from a quick shower, slicked back, revealing cheekbones sharp enough to cut. She wore worn jeans and a black tank top that clung just right, and when she smiled politely at your mom, you could almost believe she was innocent.

Almost.

You were standing beside the lemonade table when she sidled up next to you. Her hand brushed yours — deliberately, slow — and she didn’t look at you when she said, “Still sore?”

You choked on your drink.

Natasha chuckled under her breath and took a sip of her sweet tea like she hadn’t just whispered sin. Your aunt, Diane, turned toward the sound and smiled. “Natasha, how do you like ranch life so far?”

Nat didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve never been more… satisfied.”

Your face burned.

Your dad called everyone over for burgers, and Natasha stepped in like she’d always belonged, passing plates, laughing at your uncle Pete’s jokes, helping your little cousin, Ella, tie her shoelaces. But every time she looked at you— that spark in her eye, the ghost of a smirk— it was a silent, unspoken promise : I’m not done with you yet.

Later, after dishes were cleared and the sky turned indigo, she tugged you by the hand toward the barn with a whispered, “Come on.”

The barn was quiet, cloaked in shadows and the warm hush of summer night.

The soft glow of old fairy lights strung above the rafters cast golden patterns over everything — the hay bales, the tools, the dust motes swirling in still air.

You didn’t even get a word out before Natasha pushed you gently against the barn door and kissed you like she hadn’t had her fill — like the entire day had just been foreplay for this.

Her hands were rough with callouses now, weeks on the ranch had seen to that— and they gripped your sides.

Her mouth moved from yours to your neck, then down, lips dragging across your collarbone with intent.

“Slow down, I'm not going anywhere, you know?” You chuckled.

“Thought about this all through dinner,” She murmured, pulling your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion. “You, in that tight little tank top. Acting like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.”

“And you, pretending to be sweet in front of my family. You’re evil.”

She grinned against your stomach. “You liked it.”

She kissed you then — not gentle, but needy. Desperate. All tongue and teeth and hands that couldn’t stay still. Your shirt was yanked up and over your head, tossed somewhere into the shadows, and her mouth was on your collarbone, your chest, biting just enough to make you shiver.

You moaned as her hand slid past the waistband of your underwear, finding heat and slick with a confident ease that made your knees weak.

“F-fuck…”

“I’ve got you,” she said low, her voice pure gravel, pure promise.

She turned you then, guiding you toward the nearest hay bale, and before you could fully process it, you were bent over it, fingers gripping the edge. Her body was flush against yours, and her other hand was already working open her belt, her breath hot against your neck.

“You sure you can stay quiet, sweetheart?” she whispered.

You nodded, barely.

Then she slid her dick into you — slow, sure, deep.

You bit your lip so hard it almost bled, a sharp cry caught in your throat. Her hands gripped your hips, anchoring you to her, guiding the rhythm. She rocked into you, the angle perfect, dragging pleasure through you in waves.

The sounds were obscene — wet, gasping, skin on skin — muffled only slightly by the barn’s thick walls.

She leaned over you, lips brushing your ear. “Still wanna tease me tomorrow? Wear those little shorts again?”

You whimpered, trembling under her.

She grinned, nipping your earlobe. “Didn’t think so.”

Her pace didn’t falter. She thrust deeper, rougher, but gentle, until you were bracing hard against the hay, your body a mess of sensation, clenching around her.

When you came after she did, it hit fast — a quake that left you breathless and shaking. She held you through it, still moving, coaxing every last wave out of you until you collapsed forward with a groan.

Natasha kissed your shoulder, then your neck, slowing down only after she’d chased her own high with a soft, broken growl against your skin.

You both stayed there for a moment — pressed together, panting, tangled up in sweat and heat and everything unsaid.

“Feel better?” You asked with a dazed smile.

. . .

She chuckled, pulling you close, her voice a velvet rasp. “You’ve got no idea.”

You should’ve moved. You knew you should’ve moved — back to the house, to a bed, to the rest of the world waiting outside that old barn. But Natasha’s hand was drawing lazy circles on your lower back, her bare thigh tangled between yours, and you didn’t want to go anywhere.

Her voice broke the quiet, low and satisfied. “How do you always manage to look this good, even after i’ve wrecked you?”

You smirked, eyes fluttering shut as you nuzzled into her collarbone. “Modest this morning, aren’t we?”

She kissed your temple, lips grazing tenderly across your hairline. “I’m not wrong.”

“No,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along the edge of her ribs, “but if you keep talking like that, I’m never getting off this haystack.”

“That’s the plan.”

Natasha shifted, rolling you onto your back again with that effortless strength of hers. She leaned over you, her body warm and solid, her eyes dark but soft. She looked at you like she’d been starving and had finally been fed — but still wanted another bite.

"Slept nice?"

“I don’t think I've ever really slept,” You murmured, your voice low, teasing. “Someone kept me busy.”

Natasha chuckled, low and smug, her hand sliding over your waist, fingertips brushing a bruise she’d left near your hip. “You kept moaning my name like it was the only word you knew. You think I could sleep through that?”

You blushed, but you didn’t pull away—eyes tracing the mess of red hair, the way the morning sun lit her skin in amber. She looked devastatingly good like this — rumpled, content, still hungry in her gaze.

“You’re not sore?” You asked, quirking a brow.

The Russian smirked, “Baby, I can handle a few rounds in the hay.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, then winced slightly as you moved. “God, we really didn’t stop.”

“Nope.” She stretched a little, groaning, then leaned down and kissed the inside of your thigh. “Not my fault you’re irresistible in denim shorts and mouthy comebacks.”

You tangled your fingers in her hair, tugging her closer. “We should probably go inside before someone finds us out here.”

“I want to see you again,” she said, voice rougher now, “feel you again. Slow this time. We’ve got time now, don’t we?”

Your breath hitched. “I thought you wanted peace and quiet on this farm.”

Her lips ghosted over your throat as she leaned back up. “I’ve got peace. You’re the quiet I like.”

Your heart did something traitorous then — flipped, full, needy. But there wasn’t time to process it, because her mouth was on your chest again, kissing every bruise she left the night before like a silent apology — or maybe a vow.

And then she sank down your body, slow and reverent. No teasing this time. No need. Just the heat of her breath against your thigh, her hands holding you like you were something sacred.

You arched as her tongue found you, already pulsing and tender, but eager for her again. Her name spilled from your mouth like prayer. She licked you slow, deep, thorough — drawing it out, savoring it, like she was determined to memorize every sound you made under her.

“I could die happy right here,” She whispered into your neck.

You came undone again, this time with a whimper and your fingers tugging tight in her hair. And even as you trembled, even as your vision blurred, she didn’t stop — didn’t let go — only kissed her way back up your body, wrapping herself around you again.

“Not yet,” You murmured, dazed. “I’m not done with you.”

She laughed then, low and rough and so turned on. “Then don’t be, baby.”

And the barn stayed quiet — except for the sounds only the two of you made, as the sun climbed higher, and morning became something entirely your own.

➪ next part.

#𓂃 ๋ ࣭ 𔘓 natalianovnas #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha x reader #natasha smut

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ivyues · 2 months ago

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In their World ⋅ Han Jisung

It was silly, the way your heart always aches ever so slightly whenever you see their bond. (Han x reader | platonic!Minsung)

Curled up on the couch in Han’s shared dorm with Minho, you lazily scrolled through your phone while the two boys sat on the floor, huddled over a Nintendo Switch and a rapidly diminishing bowl of tteokbokki.

"Minho-hyung, you keep hitting me!" Han whined, slapping his shoulder.

Minho just smirked, unfazed. "You’re just mad 'cause I beat you four times in a row."

"You cheated. Admit it."

"I’m just better," Minho replied smugly, popping a rice cake into his mouth.

Han turned dramatically to you. "Babe, tell him he cheated."

You looked up, offered a soft smile. "If he did, it’s only because you let him."

Han gasped dramatically at you.

They fall into another banter loop. Sipping your tea, you watch them like you’re sitting outside a window looking in. It’s not that they make you feel unwelcome. Minho has been warming up to you in his own way – he lets you have the last slice of pizza now, even if it was just out of courtesy because you always denied.

Still, sometimes – especially when Han leaned his head back and laughed at something Minho said, or when they glanced at each other, both smirking in that language only the two of them spoke – you felt like a stranger in their little world.

It wasn’t like you didn’t love their bond. You did. You even admired it.

You just… envied it, in a quiet, internal kind of way.

But you knew one thing with absolute certainty: You would never, ever do the slightest thing to come between them. Because you cared about Han too much and you knew exactly how much Minho meant to him.

They were just so familiar. The kind of familiar that could only come from years of sharing microphones, dorm rooms, pre-show jitters, and late-night tears over ramen. And you? You were new.

You knew you shouldn't feel this way. Han has never made you feel anything but wanted.

But there’s a version of him – this relaxed, radiant, half-laughing version – that only seems to shine when Minho’s around. It’s not romantic. You know that. But it's still something. Something you’ll never be able to recreate.

“You good?” Han’s voice is soft, cutting through your thoughts.

You blink, realize he’s looking at you. His brows knit in that tiny crease he gets when he’s concerned. You smile too quickly.

“Yeah. Just sleepy.”

Minho groans exaggeratedly. “Ugh, I swear, if you two start kissing, I’m leaving.”

Han sticks his tongue out like a child. “You’re just mad no one wants to kiss you.”

Minho flips him off, but he’s smirking. The ease between them is magnetic. Unshakeable.

You’re not mad. Not jealous, not really. Just... aching in a quiet corner of your heart. A corner you never speak from, because if you did, they’d probably laugh. Call you dramatic. Remind you that it’s not like that, and you know it. And they'd be right, because it sounded stupid out loud.

You just want Han to be your person. And he is, in many ways. But you know he’ll always be more to Minho in a way you can't touch.

And you’ll have to learn to accept that.

-----

Later, when the game was over and Minho retreated to his room, Han flopped beside you on the couch, arm snaking around your shoulder.

“You’re quiet,” he said, gently nudging your cheek with his nose.

You hesitated. “Just tired.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “Is it me? Or Minho?”

Your stomach dropped. “What? No. Why would you say that?”

“'Cause you get that look. Like you’re in your own little cloud of sad. And Minho’s not even mean today.”

You huffed a soft, helpless laugh, the sound barely more than a breath against his skin.

“Babyy, c'mon talk to mee.”

You paused, not sure how to explain something that felt so small and silly. But he waited, thumb rubbing slow circles into your arm.

“I know it’s dumb,” you finally started. “But sometimes I feel like… I don’t fit. You and Minho are just so close. I know you’re not—like, obviously you’re not into each other. But when I’m around, it kinda feels like I’m intruding.”

Han blinked, his expression unreadable for a second. Then he let out a laugh.

“Babe. We’ve been glued to each other’s butts for years. He’s my emotional support weirdo. Of course we’re close.” He reached over to tap your forehead. “But he’s not the one I get excited to see walk through the door. That’s you.”

Your throat tightened, emotions catching you off guard. But before you could respond, he grinned and added, “Also, your ramen’s way better than his.”

You laughed, watery and real. “Oh, I’m absolutely telling him you said that.”

Han swallowed, playfully panicked. “Do you want me dead?”

You shook your head, grinning. “He deserves to be humbled every once in a while.”

Han leaned back into the couch, tugging you with him until you were half-draped across his chest. “You’re not wrong. Last week he said his presence alone improves the flavor of food. Like he’s some sort of seasoning.”

You grimaced. “Minho-flavored sauce. Disgusting.”

“Right? I’ve been traumatized ever since.”

The laughter lingered between you, softening everything, until the room felt quieter in a good way. Not empty – just… settled. Like the space between you had finally folded closed.

“You know, I meant it,” he said, quieter now. His fingers trailed lightly down your arm before he laced them with yours. “It’s not dumb, by the way. What you said.”

You shifted just slightly, enough to look at him without breaking the warmth of his hold.

Han met your gaze, his eyes softer than before, like. “I get it,” he repeated. “You’re not wrong to feel the way you do. Minho and I have this… weird bond. Like, trauma-bonded via dance practice and mutual caffeine addiction.”

You huffed a laugh, but your eyes were still wet. “But just because that’s old doesn’t mean it’s more important. You and me? We’re building something new. That matters too.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating softly against your cheek. “But seriously,” he said, “I never want you to feel like you're outside. You’re not. You’re my baby. That means you get to be part of my stupid little world. Even if it’s messy and Minho-shaped sometimes.”

You looked at the edge od the couch where your fingers traced over the material. “Just��” you started, your voice quieter than before, “just tell me if I mess with the dynamic. Like—if I ever sit in too bad. I don’t want to be the one who throws things off.”

His brows furrowed, and without hesitation, he cupped your face gently, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “Hey,” he said softly, “you never throw things off. You’re not a third wheel, you’re not some background noise we tolerate. You are part of this.”

He paused.

“Yeah, we have our thing. But you? You’re not stepping into our space. You’re expanding it.” He smiled, the kind that started slow and bloomed across his whole face. “If anything, it’s better when you’re here.”

Your throat tightened, emotions catching you off guard.

But before you could say anything, Han added with a mock-dramatic sigh, “Who knows, maybe you’ll both ditch me in the end. Run off together and leave me behind.”

You chuckled, nudging him with your knee. “C'mon, don't be dramatic.”

He grinned – but there was something a little too earnest about the way he pulled you closer after.

His arm stayed snug around you, and this time, when you shifted against him, he didn’t let go as quickly as usual. He clung a little tighter, thumb brushing back and forth across the curve of your shoulder.

“And if you ever feel like you’re sitting in ‘too bad,’ you can tell me. The only thing you’re interrupting is Minho’s ego. Which, frankly, is a public service.”

“I’m hearing you, Han Jisung!” His voice was muffled, as if he’d just stepped into the bathroom, but it carried the same deadly calm it always did when threatening to toss someone into the air fryer.

You burst into laughter, and Han grinned, clearly satisfied with himself. “See? Dynamic improved.”

masterlist

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

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busyw0man · 2 months ago

Text

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - send ‘reverse’ for the sender and receiver to swap. adjust wording as needed!

[ hoodie ] sender pulls their oversized hoodie over receiver’s head and tugs the hood gently into place

[ cheek kiss ] sender leans in to kiss receiver’s cheek mid-laughter, just because they can

[ hand hold ] sender absentmindedly reaches for receiver’s hand while they’re walking, thumb brushing softly

[ forehead rest ] sender leans their forehead gently against receiver’s, eyes closed

[ nap pile ] sender and receiver accidentally fall asleep tangled together on the couch, limbs everywhere

[ spooning ] sender wraps around receiver protectively and mumbles half-asleep affirmations into their shoulder

[ little things ] sender braids a strand of receiver’s hair, ties their shoelaces, or tucks a blanket around them (feel free to specify the action to fit the dynamic)

[ slow sway ] music’s barely playing, but sender still pulls receiver close for a quiet, living-room dance

[ sleepy mumble ] receiver starts dozing off, and sender whispers soft things they won’t remember in the morning

[ clingy ] sender wraps their arms around receiver from behind and refuses to let go

[ kiss sandwich ] sender kisses receiver’s cheeks one after the other

[ chest pillow ] sender lays with their head on receiver’s chest, content just listening to their heartbeat

[ under blanket ] sender pulls the blanket higher and tucks receiver closer with a sleepy smile

[ you first ] sender insists receiver picks the movie or gets the last bite of dessert (feel free to specify to fit the dynamic)

[ phone photo ] sender snaps a candid photo of receiver mid-laughter and saves it like it’s a treasure

[ temple kiss ] sender presses a soft kiss to receiver’s temple as they pass by, as natural as breathing

[ hands in hair ] receiver plays with sender’s hair while they lay in their lap and hum softly

[ jacket drape ] sender silently puts their coat around receiver’s shoulders without saying a word

[ sleepy cling ] sender wakes up to find receiver curled into them, clinging like they’ll float away

[ morning light ] early sun streams in as sender watches receiver sleep, brushing hair from their face

[ surprise note ] sender tucks a little love note into receiver’s bag or book to find later

[ rain watch ] sender and receiver sit inside, curled up with warm drinks, watching the rain in quiet contentment

[ finger trace ] sender traces little shapes on receiver’s skin absentmindedly as they lay together

[ shared scarf ] sender and receiver share the same scarf and walk pressed together

[ tucked in ] sender gently tucks receiver into bed, kisses their forehead, and whispers goodnight

𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

❝ you’re my favorite place to be. ❞

❝ don’t go. just a little longer, okay? ❞

❝ you smile like that and i forget what i was saying. ❞

❝ it’s you. it’s always been you. ❞

❝ i like waking up next to you. ❞

❝ this... this feels like home. ❞

❝ you’re so easy to love, you know that? ❞

❝ you don’t have to do anything. just being here is enough. ❞

❝ stay here. fall asleep with me. ❞

❝ i made you coffee. extra sweet, just how you like it. ❞

❝ i could listen to your laugh forever. ❞

❝ i think i loved you before i even realized it. ❞

❝ i don’t care what we do, as long as it’s with you. ❞

❝ i missed you more than i know how to say. ❞

❝ you’re safe with me. always. ❞

❝ let me take care of you today, yeah? ❞

❝ i just really, really like being yours. ❞

❝ you have the kindest eyes i’ve ever seen. ❞

❝ being around you makes everything feel softer. ❞

❝ i’m not letting go first this time. ❞

❝ you make everything feel less heavy. ❞

❝ come here. let me hold you for a while. ❞

❝ i’d rather do nothing with you than something with anyone else. ❞

❝ you don’t have to be perfect for me to love you. ❞

❝ even on your worst days, you’re still my favorite person. ❞

❝ i didn’t know how much i needed this until you. ❞

❝ promise me you’ll always stay this close. ❞

❝ i feel like i can breathe when i’m with you. ❞

❝ you’re the calm in every storm. ❞

❝ there’s no one else i’d rather build a life with. ❞

❝ every day with you is my favorite. ❞

❝ you mean more to me than words could ever explain. ❞

❝ i’ll choose you in every lifetime. ❞

❝ you’re my soft place to land. ❞

❝ your laugh makes everything feel right again. ❞

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littlelovelunette · 3 months ago

Text

concept: What Are Tits? (2)

part 1

concept idea: @onlyvika

yet another sleepy fic lunette is writing at 5 am in the morning bc im such a little simp (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)

contains suggestive themes, nipple play, dry humping, mentions of gagging, sexual fantasies

You genuinely had no clue what had went down when you were drunk yesterday. You and Sevika were indeed still friends, but you had a feeling if she ever heard you call her your friend, she'd unsheath the machete in her mechanical arm. When you arrived at Last Drop today, you pushed your way through the crowd and walked to the bar as per usual, ordering your drink and taking a seat.

Right then, you started feeling stares on you, people glancing at you and murmuring something to either themselves or the person next to them. Your brows furrowed slightly but you didn't really question it, you probably did something stupid while you were drunk.

The bartender passed your drink, before lowering his voice to add, "Are you and Sevika dating? I've never seen her so casual with someone who pisses her off during her game." The bartender asked in a hushed whisper.

"What?" You asked almost innocently. "Pisses her off? Shit. What'd I do?" Your fingers fidgeted nervously as you waited for his reply only he didn't give you a proper one.

"You asked her what... Breasts were." He said, looking away as he flushed saying that. Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red, too. You hung your head low. If Sevika hadn't killed you for asking her that, you could've died out of embarrassment right then and there. All your dignity went flying out of the window.

You saw one of the men she gambled with walk upto you, "Sevika wants to see you." He said with a stoic face making you contemplate whether it would be a wise decision to actually go see her. But you needed to woman up to your actions so you got up, paid for your drink, finishing the shot in one go and approached Sevika's table.

"Hey..." You mumbled in a timid voice, suddenly all your bravado was gone and you felt like a very out-of-place kitten on a cold rainy night. Sevika didn't quite look up at you, throwing her cards on the table, revealing she effortlessly won yet another round of poker causing others to groan.

She got up, gesturing you to follow her. Smoke wafted from her cigarillo that was tucked between those pretty dark lips that you wished you'd get to kiss someday. But now you were worried if you'd see any day at all after today.

Sevika took you to an eerily familiar room and before you could respond, she pinned you to the wall with a slight slam of your body. You yelped slightly, big innocent eyes gawking up at her. "Fuck, and you look like you'd never ask me such ridiculous questions, drunkenly even." Sevika said, flesh fingers stroking your jaw before grabbing it to make you maintain eye contact with her. "Do you even have any memory of what unfolded yesterday?"

You opened your mouth to say no but then everything started flashing through your mind. Sevika's tits.

...They looked warm, soft and squishy... They were perfect in their natural place without even needing a bra, not that she was wearing one... Her areolas were dark, and slightly bigger than the average and nipples now hardening under the cold air of the room.

"Oh my goodness. I am so sorry." You said, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Sevika's flesh hand shifted from your jaw to your neck.

"You should be careful what you wish for, doll, or I might as well had just give in." Sevika said, her voice low and deep, she let go of your throat to put her cigarillo out hastily before turning back to you. "You'd... You'd actually hook up with me?" You asked sheepishly.

"Are you saying I have bad taste?" Sevika raised a brow and you shook your head. "No, no, of course not."

The air in the room was tense and you don't know what came over you but something did. It was just so much of an intimate setting and you couldn't help leaning into her touch. Your body was almost out of control, Sevika's flesh arm grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against her firm frame. Your cheeks almost glowing red, you look up at her and she kissed you. Sevika fucking kissed you.

Her kiss was exactly how you thought it'd be, slow and rough. "You owe me, doll." Sevika whispered against your lips. You knew exactly what she meant by that. You didn't even hesitate, pulling the zipper of your dress, slipping the strap right off to expose your plush mounds to the cold air of the room.

Your nipples instantly hardened. "Fuck." Sevika cursed under her breath, her big hands wrapping around your tits and giving them a good squeeze before her thumbs rolled over the nipples. You moaned subtly, leaning back against the wall for support.

Her flesh hand was warm and mechanical hand was cold on your tits, the warmth providing comfort and coldness providing sensuality. Your lips parted when you felt her tracing your areola with her cold metal finger before her flesh fingers pinched your other nipple.

"You're so dirty." You whined, rubbing your pantie-covered crotch against her clothed thigh. Sevika watched you grind your covered pussy against the rough material of her pants, a slow smirk forming on her lips.

"Oh yeah? Yet you're the one actin' like a fuckin' bitch in heat." Sevika pushed her thigh between your legs, slotting it there perfectly while her hands continued taking care of your tits. You desperately grinded against her thigh, shy moans leaving your lips. "Please, touch me more."

Sevika chuckled at your pleas, flesh hand moving to grab your ass and pull you into her body. She bent down to capture your nipple in her mouth, giving it a firm tug using her teeth. Oh, the tooth gap, your nipple caught in between perfectly. You had to cover your mouth so you didn't moan too loudly. "Sevika, someone might catch us like this." You whispered.

"Oh, yeah? You wanna take this to the bed?" Sevika asked before giving you a particularly harsh nip, leaving a hickey on your neck. You whimpered before nodding your head. Sevika gave your cunt a last rub using her leg before pulling away. Without a word, she slipped off your wet panties and pocketed then without hesitation. "Okay, then."

"Hey, give them back..." You whined helplessly but Sevika didn't let you whine too long, silencing you with a kiss. "You're a real talker during sex, aren't you? I'll use 'em to gag your pretty mouth when I actually get to fuck you, yeah?" Sevika smirked knowing you were getting wetter with the second, and your short dress wasn't helping considering she took away your panties.

"I hate you."

Sevika cashed out, and led you out of the bar. All the while you were left struggling, trying to pull at the hem of your short dress to cover more. You could feel the slick wetness against your inner thighs.

All you wished now was to be spread on Sevika's bed and eaten out like there's no tomorrow. Fingered till you squirt all over her and the sheets. Dicked down till you can't breathe, incoherent mess of sentences leaving your drooling lips. Oh, the fantasies.

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boyfhee · 1 year ago

Text

박성훈 、PRETTY FACE

all the trouble sunghoon gets himself in lands him in your arms.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ kissing, mentions of cuts, injuries and blood, just a whole lot of fluff i miss writing cute stuff, insecurities perhaps ( 1370 )

notes ⋆ rich boy sunghoon....save me from him. also this was not meant to be above a thousand words and was supposed to be funny. and this one's for saint @hoonvrs hi bae

one thing you’ve learnt while dating sunghoon, it’s always an adventure. so unforeseen, like when he showed up at your balcony, again, last night with a few bruises and cuts on his face. you had let him in and he avoids your attempt at cupping his face just as swiftly. and dating sunghoon is exhilarating, with the way you let him stay for the night, again, knowing your parents are home.

“good morning,” you smile and brush your thumb over the cut on the corner of his lips. it’s red, his lips are dry, and yet they’re soft when you lean down for a quick peck.

“morning, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “how creepy of you to watch me sleep,”

“guess i’ll be a creep if it means i get to look at your handsome face,” you hum, fighting back a smile.

“is that a compliment i hear?” and he’s almost turning away to sleep, but your words catch him off, and he smirks drowsily with a soft and sleepy gaze adorning you. “what’s the occasion?”

“i’m serious, hoon. you’re handsome,” you insist with a frown, cupping his face again, thumb brushing over his cheeks as you lean in and whisper ever so tenderly. “so handsome, it’s crazy,”

“well, aren’t you sweet, my love,” and he can’t help but wrap his arms around you, pulling you on top of him. it’s quiet, you lay with your head on his chest. it’s barely six, you look out through the huge glass window panes installed in your room by your request to fit the aesthetic, but now it’s how sunghoon climbs up your room every other night.

it’s not usual for him to get compliments. usually, you’re trying to play it cool, as if his words don’t affect you as much as he thinks they do. on other days, you’re busy rolling your eyes every time he flirts. you make him work for compliments, it’s funny, and he enjoys it. a little bit of challenge in his way too easy lifestyle keeps him going. but today— as you’re quietly listening to his heartbeat while he’s caressing your back— you want to stay like this.

he brushes his fingers through your hair, planting soft kisses on your head every few seconds. it’s rare for you two to be this quiet. with sunghoon, every minute spent on bed leads to something else, most of the time. but this time it’s silent, it’s risky, he’s in your room and as much as he jokes about it, the idea of being caught by your parents isn’t something either of you fancy.

“i think i should get up and leave before your—” it lands upon you to worry about keeping everything a secret, today it’s his job to make sure the secret is safe.

“it stings, doesn’t it?” you cut him off immediately, pinning him down as he tries to get up. he can see the concern in your eyes, worries trickling through your finger tips and seeping through his skin when you lace your fingers over his scratches.

“i told you, they’re not that bad,” he shrugs, too careless, carefree. he doesn’t know why you worry yourself over something so minor. “they don’t even hurt,”

“it hurts me to see you like this,” and his thoughts are put to halt when the words leave your mouth.

it was half past one when sunghoon knocked at the glass doors of your balcony. you were getting ready for bed after movies, and he was avoiding your gaze as you were running your eyes over his state— messy, hurt, and so were you.

‘did you get into another fight with heeseung?’ you had asked and he avoided, again, dodging all your questions and attempts to check on him. you let him in, and he goes straight to your bathroom. his gaze doesn’t meet your eyes, he avoids all the eye contact and conversation. he turns away to take off his shirt covered in dirt. it’s worse this time. ‘come here,’

you grabbed his arm to pull him towards you, but he refused to face you. he’s ashamed, like every time he is when you see him like this. the pretty face you’ve always been so fond of no longer fits the definition. you tried to make him look at you, but he grabbed your hands, kissing your palms and pulled you to bed.

“is that a new way of telling me to not get into fights?” he asks, feigning a yawn, a faint chuckle following by. you’re still on top of him, pinning him down, and if he didn’t know any better, you would’ve ended up under him already.

“is it working?”

“a bit,” he mumbles quietly and pulls you closer by your waist, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. he keeps planting tender kisses on your cheeks, and then down on your neck, as if telling you to let go of all the concerns that plague your mind. “you worry too much,”

“i know, i will continue to do that,” you pull back again, much to his disappointment. nothing could compare to the feeling of having you in his arms. “if not for your dad and for the sake of your reputation then at least for me, you need to stop,”

sunghoon knows.

if not for anything— it isn’t for anything else. not for his mother’s million dollars fashion brand, not for his sister’s business ventures, nor his father’s political career. it’s for you, every scratch, every nip and every cut, every drop of blood that had trickled down the corner of his lips when heeseung landed a punch on his face. how could he not? sunghoon can stand anything but people talking down on you as if they know you. it makes him fight for you and funnily enough, he’s happy to bleed to death for you.

“you always ruin the mood, bringing that old man up,” he’s deflecting— just as you had expected and you’re not backing down. one leg swinging to the other side, arms by his head. he’s down, caged, a position where he can’t avoid you. it’s about time you two had this conversation.

“i’m serious,” you’re trying your best to keep up the stern face, eyes locked into his.

“i love it when you get all serious, angel,” he grins suggestively, arms around your waist again. he’s slipping them under your top, you slap it away and it only makes him laugh in amusement. “i suppose it is a bit too early for that,”

you don’t say anything, just looking at his pretty face. you stroke softly over the cut on his cheekbone and he flinches ever so slightly. it’s new, it stings, adorned by a bit of dried up blood just like the one on his lips. there’s one near his jaw from a while ago, it’s healing. each and every part an ugly reminder of how much trouble he gets in.

“you’re such a pretty face,” you whisper quietly and lean down to kiss him, trying to be so gentle to not hurt him even more. you take your sweet time, tracing your lips over those wounds, new or old, and then speaking with a voice impossibly loving. “even with these,”

“i love it when you call me that,” he takes your hand, kissing your palms. it’s not everyday that he’s spoiled like this.

and you pull your hand back, speaking with frown as if giving him a warning. “i won’t anymore if you get into another fight,”

“guess we’re making truce with heeseung,” he chuckles quietly, shaking his head, pretending to be annoyed. he finally pulls you down next to him and wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “things i do for my girl,”

you let out a muffled laughter while your face is buried in his chest before looking up at him with love pouring out of your eyes. “for me?”

“for you,” you hand rests on his cheeks as he leans down for a kiss, and his hands wrap over them gently, holding them in place. when you kiss him so deeply yet delicately, like it’s a stellar reunion, he pulls away just for a brief second, whispering against your lips. “everything,”

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elssero · 11 months ago

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bakugo would be the type of dad who for the life of him cannot say no to his little girl.

k.bakugo

♰ girldad ! bakugo fluff <333

he never imagined himself as a family man, he’d always had the idea that he’d work his ass off for number one and just.. do that forever?

he kept that mindset right up until he met you. pretty little thing with a mouth just as snappy as his and that was all it took for him to be whipped.

to say you swept him of his feet would be an understatement. he physically bumped into you in his agency building and in return you raised your voice at him and told him to watch where the fuck he’s going.

the rest is certainly history, he chases after you and you let him. much to his delight your married a mere 3 years later, laughing at the stupidity of your first meeting.

when discussing children you decide on one for now, bakugo grew up and only child and he quite enjoyed being the center of his parents attention, he only wishes the same for his own.

your pregnant in no time, thanks to his… persistent efforts and he can’t contain the love he has for you as you begin to swell. he completely dotes on you.

your hungry? a three course meal is on its way. your sleepy? he’s carrying you bridal style, laying you down in bed and tucking you in. you deserve only best in his eyes, just as his little girl will.

he doesn’t leave you or the baby’s side for weeks after the birth, your begging him to go back to work at this point because kirishima cannot work another 16 hour shift to cover for him.

he hates every minute he spends away from you, it’s spent grumbling about how he’d much rather be curled up in bed with you. he drops in the charts the first year the child is born but he doesn’t care, he can’t care, not when he’s coming home to you- his beautiful wife and his pride and joy of a baby girl.

as the kid gets older he starts working full time again, you too go back to work a couple days a week while your child’s at school, he insists that you don’t- he takes good enough care of you right?? but you do it anyway, it’s more for something to do rather than for the income.

now spending more time away from his kid- the time he does spend with her he cherishes every minute, they’re baking cookies, he’s taking her shopping, he’s spoiling her rotten :(.

she feels a little sick and wants to stay off school? suddenly they’re both begging you to let her stay off and when you finally agree- he’s calling into work saying he can’t make it so they can spend the day together.

he helps her with quirk training when she insists she wants to be a hero just like daddy. he cries the first time he hears it, unable to control the surge of joy he feels seeing his kids face looking up at him with admiration.

he takes her into the agency to meet all her favorite pro heros- he sets up play dates with his friends kids so his little angel can grow up around kids her age.

as she grows he makes sure that they never lose their closeness- he promises her that she can tell him anything and she does, she truely the light of his life.

it’s the last year of middle school for his girl when he gets the phone call he’s been dreading for years- she got into a fight today in school, a serious one too it seems and he’s rushing as fast as he possibly can, he doesn’t even take the time to phone you because he’s so worried, he makes a mental note to call you the second he’s out of the place.

he bursts through the door and he can’t help the sigh of relief he lets out when he sees that she’s okay, infact she’s not ruffed up at all- which only makes him more worried. had his kid been the one to start the fight? his little angel?

the principal explains the situation pretty clearly, the other kid involved admitted that they had been purposely attempting to get under her skin- using his name to do it.

he’s furious of course- but he can’t help overwhelming happiness that bubbles in his throat when he realises this is your first fight- a fight that you had only started to protect his name.

he thanks the principal for his time and escorts his kid out, she’s silent the entire walk back to the car while he fights back a smirk- “are you mad at me?” she looks up at him from her place in the passenger seat and he just bursts into a smile-

“let’s go get some ice cream kid- just don’t tell your mother about this alright?”

#bnha #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #dad bakugou #fluff #mha fluff

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siolixz · 3 months ago

Text

'*•.¸♡ FATHER FIGURE ♡¸.•*'

Being Lucy's sister came with a lot of perks: good food, nice places to stay at- a rich handsome multimillionaire falling madly in love with you. Did I mention the rich handsome multimillioanire?

pairing: harry castillo x reader (Lucy's sister)

part2

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

context: just fluff and romcom scenarios, older man x younger woman, everyone is over 18 and fully consenting; words: 3k I hope you will enjoy and pls tell me if you like it or tell me if you don't- I will probably write a part 2 with smut if it is well received. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ I will probably write the smut anyways tho loll Yes i have put a George Michael song name as the title put me in jail or whatever. Also I have no idea if his name is Randy or Harry so oh well, who cares hes so sexy.

It was a beautiful day in New York that welcomed you right back here in this city, looking across the cafe for your Lucy.

You slept in today, after a long plane ride and a longer ride to your sister's apartment you had to get your rest for the days ahead- and for the wedding. Because of spring break and because she received a plus one invitation to one of her glorious matchmaking results- her ninth to be more precise, you just had to join her in New York for the week ahead. You didn’t have anything else better to do, plus, you missed her.

She smiled at your sleepy face as you sat down in front of her.

As the coffee arrived you finally had some time to catch up on life, on your school and on her job. More importantly, how could John ever break up with her? She’s successful, she's beautiful and she’s brilliant. You told her that you were hoping she could finally get a guy who actually deserves her.

“I hope your wedding will be the tenth-” you started.

“Maybe it will be yours princess, did you think of that?” She smirked at you, clearly enjoying the banter you two were so used to having.

“So that’s why you called me here- to set me up with someone?” you leaned across the table “Because I’m taking the first plane back to college if that's the case.” There’s nothing more embarrassing than your own sister setting you up, I mean you could get a date if you tried but the boys back at school are, lacking.. certain qualities you were hoping for in a man.

She laughed at your expression, knowing you were being sarcastic and joking but also not really. You could hardly hear each other anymore as more people came into the cafe.

She grabbed the hand you had on the table as she said: “You’ve grown so much- I’m so happy you're here with me.”

All day long you walked across New York City, first it was dress shopping- you probably tried on like 10 dresses before picking a gorgeous green floor length dress and your sister a blue dress. She covered everything like the great older sister she is and on you went towards Sephora to get everything you might need or just plain wanted- perks of having an older sister with money- and then it was take out time back home; feet sore and exhausted. You loved and hated being in this city, but you could clearly see why Lucy wanted to live here. So many people, so many stories to tell. You two took a nap and then by late afternoon you were out again for dinner with some of her friends and then for a walk in central park.

“You know, I think tomorrow is going to be really special.” she linked your arms together as you passed people.

“Really?” you turned the upper part of your body towards your sister as you walked. “In what way may I ask?”

“Like in a good way; maybe you’ll meet someone.” she whispered the last part “Or maybe in a bad way.” She turned away from you like she was thinking. “Last time we were at a wedding together, you were very little- remember you got that stomach bug-”

“Ugh don’t remind me Lucy” you grimaced at her macabre reminiscing while she laughed in your face “We just ate-”

The wedding was truly beautiful, the bride and groom looked great together and the food was completely out of this world. The groom was a finance guy, so it made sense that the wedding would be held in a grandiose style, I mean they had a chocolate fountain for god sake. And free gifts for people- free gifts!

You and Lucy talked with some people, ate some food from the candy bar while gossiping and danced a little bit but you had to take a break as ‘Cupid’ herself was socializing with acquaintances. You texted some of your friends, one from childhood and two from college- all ecstatic about the amazing things there. You had to remember to get Maddy a necklace as her birthday was coming up and Mark asked if you could get him a lucky cat doll and also-

“Is this seat taken?”

You looked up at the owner of the voice, “Um, no- no it’s not.”

Um, yes it was, your sister was seated there- who even is this?

The stranger sat on the chair, turned his whole body to look at you and placed his hand under his head- like he was engaged in the most passionate discussion.

From this position you could finally see the man up close- this must be the groom's best friend. Your sister told you as you sat down during the ceremony, even if you were seated far away, you could remember him now. He was right next to the groom.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you-”

“No, it’s okay-” Now you’re interrupting him, please stop.

He smiled at you, endeared by your attempt at alienating his worries. His smile reached his eyes and the corners wrinkled, like a testament of this strange man’s seasoned life. He looked at you in an almost parental fashion like he already knew you- wait, do you know him?

Your sister has a bunch of friends and acquaintances around New York, maybe you did know him. “Do we know each other?”

“No, I don’t believe we have met.”

He had this air about him, like he was so comfortable and sure of himself. He smiled again at you, like he knew something you did not, was there something on your teeth?

“My name is Harry, it’s nice to meet you, miss…” You told him your name and he repeated it.

Why was your heart beating so fast? Maybe because he was very, very handsome.

“Would you like a drink?” he said your name again and you forgot all about the phone buzzing in your hand.

“Um..”

You looked across the ornate ballroom for your sister for a second.

“Wait, you’re old enough to drink, right?” His smile faltered for a second but he quickly regained it as you reassured him that you were indeed, old enough to drink.

He ordered a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him and while you chatted, he asked about what you were doing in New York and how you knew the bride and the groom.

“You’re the matchmaker’s sister.” he pointed at you and you teared your gaze away from his beautiful brown eyes to notice the green ring on his finger.

“I am.”

He must’ve noticed you looking at it as he too, looked at it- then at you and remarked:

“Green is my favorite color.”

This handsome man was clearly hitting on you, but why? You haven’t chatted with anyone this evening besides your sister and some basic chit-chat with the bride. He must’ve singled you out of the crowd as only a man with experience could have probably. Well it wasn’t going to end how he hoped, with you in his bed and him never calling you again. You weren’t born yesterday nor were you that desperate, no matter how handsome he was nor how tall and big he was compared to you-

No, you’re not going anywhere with him, you’re here for and with your sister. Speaking of which-

“I see you’ve made some friends.” She smiled as she came closer and introduced herself to Harry. Harry. What a beautiful name.

As he turned his head towards her you looked at the curls he had at the base of his neck and thought you could never look at someone more handsome- his face looked like it was sculpted!

She made some polite conversation and It wasn’t long before she had to excuse you two in order to introduce you to some people there.

So in about 2 minutes- you said your goodbye’s and you left him there, silently hoping that maybe he could call out your name as you walked away or run after you and tell you he is madly in love with you ‘please don’t go’ - you audibly giggled next to your sister as you walked away, amused entirely by your schoolgirl-like-dreams as she gave you an odd look.

It was the cosmopolitan’s fault, you were sure.

As the night wore on you tried to see him again but to no avail; he must’ve left with some pretty model or gorgeous woman- the thought left an emptiness in your stomach you couldn’t shake for the whole night.

You were woken up by the sunrays on your face and by an immense amount of thirst that left your throat feeling like you scratched it all night long. You grabbed your phone instinctively and after about 30 minutes of coming back to life you finally got up.

As you entered the living room you saw your older sister on the phone and gave her a small wave.

She nodded her head at you as you walked into the kitchen to grab some ice cold water.

Why was everything so hot in this apartment?

After she finished her phone call you could finally debrief with her about last night's events, the most important of those things was definitely her meeting up with John again.

“Life just finds a way I guess.” you told her as she grabbed a coke from the fridge.

“Yeah, I guess.” She opened the can, took a sip and said “By the way, I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah, what?” You couldn’t deny the way your heart jumped a little bit- maybe a bit more.

“I have a date for you.”

“Lucy, no..” you groaned. Was it with him? God let it be him.

“Hear me out, ok? I have to be at a girlfriend's house this evening and I want you to go, I would hate for you to be inside while I go have fun- plus you don’t have to go on a second date or anything, this is just for fun- no expectations, ok?” She pleaded with her eyes at you.

“I can’t say anything about this guy, but you have a lot in common, he is also a student like you- maybe you can bond over that.”

The day dragged on until 5pm when you had to get ready, you were hoping this guy wasn’t some snob or insufferable, but you trusted your sister. A short red dress and heels would suffice, as you were going to quite a fancy restaurant on the upper east side. When you arrived you said your name to the waiter and sat down at one of the beautiful velvet booths and ordered a glass of water for yourself. Being alone in a place as fancy as this, you did feel quite out of place a little bit.

On to wait for that guy to show up, even though you arrived on time.

Traffic in New York is horrible, so maybe he is fashionably late.

He was not fashionably late as 45 minutes had passed and you were still alone, you could see people glance at you between the sounds of silverware- pitying you.

Or maybe no one cared, it was hard to tell- especially because you were so embarrassed.

Your fingers itched for your phone, to text Lucy a 'I told you so'. Netflix and pajamas sounded infinitely better than this empty booth and the pitying glances. God you wish you were home right now, not dressed so fancy and looking so good only to be stood up.

The waiter came back, probably to ask you if anyone is coming.

No, no one is coming.

“Is this seat taken?”

You looked up in bewilderment and met the gorgeous brown eyes of last night's enamourment. Harry was looking down at you, an amused look in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, almost too loud in this fancy setting. “No, no it’s not.” Your heart started beating fast as he sat down in front of you, he looked even more handsome in the dimmed yellow lights of this restaurant.

He took off his dress jacket and placed it on the chair, you couldn't help but stare at the way his big arms looked, he was a very big man, so handsome too-

“I was having a meeting with my business partner and I looked across the room and there you were. “ He smiled at you like he did last night.

You were happy to see him, very happy.

“What are you doing here, Cinderella?”

“I was waiting for someone, some guy my sister set me up with- he didn’t show up.” You leaned across the table so only he could hear what you said, not the old couple next to you two as well.

“What an idiot.” He leaned close to you as well and you could smell his cologne “Well it’s good I am here now, right? We can carry on last night's conversation.”

As you two ordered food, he asked you what you were studying.

“Psychology. I have a scholarship.”

“So you’re beautiful and smart.” He placed the napkin he received across his lap and you felt your ears get warm- you hoped the lights in this restaurant would dim the blush on your face as well. “Do you like what you are studying?”

“Yes I do. I truly want to start my own clinic back home and help people.” You must’ve talked for like some full minutes about your degree and dreams while he asked you questions. He seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying, like he wanted to learn as much as he could about you.

He told you he would like to be your first pacient when you do become a psychologist and you laughed.

Harry was a funny man, very charming as well, though he had a way of turning a phrase to escape any sort of mention towards his private life, you wondered why that is.

“Can I ask you a question?” you played with the short hem of your dress under the table.

“Of course, anything you want.” He took a sip of his drink as he looked at you. His hands looked so big around the glass.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but may I ask how old you are?” you could find in his eyes a touch of mischief, like he was thinking of something funny to say so he could see you smile.

“24.” he said. With the most monotone voice he could muster and with a straight face.

“24?” you asked, knowing he was messing around with you but deciding to play into his game.

“Yes, I lived a rough couple of years as you can see. What’s so funny?” he asked you, faking being angry at your smiling face.

“Nothing.” you tried to hide your smile.

“You better not be laughing at my life story.”

“I’m really not.” you put on your serious face.

A man came by your table as the waiter started bringing dessert, and Harry got up to greet him, the man shook Harry’s hand and thanked him, before he left he gave you a polite smile and a ‘good night’ to both of you as he exited the restaurant with his wife or girlfriend.

“Old friend.” Harry said as he sat back down again “He just bought an apartment complex.”

“Wow, he must be rich.”

“Very rich indeed.” he took the spoon from next to the plate and cut through the lava cake he was brought. “Like this chocolate.”

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to dance with me yesterday” He looked at you again and you wanted to die inside when you remembered that you left him. "You missed out," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm quite the dancer."

"Oh, really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Don’t worry. I'm a fast learner. I won’t let you get away twice"

"Is that a threat?" you asked.

"A promise," he corrected you as he took a bite of the dessert.

Harry asked for your number by the end of the night and you gave it to him, of course you did.

As he told the waiter that he should put the dinner on his tab you protested, but he would have none of it. He said that this was the most fun he had in a while as he got up and watched you exit the booth.

“Let me take you home-” He started as he let you walk ahead of him; you tried to ignore the way he looked at you; like he was still hungry.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, I’ll call an uber.” He helped you put on your jacket before he opened the door for you.

A soft breeze danced around the streets of the city at this late hour- you hugged your jacket closer to you. You didn’t want your meeting to end, but it had to.

“Nonsense, let me take you home, c’mon.” He climbed the steps before you and turned around so your eyes could meet at the same level. His dark hair, with its natural waves, framed his face and the silver streak in his hair reminded you of something- he was so handsome, how was he so handsome? He smelled great too.

You smiled at him, maybe the drink you had inside made you this courageous.

“You never told me how old you are.” Everyone passing by you two must think you were drunk by the way you were smiling at each other. He grabbed your hands in his much bigger ones and pressed them close together, like one might do to a child to make them listen- butterflies danced across your stomach again because of the sudden intimacy.

Harry’s smile faltered slightly and he adopted a more serious expression before lowering his voice and telling you: “I’m 49 years old.”

His deep brown eyes searched your face, like wanting to remember it before you start showing any signs of discomfort.

You wanted to say something, before he interrupted you “If you are uncomfortable, I promise, I’ll take you home and I’ll never say-”

“And If I am not?” you spoke over him.

His eyebrows relaxed back on his face as relief washed over his expression and a smile slowly started spreading across his lips. His eyes twinkled under the light above you two from the entrance of the restaurant and he looked at you like he wanted to kiss you.

“I’ll take you home then.”

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this for you and for me. I hope you have a great day and wish u de best.

If you are one of my long time followers, I just wanna say im sorry that I havent written anything in quite a while, but life got in the way and I just couldn't find any inspiration to give you something actually good. But I am back now! And to stay for good this time unless stated otherwise. ILY

#pedro x reader #harry castillo #harry castillo x reader #harry castillo x you #materialists #pedro pascal fic #harry castillo fanfiction #pedro pascal #materialistics movie

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fatuismooches · 2 years ago

Note

Could you please write about the Harbingers spending time with the reader on their birthdays? But maybe they send what they did with you as a letter to the Traveler like the in-game feature? :D

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

synopsis: The Traveler naturally expects mail in their inbox whenever the Harbingers' birthdays roll around. However, they didn't expect it to be so... lovey-dovey, and all about you.

includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader

notes: I've finally finished it! I've been wanting to write something similar to my voice line post for a while, so here it is - the Harbingers sending birthday mail, except they're very down bad for you :3 Includes a letter, a photograph, and attached items with the letter! (Sorry to the Pulcinella fans, I was too lazy to write him in.)

“Home…”

Sender: Pierro

It is my birthday today. Normally, I would have continued on my day as usual, but [Name] had another idea in mind, going so far as to get the Tsaritsa herself to block the door to my office and then dragging me away. It seems they were planning this for a while… The last birthday I celebrated was the year Khaenri’ah fell. What purpose did today serve when my homeland and people were gone? As the years went on, it began to slip my mind and I nearly would have forgotten the date, were it not for [Name]’s question a while ago. I thought nothing of it, but I did not think [Name] would have taken this so seriously.

They knew I would enjoy anything so long as it was with them, yet they had the entire day planned out. Claiming that I needed some fresh air, we walked through the Snezhnayan streets, the normally biting frost a bit warmer than usual. Casual browsing at some new stores that opened up. [Name]’s attempt at starting a snowball fight. And lastly… grocery shopping.

When we got back, they wouldn’t let me help or look. But I could tell from the smell exactly what they were making. It turns out that they managed to make a dish from my home country. I am not sure how they managed to get a hold of this recipe… I must have mentioned it offhandedly and they improvised from there. Of course, it’s not an exact replica, but nonetheless, it tasted delicious. Just for a few minutes, I was taken back to my previous home. That home will never come back, but I have a new one now.

And now the day is almost over. Despite their best efforts to stay awake until the end of the day, they succumbed to their sleepiness, now lying on my lap. They were supposed to read me something they made, but perhaps I’ll find out what that was tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be back to normal again. But that is alright. I still do not believe I deserve a day like today but, if this is what [Name] desires, then I shall not refuse them again. I’ll look forward to the next birthday just as they do.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Pierro and you in it. The Harbinger is seated at a table with a homemade dish in front of him. His giant coat and mask are placed off to the side, revealing scars from long ago. You’re glued to his side, trying to feed him by holding the spoon close to his mouth. Pierro is a grown man, the Traveler thinks, he does not need you to feed him… However, he looks quite content with this arrangement so the blonde won’t question it any further. In fact, he looks as if he’s right at home.

Attached Items:

Ancient Khaenri’ahn Dish [A meal unique to Khaneri’ah that has long been forgotten by the world. Although you clearly struggled to make it due to a lack of experience, even the Traveler can taste how much of your love was put into it.]

Khaenri’ahn Story Book [A book that contains numerous fairy tales and various stories originating from the lost nation, written by none other than Pierro himself, and illustrated by you. Apparently, it was born from you begging him to tell you stories from his home, and eventually, the Harbinger began to write them down so you could read them instead of bothering him so often. However, it made the problem worse as now you bother him to read them to you. How sweet.]

—

“A Day Off.”

Sender: Dottore

[Name] has convinced me to go back to Sumeru with them for a couple of days. I couldn’t care less about this day, but they were adamant about spending the whole day with me, and that they “will not be spending my birthday in a dark gloomy lab again.”

My research has regrettably halted for a bit, but I suppose this was not a bad idea. This was the first time in many years that either of us had stepped foot back into Sumeru - we had not been back since I was expelled from the Akademiya, besides my segments of course.

[Name] and I trekked the same path we used to walk during our studies at the Akademiya. It was a good spot for studying and conducting experiments without any disturbances - that was until they started following me around. They were a nuisance at first… but eventually, [Name] began to help me deconstruct a variety of machines, which was helpful. And then would laugh at me whenever I ended up breaking them.

Ever since I met them, [Name] has always said a lot of strange things, but their most recent comment was that they wanted to drink the blue liquid in the vial I carry around. They think it looks… tropical and vibrant. Of course, I refused them. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t provide them with it, they’d try and get it themselves. I was not interested in having to inject an antidote into them, so I came up with a solution.

I know that I am no chef, but this goes outside the realm of cooking. It wasn’t hard to create a sweet drink that would be to [Name]’s liking with the same color. They were more pleased than I thought and demanded that I make it for them more often. I do not care much for nourishment, but perhaps I’ll try my hand at it more often. They have insisted that I send you some, too. So, Traveler, is it to your liking as well? Even if it’s not, I do not care, so don’t bother telling me.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Dottore and you in it. Despite how much the Traveler has explored Sumeru, they can’t seem to pinpoint the location where it was taken. It must really be a secret place, just for the two of you. Dottore’s mask is on his lap, revealing crimson eyes and scarred skin. You seem to have fallen asleep on his shoulder, as your eyes are closed, though your mouth seems to be agape, perhaps mumbling some nonsense in your sleep. Dottore’s expression is exasperated, but there is a certain fondness in his eyes, one that the Traveler can’t distinguish, or rather, they refuse to believe it. Did the Kamera have an editing function now? Because surely, the photograph must have been forged or something, because there was no way The Doctor could ever have such a tender look in his eyes…

Attached Items:

Strange Blue Concoction [Some kind of legitimate drink that’s the same color as the vial Dottore carries around. According to [Name], it is quite delicious, but would any sane person dare to try anything from The Doctor of all people…? Who knows, these two might be trying to poison the blonde.]

Assortment of Ruin Guard Parts [Parts from Ruin Guards Dottore created and assembled himself. A wide variety of parts are here, including Chaos Cores, Circuits, and Devices. Wait… they seem to all be damaged and broken. Hey, did Dottore just send the Traveler his useless parts?!]

—

“Care For A Show?”

Sender: Columbina

Hello dear Traveler! How are you?~ Today has been such a wonderful day. Why, you ask? Because it’s my birthday of course! ♪ The one day when I have the ability to drag my beloved [Name] wherever I want, with no resistance. Normally they protest for quite a bit, telling me I have a mountain of work to do but, they don’t need to worry their pretty little head about that. ♫ Is it that much of a crime to slack off to spend time with one’s beloved? But oh, that little routine of ours is something that I do cherish.

My dearest [Name] took me to a play. We were among the first to see it, as it was the opening day. You know, they always tell me that as a Harbinger, I should be more conscious of how I present myself. But is it really a problem to sit in their lap instead of my chair? It’s not like anyone can see us all the way up on the balcony seats, hmm? ♬ Moving on though~ The play was quite an interesting story.

It was of an angel who fell in love with a mere human, despite how taboo it was. When the two were caught, the angel had to decide - would she rather retain their purity and remain in the heavens or fall down, stripped of her divinity to be with her human? Well, if you want to see the ending, you’ll just have to come to Snezhnaya and watch it yourself. ♪ But do tell me Traveler, if you were in a situation like that, what would you choose? … I already know what my choice would be.

Ah, but that show was not even the best part! After that, [Name] put on their own performance for me, just the two of us. It was beautiful of course, the way they convey their choice of art is always worthy of praise. But, they always seem to seek my feedback and criticism… they told me they want to keep improving to make me even more pleased but, how many times do I need to explain to them that I already believe their craft is beautiful? Nevertheless, I do indulge them, if only to satisfy my love. Why don’t you take a look at one of our collaborations, Traveler? It is quite good if I do say so myself. ♫

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Columbina and you in it. The lighting in the theater is a bit dim, so your figures are a bit faded but, the Traveler can still make out the two of you. The two of you have separate chairs but, Columbina is practically spilling onto yours, her head comfortably resting against your chest. You seem as though this is normal for you, which it probably is. Wait, is Columbina sleeping? It seems she probably got bored during the intermission… That’s why you specifically chose your clothes to double as a blanket for your wife.

Attached Items:

Music Score [A music score composed by both you and Columbina. The two of you performed it perfectly together as a present to your wife. Of course, it’s bound to be mesmerizing considering Columbina’s participation. So hauntingly beautiful, that in fact, it might end your life before you get to the end… is that an exaggeration? Well, it seems like the Traveler will have to take that risk.]

Pair of Tickets [Tickets gifted to the Traveler and Paimon. There’s no name on it or any expiration date, so it can be used to watch a single play in Snezhnaya for free, with the best seats in-house, so pick carefully. These things are quite expensive, so don’t go losing them now! Otherwise, Columbina and [Name] might ban the traveling duo from the theater…]

—

“An Excellent Day.”

Sender: Capitano

Today is my birthday. However, I have never been very adept at celebrating this day. I realize that it is the norm to celebrate one’s birthday, but I have never felt the need to. Though, ever since I became a Harbinger, my recruits have always wished me well today. Unfortunately, when the bolder ones ask me what I have planned, I have nothing interesting to respond with, always prompting them to urge me to do something… In the hallways, I always hear conversations along the lines of even though being a Harbinger is busy, I deserve to do something nice on my birthday. But in reality, it does not bother me at all. Is it really that strange not to do anything on one’s birthday?

When [Name] found out how I normally spend my birthdays, they shared a similar sentiment and promised to make this one “the most eventful and fun and best one I’ve ever had.” They said that since this is our first year together, they need to make my birthday an excellent one. Although I tried to reassure them they needn’t try so hard for me, they were insistent. However, true to their word, I would say my birthday did end up being an excellent one.

One thing about [Name] is they never fail to teach me something new. In this case, they taught me what it means to celebrate a birthday, and I’d say I learned a lot. As stated by them, there is no exact or definite way to celebrate. It is what you make of it. And they, knowing the kind of man I was, chose the activities accordingly. (There were a few mishaps but everything went well for the most part. It is not customary to break a few knives while cutting cake, so I feared that I may have ruined things, but [Name] reassured me it was normal.)

So all in all, today was an excellent day. However, I am faced with a problem now. What should I do when [Name]’s birthday comes? Should I do the same thing they did for me? But would they think that is low effort and unoriginal? I do not wish to disappoint them. Traveler, do you have any ideas? Also, please ask Tartaglia for me as well. The last time I spoke to him, he tried to ask me for a duel.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Capitano and you in it. The snowy forest terrain looks as picturesque as ever, but what really draws attention is the man and his lover in the middle. Mostly, the Harbinger who has a squirrel or two perched on him, not to mention the few birds that made their nest in the fluff of his coat. And even some cats? Where did they come from?! Well, it’s best not to question it. It’s rather endearing. Rather, one should question how silent and unmoving the Captain is in an effort to not disturb all the animals. Just ignore the deer in the background waiting for some attention too.

Attached Items:

How To Celebrate Your Birthday Pamphlet [A collaboration between Capitano’s Fan Club and [Name]. The fan club loves you immensely because you help to put their long-awaited plans into action. The numerous activities in this guide (blowing out the candles, feeding each other cake, gift giving, lots of affection, etc) were written out by the club and dutifully carried out by you. There were also birthday punches, but Capitano was confused as to why you were tickling him.]

Capitano and [Name]’s Picture Book [Don’t tell anyone this, but Capitano has a tendency to name all the creatures of the forest near his mansion. At first, he went there to train, but decided against it after seeing all the animals around there, because he doesn’t want to scare them away. What he did not expect was to befriend all of them… you came across him one day talking to them after searching for him. How can he tell them apart? Even you don’t know. But this book is dedicated to all of his animal friends, with pictures taken by you of course. So if the Traveler happens to visit Snezhnaya someday, make sure to be nice to these little guys!]

—

“They’re Annoying…”

Sender: Wanderer

It is that time of year again when my birthday rolls around. You know very well I do not care much for this day, but once again, there are always annoyances at my every turn… Both Lesser Lord Kusanali and [Name] always prove to be a thorn in my side on this day. In the past, I usually spent my birthdays under the sakura trees in Inazuma, visiting [Name]. But, things have changed now. I no longer am who I once was, and my relationship with [Name] is no longer the same. They have forgotten me, and our past together… but Lesser Lord Kusanali has forced us to interact again numerous times, leading to our current relationship. Lesser Lord Kusanali always pats my back, saying that time will lead us back to each other… how irritating.

Speaking of her being irritating, she decided to tell [Name] that today was my birthday, a horrible decision. Now, they’ve run all over Sumeru looking for me, until they finally found me in the House of Daena. Panting and gasping for air, all I could hear was them sincerely apologizing over and over for not knowing my birthday. They promised they’d get me a late birthday gift, even though I kept repeating that it was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it has always been hard to get things through their thick skull. All I know for sure is that Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely planned this and that she will tease me to no end the next time I see her…

Still, they dragged me through Sumeru City. According to them, they knew I wouldn’t like anything too fancy, so they brought me to an alleyway. Your typical textbook dark and narrow one. And at the end were… cats. Many of them. [Name] turned to me with a smile and said they bet I didn’t know about this secret kitty haven, and that it was a perfect gift for someone like me. I do wonder if Sumeru’s sun has made them crazy sometimes.

But, this birthday wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be. So… that’s nice, I guess. Actually, Lesser Lord Kusanali had assigned me a paper to write. A paper on [Name], on my own birthday. She said that she wasn’t going to read or check it, but it was for my sake. How preposterous, right? How would anything like that help me?

But tonight… I feel as though I’ll make some progress on it.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Wanderer and you in it. The puppet is at the top of the ladder in the House of Daena, searching for books (most likely forced to by the Dendro Archon), but your figure can be made out at the bottom. You seem to be waving and beckoning him to come down, so he can have a good time with you for his birthday. Wanderer doesn’t seem very excited about it, but… he will always indulge you, the person he can’t deny he loves. Hmm? Why is he using a ladder instead of his Anemo powers? Well, perhaps the puppet doesn’t like drawing attention to himself.

Attached Items:

Essay Concerning Inazuman Society and Politics [An essay Wanderer has written during his time spent in Vahumana. What, did the Traveler really think he’d send the essay he wrote about [Name]? However, Paimon couldn’t make it through the title page, and even the Traveler struggled through it. But, it seems to be your favorite essay of his, considering all the notes you made in it, not to mention the noodles you drew when you got bored… Wanderer probably scolded you for that but, it’s never in bad faith.]

Tricolor Dango [A plate of dango that [Name] brought for Wanderer as a treat. It seems that they are unaware of his dislike of sweet food… But the puppet did not want to hurt their feelings considering the thought and effort they put into his birthday, so he did not decline it.]

—

“A Lavish Tea Party.”

Sender: Sandrone

Unbeknownst to me, [Name] recently had a variety of sweets from Fontaine imported. It seemed like they tinkered with my bots once again, to get them on their side so I would remain in the dark… they can be such a hassle to deal with sometimes. However, this means that their skills are ever improving, as I’ve been improving my Automatons to be much more complex. As expected of my assistant. Speaking of, they’ve also imported some other things that I’ve been wanting for a while. Hopefully, they’re up to standard this time, or they’ll have to be returned. Ugh, I hate dealing with the Ninth whenever that happens…

Though back to the subject, it seems that [Name] has once again needlessly gone out of their way, since today is my date of birth. Although I don’t like being distracted from my research, and I see no need to waste time just because I happened to be born today, this break that [Name] has prepared for me isn’t too bad. I have not attended a proper tea party in far too long. The fools I have for agents can never set it up correctly.

[Name] is not someone who dresses up very often, but they always make the effort to match their attire with mine. Something that other people should learn from, but alas. Though, I wish they did it more often. Not even the most well-crafted doll could match their beauty. Have I told them that? No, they should be smart enough to figure that out by themselves.

Regardless, I must cut this letter short. After this, I want to work on an Automaton with [Name]. I have held off on it because they have expressed interest in it, and since we are together now, it is the perfect time to work on it. I was expecting them to get huffy at me working today, but it seems that they are pleased to work with me. I wonder why.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Sandrone and you in it. A wide array of treats and sweets are plated on numerous platters, along with ceramic tea cups waiting to be filled with piping hot tea. The surrounding robots are also fashioned in a similar style as her, perfect attire for the tea party, holding additional trays of desserts. (Can these robots eat too?) You’re pouring your wife her favorite kind of tea as you’ve already set her plate, while she sits patiently with her hands folded. Despite Sandrone’s doll-like features, one can see a small smile on her face.

Attached Items:

Instructions For A Perfect Tea Party [Sandrone’s set of instructions as to how a perfect tea party is conducted. Some of the rules seem nonsensical and impossible to many, which is why no Fatui agent can ever live up to the Harbinger’s expectations, as she will not accept anything less than what she desires. However, you are the only person who has managed to fulfill all the rules to a tee, which is one of the reasons she greatly favors you. Sending this list to the Traveler and Paimon is also her way of saying they are never invited as they will never be able to fulfill the rules in a way that satisfies her… how rude!]

Clockwork Toy of Sandrone [A Harbinger toy from Leschots Clockwork Workshop in Fontaine. They seem to have dabbled in making toys of the Harbingers as they said they would, and who better to start with than the machinery genius herself? Of course, Sandrone can point out numerous flaws with the design and components, and probably criticized it heavily to you, but you still seem to love it, because it’s of her! Unfortunately, your wife doesn’t like that very much… why settle for something inferior when you could have it in much higher quality? So the Harbinger decided to make a toy of herself that lives up to her standard. The Traveler can have the faulty one…]

—

“Another Year Passes…”

Sender: La Signora

In the past, I used to be quite fond of birthdays. In Mondstadt, I would always celebrate it with him every year. But after he died, birthdays left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I never dared think about doing anything on this day ever again. How could I, when he was no longer by my side? But today is my birthday again, and I find myself happy. Why? Because of [Name], the person who taught me how to love again. Admittedly, I pushed away the idea at first. But after some more reflection, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to [Name]. The past is the past, and the present is the present. If [Name] wants to make me feel special on my birthday, then who am I to stop them?

And indeed they did pamper me. They always pamper me but, today it was much more than normal. Breakfast in bed, massages, hair brushing, helping me put on my clothes, opening doors for me, fancy dinner and wine after work. I don’t think there was a single moment where they weren’t trying to do something for me. It gave me a good chuckle, which made them embarrassed. But truly, it made me happy. I had… forgotten what it feels like to be cared for on my birthday. It’s a foreign feeling but, I hope that the foreignness eventually goes away after some time.

However, I must tell them that there’s no need to overexert themselves just because it is my birthday. Although I do enjoy the extra treatment, it does neither of us any good for them to fall asleep before the night is even over. But, that’s okay. There is always next year, yes?

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Signora and you in it. You are fast asleep on the Fair Lady’s lap, a peaceful expression on your face. A similar one is on Signora’s, as there is no one else around, and she can let her guard down around you. There are a few of her flame moths scattered around the room as well, a few on the two of you. As her blonde hair spills onto your face and body, one can only guess what she is thinking.

Attached Items:

Tea Break Pancakes [Despite Signora’s history with her home nation, it’s said that she still enjoys the cuisine from there. So, you like to cook her food from there whenever you can. It might not be as good as a professional’s but it provides her a taste of home. A taste of your love, which is her favorite flavor.]

Rose [It’s no secret that roses are Signora’s favorite flower. Beautiful yet thorny, alluring yet dangerous. There are many kinds of roses with all sorts of meanings in this world, but you two have been seen exchanging only one kind - a red one. Whatever could it mean?]

—

“Birthdays…”

Sender: Pantalone

When I was a child, birthdays did not mean much to me. After all, how could one focus on their date of birth when it seemed like life was full of nothing but curses and suffering? It was only another day of working to survive. But when I met [Name], they changed that. With them, the day began to have… meaning. Purpose. It wasn’t anything grand, but they made it special, distracting me from another day of poverty. Even with their meager earnings, they never failed to gift me something, even if it was of little to no value, or not the best quality… I cherished it. No one else had ever thought of me so much. When I look back, every time my birthday came around again, my love for them only grew more.

Now that we are adults, my only wish is to repay their kindness and spoil them with as many gifts as they deserve. However, there are a few issues with this. There are times I find myself more disappointed with the world than usual because it has yet to create something that would be a suitable gift that would be on par with my love for my dear [Name]. However, whenever my spouse gifts me something, their thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. How is it that they always manage to gift me something wonderful and touching? When I questioned them about this, they raised an eyebrow and gave me a strange look. It seems that I will not learn their secret anytime soon. How unfortunate.

Not to mention, dearest [Name] gets upset when I spend “ludicrous amounts of money” (their words) on them, especially on my birthday, so they’ve “forbidden” me from doing so today. They are rather persistent on this, and their long lectures and expressions are rather amusing, so I’ll indulge them… for now. Do you think they realize I’ll just spend double the amount the next day? Regardless, birthdays are always well spent with [Name], and I plan to enjoy this one fully, just as I have in the past because they are the one who makes my birthday a day worth celebrating.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Pantalone and you in it. The two of you are taking a walk in Snezhnaya, browsing stores and the like. Even though it is Pantalone’s birthday, he seems insistent on trying to buy out a few stores for you once again… so in order to prevent him from doing that, you’ve hidden yourself in his coat, stopping him from walking properly. The Harbinger seems rather entertained by your antics and your head popping out of his coat… he should make you do this more often. It’s perfect for head pats.

Attached Items:

Pantalone’s Spare Change [As it is his birthday, Pantalone is feeling more generous than usual, so he is sending a bit of funds to the Traveler. There is no need for any repayment, take it as a symbol of the Fatui’s goodwill. (However, it would do good to proceed with caution… this is the Ninth, after all.) Opening it up, the duo expects to see an average amount of money, but instead are presented with a couple of million Mora… if this is what Pantalone is willing to send to the Traveler, how much does he spend on [Name]?! Paimon doesn’t want to imagine the number!]

[Name]’s Guide to Gift Giving [A piece written by you to detail how you always choose the best gift for Pantalone, unbeknownst to your husband. Opening it up, the Traveler is very curious as to how you manage to win over the Harbinger every time, a man who has everything he could possibly want at his fingertips. But instead, only one sentence is written on the paper - “I don’t know how I do it either.”]

—

“Appreciation.”

Sender: Arlecchino

Birthdays were not very much celebrated in the House of Hearth, especially when the former Knave was around. However, that changed when [Name] came along. Years ago, I still remember when they gifted Lynette her first tea cup set. Freminet, a collection of spare parts that he ended up using to make another clockwork toy. And probably the biggest hassle… gifting little Lyney a white rabbit. However, I do appreciate my lover’s efforts. The children always look forward to their birthdays much more now, some even going as far as to drop hints about their desired gift and give puppy eyes to [Name] when the time rolls around. I have to remind my children not to get greedy, and to be grateful for what they already have…

I also remember the first birthday they gifted me something as well. A part of me expected it, considering the way they behaved, but still, it was an… unfamiliar feeling, to be gifted something. And, it was also the day little Lyney and Lynette presented their first amateur magic show to me. Of course, they had much to improve on, but looking back it was a suitable birthday gift, considering how much I’ve seen the two grow now. Needless to say, I appreciate [Name] very much, for what they have given me and my children.

My birthday has come once more, and [Name] is celebrating it as they always feel the need to. Really, even if they did nothing, I would still appreciate it, considering all they’ve done. The sweets they gathered this time were exceptional, and we had a lovely chat, before taking a walk through Fontaine. They say that the flowers that grow in the wild are always the prettiest, especially the Rainbow Roses.

Ah, last of all, if you could do me a favor, that would be greatly appreciated. You have been in Fontaine for a while now, yes? It would be a great help to me if you could point me to some good operas. [Name] and I have watched many in Snezhnaya, however, we don’t often have the chance to watch any in Fontaine, with our work and all. Thank you. And please, do not bore me or waste my time.

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Arlecchino and you in it. You two are sitting in a field in Fontaine somewhere, with Rainbow Roses to the side. One of them has been tucked into the Harbinger’s hair, while you seem to be focusing on creating… a flower crown? Despite the pinkness of the rose greatly contrasting with Arlecchino’s whole dark red, black, and white look, she seems to not mind your antics and waits patiently for you to complete your work of art. Of course, as a Fontainian, she knows very well what Rainbow Roses symbolize, and won’t turn down the physical manifestation of your feelings.

Attached Items:

List of Yummy Hidden Gems [A list of great places to buy sweets from in Fontaine, courtesy of [Name], passed on by Arlecchino. Sure, Hotel Debord and Café Lutece do have some excellent sweets, but there are many hidden restaurants and bakeries that provide delicious treats as well! Do stop by and give them a try. Arlecchino favors many of their products. If one needs a similar list for the other nations, do tell.]

Slice of Birthday Cake [An exquisite slice of cake cut from Arlecchino’s birthday cake. She doesn’t care much for the tradition, but [Name] always buys one anyway as an excuse to treat the children from the House to something nice. You know you shouldn’t spoil them so much, but you can’t help it!]

—

“Splash!”

Sender: Tartaglia

Hey comrade! How have you been? Sorry if my handwriting isn’t the best. I sparred with [Name] for my birthday, and they really roughed me up. Not that I mind, I asked them to go all out. Normally they don’t like fighting with me, because they always insist they don’t like hurting me, but they couldn’t say no to me today. You know, I would like to see the two of you fight. It would be an exhilarating experience.

But anyway, after they patched me up, we took a dive in Fontaine’s waters! You know, whenever I visit Liyue, we often go to cool off in Yaoguang Shoal, but Fontaine’s oceans are so much different. The scenery, the terrain, the greenery, the wildlife… good thing I bought them a waterproof Kamera. Speaking of wildlife, [Name] and I befriended a blubberbeast. [Name] instantly fell in love with the creature, and I feel as though they gave a bit too much attention to it, but, seeing them smile is the best gift I could ever ask for. Maybe I should gift them a plushie of it? However, it is a bit amusing that something that looks as defenseless as that could pack such a punch!

Did you know this, Traveler? Apparently, Romaritime Flowers represent loyalty. [Name] gifted me a bouquet which I was initially confused about since I usually give them flowers instead. But after some quick research, these flowers mean unbreaking oaths. It was a bit ironic really, for I should have gifted them instead as I always swore to be loyal to them, my family, and the Tsaritsa, but it was a wonderful gift. Not to mention the delicious meal they prepared. They’ve been busy researching the best Fontaine recipes for me, so I could make them for Teucer and the others back home, but maybe I should just drag them to Snezhnaya so they could do it instead… I never leave anything but empty plates whenever [Name] cooks for me, but they’ve packaged some for you too, Traveler!

Next time we fight at the Golden House, I’ll bring [Name] along too. Do you think you can hold your own against both of us at the same time?

Attached Photograph:

A picture is included with the letter that has Childe and you in it. You two are under the sea, with a Blubberbeast between the two of you. The creature is nudging you while Childe looks on amused. It seems that it’s been begging for some more attention, food, and head pats. Maybe some tummy rubs too. Apparently, you named it Big Cutie, because well… it’s a big cutie! Unfortunately, it seems to have a little bit of a grudge against the Harbinger because he accidentally attacked it.

Attached Items:

[Name]’s Special Macarons [Rainbow Macarons but with a special twist from [Name]. On the top and bottom of the sweet treat are… faces? Very detailed ones too, with colored hair and eyes! Ah, the faces are none other than [Name], Childe, Teucer, and all of his other siblings! Oh, and macarons of Traveler and Paimon were made as well, how kind! Childe says they’re quite delicious, and he is a great cook, so they must be.]

Freshly Caught Fish [Fish caught by Childe. It seems that the two lovers also went fishing after diving a bit, as one knows how much Childe loves to fish. Sadly, your fishing skills still pale in comparison compared to his and you barely caught anything… That’s alright though! No matter how long it takes, he’ll always happily help you hone your skills!]

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