#It just seems like something he would like

[yanderenightmare]

TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

fem reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks

JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna or Toji

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo

AOT – Eren

[moonstruckme]

omg i'm SO obsessed with roommate james like you don't understanddddd 😭💗 i've been loving the shy reader fics so far i'm so excited to see more of them!! i don't know if this would make sense w/ shy reader so honestly just write it however you want but i would loooove to see something w/ roommate james where he has friends over but is always like talking about her and checking on her and everything and his friends are just teasing him about it hahaha i think it would be so fun!! anyway tysm and i hope you have a good day!!!

Hi sweetheart! I had this scene already written but I did implement a couple of the things you requested, hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Somehow, you’ve wound up basically in James’ armpit. 

“Falsehoods!” James is laughing, nearly shouting, but you get the sense one needs to yell a bit to communicate in this friend group. Everyone except Lily and Remus, that is, for whom the others seem to quiet reflexively every time they start to speak. “Lies and falsehoods! If I recall, I wasn’t the one who left a pot in the sink for so long it grew mold.” 

“It wasn’t my pot!” Sirius defends himself, propping himself up on Remus' shoulder to make his point. He’s somehow managed to recline on the arm of your couch, his boyfriend’s arm wrapped cautiously around his waist to keep him from slipping off. “You cooked pasta in it and then forgot!” 

“Y/n,” says Lily, sitting across her girlfriend’s lap, “blink twice if you need help.” 

Mary laughs, hooking her hands under Lily’s knees to pull her closer and then intertwining their fingers. This is another thing you’ve noticed about James’ friends: they have a tendency to pile. Not even necessarily with their respective significant others and seemingly regardless of the seating available; last time you came home Sirius was half across James’ lap and Lily and Remus were sitting together on the rug as if the rest of the couch wasn’t empty. 

You laugh too, self-consciousness making you slip further down James’ side when the others look your way. So, it’s possible you have some idea of how you came to be basically in his armpit. 

James grins down at you. “Don’t listen to them,” he stage-whispers. “We both know what a good roommate I can be, under the right management.” 

Your answering smile comes far too easily. You like seeing James like this. You don’t think he’s ever not himself, but as soon as Sirius got here it’s like he dialed up to eleven. And he obviously loves his friends, entertaining them, making them laugh. You can see why, too. They’re an easy bunch to talk to. 

It probably helps that James has been practically tipping ciders down your throat (he hasn’t; he’s offered them to you, and you’ve gulped them down like the nervous freak you are), but you’re actually having a good time. You felt a bit indebted after he’d bought you a pizza last week and you’d still chickened out of coming downstairs, but now you’re glad you’re here. 

Your body feels loose and liquidy, and your shoulder is just starting to hurt from the position you’re in (which makes you wonder how long James’ ribs have been hurting from your shoulder digging into them) when he looks down at you again. He seems amused. 

“You comfy down there?” he asks. 

“Meh.” It’s an honest answer. 

“Here.” He brings his arm to your shoulder, propping you up and then scooching closer to you on the couch. Now you’re not in his armpit so much as under his arm, which drops from where it’s draped across the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. “Better?” 

“Yeah.” Even the social lubricant of alcohol can’t keep the nervous edge from your voice. “Thanks.” 

“Course, love.” He gives your shoulder another little squeeze, beaming as he focuses back on the conversation. 

Your chest hurts, a gratifying ache. 

You manage to down another cider before his friends start saying their goodbyes, Sirius and Remus each whipping out a cigarette as soon as they’re outside while Lily and Mary fake cough and James heckles them lovingly from the doorway. 

When he shuts the door he’s still smiling, so obviously content you can’t help but feel a crush of affection for him. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” you say, grabbing a rag to clean up where Mary had accidentally spilled a bit of her drink. 

“Of course, I told you you’re always—what are you doing?” 

He sounds so affronted you actually think you’ve done something wrong. You look up from where you’re mopping up the spill, confused. 

“I’m cleaning everything from tonight,” he says, still looking outraged. 

You smile in relief when you realize it’s feigned. “Don’t be stupid. I was participating tonight, too.”

“You make it sound like you were an accomplice to some crime.” James sits down beside you and steals the rag from your hand, cleaning up the rest of the spill himself. “You’re off the hook, you were practically coerced.” 

“I was,” you agree, standing and gathering the dishes from the coffee table instead, “but it was fun in the end. I’m a little bit glad you coerced me.” 

You can hear James’ smile in his voice. “I’ll be sure to do it more often. First, I’m gonna coerce you into hanging out with us again on Friday, and then—“ He turns around, eyes narrowing as he spots the couple of glasses you’re carrying “—stop picking up my mess! Fuck, I can’t keep up with you, you’re like a machine.” 

A giggle fizzes out of you. James stands and holds his hands out for them, but you take a couple of steps back. “Why can’t I help? Anyway, you’re just as clean as I am.” 

“Because, it was my idea,” he laughs, pursuing you. “And I’m only clean because you’re clean.” He backs you up against the stairs, wrestling the glasses away from you with frustrating ease. “If I thought you didn’t care, this whole place would look like the inside of my room.” 

You give an odd bark of laughter, leaning on the banister to look at him. He looks ridiculously smug, both glasses held in one big hand. “Oh my god, you’re so nice. It’s pathological.” 

“Wow.” Some of the smugness falls away as James grins at you. “That’s a real one.” 

“What?” 

“Your smile,” he says. You still don’t get how he can do this eye contact thing, looking at you so openly while he seems so sincere. Your own gaze flees downward, warmth rushing to your cheeks. “I don’t get to see it a lot, out in the open like that. It’s really lovely.” 

He reaches for you, doing this weird chin-pinching thing that shouldn’t be half as endearing as it is. You roll your eyes, but your mouth seems stuck. You don’t know how to respond. 

James doesn’t seem to notice, taking the glasses with him into the kitchen. You grab a few more off the table and follow him. He’s turned the light above the sink on, but the rest of the kitchen is dim. His long sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he makes soapy water in the sink. 

As you come in, he turns around to take the glasses from you, the light from above casting a glowy halo of his thick brown hair. He’s so beautiful it makes your stomach hurt. You’re suddenly worried you might be just inebriated enough to do something stupid. 

James narrows his eyes at you teasingly as he snatches the glasses away. “Enough of that,” he scolds. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any more help?” you ask. 

He rolls his eyes. You’re pretty sure he didn’t do that so much before he started hanging out with you. On him, it somehow manages to look fond. “Positive,” he says. “Go stop being useful.” 

You catch yourself biting the inside of your lip. “Okay. Then I think I’m gonna head up for the night.” 

“Yeah?” James looks over, and you wonder for a second if something in your voice has given you away. He looks confused, a bit worried, but then that melds into a soft sweetness. He gives you a smile. “Okay. Sweet dreams.” 

“You too,” you say, doing your best to smile in response before you round the corner to the stairs. 

Your brain feels fuzzy. You’re not sure if that’s from alcohol or fatigue or something else entirely, but it feels good to put on your pajamas, clean your face in front of the mirror. The covers on your bed are soft and heavy. You can hear the kitchen sink running downstairs as you slip beneath them, James finally starting to rinse the dishes before he turns in for the night, too. 

You think of his boisterous laugh, the weight of his arm around your shoulders, his thumb pressing into your chin. 

When you close your eyelids, you half expect to find a faint outline of his smile impressed upon the insides.

[yuujispinkhair]

sukuna who's over heels with y/n, but y/n is stupidly in love with yuuji who is falling in love with megumi?!

Omggg I love this!!!! Thank you for sending me this 💗

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female)

Fluff. Hurt & Comfort. Friends to lovers. 2k words. Unrequited love/pining in the beginning. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end (Yuuji gets his happy end with Megumi). Mentions of cigarettes + alcohol. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna can only shake his head at the irony. He is in love. He is fucking in love for the first time in his life, and of course, it has to be someone he cannot have! Out of everyone at this stupid college, it has to be the girl who likes his brother!

If it were any other guy, Sukuna wouldn't give a fuck and just flirt like hell with the girl he wants and give his best to steal her away from that other guy. But the problem is that Itadori Sukuna might be an asshole, but he isn't the type of asshole that would steal his brother's girl.

So Sukuna swallows down his heartbreak and forces himself to hold back, refusing to stand in the way of his baby brother's happiness. Sukuna might only be three minutes older, but he is still the big bro, still the one who sees it as his responsibility to look after his "little" brother. And Yuuji deserves it. He deserves a girl like you. He deserves your love. Sukuna will stay strong. He can do it.

But what Sukuna didn't take into account is how completely oblivious his brother is to your feelings.

You follow Yuuji around like a lost puppy, giving him hearteyes, practically swooning anytime he smiles his sunshine smile, hanging on his lips when he talks about his movie-directing classes and his new favorite TV show. But Yuuji doesn't seem to notice. And it makes Sukuna so mad! It drives him crazy! He almost spits his drink out when his brother gives you a high five and calls you "bro".

Sukuna feels sick to his stomach when he watches you wring your hands and shyly ask Yuuji if he maybe wants to go to the cinema with you to see the newest Human Earthworm movie. That super trashy horror series that Yuuji is always gushing about, which Sukuna is 99% sure you don't really like but only want to endure for the boy you have a big crush on.

But Sukuna's oblivious idiot of a brother just laughs and nods, happy that someone shares his taste, and totally misses the point,

"Yes, that's perfect! Let's also ask Megumi and Nobara to join us! Let's all go together! It will be so much fun!"

Sukuna thinks he can not only feel his own heart ache but also yours as he sees your face fall even while you force yourself to nod bravely and smile a sad smile at Yuuji.

It takes everything in Sukuna not to say something. But his restraint only lasts until he is alone with his brother. The moment the others have left, he shoves Yuuji into the wall, grabs his collar, and growls at him,

"You are so fucking dumb, brat! I would give anything to be in your shoes, but you don't even see that she wants you!"

And Yuuji blinks at him, all big eyes and completely confused,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sukuna lets go of Yuuji, slumping against the wall next to him, sighing and explaining the situation to him. How Sukuna likes you, and how you like Yuuji, and how everything is such a mess, and how much he hates it, especially when his little brother is too blind to see what he could have!

"Now you know, brat. Go, get her. Just don't rub it in my face, ok? I'll stay away as much as possible."

Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, about to run away and hide in some dark corner or maybe find someone to fuck and distract him from all this shit. But to his utter surprise, Yuuji's hand darts out and grabs Sukuna's sleeve.

"Wait, Kuna! I don't even have those kinds of feelings for her! There is... um... well, there is actually someone else I like."

He stands there, scratching his neck, looking sheepishly at Sukuna and blushing a bit as Sukuna stares at him with question marks in his eyes.

"Who??"

"Um, he has black hair and likes dogs and... ah shit."

And Sukuna can't help it. He bursts out laughing, doubling over because this is just so fucking dumb and messy and getting more complicated every second, and he probably should have known!

"Damn, brat, that really sounds like you! Falling for your best friend!"

In the end, Sukuna plays matchmaker for Yuuji and Megumi. It's easy, considering the way Fushiguro has been looking at Yuuji since the first day he met him. And yeah, Sukuna is not only doing it because he loves his baby brother but also because of selfish reasons. Because it means you will have to let go of your crush on Yuuji. Not that Sukuna thinks you will turn to him, but at least he won't have to watch you date his brother and pretend he doesn't care!

It feels like someone is stabbing Sukuna's heart when he watches your face twist in pain at the next party when you see Yuuji walking into the room with Megumi's hand in his.

But it will be fine! After all, Sukuna is here to catch you and mend your broken heart again. As a friend, at least.

He quickly follows you when you leave the room and run towards the backyard. You sit down on the slightly damp grass, and Sukuna joins you, sitting silently next to you while tears run down your cheeks. Sukuna offers you his half-smoked cigarette, and when your eyes meet, he can't help but think that surely you must see the pain in his eyes, too.

He quickly takes a sip from the bottle he is holding to hide the emotions threatening to swallow him while silently cursing himself for following you out here. He misjudged how fucking hard it is to look at you when you are crying. If only Sukuna could just close the distance between you and claim you as his, just kiss all your pain and his pain away.

But of course, he knows it would be too soon. For once in his life, Sukuna doesn't just want to be a one-night stand or a rebound or a revenge fuck or whatever. For once in his life, he wants more. He wants everything.

And so Sukuna is patient. Just offers you his silent company, his cigarette, his bottle of vodka, and his leather jacket when it gets chilly, and you start to shiver. He offers you his friendship, his protection, and the kind of comfort he can give without fucking you. He drives you home, makes sure you have something to eat and get some sleep.

He bangs on your door three days later when you still haven't come back to campus, calling you a brat and an idiot because it's the only way he knows how to show his worry. But he hopes he's making it better by shoving a vanilla latte and a bag with muffins from your favorite coffee shop into your hands.

Your eyes look puffy from crying, and you seem confused about what he is doing here, but you take the food and coffee from him. And Sukuna smirks at you and refuses to leave when you tell him you look like hell and don't want him to see you like that.

"I don't care, princess. Eat those damn muffins and drink your latte before it gets cold. I didn't stand in line for half an hour for you to just ignore my treats. And by the way, you always look pretty to me."

He stays until you had breakfast and took a shower, coming back to the living area with a soft,

"Thank you, Sukuna. It was nice of you to bring me muffins and coffee."

Sukuna finally leaves, lifting one tattooed hand to casually wave at you as if his heart isn't about to burst because he wants to pull you against his chest and hold you and tell you he can make you happy again.

He skips some of his classes and instead goes to the gym, working out like a madman and beating up a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think about how sad you looked and how fucking much he wants to kiss it better.

He comes back the next day to pick you up and take you to the coffee shop with him, making sure you leave the house and join the living again! It cannot be that you are crying your eyes out in your room all day!

"Stop complaining and get your bratty ass off the couch! It will be good for you to get some fresh air and shit. I am warning you if you don't put on shoes in the next 30 seconds, I will make you walk to the coffee shop in socks!"

Oh yes, Sukuna is good at this. Acting grumpy and playing the asshole while taking care of you and making sure you are ok. And somehow, you are the only one, apart from his brother, who can see right through him because you roll your eyes and laugh softly and tell him that he is the nicest asshole you have ever met.

The two of you fall into a routine where Sukuna picks you up every morning and has breakfast with you before he walks you to your first class. You constantly grow closer, and Sukuna feels his mask slipping more often around you. His typical arrogant smirk softens into a genuine smile. His snide comments turn into compliments. He isn't sure if he is doing it by accident or intentionally. Maybe he is only reacting to the way you act around him.

Because your gaze doesn't follow his brother anymore. Your face doesn't fall when you see Yuuji with Megumi. Your smile doesn't falter when you spot pink hair and realize it's the bad boy twin with the tattoos and not the good boy twin with the sunshine smile. Sukuna even feels like your smile is growing brighter when you look at him.

Could it be?

And he notices more things. Notices how you always sit so close to him now when he is at your dorm and you play video games against each other. How you always laugh at his jokes, no matter how sarcastic they are. Or how you look at him sometimes when you think he doesn't realize it. How your eyes get that dreamy little sparkle when Sukuna is sleepy, and his voice gets low and a bit raspy. How you get goosebumps on your arms when Sukuna puts his hands on your hips to steer you through a crowded room.

A few weeks later, Sukuna finds himself back at the same spot where all those weeks ago, it all began. Sitting next to you in the grass in the small backyard of your friend's dorm, where you cried when Yuuji broke your heart.

But tonight, you aren't crying. Tonight, you are smiling and throwing your head back, laughing at some dry joke Sukuna makes, looking so carefree and happy. Your shoulder is brushing against Sukuna's biceps, and your hand lands on his thigh, giving it a playful smack and staying just a little too long. And Sukuna can't help but say in that low voice, you seem to like so much,

"You are so beautiful."

For a split second, he feels his chest tense up, scared that he fucked everything up. Scared that he got it wrong and you still want his brother. Or maybe some other guy. Scared that you only see Sukuna as a good friend. Or that you only see him the way the whole campus sees him: as that sexy, asshole guy who is only good for casual sex and nothing more.

But then you turn your head to look at him, and Sukuna sees that soft expression in your eyes, the one he used to see on your face when you looked at his brother. But now it is for him, for Sukuna. And he simply knows without you having to spell it out. He knows that things have truly changed.

So, Sukuna decides to do what he wanted to do for a long time.

"I am sorry that you cried the last time we were in this backyard. But I am not sorry for why it happened. My brother is an idiot for not wanting you like that. But I am glad he is an idiot because otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do this..."

And Sukuna puts a hand under your chin, cupping it with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed while looking deeply into your eyes, checking one last time if he really got it right. You look at him with wide eyes, but you smile and nod softly as your gaze travels down to his lips.

And Sukuna sighs and presses his lips gently against yours, kissing you like he never kissed someone before, slow and gentle, as if he is scared you will break or slip through his fingers. A kiss with his eyes closed and his chest filling with a warmth he didn't know until now. A kiss into which Sukuna pours all the secret longing he felt for you for months, all the feelings he tried to hold back for his brother's sake and then for the sake of not fucking things up.

But finally, he doesn't have to hold back anymore. Because you chose him. You chose Sukuna. You are sitting here with him, with your hand in his hair and your lips moving slowly against his, a happy sigh and a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips.

The two of you only stop kissing when Sukuna's head is already spinning from the lack of oxygen. He pulls away only enough to grin at you and stroke your cheek with his thumb. And you smile back at him and whisper,

"I am glad, too, that Yuuji turned me down. Because otherwise I wouldn't have found out that it's his brother who is my perfect match. I wouldn't have found out that you, Itadori Sukuna, are the one I like the most out of everyone."

AAAHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭 Thank you so much for sending me this ask. I see Sukuna + unrequited love/pining and I lose my mind!! It's my weakness and makes me so so soft for him (even more than usual).

I hope you liked this little hurt/comfort story!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[formula-nyoom]

I'm Proud of You

Pairing: Platonic!Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: Being the youngest and newest driver to the grid is not an easy adjustment to make and it ends up taking a toll on you. Thankfully some of the other drivers on the grid are there to look out for you.

A/N: Was going to wait till Saturday to post this, but I had a shit day today so I decided to post it now. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

No one really knew what Mercedes was thinking when they announced that they were signing you, an F2 rookie who placed 6th in the Formula 2 Championship, as the one to take the 2nd Mercedes seat. Everyone expected you to be named a reserve driver, so that you could prepare for the jump to F1. Yet here you were, jumping straight into the deep end. Even after you heard the news that you would be racing in Formula One, you were left more with shock and confusion rather than excitement. 

Sure, you had done a couple of test drives for Mercedes and had participated in an F1 practice session or two, but you didn’t think that was enough to put you in contention for a Formula One seat. 

But the media thought otherwise, and so did Mercedes. 

Both your friends and family tried to reassure you that you were good enough to race in Formula One, and you had seen countless interviews of Toto Wolf saying that he had made the right decision in signing you.

But none of that could take away the fact that all eyes were now on you. 

The first female to race in Formula One, and now the youngest on the grid.

The season hadn’t even started and yet you felt like Atlas holding the world weight of pressure that was placed upon your shoulders. You now have something to prove. And everyone was waiting for you to either fly or fall.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find the courage to cross the turnstile that led into the paddock during the first race weekend of the season. Crossing over would make everything real. And you would be doing it alone, as both your family and your manager weren't able to get to the track till later in the day. 

“Did you forget your badge on the first day?” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Charles and Pierre.

 “You can just jump over the gate. Yuki does it all the time.” Pierre said. 

 “No, I have my badge…I’m just nervous to enter the paddock.” You said, motioning with your head to the turnstiles.

 “What makes you so nervous?” Charles asked.

“There’s a lot of people. And cameras. And people with cameras. I feel like I’m gonna get swarmed as soon as my foot crosses the entrance.” You said.

 “You’re not wrong. The media doesn’t really know the definition of personal space.” Charles said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you want, I can act as a buffer and draw the attention away while Pierre helps you get past.”

 “Would that work? I just want to get to the Mercedes hospitality.”

“Oh trust me, the media loves Charles. They’ll be too focused on getting pictures of him to see us walk by.” Pierre said. You looked back at the people past the entrance and there seemed to be more than when you last looked. 

 “Well…if you’re sure it will work then we might as well try.” You said. Charles smiled and gave you a nod. He then took the sunglasses that were hanging on his hat and put them on before entering the paddock. Immediately, the people that had cameras flocked to Charles and started to take his picture as he tried to walk through the paddock. You and Pierre waited a couple moments to build enough distance between you and Charles before the two of you entered the paddock. You clutched the straps of your bag tightly, expecting the nearby paparazzi to turn around and immediately start taking pictures of you and Pierre, but they were too focused on Charles.  

Pierre’s hand hovered over your shoulder as he tried to block you from most of the cameras while guiding you through the paddock. While the two of you managed to pass Charles without getting noticed, you couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic, seeing Charles surrounded by so many people trying to take his picture. Eventually, you and Pierre managed to make it to the Mercedes hospitality building.

“Is it always going to be like this?” You asked Pierre.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Especially since you’re the newest on the grid. I recommend you invest in a good pair of sunglasses. But I’m proud of you for getting past your first swarm of paparazzi.” Pierre said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and swatted his hand away as Charles walked up to the two of you.

 “Whew! Thank god Lewis walked in. I felt like those reporters and paparazzi would never leave.” Charles said.

 “Sorry for making you go through that.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. 

“Pas de soucis. I’m used to it and know how to handle them. Though I will advise that you never enter the paddock by yourself. The reporters are like vultures.” Charles said. “Anyway, we will see you at the press conference, no?”

 “Yep. I’ll see you there.” You said. Charles patted your shoulder before him and Pierre headed to their own team's hospitality. 

~~~

You were beginning to hate the press conferences that you had to go to. Any question that was directed towards you involved your performance on track, or lack thereof as some reporters like to put it. You were getting tired of having to answer questions that made you feel like a failure.

“This question is for (Y/N). We’re now five races into the season and you’ve been continuously out qualified and out placed by your teammate, George? Is there a certain struggle that you’re having with the car that may be the cause of this?”

If you could walk away from this question, you would. But instead you stayed in your seat and picked up the microphone next to you. Damn Mercedes PR training.

 “There’s still some learning with the car. The engineers have said that the car isn’t up to the standards they want it to be, so I am struggling a bit on track.” You said, giving your best PR approved answer that you could manage.

“But would it be safe to say that you are under performing at Mercedes in comparison to your teammate?” The reporter asked. You tried to steal your expression and act like the comment didn’t bother you.

 “What kind of question is that?” It wasn’t you that asked it, but Lando, who was sitting to your right. You looked at him with some confusion. So did the reporter.

“Is there something you would like to add, Lando?”

“Yea. You can’t say she’s underperforming when she’s a rookie that has only completed five races.” Lando said, an upset expression clear on his face. The reporter cleared his throat.

 “I’m just saying, some have doubts that Mercedes were too hasty in signing an F2 rookie and I wanted to know if that was being reflected in (Y/N)’s driving.” The reporter said, trying to control the situation

 “I think we already know your opinion on Mercedes' decision based on the questions you ask.” Carlos said, who was sitting next to Lando. “I agree with Lando that it’s unfair to judge (Y/N) based on her first five races.”

 “I’d say she’s actually doing pretty good for a rookie, considering she’s been able to score points in two out of the 5 races she’s done so far.” Lando said.

 “Much more than you have ever done.” Carlos said to the reporter. You tried to hide the smile that was slowly forming on your face but inevitably failed as you picked your microphone back up.

“To my two fellow drivers points, I think you’re discounting me too early. I will admit that there is still a learning curve and with the continuous upgrades that Mercedes keeps bringing to the car, I am constantly having to adjust to all the new additions while also trying to get used to driving a Formula One car every other weekend.” You said, making direct eye contact with the reporter. “But I will eventually get used to the car. And when I do, I think I will be able to match George and possibly start out qualifying.”

That seemed to silence the reporter, as he sat back down. It also seemed to signify the end of the press conference as reporters started to pack their things and you and the other drivers sitting on the couch with you got up and left the room.

“Mate, I’m so proud of you and how you handled that reporter.” Lando said once you were out of the room. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

 “I was ready to walk out of the press conference when I heard that question. Why do these reporters always have to compare me to George?”

 “Because that's what they do. All of us get compared to our teammates because our teammates are seen as our biggest competition.” Carlos said. “You’re gonna get it more because you’re new.”

“Just remember that you can refuse to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable.” Lando said. 

 “Even the sexist ones?” You asked. Carlos and Lando nodded their heads.

“Especially the sexist ones.” Carlos said.

 “Better yet, I’ll answer them for you in the most ridiculous manner so that way they’ll stop asking you questions like that.” Lando said, making you laugh.

~~~

So many more races. Too many races. How does a Formula One driver get through all these races and have a chance to calm down? You were used to things going fast, but lately you just wanted a chance to slow down and breathe. 

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in an empty VIP room, looking out the window at a mostly empty racetrack. Phone in hand. Staring at the clock that displayed the timezone back at home.

2:00AM. Your parents are definitely asleep right now. It’s not a good time to call them, no matter how much you want to. 

You were so focused on staring at your phone, you didn’t notice that Max had walked in.

“Sadly I don’t think drivers count as VIPs at the races they have to participate in.” Max said as he sat down next to you, a Redbull in his hand.

 “It’s the only place that I can find privacy and some peace and quiet.” You said still staring at your phone.

2:01AM.

You turned your phone off and let out a sigh, placing it down next to you.

 “Something the matter?” Max asked. You hesitated. You didn’t want to burden a 3-time World Champion with your upset thoughts, that was for your non-existent therapist. But then again, maybe talking to someone who has been in your position before may make you feel a bit better.

“I haven’t found a good time to call my parents since the start of the season.” You said. “They were able to make it to my first race, which was amazing. I was really glad they could come…but with so many races on the calendar, it’s hard for them to come to all of them, and all the changing time zones makes it hard to find a good time to call them.” You told him. “I miss talking to them.”

Max looked at you, took in how you were hugging your knees. Max sometimes forgets that you're now the youngest driver on the grid. On the track he sees you as competition, but now he sees you as the overwhelmed rookie that you looked like right now.

“I understand what you're feeling. It does get overwhelming a lot of times.” He said. You turned to him.

 “How do you deal with it?”

“No matter what country we are in, I try to find a day or time where I can get the farthest away from being a race car driver. A spot that’s farthest away from the track where I’m not “Max Verstappen, The Red Bull Driver”, but just “Max”.” He said.

 “Don’t you get recognized wherever you go?” You asked

“Absolutely. But being away from the track, even for an hour, makes me less overwhelmed. And in regards to wanting to talk to your parents, yes finding a time to communicate is hard, but sometimes you just have to throw timezones out the window and call your parents. Even if you can only talk to them for five minutes, it’s still five minutes that you get to talk to them.” Max explained. 

You thought about what Max said. It would make you feel a bit guilty, waking your parents up in the middle of the night just because you wanted to talk to them. But at the same time, sometimes they’re the only people that could make you feel better. You looked back down at your phone.

2:05 AM

You’d be ok with just five minutes.

 “I think I’m gonna call my parents.” You said to Max. He smiled and gave you a nod before standing up.

 “I’ll let you have your privacy. But my driver’s room is open if you want to talk about anything except racing.” Max said before leaving the room. You smiled at him before calling your parents.

~~~

Finally you had finished a race with what you thought was a good race result. P6 was your highest placement so far this season and it was something you should be proud of. But even if you thought it was a good result, you knew that people were going to comment that George had gotten P4, placing ahead of you again. To you, it felt like no matter how high you climbed up the grid, if George finished in front of you, your result wasn’t something to be proud of. 

You were knocked out of your thoughts by someone bumping your shoulder. It was Oscar walking alongside you. The fact that he was looking directly at you made you assume the bump was intentional to get your attention.

“Proud of you.” Oscar said. “This was just like that one season of Formula 2 we raced in together.”

You scoffed but smiled.

 “Yea, except I now have the knowledge not to shunt the car into the back of yours.” You said. You spent most of thid race chasing Oscar’s rear wing and were glad that you didn’t do what you had just said.

“That time was an accident. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Oscar said. The two of you stopped walking as you got closer to where the podium interviews were taking place. The two of you watched as Charles was getting interviewed about his winning result. 

“So am I gonna see you up on that podium this season?” Oscar asked. You didn’t want to shake your head, but your body acted on instinct. You have been shaking your head a lot these days.

 “That seems unlikely. I haven’t been able to match George’s pace at all and he keeps out qualifying me.” You said. Oscar looked at you confused.

 “What are you on about? You were only 2 seconds off George and that was only because I was in between the two of you.” He said. You sighed.

“Yea but it was still 2 seconds behind George. It doesn’t matter how much time is between the two of us, if I’m behind him that’s all the media is going to care about.” You said. “I’ll never have the pace to pass him.”

“Hey!” Oscar grabbed your shoulders so that you would face him. “You have the pace. You’ve been building it up this whole season. At the start you were what? 10 seconds behind him? Now you’re two. Soon there’s going to be no gap because you’ll be ahead of him at some point. It’s bound to happen.”

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing down, or the fact that Oscar was saying something you had been wanting to hear from your race engineer, or your team princpal, or hell, even it’s something the media should be noticing: that you’re catching up and proving your pace. Oscar’s words were making you feel like you belonged on the grid.

 “You think so?” You asked, needing the confirmation. 

“I know so. Screw what everyone else says.” Oscar said. “Are you proud of your P6?”

 You looked back at your car, then at the car of your teammate’s before your eyes landed back at Charles. You’d be in his spot at some point this season, you just knew it.

 “Yea. I’m proud of myself.”

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That Time You Got Yeeted Into Another World, Mistaken as a God-Sent Gift, and Used as a Prize in an Arena

Yandere Bear-Man Dilf x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, framed for a crime, language barrier, eaten out like it's groceries, biting, scent marking, musk, combat, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 765

(Speed written out of nowhere because I had the idea suddenly, not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you guys like this ficlet. Also forgive the title, in a game I was playing there was a crossover with "That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime" and I liked the vibe of the title.)

You were framed for a crime you didn't commit and in your village the punishment for that crime was immediate exile via being shoved down a steep crater in the center of which is a one-way portal to what is thought to be Hell.

What no one on your side of the portal knew was that on the other side was just another world. A world that celebrated with a great holiday anytime a human came through the portal. It was also a world populated entirely, with the exception of humans who crossed over, by human-like beast hybrids.

Driders, lion hybrids, nagas, aqrabuamelu (scorpion-men), harpies, dog people, centaurs, minotaurs, gnolls, and many other races that seemed to be part human. 

They have a connecting portal in their universe, but any who try to go into it are spat back out. The current went only in one direction.

Every few years, a human would be flung forth from the portal, a gift from the gods! But only the worthy can keep such a gift. So whenever a human comes to the realm from the watcher of the portal will ring the bells and all the warriors assemble and a grand tournament is held at the arena. Whoever wins gets to keep the human and gains enough wealth to care for them properly.

Things are no different when you arrive, you are immediately ushered away, examined, and pampered like a prize doll with no agency. Despite your objections. It seems like only the keeper of the portal has any rudimentary undestanding of your language, not that it helped you. He didn't explain much and his speech wasn't that great. Something about... a big game?

You were naturally frightened beyond all reason, seeing all these beast-men, but it didn't seem like you were being harmed. It really wasn't what you thought hell was going to be like. 

On the day of the big tournament, you were dressed in the finest silks, given a tiny crown of silver, and taken to the best seat in the arena. One where everyone could see you. A cushioned throne was provided for you to sit upon. You figured that this must be a ceremony to welcome people from the portal.

You watched as all the combatants sparred. At first you were horrified, but it became evident that people could yield and death was, almost always, avoided. There were combatants of every variety. 

Even from the start the best seemed to be a naga woman named Eeris and a bear-man named Brakwen. As they advanced through the fights they both finally made it to the finals where they'd clash. Eeris favored twin daggers and fangs while Brakwen used claws and brute strength. He had a sword but had not resorted to using it. 

It was a mighty battle but Brakwen the bear-man managed to win. You still did not yet realize you were the prize. Not until you were escorted down to him and were carried bridal style out of the arena with the crowd cheering. Brakwen had won the god's favor!

From close up he looked even more imposing. He seemed to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He mostly looked like a hairy man from far away though up close his massive size, sharp teeth, claws, thick fur covering his arms and quite frankly adorable bear ears, gave him away. He was rugged but admittedly rather handsome. You knew there was nothing you could do so you let him carry you away. 

Despite the language barrier, Brakwen did his best to please his god-given prize. He could tell you feared him. Especially since you tried to run off a few times. But Brakwen didn't get angry. You never even managed to get past the door. Even if you did there were two gates outside the house. You were far too valuable to let wander off. 

Eventually when you had stopped running off, and when his rut demanded he wait no longer, he began acting a bot more aggressove and sexual towards you. 

Though you tried to stop him it ended with him stretching out your hole with his powerful tongue, lubing you up with his copious amounts of drool, and sliding into you with his massive musky cock.

That's what your life was now. Being treated like a fragile precious gem most of the time and then for one week out of every month you were fucked full of hot bear cum in every possible position, bitten possessively, and scent marked by being forced to wear his oversized clothing. 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

nah cause all i can think abt it rafe being an absolute DICKHEAD to everyone but you. like he 180 changes when ur around and it completely baffles everyone.

OOOOH yes. everyone tellin you “he’s a dickhead, I don’t get why you’re with him.” And youre like “wdym? he’s the sweetest boy ever.” because you nd him and literally like this everyday

his friends hate it sm. I imagine it would go something like this

🪷 ꪆৎ 🕊️‧₊˚♡︎

Everywhere Rafe went, you followed. His friends never had the balls to say anything and just let it happen.

At parties, he was drinking and leaning in his chair, talking to Barry, who currently smoked a joint. A man sat in front of them, offering them an amount of money for the gold from the cross.

Rafe shook his head at the offer.

“That all?” Rafe asked him, unamused.

“I mean,” the dude scoffed. “How much would you take for it?”

“This bar is at least 5 grand. If you don’t got the money, fuckin’ stop wasting my time.”

“How is that five grand?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, irritated as he shut the case the gold was kept it. “Yo, what the fuck did I just say? Stop wasting my time. Get the fuck out.” He nodded, the man scoffing and shaking his head, standing up and walking away.

Rafe seemed irritated, his eyebrows furrowed and his face rested in an annoyed expression. That was until he glanced up and saw you walking towards him.

The man that had tried to buy the gold pushed past you, making you furrow your eyebrows at his rudeness.

Rafe had seen it, his irritation and anger bubbling once again. You just shrugged it off as you continued your stride to your boyfriend.

And he saw your bubbly demeanor, bouncing around happily as you walked towards him with the sweetest smile. He melted, the corners of his lips twisting up to form a smile. You fell into his lap, clearly drunk as you slurred out his name happily, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Hey, baby.” He mumbled softly and quietly, hands rubbing circles on your legs.

Barry raised his eyebrows at Rafe, Rafe motioning for him to leave, his old glare back before he turned his attention back to you.

“You tired?” He asked you quietly.

“Yeah. Wanna go home, Rafey.” You whined and complained. And with anyone else, the nickname would have had someone 6 feet under.

“Alright. We’ll go home. Lemme just clean up here, Kay’?” He patted your ass softly, gently getting you off his lap.

“‘Kay.” You mumbled tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and waiting, but before he could even turn around to you, you were fast asleep on the couch.

He sighed, shaking his head and smiling again to himself.

[mariasont]

not sure if you’re planning to write this, but smut with spencer & bimbo!receptionist!reader would probably fix my problems 😔 i feel like spencer would be praising her nonstop, while also being condescending & i fucking live for that‼️

Undo You - S.R

a/n: i love ur mind anon 😚 i hope this lives up to what you want 🫶🏼🫶🏼✨ thank you for requesting xoxo

anyway i kinda think this is bad bc i didn’t proofread but whatever ill prob go back and edit laters!

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: bimbo reader and spencer doing the nasty

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, degrading? (not really), spencer being slightly condescending, p in v, unprotected sex (BE BETTER!), creampie (STOP I HATE IT TOO BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL IT?!?!?! TWINKIE?!?!)

wc: 1.3k

Mustering the courage to ask you out was a feat in itself but getting you into his bed was a whole other ballgame. But here you were, fingers roaming through his hair and tracing the contours of his back. You were perfect, and you were in his bed.

The wasn't the first, nor would it be the last if he had anything to do with it. It's hard to fathom his good luck--to have you, breathtaking in every sense, under him, your fingertips gently grazing his waist band as you inch towards his cock.

Your makeup was almost artfully messy, with mascara delicately pooled beneath your lashes, rendering you devastatingly tempting. You had glittering eyeshadow on, and it was getting everywhere. Spencer felt the urge to undo you--to disrupt the pristine image you presented to the world, to make you uniquely his. Selfish? Without a doubt. But that didn't diminish the idea. 

Your hands, with their perfect manicure, were now wrapped around his cock, tugging and pulling as if your palms were sculpted precisely for this purpose. 

You were saying something, your lips a mesmerizing motion as he grasped the sheets beside you, each fistful a concerted effort to remain control.

"What, angel?" He was trying to be patient with you.

You talked a lot in general, but in bed, it only seemed to amplify. This was not a bad thing, not in his eyes, no, it was almost too much of a good thing. Each time your mouth opened and closed with another airy comment he found himself that much closer to spilling his load all over you.

"Your face is really red," you breathed out, nostrils flaring slightly, your eyes averted, engrossed in the sight of his length enclosed between your hands.

He stifled a laugh, resisting the urge to shove his cock into that pretty mouth of yours.

"Well, you see," Spencer starts, pausing as your hand presses to the tip of his length, "when someone is excited...or aroused, blood flow increases to the f-face, causing...vasodilation. It's... it's a sympathetic nervous system response."

"Oh, like when you get all red after running?" You tilt your head in that curious way of yours, your actions uninterrupted as words flowed from you.

"Yes, exactly like that."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you off of him and pressing that same hand to the mattress below him.

"And just like my face gets red, your pupils dilate when you're excited," Spencer explains, his hand poised just above your collarbone, sketching paths on your skin, "It's due to the release of norepinephrine, which is part of your body's fight of flight response."

Your lips were parted, pressing your body into him like you couldn't help yourself, hips squirming under his.

"So, what's the verdict, sweet girl?" Spencer asks, watching your gaze met his, lips parting as he dragged a hand over your clothed heat. "What's your body telling you? Fight of flight?"

You kissed him, gasping into his mouth as he pushed a finger into you. You were drenched. "Is submit an option?"

"That's my girl," he said, feeling his cock tighten even more, as if that were possible, almost moaning at the sight of your dimple being drawn out.

You whined, arching your back against the navy-blue sheets as your hands locked around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. He could smell everything about you from here—your coconut shampoo, your vanilla perfume, your lavender lotion. He wanted to inhale it, to inhale you.

He didn't even bother with your skirt, simply pulling your panties out from under it and lining himself up with your entrance. He watched, enthralled, as your chest rose and fell, holding your breath as you braced for his cock. You were so good for him, too good for him.

One hand clasped against your hip as the other guided his length into you, hissing as you tightened around him. It was a feeling that could never get old, like he was being reborn, like the world was ending and you and him were the only two people left. He would be fine with that.

Your face twisted up in pleasure as you began to rock against him, not giving yourself that chance to adjust. You did this often and it caused him to push down on your hips, stopping your movements. He could come if you kept doing that. He would.

"Patience," he hissed, but you were never one that was good with following orders.

You moved again, tits bouncing up and down your chest as you did. He stifled a groan, meeting your movements with thrusts of his own.

He imagined this is what Buddhists meant when they referred to finding the garden of Nirvana. This was it for him. The ultimate state of liberation and profound peace.

You were a blubbering mess, fingertips clawing down his back, surely to leave marks, but he couldn’t care less.

“Look at you,” he cooed, rutting his cock in and out of you. “You’re awfully quiet. Got something on your mind, baby?”

“N-No,” you stammered, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms went around his neck, clinging to him like a koala, your moans now pressed up against his ear.

“I figured as much.”

Your tits were flush against his chest, his breath stalling as he reached in the limited space between you, thumb circling your clit. Your whines intensified, just as his thrusts did.

“Spencer, please, yes, oh fuck—,” you paused, a gasp releasing from your lips as he felt you unravel on his cock, your wet cunt clenching around him in a way that made his legs shake.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.” His movements were more desperate now, sloppily slamming into you without mercy. “You’re so fucking good, baby.”

He barely recognized your lips against his ear. “Will you come inside me please?”

That was all it took, those simple words, brushing against his skin and rushing all the way down to his cock. His thrusts slowing as he pumped himself inside you, the sound completely obscene, but it just made him enjoy it that much more.

You were limp against the bed, and Spencer was quick to follow, face finding the crook of his neck as he tried his best not to crush you with his weight.

He could feel your pulse against his lips, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses into your honey induced skin as he waited for you to return back to planet Earth.

He was well aware of the drill, pressing one last kiss to your sweaty forehead before prying himself out of your hands and making a beeline for the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and a glass of water before coming back to the bed, nearly fainting at your tired smile shining at him, at him.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“I really love when you call me that,” you said, almost dreamily as you pushed your tousled hair into the pillow.

He laughed, placing the water on the table and moving your legs so he was between them.

“Gorgeous,” he repeated as he dabbed the towel to your sex, cleaning the mess he made on you. “Do I not call you that enough? Because I can certainly make it a more regular occurrence.”

“Well, I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” you said, giggling as you flinched away from the pressure on your clit.

He pushed your leg down, preventing you from squirming. “Let me clean you up.”

You pouted, and he had the sudden urge to bite your bottom lip. You gave him a salute, giggling before you could even get the words out. “Aye, aye captain.”

He tossed the towel to the side, climbing up your legs as he kissed you, soft and slow, murmuring into your lips, “come here, smart ass.”

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf

[lemonlover1110]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: You want to catch your husband in the act.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You always wake up to a fresh bouquet of flowers by your side, no matter the day. It’s a sweet gesture that always starts your day off on the right note. It’s been happening since you got married, though Sukuna claims he’s not doing it.

But who else would give you flowers if not Sukuna? He’d kill anyone just for looking at you, anyone leaving flowers next to you each morning is asking for a death sentence. What truly makes you curious is if Sukuna handpicks the flowers himself or if he orders someone to do it. You giggle at the mere thought of your giant husband hand picking flowers for you. 

You have the perfect plan, and you execute it. You wake up just as Sukuna does, sneakily following behind him as he starts off his day. 

He wakes up just as the sun rises, and immediately goes to eat the breakfast that’s hot and fresh for him. Sukuna loves to eat his meals with you so much so that in the beginning of your relationship he’d force you to wake up to eat with him. Now, he gives you the grace to wake up at whatever time you want.

After a long fulfilling breakfast, he stands up and heads outside which makes your excitement grow. You try to be like his shadow, and even though you make some noise it appears to be working. He hasn’t noticed you yet at least, and Sukuna seems to notice everything. 

He’s walking to the garden, and you’re grinning. He really does pick the flowers for you, a sweet gesture that he wouldn’t do for anybody else. You want to watch him pick them, decide which flowers are the most suitable for his wife but you know you have to go back before he catches you. You think you’re safe– Until he stops in his tracks, and glares at you. 

“I heard an annoying bug flying around.” He comments, and you purse your lips together. He has such a way with words, it’s definitely why you got married. He steps toward you, looking down at you in disappointment, “I told you I don’t pick the damn flowers.”

“Because you certainly would allow someone else to give flowers to your wife.” You point out, and he sighs. He can’t argue with that… Well he can, he’ll decide not to. “Guess I’ll go back to bed and wait for my secret admirer to show up then. I’ll wait for him, then ask him to marry me because he loves me so–”

“I’ll kill him.” He can’t even listen to the end of the sentence. “Fine, it’s me. I wake you up with flowers, happy?”

“Very.” You smile at him, wrapping your arms around him. He hugs you back, kissing the top of your head.

“You better not brag about this. Can’t have anyone think less of me.” He tells you, picking you up and bringing you with him so you can pick your own bouquet this time around. 

You have to admit, it’s hilarious to watch him pick something so small with his giant hands, but your heart mostly flutters. Sukuna loves you enough to personally pick up flowers for you each and every morning.

“Stop staring at me.” He orders, but that goes one ear in, out the other.

“You’re so cute.” He hates that word, especially when it’s referring to him, but he can’t really argue with you.

“Call me cute one more time, and I’ll stop.” He warns you, and you chuckle. He rolls his eyes hearing your laugh, since it isn’t a joke to him. He knows it isn’t true, and you know too which is why you don’t protest at his warning.

No matter what you do, he won’t change his morning routine.

[luveline]

I was just rereading your marauders sex shop blurb. I love how the boys have just adopted reader into their group, and how open they are with their affection for her. You do such a wonderful job of writing intimacy that rides the line between platonic and romantic. And I love the readers inter monologue of wondering if that intimacy means something more romantic like she wishes. It’s wonderful! I was also wondering if there’s a blurb on how the boys met reader for the first time?

thank you so much, that’s so nice of you <3 there wasn’t one but I hope this is okay!! —Remus, Sirius and James move into their new flat. You’re helpful. fem, 1k

The stairwell is filled with the sounds of kissing. Remus frowns, heart beating quickly, arms aching under the weight of yet another box. He gets to the top of the stairs and peeks around the box’s sides. 

Sitting on the step of their new doorway is James. And, sitting on top of James, stroking his cheek, is Sirius. His hair is falling all over the place and they’re kissing so much Remus assumes they’ll have bruised noses. They often turn their kisses into a fight, like one of them can win, though it never really ends that way. He wants to laugh as Sirius pushes James down for more kissing, and he sort of wants to watch regardless because they’re both good kissers and he’d quite like to be included, but mostly he needs the heavy box put away. 

“Someone please help me,” Remus says. 

James breaks away. Sirius squeezes his face and begins to kiss his neck. 

“Baby,” James says as he pushes him away, which is funny, unlike him and unlike Sirius to be called it, but also not actually unlike either of them when Remus really thinks about it. 

Sirius gives a last peck and pulls away. When he gets up to look at Remus properly he’s flushed all over from the activity, his neck and face turning red in splotches. 

Sirius and James have spent a lot of time spoiling Remus into love. He would’ve ended up there regardless, but he’s used to being the centre of attention. It was nice to see them kissing, and he wishes he didn’t interrupt quickly, but neither party seems to begrudge him. Sirius stands up and James is a second behind him, taking the heavy box from Remus’ arms before it can topple to the floor. 

“We’re on break,” James says with a grin. “Especially you.” 

“We have to take the van back tonight, in case you forgot. There’s still half our stuff in there.” 

“If we have to pay their fine, it’s fine,” James says, shifting the box against his chest. “I’d much rather pay the extra day than have us all hurt ourselves. How will we ever test the big bed if poor Remus can’t move?” 

“Poor Remus,” Sirius says, taking Remus’ hand to play with his fingers. 

This is pretty much everything Remus has ever wanted. To get to keep his two best friends forever, to be in love, to live together in a new city with good food and better cinemas. And here, nobody knows them. Nobody to judge them or give them strange looks. They can just be together like they’ve always wanted to be. 

Remus leans down to put his face against Sirius’ chest, their hands still held, Sirius’ free arm wrapping around him loosely. 

“Tired?” Sirius asks. 

James reluctantly leaves for the kitchen to put down their heavy box. 

“No. We really need to empty the van.”

“We will.” Sirius drops his nose against Remus’ hair. “Cliche if I kiss you?” 

“I like cliches.” 

Sirius puts his lips to Remus temple. Barely a kiss, no movement nor sound, but Remus knows it counts. It’s about intention. 

“Would you like a rough one?” Sirius asks quietly. 

“Maybe later.” 

“Please, let me give you one,” he says. 

“And have you press me into the floor? I don’t think so.” 

Sirius tips Remus’ head up and presses a kiss to Remus’ Cupid’s bow in an act of lifting his face, and then presses an equally gentle kiss to his lips. All this kissing… 

“I’m so happy we’ve moved,” Remus admits. 

Sirius squeezes his fingers, pulling away to meet charmed eyes. “All we need to do is find James a new team, and it’s perfect. Everything, finally.” 

“Hello?” someone calls. 

Sirius and Remus keep their hands held and shuffle across the hall to look down at the square. The flat building is strange, big and with an interior that’s an exterior, and you stand on the grass with a smile. 

“Hi!” you say, hands on your hips. You’re dressed for the strange weather, jeans and a t-shirt and a zip-up hoodie, entirely non-assuming. “Are you guys moving in?” 

“We are!” Remus says back. “You live here?” 

“My friend, I came to make sure her cat was okay, she’s gone to Ibiza. Do you need help?” 

“Oh, no, we couldn’t ask you to!” Remus says. 

“Sure you can!” 

You smile, and Remus thinks you look really lovely when you smile, it changes everything about your face. He feels guilty for the thought quickly, but it’s not as though being in a relationship means he can’t tell when girls are pretty. 

“Are you busy?” Sirius asks. 

You grin and make for the metal stairs up to the flat. 

Remus peeks at him in surprise, then suspicion, but Sirius only smiles at him. “We’re making friends already,” Sirius says, giving him a nudge. “That’s what we wanted.” 

James returns, having taken off his hoodie, a brown t-shirt loose on his frame. His own, then, because he insists on stealing from everybody’s wardrobes and stretching out their clothes. 

“Why are you guys shouting?” 

“Nice girl’s gonna come help us move.” 

James raises his eyebrows. 

‘Nice girl’ makes her way up the stairs. You’re still grinning when you get to the top, unperturbed by the appearance of another boy. “Hi,” you say, holding out your hand for an introduction. “I’m Y/N.” 

It’s the start of a long road. Remus shakes your hand and gets the sort of butterflies he’s terrified of now, though eventually Sirius and James will admit to the exact same thing, and no one will know what to do about it.

[dante-mightdie]

Omg Ive got another idea about the cult!au:

So simon now has this cute dumb wife who just won’t shut up about how weird stuff around her seem to be lately and she just keeps talking about wanting to see what would happen if they went out without price knowing, just out of pure curiosity yk? She constantly talks about hearing people outside, on the hills surrounding the little village they have, what could they possibly be? Maybe they’re monsters and not humans? But they seem so small and fragile just like the people in their own community 

And every time she mentions anything related to the topic simon is DEVASTATED, not because of his wife, but because of john. he knows that if his wife mentions anything like the stuff she blurts out when they’re alone price would straight up kill her and leave no proof of her ever existing before that, he’s seen it happen a few times with his own eyes

And when he remembers the terrified looks people had on their faces before being buried alive, just makes him nauseous cause he can’t imagine his wife’s beautiful face that scared.

But no matter what he does, she just won’t listen! If it was anyone else simon wouldn’t even hesitate to kill them with his own hands to show price his devotion, but it’s not anyone else, it’s his wife

So he decides to take matters into his into his own hands, he’s the one that has the keys to the gates after all

So he tells his precious little wife that he’s going to let her see the plains surrounding the village for an hour and if she liked it, they can just leave together :)

And the way his wife’s eyes just filled with excitement melted his heart, little did she know simon was going to make her want to stay

So maybe she sees something scary outside, and she runs as fast as she possibly can ,and just hugs simon with tears running down her eyes, saying that she was so stupid to think anywhere other than the warm community and her loving husband’s embrace would be safe for her

Maybe with a sprinkle of smut…? Just maybe! Just a silly little thought yk!!!

please grace us with your amazing writing, cause this cult!au is living in my mind rent free 😢🙏🙏🙏

hope you guys like the cult!au because it’s all you’re gonna be hearing for at least a few days. gonna call this version of simon ‘gatekeeper!ghost’

c/w: dark content, cult!au, gatekeeper!ghost, murder, manipulative tactics, implied mentions of pregnancy and children

your husband worries that you’re a little too oblivious sometimes. not truly understanding how the things you say and do could end in serious repercussions. perhaps you’re certain that if it truly came down to it, simon would defend you over anyone else. and to an extent, you’re right. however, that only applies when he’s actually there to protect you and if you think that price wouldn’t account for your guard dog husband when exacting out his revenge, you’re dead wrong

so he decides that he needs to help you see that. perhaps if you see with your own too eyes that the outside world is really just a pit of wolves waiting to feast on the soft flesh of his naive trusting wife, you’ll stop all this nonsense about the outside. so he decides to kill two birds with one stone by using a member of the community, who price had asked simon to get rid of anyway, to give you a fright

the man had been sowing discontent into the community for a while anyways. not pulling his weight with the mandatory community chores which everyone contributes too, apparently harbouring some resentful opinions towards key members of the community including himself and simon. it wasn’t long before price had enough of the disrespect and ordered simon to dispose of him and dump his body in the incinerato

simon decided to take a little detour with him first, though. leading him out past the gates before swiftly ending his life. he spends some time setting up a scene for you to stumble upon, making it appear as though this man was another member of the community who got too curious about the outside and had been mauled by some creature. whether you assume that creature is just a wild animal or something more sinister is irrelevant to simon, you won’t be seeing it anyway once he gets you back behind the gates. poor thing’ll be too frightened to ever wonder about the outside world again

your husband comes to collect you after hours once everyone in the community is asleep. you step out the gates with caution, as though the ground may not be walkable nor the air breathable. you soon relax once you realise the scenery and nature is not all that different to the community you were raised in your whole life. he hands you a map, one he edited to ensure you’d follow all the right paths to find the body and be back at the gates all in under 10 minutes

“back ‘ere. one hour. ‘m trusting you here, sweethear’, yeah?” your husband grumbles, zipping up your coat to protect you from the cold of the night but not before slipping a tracking device in lining. you look up at him, nodding along to every word he tells you about the paths, how to find your way back if you get lost, how if you’re not back in one hour to find somewhere safe and he will come and find you

gives you a firm kiss on the forehead before letting you go on your way, watching your form until it quickly disappears into the dark. the only thing visible of you is the slight glint of the torch he gave you. he looks down at his watch, he told you an hour but if you’re not back in 10 minutes then he knows you’ve strayed from the path he told you to go down

he counts down the minutes, softly whistling to himself as he leans on his rifle. 6 minutes was all it took for him to hear your bloodcurdling scream echo throughout the trees. he sets off, running until he eventually meets you halfway on the walk back. he feels guilty, don’t get it twisted but he’s doing it for your own good. doesn’t stop his heart breaking at the sight of you running towards him, hands reaching for him with tears streaming down your face

you throw yourself into him, sobbing into his chest as you struggle to get the words out about what you saw. as he predicted this outcome, his arms instinctively scoop you up after he slings his rifle round to rest against his back. let’s you cry to him about the awful thing you just saw whilst he carries you back towards the compound gates, cooing that you’re safe now and he’ll get you both home and safe

your home isn’t far from the gates which means your home after a short walk. you refuse to let simon leave your side, whining that you’re scared whatever got that man is gonna come and get you

“don’t be silly, lovie. they’d ’ave to get through me first.” he says, planting a kiss on top of your head whilst he strips you both down for bed. you just look up at him with a pouty lip, “I think you’re just getting too bored at home, aren’t ya, sweets? not much to keep ya busy when i’m not around. maybe some little troublemakers running about the ‘ouse will keep ya busy, yeah?”

[werecreature-addicted]

Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son

he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.

"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.

He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.

And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.

He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.

You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.

you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?

When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?

you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.

"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.

"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.

you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:

"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.

"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.

[moonstruckme]

request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other

Thanks for requesting!

cw: hospital, mention of surgery

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words

Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 

It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 

“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 

“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 

“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 

“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.

She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 

“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 

You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”

You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 

Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 

“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 

Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 

Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 

“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 

“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 

“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 

“I am,” he says. 

“But you’re so handsome.”

Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 

You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 

Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 

Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 

You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 

“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 

“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 

Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 

“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 

“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 

Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 

“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”

[luv-sims]

love affair.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

you return home for the summer, relieved to be away from university stress. you notice a handsome new neighbour moving in across the street, lee heeseung, moving in with his daughter, sumi. of course- you can only assume heeseung is married and avoid your growing attraction, spending your whole summer lusting over someone you have the hots for- not ideal.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ lee heeseung x fem reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings | lowercase intended, age gap (21 and 27), 18+, smut, smut, smut!! (18+ only.) mdni please!! idk if I’ll write 18+ content again bc it was so so hard to do, not edited^^

3.9k

the summer sun casted a warm glow over the suburban neighborhood as you pulled into your parents' driveway, the familiar sight bringing a sense of comfort and nostalgia. it was good to be home after a long, tiresome, hair-pulling semester at university.

you step out of your car and stretched out your limbs, relishing the feeling of being free from academic stress, and gross frat boys for at least for a few months.

as you grabbed your filled to the brim bags from the trunk, you notice a moving truck parked across the street. curiously, you found yourself glancing over and saw a tall, handsome man with big eyes, kinda resembling a deer, you think, directing the movers. he was absolutely striking, with dark hair that fell effortlessly across his forehead and a smile that seemed to light up his whole face. you couldn't help but stare, feeling your heart skipping a beat, he was probably one of the most attractive men you have seen in your 21 years of living.

"hey, y/n!" your mother called from the front door, breaking her reverie. "welcome home honey!"

"hi, mom!" you replied, tearing your gaze away from the new neighbor. you walked up the path, your mind still lingering on the man across the street.

inside, the familiar scent of your mother's cooking filled the air. you let out a relieved sigh as you quickly plopped your bags in the hallway and hugged her mother tightly as she let out a surprised gasp.

"it's so good to have you home," your mother said, beaming. "i've missed my little princess so much."

"i've missed you too mom," y/n replied, though still spaced out with thoughts still wandering to the man across the street, you hadn’t seen him around your small suburban area at all, if you had you know for a fact you would’ve remembered..

that evening, as you sat on the porch with your mom and dad catching up, you saw the man again. this time, he was accompanied by a little girl, who couldn't have been more than six years old. the girl was absolutely adorable, with a head full of curly hair and pigtails with a bright, infectious smile. y/n watched as the man scooped her up and spun her around,booping his nose with hers as her laughter echoing through the neighborhood.

"that's lee heeseung," your mother says, noticing your focused gaze. "he just moved in across the street. seems like a young nice man."

your mom says throwing you a knowing glance, with makes you roll your eyes in a playful annoyed manor.

the sight was a bit disappointing, don’t get me wrong- the little girl and her father just looked absolutely adorable, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little sad the man was taken with a family, and you were definitely not about to thirst over a married man that lives right across the road with a family.

you nodded at your mother’s words after a long pause, unable to take your eyes off him, though you felt a little guilt. there was something about heeseung that intrigued you, a magnetic force towards him that you couldn't quite explain as you’ve never felt anything like this before.

“y/n, are you listening?” your dad says snapping you out of your thoughts.

you sigh as you block heeseung out of your mind.

“yup.”

over the next few days, you found yourself watching heeseung and his daughter, sumi, from a distance. they seemed to have a very close bond, and you often saw them playing on their trampoline in their yard or walking hand-in-hand down the street to go get ice cream from the neighbourhoods convenience store. despite your curiosity, you felt a pang of guilt each and every time you looked their way. heeseung must be married, you reasoned with yourself. a man that handsome and good looking, with a beautiful replica daughter, surely had to have a stunning wife.

"good morning, neighbour.”

on one summer morning, as you were watering the plants in your front yard, as your mother had ordered and the sun shining on your bare back, probably leaving tan lines on your tank top straps, you heard a voice behind you. you felt goosebumps crawling up on your skin as you heard that familiar soft tone.

you turned to see heeseung standing at the edge of your driveway, a charming smile on his face. up close, he was even more attractive, with warm brown eyes and a chiseled jawline.

you stared him down like a hungry beast, but hey- it wasn’t your fault he decided to walk around in just a pair of sweatpants.

he had also been studying you for a while, his eyes stopping at your exposed neck as your hair had been tied back.

"good morning," you replied feeling extremely flustered, trying to keep your voice steady as it could possibly be.

"i'm lee heeseung," he said, extending a hand. "just moved in across the street."

you stared at his hand, it had looked very big compared to yours as he held it in his palm as you shook hands, the veins in his muscular hands bulging out making you want to scream, god- you were going absolutely crazy over a married man and it was not good.

"y/n," you replied, shaking his hand. his grip was firm, and you felt a jolt of electricity at his touch. "welcome to the neighbourhood heeseung!." you say in the cheeriest tone you can muster up- and you pray he doesn’t hear the nervousness in your voice.

"thanks," heeseung said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "i see you've noticed my little doppelgänger, sumi. she keeps me on my toes."

you laughed in complete and utter embarrassment. could this possibly get any worse? you think, there was no way in hell he had seen you basically watching him and sumi play everyday he had been here so far.

"she's adorable. you two seem very close, she’s too cute to not pay attention to!” you say trying to cover up your tracks.

"we are super close," heeseung replied, a hint of sadness flickering into his glossy bambi eyes. "it's just us two nowadays."

your heart ached at his words, and you felt a surge of empathy for him. "i'm sorry," you said softly.

it couldn’t have been easy, having an absent wife, you thought.

heeseung smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "it's okay. we're doing fine."

“well i hope you guys make up-“ before you can finish your sentence, you get cut off by the sound of sumi calling for her dad.

“sorry y/n, i’ll see you around! duty calls.”

he says before saluting you with a gentle smile which made your heart thump, leaving you with a warm feeling growing in your chest.

as the summer days flashed by, days turned into weeks, your and heeseung's paths crossed quite frequently. you exchanged pleasantries and shared small talk, each encounter laced with an undercurrent of tension that was almost impossible for you to ignore. you found herself drawn to him, your thoughts consumed by his smile, his laughter, and the way he interacted with sumi, so affectionate and loving.

despite your growing attraction, you kept your distance. you couldn't shake the feeling that your feelings for heeseung were wrong, given that he was likely married. you saw no sign of a woman around the house, but you had assumed his wife must be at work or away due to a fight, assuming heeseung’s last words about her.

one warm evening, as you sat onto your porch, lost in deep thought, heeseung approached you quietly. his expression was serious, and your heart began to race with nervousness and confusion, why was he here?

"y/n, can we talk?" he asked, his voice low and hesitant.

"sure," you replied, almost whispering. your mind racing with possibilities. has he had enough of your staring? or even worse- you’re making sumi uncomfortable-

you snap out of your thoughts as heeseung clears his throat, trying to gain your full attention.

heeseung sat down beside you, his gaze intense making you shiver in anticipation. "i've noticed you've been avoiding me," he said. "did i do something wrong?" he says with a hurt expression.

your heart sank. you hadn't meant to make him feel that way. "no, heeseung, it's not that. it's just.. nothing that concerns you.”

“it concerns me if you’re avoiding me y/n." heeseung asked, his eyes searching yours with furrowed brows.

you took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. "i feel something towards you, heeseung. i can’t help it even though i tried. but i know you're married, and i don't want to cause any more trouble for you and your wife- so please just forget about this." you ended with a pleading, embarrassed self.

heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, and then after 1 whole minute of silence, he burst out laughing. your cheeks burned with embarrassment, this is exactly what you were afraid of. what’s the worst that can happen people say? this.

heeseung notices your quiet demeanour and quiets himself down still smiling brightly. "married? i'm not married, y/n," heeseung said, still chuckling. "sumi's mother and i separated a long time ago. it's just me and sumi now."

your eyes widened in shook, your heart soared at his words, but you still felt a twinge of doubt. he has a daughter, and you’re a stranger. there’s no future for you two at all.

"but i see how happy you and sumi are. i don't want to get in the way of that, heeseung."

heeseung's expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand. "y/n, you could never get in the way. in fact, i'd love for you to be a part of our lives, haven’t you seen the way i’d been looking at you and talking to you the first few weeks we were here?”

a flustered smile fell on your face as you looked into heeseung's earnest gaze. "i was so afraid my feelings were wrong," you whispered.

"they're not wrong," heeseung said, his voice low and an unfamiliar tone. "i feel the same way about you, y/n. i've been drawn to you from the moment we met, and it took me this long to realize but i’m here now.”

your heart pounded in her chest as heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a heated-passion filled kiss. the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, their connection deepening with each passing second.

with the misunderstanding was finally cleared, your relationship with heeseung blossomed. you spent more time together, your bond growing stronger with each shared moment. heeseung's teasing nature and quick wit kept you on your toes, while your warmth and compassion brought more light into his life.

one bright afternoon, you found yourself at heeseung's house, helping him unpack the last of the moving boxes. sumi was playing in the backyard, her laughter a joyful melody in the background as you and heeseung shared kisses and hugs.

"thanks for helping me with this," heeseung said, wrapping his hands around your waist, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. "i don't know what i would have done without you."

you gave heeseung a warm smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "it's my pleasure hee. besides, it gives me an excuse to spend more time with you." you say wiggling your eyebrows.

heeseung grinned, his teasing tone returning. "oh, so you need an excuse now?"

your eyes rolled playfully. "you know what i mean."

as you both worked, the air between them was charged with an undeniable tension. every brush of your hands, every shared glance, seemed to ignite a spark that neither of you could ignore.

finally, as you finished unpacking, heeseung turned to you, his expression serious. "y/n, there's something i've been wanting to tell you."

you frowned at the serious tone and put your hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"what is it?"

heeseung took a deep breath, his gaze intense. "i haven't felt this way about anyone in a long time, ever since sumi’s mom left me, i’ve felt emotionally unavailable but then you- you make me feel alive, y/n. i want to be with you, and i want you to be a part of sumi's life too."

you felt tears brimming into your eyes as you reached out to cup his face in your hands. "i feel the same way, heeseung. i want to be with you, too."

your lips met in a passionate kiss, the world around them fading into the background. it was a kiss filled with promise and hope, a declaration for your shared future together.

you both quickly separated as you heard sumi’s little foot steps running inside. “daddy, can i please go over to yunah’s house for a bit! she has the new little mermaid movie on her tv!”

heeseung chuckled and pat her head, “go ahead baby, but i’m coming in 2 hours to get you okay?”

sumi squeaked excitedly as she hugged you and heeseung goodbye before running back to her friend.

“we should organize some more hee,” you say turning your back over to him as you felt something in the air shift.

you knew he was watching you, taking in your curve as the sundress you picked this morning just for heeseung hugged you body. the silence hung heavy between you as the air grew thick with anticipation.

heeseung approached you, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. your heart raced as he stopped just behind you, his presence filling the space between them with electric energy.

you felt his hands gentle on your waist, his touch sending a jolt through your body. he pulled you slowly towards him, your back pressing against his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted this," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear.

you visibly shuddered at his words, a tingling sensation spreading between your thighs. you knew the tension had been building for the both of you, and tonight you were done pretending it wasn’t there and ready to explore what had been simmering below the surface.

you turned your head slightly, your lips brushing his earlobe as you whispered back, "then take what you want, hee." it was an invitation, a challenge, and a surrender all at once.

heeseung's hands tightened on your waist, his fingers digging slightly into your soft flesh. he spun you around to face him, both your bodies now flush against each other. his eyes searched yours, a question hanging in the air, to which you responded by rising on your toes and capturing his plump lips with yours.

the kiss was fiery and passionate, your mouths moving urgently against each other. you could taste the sweetness of his strawberry flavoured chapstick you gifted him as your tongues danced together. you moaned into his mouth as you felt his hands moving down your body, cupping her ass and pulling you tightly against his growing boner.

breaking the kiss, heeseung trailed hot, wet kisses along your jawline and down your neck. "you have no idea how many times i've thought about doing this," he murmured, nipping at the sensitive skin of your shoulder. you let out a soft giggle, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling up within you.

"then show me," you challenged, your eyes sparkling with desire.

heeseung's responded by lifting you up and sitting you on the kitchen counter. he stood between your legs, your bodies still pressed intimately together. his hands found the hem of your dress and slowly began to slide it upward, his eyes never leaving yours.

“you wore this for me huh?” he says looking at you with his lust filled gaze as you shyly nodded.

“god- you’re so perfect-“ heeseung kisses you softly.

you raised your arms, allowing him to lift the dress over your head, leaving you bare before him except for a lace thong. his eyes devoured you, taking in the swell of your breasts, the beauty marks on your body, and the curves of your hips.

"you're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire.

you smiled, feeling confident and powerful under his intense gaze. "touch me," you commanded, your voice low and desperate for anything at this point.

heeseung needed no further encouragement. his hands found your breasts, palms brushing against the sensitive peaks as his thumbs gently massaged the soft flesh. you arched your back, a soft moan escaping your lips as pleasure began to coil within you.

his hands continued their exploration, tracing a path down your body until they reached the thin strip of lace hiding your most intimate place. he hooked his fingers into the fabric, slowly pulling it down your legs, his eyes fixed on the treasure that was now revealed to him.

you felt your breath quicken as you felt the cool air against your wet center. you watched as heeseung's fingers gently parted your folds, his eyes darkening with desire as he saw the proof of your arousal. he leaned forward, his tongue snaking out to taste you, and moaned as your flavors exploded on his taste buds.

he ate you out slowly, his tongue tracing lazy patterns on your clit as he savored your sweetness. you gripped his shoulders, your head falling back as waves of pleasure crashed over you. you could feel your orgasm building, a coil of tension in your lower belly, and you knew you were close.

heeseung sensed it too, his tongue flicking faster, his breath hot against your sensitive bud. you cried out, your body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you boneless and sated.

but heeseung wasn't done. he stood, removing his shirt and kicking off his shoes. you watched, your breath catching in your throat as he unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants and boxers down his legs, freeing his hard dick.

he returned to stand between your legs, his length pressing against her wet center. you whimpered, needing him inside you. heeseung teased you with a smirk on his face, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, collecting your juices, before slowly pushing inside.

you gasped at the sensation of being stretched and filled. heeseung paused,

“are you good, i can pull out if you-“

“no-no, please just move” you whisper against his lips as he leans down to kiss you.

allowing you a moment to adjust to his size, he starts beginning to move as he clasps his hands with yours. he thrust slowly at first, building a steady rhythm as he pushed in and out of you throwing his head back.

your eyes locked, each lost in the pleasure of the other. you met his thrusts, your hips rising to greet each drive, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. you could feel the same tension building in you as you clawed at his back, heeseung's thrusts became much more harder and faster as you let out squeaks.

"cum for me," he groaned, his voice hoarse as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

you cried out as the orgasm swept through you, your body shaking uncontrollably as she clenched around him. heeseung thrust a few more times before grunting, his release spurting hotly inside you.”

as both your breathing slowed, heeseung leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked forehead. "that was..." he started, searching for words.

"incredible," you finished, a lazy smile on your face as you cuddled him closer.

heeseung chuckled, a satisfied smile on his lips. "i think we can safely say we've moved past the tension."

you laughed, snuggling closer to him.

"definitely. but i have a feeling this is just the beginning."

despite your growing love, you and heeseung faced a problem that troubled your relationship. sumi, though fond of you, struggled with the idea of her father being with someone new. it took time and patience, but gradually, sumi began to warm up to the idea of you being a part of their family.

one evening, as you and heeseung sat together on the porch, heeseung wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "i know it's been a bit tough," he said softly. "but i can't imagine my life without you now."

you smiled at his words, resting your head on his shoulder. "we'll get through it together. as long as we're honest with each other, we can handle anything."

your bond with heeseung grew stronger with each passing day, your love deepening as you navigated the ups and downs of your relationship. you faced misunderstandings and doubts, but your commitment to each other never wavered.

as the summer came to an end, you found yourself so deeply in love with heeseung.

the fact you had to be gone for another year before you could settle down back with heeseung broke your heart.

“hey, you okay?” heeseung said breaking you out of your thoughts, wrapping his arms around your body staring at you from the mirror.

you found your eyes welling up with tears as heeseung frowned, he left soft gentle kisses on your neck trying to make you laugh.

“i’m okay hee.. just gonna miss you and sumi” you say softly as heeseung feels butterflies in his stomach.

he couldn’t believe he found you, somebody so loving and caring, and yet you still loved him even after learning he has a daughter.

he knows it’s a lot, especially for a 21 year old university student. but he knows you try your best, and that’s all he needs.

“we’re gonna be okay, you’ll be back in 6 months and we can be together again, okay?”

you turn around and nudge your nose against heeseung’s as he lets out a soft laugh.

“we’ll be okay.”

@luv-sims

[jarofstyles]

What about bf!harry gets hard in public and hes basically using you as a human shield and pulling you into his lap while subtly grinding into you🫣

This is a very fratrry thing to do once they get together tbh

Check out our Patreon!

Warnings- exhibitionism, don’t do stuff like this in public plz, filthy talk

——-

“You don’t know what this fuckin’ dress does to me.” With lips mouthing at her neck, she had to take a deep breath as his handsy palms ran over her stomach and tugged her closer to him. The conversations continued around them but as usual, he only had eyes for her. The obsession becoming unglued as his breath left chills on her skin.

“I think I have some idea. It’s against my ass.” She muttered lowly, taking a sip of some sort of lemon drop concoction which- ugh. Whoever was bartending at this party really shouldn’t give up their day job. “You’re like a feral dog sometimes. Just running around grinding your dick into me.” Her voice was kept down but it was hard not to push back into the slow rocking. The guise was he was moving with the music, but those jeans did nothing to shield her from the feeling of the thick length against her ass.

“So try n’tame me then.” He would really like that. The man had been nearly begging her to go to his room but she’d promised her friends she wouldn’t disappear too quickly. Harry was demanding of her time since they’d gotten together, clingy and slightly annoying but she liked to make him work for it a little bit. For a man who had been slutting it around with whoever he wanted- his words, not hers though it did seem like something she’d said- it felt really nice to know she he liked her that much.

“You’d like it too much.” She sighed, tightening her grip on the red solo cup as teeth nipped over her throat. He was borderline obnoxious with the PDA, but Harry really had no sense of shame when it came to that. Her fingers made the cup crinkle, a betrayal from a longtime friend as it exposed just how much it actually got to her. “Can you behave? For one night?”

“Mmmm… nope.” He sighed against her skin. “M’gonna be annoying and hope you stop caring what other people want so you can come upstairs like you really want to do.” Thankfully he kept his voice down as his hand rubbed over her tummy, exhaling a sigh. “I can’t wait until I get you alone and I get t’bury myself in that tight little cunt. Nice n’snug for me, and I’ll make sure you can feel it in this cute belly.”

Harry knew he had a hold on her that she didn’t let a lot of people see, feeling her neck heat up against his lips as she said his voice in a low warning that she mean absolutely none of. “Harry. Stop it. People are around.”

“And that does nothing but get you to soak those panties. Is it the nasty little thong today? The one you left for me t’wrap around my dick when you went home for the weekend?” He hummed. “Got them nice and sticky. T’be honest, if you’d let me I’d take you over into the corner, nudge your dress up and fuck you just like this.” He kept his hands where they were but his cock rubbed over her ass, giving him some friction. She could feel it throb against her, the lump in her throat thick as he continued to talk. His filthy mouth never did know where or when to quit.

“If you’d let me I’d have you walkin’ upstairs with my load down your thighs. Or your cum all over my fingers. I’d give you anything you’d let me have, honestly. And if you think I can’t tell you’re clenching those incredible thighs together, that I don’t know you’re slick between them and probably makin’ a fucking sloppy messy on your skin, you should think again. I know how much you love when I touch you. Like to growl at me like a little kitten but your body can’t hide from me.”

Y/N couldn’t deny it even if she wanted to. Clenching her jaw she fought the flush working its way over her chest, heat flooding her body as he finally moved a hand from her stomach to turn her face so he could catch her lips.

The lack of shyness from the man had him kissing her deep, unashamed of the wolf whistles and groans from his friends as he kissed her like he owned her mouth. She was reminded of it as his tongue brushed against hers and his thick fingers held her chin in place so he could kiss her how he wanted. He did- god, he really fucking did.

“Get a room!”

Harry broke the kiss with a wicked grin. “Don’t mind if we do.”

[sunny44]

You have to share

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Mom!wife!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: your son thinks that Max needs to share.

I was at home, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility after a long and victorious Formula 1 season. Sitting on the living room sofa, I watched Oliver playing with his toy cars on the rug. At that moment, I caught myself thinking about how big he had gotten and how quickly time had passed. It seemed like yesterday that Y/n told me she was pregnant, and we were at the hospital watching him being born. Now he was already four years old, and I was thinking about talking to her and seeing what she thought about trying for another one.

"Daddy, can you come play with me?" Oliver asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.

"Of course, champ." I replied, smiling as I got up to sit with him on the rug.

I sat next to Oliver, picking up one of the cars. We started an improvised race, Oliver's laughter filling the room and making me laugh along with him.

Of course, he made me be myself, and he was Uncle Lando.

After a few minutes, Oliver suddenly stopped and looked at me seriously.

"Daddy, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, what's up?" I asked, surprised by the sudden change in tone.

"Why do you win all the championships? Don't you think it's a bit selfish not to share with the other drivers?"

I admit I was extremely surprised by the question. I had never thought that Oliver could see it that way.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because Mommy always says we can't be selfish, that we have to share and we can’t have everything just because we want to. But you always have the victories, and that's not fair.” he said simply, and I understood his analogy about selfishness.

"Look, Oliver, I love what I do. I love racing, and I love winning. It's something I've worked for my whole life.” I began, trying to explain.

"But, Daddy," Oliver interrupted, "if you win everything, the other drivers never get a chance to feel what it's like to be a champion. They must be really sad."

I was silent for a moment, considering my son's words. I had never thought of my victories that way, obviously, because that's not how the sport works, but I also had never thought of explaining it to him so he wouldn't think I or any other driver was selfish for winning.

"I understand what you're saying," I told him. "But Formula 1 is a competitive sport. All the drivers train hard and want to win; there's no rule that says each driver has to win once. When I win, it's because I worked hard for it. And I know the other drivers also work really hard, and when their time comes, they will win too."

Oliver frowned, thinking.

"But wouldn't it be fairer if you let the others win sometimes? That way, everyone would be happy." I smiled at him, proud that he thought that way.

"You know, Oliver, the joy of winning comes from effort and dedication. If I just let the others win, it wouldn't be fair to them either. They want to win honestly, knowing they were the best that day and not because someone let them win."

Oliver nodded slowly, understanding.

"So you win because you're the best? And they also want to win because that shows they're the best?"

"Exactly," I replied, satisfied with his understanding. "And that's what makes victory so special. Each driver has their victories, their achievements. And we all respect each other for that."

Oliver smiled, now more relieved.

"So, when I grow up and race for real, I'll train really hard to beat you!" I laughed, hugging my son.

"That's right, champ. And when that day comes, I'll be very proud of you."

After that, we continued playing with the toy cars, and about half an hour later, my wife walked through the door with her bag and a pizza box.

"Hi, my loves," she said, closing the door, and I was immediately abandoned.

"Mommy!" Oliver shouted, running to her, and she hugged him, picking him up.

"What are my two favorite boys doing?"

"We're playing Formula 1," he said excitedly, and she gave me a peck on the lips.

"Hmmm, sounds fun."

"Do you want to play with us?" He gave her those big blue puppy eyes. Y/n knows how to resist, but he always wins me over with them.

"I would love to, but I'm starving and really craving that pizza."

"You brought pizza?" he asked, excited.

"Yes, I did."

"Then what are we waiting for?" he said, starting to squirm in her arms to be put down. "I'm going to wash my hands."

And with that, he ran to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes alone with her.

"How are you?" I asked, hugging her waist as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Tired but good, counting the days until vacation." She kissed me again.

"Oliver asked me today if I didn't think it was selfish of me to win all the championships and not let the other drivers win too." She started laughing at that.

"Where did he get that from?" she asked, going to set up the pizza for us to eat.

"He asked because he thought it was unfair for me to win everything and because he thought the other drivers would be sad."

"Ugh, he's so cute," she said, and I agreed. "I miss when he was a baby."

"About that," then she looked at me, "I was thinking about having another one."

"Do you want another kid?"

"Yes, don't you?"

"I do, actually, I just didn't know if you wanted to."

"I would love to have another four," she laughed.

"That's not going to happen. If it were you giving birth, I'd agree, but since it's not," just then Oliver came in and sat in his chair, and I served him a slice of pizza and a glass of juice.

“Hmm I love pizza.” He said with his mouth all covered with sauce making us laugh.

After we had dinner as a family we all went to bed to watch a movie together.

Bonus scene!

Y/nverstappen instagram stories

“Daddy and Oli time. And yes, he looks exactly like his father, I was just carrying him for 9 months.”

[peachpitfics]

Endgame

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Six years after you were married off to your Father's friend, you enter a period of mourning. As soon as it is societally acceptable, Benedict Bridgerton is in your foyer with a bouquet of flowers, amending a mistake he made all those years ago.

Length: 3.8k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Death, mentions of sex work, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm.

a/n: This is part iii to Wildest Dreams & Loml, requested by anon here! This is the final part!

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Your father stood acrost from you, tears in his eyes, which seemed genuine, though they did leave you confused. He was more devastated by your elderly husband’s death than you were – they had been friends a very many years, even with an age gap between them. It was six years since you were married to Lord Roger Howard, six of the most gruelling years of your life, pretending to care remotely for such a wretched man.

“I apologise for this display” Father wiped his tears from his eyes.

“Fret not, he was your friend after all” You replied nonchalantly, your father never caring enough to pay attention to your words, let alone the tone of your voice. He nodded sadly, blowing his nose in his handkerchief and stuffing it back into the waistcoat pocket.

“Your mother is thrilled at the prospect of you coming home” He asserted.

The shock of his audacity displayed in full force upon your face, “This is my home, I will not be returning to your house in Mayfair. I have an estate to care for until its heir comes of age” You shot back at him, far surer and more confident in your own voice than you had been when he bullied you into a match you did not want.

His weepy eyes filled with exasperation, you were not sure anyone had ever spoken back to him in such a manner, it sure looked as though they hadn’t. He stuttered over jumbled consonants, words unforming as they bowled out of his mouth. Never in your young life had you seen your father so beside himself, so baffled.

“Is there something you wish to say?” You asked brashly.

Stern eyebrows grew rigid over his unpredictable eye line, “How disrespectful! I do not recall raising a child with such an attitude! You will do as your father tells you, and your father demands you return to Mayfair” He almost shouted, the corrosive tone of his voice scared you as a child, even just a few years ago; but he had set you on a journey down Dante’s nine rings of hell. No longer afraid of small men feigning omnipotence in comparison to you, your father was no better nor worse than the husband you had just lost.

Your harsh statuette figure remained still and unblinking, unimpressed by his temper tantrum. Sweat formed on his brow line, rage simmering just below the surface. He was a volcano, ready to erupt in exaggerated self-importance. “It is obvious to me that perhaps you are confused. I was married to Lord Howard; I am Dowager Lady Howard. I do not belong to you, nor am I required to hear this nonsense any longer. I have land, and staff to account for. I will be remaining here. Would you like me to escort you out?” You asked calmly, your heart thumping in your chest, prepared for his next outrageous onslaught.

Father shuffled on the spot, puffed-up and fragile, dancing between continuing this argument, or storming out of the room. With a defeated, heavy exhale, he turned swiftly on the ball of his foot and stomped down the stairs. Staff peered around corners, having heard the yelling, worried for your safety.

Making your way out to the landing, subtly triumphant smile on your face, you watched as your father barged past someone standing in the foyer. You could not believe your eyes, unsure now of whether this was a dream or not. Benedict Bridgerton stood tall in the foyer, a big bunch of flowers in his arms, side eying your father as he passed. He looked just like you remembered, just like you imagined him every day since you last saw him. His eyebrows high, his crowning glory, that cheeky smile adorned on his face. There were small changes, delicious smile lines around his mouth and across his forehead. He looked neat, and very well dressed – you thought perhaps he finally had taken some advice from Anthony. The door slammed violently, and Benedict jumped slightly, pursing his lips together in a look of amusement.

“Mr Bridgerton, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” You hummed in soft interrogation.

“I have come to offer my condolences” Benedict tried to wipe the smile from his face.

“Alas, it has been six whole months since my husband passed away. Would you not consider these condolences to be quite late?” You retorted audaciously.

“One… might consider my visit late, yes. However, I do believe I am right on time. I would like to point out that it is but seven hours into a societally acceptable visit for a single man to call on a widow” He feigned checking his pocket watch, nearly dropping the bouquet on the floor, beaming at you as you started descending the stairs. Rushing down the stairs with enthusiasm, you threw yourself into his arms, flowers crushed between your bodies as your kiss landed. There was that sense of delirium you had missed so dearly. Your stomach dropped excitedly, your heart skipped a beat, your smile uncontainable as he pulled you into him tighter and tighter.

“Worried I would not come?” He asked between kisses, his eyes joyously lit.

“Not one bit” You groaned as his teeth took your lip, sucking it into his mouth, “Come upstairs”.

Benedict took your hand in his, leading you to the only place he knew well in this house, your bedroom. It was strange feeling this way after so long, so much glee in such a solemn house. You had not a care in the world at this moment, everything was finally right as it should have been.

Shutting the door forcefully, Benedict grasped at your arms and pulled you toward the bed, shifting behind you to undress you. Not a second later, Benedict gripped two sections of material and reefed them apart, tearing your dress from your body, his clamorous grunt igniting something within you. The fabric fell to the ground around you in a pool, embarrassment telling you to turn to Benedict, but his forceful hands stilled you where you were. Bending you forward, you rested your elbows onto the bed, the sound of his breeches unbuttoning behind you made your mouth water, wonderment tensing your mind.

Kneeling behind you, Benedict pressed his finger to your pussy, sliding it in as slowly as possible, coaxing soft moans from your lips. You so greatly wanted to spin around, eager to see what he was up to.

“God you are so wet and ready for me” Benedict commended, slipping that same finger between his lips, sucking the taste of you off it, moaning in unbridled thirst for you. Benedict’s hands snapped to your hips grasping at generous handfuls, reefing you back into him, running the tip of his cock along you.

He plunged into you without a moments notice, sinking to extremity unexpectedly. Gasping in wretched recognition as your body adjusted, his velvet skin sliding in and out of you, images flashed through your mind of all the times you had done this before. His large hands slid into the pocket between your belly and your hips, thumbs goading you back into him, savouring every thrust back into you. Benedict laced into your hair, firmly pulling you back to meet him, the starving kiss in his arsenal his best yet. That is what it had felt like, these last two years in particular – like surviving in a baron desert, aridity only quenched by a singular person, and that person being unattainable.

Benedict’s hardness sunk into you again and again, particularly rigid on this occasion, you did not recall him filling you quite this much, but every moment was felt like a spiritual experience. His thrusts became vigorous, and he had that look in his eye that you knew all too well, his efforts quickly moving toward fruition. His pelvis slammed into yours with the most gloriously barbaric force, his moans and grunts animating, pleasure absolutely carved throughout his body and face. The eagerness of his movements made you squeal out as he reached deeper places, you hips bounced back encouraging his release inside of you. Benedict’s hands constricted in place; his body unyielding as waves of intensity rolled through him.

Desperately trying to inhale deeper breaths, Benedict rolled onto the bed next to you, stretching out his arms as if he had a stitch in his chest. You giggled at him, lying down too.

“Not as young as you once were?” You chortled.

Benedict flashed you a look of sunny offense, “If I… could breathe… right now, you’d be paying… for that comment…” Benedict chuckled through his panting. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump against your hand, your eyes went wide with awe.

After catching his breath, you laid together in the bed for the rest of the day, slipping in and out of each other and conversation. Benedict was enjoying exploring your body again, as it had been two years and another child later.

“I cannot believe we are finally here” Benedict chuffed, his head resting on your navel, staring up at the ceiling.

“Six years later, my darling. To be fair, we did think we would be apart longer” You remarked.

Benedict paused, fingers circling your forearm wrapped over him, “Y/n… There are rumours circulating the Ton…” He uttered kindly, approaching with gentility.

“I suppose you should know what happened to Roger,” You sighed, more embarrassed for yourself than for the old codfish, “I received news six months previous, that Roger had passed at an establishment… during intercourse with a working woman” You pursed your lips together, trying not to laugh. This was the first time you had explained the situation out loud, to anyone at all. The hilarity was not lost on you, but it felt wrong for the widow to relish the death of her husband outwardly, no matter the kind of man he was.

Benedict was silent for a few more moments, his eyes squinting in reserve, white flashes of teeth peeking through his lips, trying his hardest not to burst into laughter. “At least, he died doing what he loved?” Benedict knew he could hold up the façade no longer, resigning to his impish personality, eliciting a perpetual and free laugh from you. You ruffled his hair merrily, giving playful shoves for saying something so outrageous.

“Perhaps so! It is difficult to explain to the children, not that he had much interest in them anyway. I am hoping they will adjust quickly; they are quite young still” You gave Benedict a gentle smile. You knew he had been waiting to bring up the children, only having seen them a handful of times over the last 5 years.

“When can I see them?” Benedict asked keenly.

“Their nanny took them for a walk in the gardens when I was informed my father was on the grounds… He is not particularly fond of them either” You shrugged, “They will surely be returning soon” You reached out to stroke Benedict’s face, his excitement uncontainable.

Benedict continued to talk about the children, taking guesses at their heights and how they walked. He asked about their favourite foods and favourite colours, he wanted to know everything. More than anything, he had wanted to be there to see them grow and change. He had spent their lives memorising details in letters, their descriptions and little personalities, so desperate to know them. Benedict was recently thrilled to learn that Benjamin had lost his very first tooth at just five years old. He was also filled with pride when you wrote of Beatrice climbing down the stairs for the first time, all be herself – she was three now and while Benedict felt like he had missed so much, he knew how much more there was to come, that he would get to be a part of.

“My apologies, I am just overjoyed to finally be here” Benedict’s eyes watered lightly.

“Do not apologise, they will be excited too, you know they love you” You smiled, wiping away his singular tear. You leant down to place a kiss on his forehead, which he intercepted, stealing yours lips away with his own, warm and full.

Benedict rolled onto his front, lifting your thigh over him and snuggling himself between your legs. His nose rested in your tangle of pubic hair, nudging gently at your slit. Without meaning to, you laid back in anticipatory relaxation, Benedict’s arms wrapping around your thighs.

“You are unreasonably delicious my love” Benedict moaned from between your thighs.

His fingers danced around your outer flesh, tickling and pleasing strokes slowly replaced by his tongue, wet and pleasantly heated. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your lung’s feeling collapse was just moments away. It had been so long, and you were well and truly voracious for him, you had thought about this every single day.

Writhing under his ministrations, Benedict gently lapped at your clitoris, hardly touching it at times. You whimpered in hopeless desperation as he teased and circled exactly where you wanted him to press. There was no doubt Benedict was a connoisseur at this fine art and you were thankful for it. His hands slid up under your behind, lifting you up and into his face, you gave a slight squeal at his strength. The smile in his eyes melted your core, watching the lower half of his face flex and move, buried in your pussy. With every flick of his tongue, every suck of his lips, you could not stop yourself from grinding back onto his face.

Your face strained, trying to conceal the loudest moans these walls would have heard, Benedict’s ravenous tongue lapping senselessly, your knees shaking either side of him. Every moan from Ben vibrated through you, your hand flew violently to the back of his head, demanding more and more of him. Sucking your clit between his lips insistently, his teeth grazing your sensitive nub, Benedict allowed you to orgasm. Your hips bucked against his face, the hot friction of his stubbled face a godly addition to your unleashing.

Remaining still, Benedict’s soft eyes peered up at you, taking in every moment of your completion, committing it all to memory. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that you were a transcendent idol, sent here only for him. His tongue dallied, sensually slipping between your lips a last few times before he released your thighs.

“God, I love it when you do that!” You almost yelled in exotic delight.

“You taste marvellous, truly otherworldly. I could spend the rest of my life tending to you like that” Benedict smiled widely, subtly licking around his mouth to take in the rest of you.

You remained on the flat of your back, drunk on your adoration of him, “I wish you would” You laughed, half joking. It occurred to the both of you at separate times, that there was no longer a need to rush, nor savour these moments. There was nothing to keep you apart any longer, no one to hide from.

~

Benedict suggested bathing before dinner, so you loosely dressed, calling for the housekeeper to fetch the ladies’ maids to sort some baths. Once the both of you were dressed and ready for dinner, you descended the stairs, you arm linked over his, his gentlemanly stature reinstated upon leaving the bedroom.

The children sat on the rug in the dining room, surrounded by the petals of the flowers Benedict had arrived with this morning. Benjamin looked up, playful excitement lighting his face as he noticed the two of you.

“Mama!” He exclaimed, running into your legs, wrapping his small arms around them.

“Good evening my boy” You hummed, bending down to swoop him up into your arms. Benjamin remembered Benedict from visits previously, but he had not been around in some time. He outstretched his tiny hand, offering a handshake to his father. His sweet little teeth biting into his bottom lip, the centre one missing.

“Are you going to be staying for tea?” He asked curiously, the way children do.

“Yes, my small friend, I am,” Benedict took his hand and shook it properly, “My name is Ben, I do not know if you remember me”.

“My name is Ben as well” Benjamin gasped in innocent surprise. Without thinking, you passed your five-year-old son over to his father as they continued to talk, Benedict instinctually taking him on his hip, just like he had Gregory and Hyacinth not all that long ago. You travelled across the room to Beatrice, who gathered handfuls of pink rose petals and threw them into the air above her head, clapping as they rained down upon her. You scooped your smallest child into your chest, meeting Benedict and Benjamin at the table, placing her in her little chair. Her dark curls framing her face in sweet disposition, she waved happily to the strange man at the table. As the staff served dinner, Benedict took his place at the head of the table, with encouragement from you. You could see joy filling him right to the brim, happiness pouring out of him without a hint of regret. This was what you had both worked for. The housekeeper stopped by you on her way back to the kitchen, gently pinching your cheeks just like a mother would, she had not seen you smile like this in such a long, long time.

                                                                ~

The family spent one week together at the estate before Benedict thought it was time to travel to Mayfair, to tell him family of this news. He was not sure how they would handle him marrying a widow, nowhere on his list of objectives was there a point to explain the children and why they looked like him. Benedict had slotted into their lives perfectly and without incident, the children already slipping and calling him father at times. His heart nearly beat right out of his chest with pride.

Arriving at the Bridgerton house, Benedict carried Bea on his hip from the carriage, entering to his family waiting in the entrance hall eagerly awaiting whatever the news in his letters could be.

The first thing Benedict noticed before he had even introduced his family, was his mothers all knowing smile, and the happiness reflected in her eyes.

“Family, this is Lady Y/n Howard, and we are to be married” Benedict announced loudly, a slight echoing ringing through the entrance hall. Anthony and Collins eyes bounced between Benedict and each other, confusion ruling their faces. Everyone else littered them with congratulatory hugs and kisses.

“And who are these darlings?” Violet came forward, kissing Benedict and reaching out to rub Beatrice’s small hands on his chest.

“This is Beatrice, and this young man is Benjamin” Benedict introduced his children to his mother, watching her crouch down to take Benjamins outstretched hand for a handshake.

“How gorgeous! What a fine gentleman” Violet’s smile was sunlight, her demeanour so utterly welcoming. Beatrice leaned out of Benedict’s arms, shuffling herself across to Violet’s chest, snuggling into her grandmother. The both of you knew then that Violet had caught on as she rocked gently from side to side, Beatrice fitting perfectly in her arms as all the Bridgerton babes had before.

“Please, come to the sitting room, I will fetch the tea” Hyacinth directed everybody up the stairs to the second floor. As you and Benedict were about to follow behind the children and the other Bridgerton siblings, Colin and Anthony sequestered your arms away to an adjacent room.

Anthony closed the double doors to the dining room, and benedict slid his hand into yours in solidarity. Colin circled the both of you like a shark in open water, his normally cheery face overrun with suspicion. Anthony frowned pensively in front of you, rubbing his face, well and truly confused.

“This is all happening rather fast, do you not think?” Anthony asked sceptically.

Benedict licked his lips in preparation, “Brother, you know I was in love with y/n all those years ago. We have simply reconnected since the very sad death of her late husband” Benedict portrayed the sympathetic friend, the shoulder to cry on in a time of need.

“I see, and your engagement taking in place exactly six months after the death of Lord Howard is simply a coincidence?” Anthony questioned, logical suspicion stirring up his role as caretaker of the family.

“Yes. Benedict was very considerate, giving me my time to grieve my husband before coming to visit and offer his condolences. It can be quite confronting when one is bombarded with flowers and well wishes all but a day after a loss” You lamented, doing your best to act your part, the sullen widow.

Anthony nodded, having experienced such a similar event after the death of their father Edmund, “I understand, I am glad that you have reconnected with each other after all these years… I do just have one more question, and I will only ask once. I do not wish to offend you, however if I found out either of you had anything to do with the death of Lord Howard, I –”  

“Lord Howard died in the bed of a prostitute” You blurted out, interrupting Anthony quite rudely. He was inferring the two of you had murdered Lord Howard for his estate and potentially as a crime of passion. That was not the case, your true secret seemed to be thoroughly unnoticed by the eldest brother.

Anthony and Colin stood side by side, their mouths gaping at the same time, blinking in uneasy embarrassment. There had been several rumours circulating the Ton regarding the death of Lord Howard, this was not the one they had expected to be true. Anthony snapped back to reality, shutting his mouth and nodding uncomfortably. He gestured toward the door, Benedict pulling you out of the room, heading for the stairs.

“It is strange… Those kids look a lot like Ben” Colin muttered to Anthony as they followed on behind you, not a far distance away. Benedict turned and met Anthony’s gaze in his peripheral as the whole thing dawned on the eldest Bridgerton boy. Dropping your hand, Benedict darted up the stairs, headed for the safety of his mother.

“Benedict, get back here!?” Anthony shouted, the vein in his forehead violently protruding, he stormed up the stairs after Ben.

Colin slipped into the space Benedict left, holding out his arm for you to take, “Come on, I’ll show you to the sitting room. They are going to be a while. At least you will not have to endure two dead husbands… Anthony’s going to kill him before he gets to the altar” Colin chuckled, your arm clinging to his as he escorted you up the stairs.

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