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X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

They accidentally hurt you (Part.1)

You're accidentally hurt during a moment of loss of control by your powerful partners

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wade Wilson, Warren Worthington III, Jean Grey & Rogue

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

It happened so fast you barely registered the pain. One minute you were training with Logan in the Danger Room, sparring as usual, the two of you enjoying the playful back-and-forth of dodging each other's hits. Logan was holding back, as he always did, but that wild intensity still gleamed in his eyes—a part of him that would never fully shut off. You loved that about him. But then, in a split second, something shifted. His movements were too fast, too fierce. Before you could react, his claws were out, and the sharp edge caught your arm.

You gasped as a searing pain shot through your body, clutching your arm as you stumbled back. Blood dripped down your skin, the deep cut immediately soaking through your sleeve. For a moment, Logan just stood there, wide-eyed, his breath caught in his throat. The claws retracted instantly, and you saw the horror in his face as he processed what he had done.

“Darlin’… oh God, no. I didn’t mean—” His voice was rough, like gravel, choked with disbelief and panic. He was on you in a second, dropping to his knees beside you and gently taking your arm in his hands, careful not to hurt you further. You winced at the touch, but the pain wasn’t what hurt most. It was the look on Logan’s face—like he had broken something irreplaceable between you.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky. “It was an accident.”

But Logan wasn’t hearing it. His hands trembled as he held your arm, his head lowered like he was ashamed to even look at you. “I should’ve been more careful. Damn it, Y/N. I never should’ve… I should’ve known better.”

You reached out with your free hand, cupping his rough, scruffy cheek to make him look at you. “Logan, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

But the guilt in his eyes didn’t fade. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into that place he went when he was ashamed of himself, afraid of losing control. But instead, he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as if drawing strength from you. “I can’t lose you, Y/N,” he muttered. “I can’t… I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

You smiled softly, despite the throbbing pain in your arm. “You won’t. I’m right here, Logan. Always.”

His eyes opened, and in them, you saw the raw vulnerability that he so rarely let anyone see. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you carefully, protectively. “I’ll fix this,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make it right.”

And in that moment, as you leaned into his embrace, you knew he would.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

It started as a typical night in the mansion—Remy was showing off as usual, flicking cards across the room with that charming grin of his, teasing you with sly winks. You sat on the couch, amused but unimpressed, knowing his routine far too well by now. But you loved watching him in his element, loved the way his eyes lit up with that mischievous energy whenever he was around you. It was intoxicating.

“Y’know, chérie, if you keep lookin’ at me like that, I might have to take you out for another round of cards.” His voice dripped with playful flirtation as he tossed another charged card into the air.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on the couch. “Remy, you know I always beat you.”

He laughed, and in that moment, he flicked his wrist to toss another card—except this time, something went wrong. Maybe he misjudged the charge, or maybe it was just bad luck, but the card shot towards you too fast, too charged, and before you could react, it exploded with a small burst of kinetic energy right in front of you.

The force knocked you off the couch, sending you tumbling onto the floor with a sharp yelp of pain. Your arm burned where the blast had hit, and you groaned as you tried to sit up, clutching the now-aching limb.

“Y/N!” Remy’s voice was filled with panic as he rushed to your side, dropping to his knees beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure where to touch, as if he was afraid of hurting you more. “Chérie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—God, I didn’t mean to do that.”

You winced, blinking back tears as you pressed a hand to your arm. “It’s okay, Remy… just a little burn. I’ll live.”

But Remy wasn’t having any of it. His normally cocky expression was gone, replaced with genuine worry as he gently helped you sit up. “Let me see,” he said softly, carefully pulling your hand away from the burn on your arm. His fingers were gentle as they inspected the damage, his eyes dark with regret. “Merde, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d never hurt you, you know that, right?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile despite the pain. “I know. It was an accident.”

But he still looked haunted, his jaw tight as he gingerly cradled your arm. “Still… I should’ve been more careful. Should’ve been payin’ more attention.”

You placed your other hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm. “Remy, really, I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping with relief, though the guilt still lingered in his eyes. “I don’t deserve you, chérie,” he muttered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re too good to me.”

You chuckled, wincing slightly at the movement. “You better believe it.”

But even as you tried to make light of it, Remy’s hands never left your skin, as if he needed to feel that you were still there, still with him. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what, he would always be there to protect you—even from himself.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

You had always loved watching Kurt move—the way he seemed to dance across the air, teleporting with ease, his body a blur of grace and power. You were training together, and though you weren’t nearly as agile as him, you tried your best to keep up, determined to prove that you could hold your own.

But then, in a blink, Kurt disappeared—teleporting just out of your reach as you swung your fist. You spun around, ready to block him when he reappeared, but you miscalculated, and before you could react, his tail whipped out, striking you in the ribs with more force than he intended.

The air was knocked out of you, and you stumbled back, clutching your side as pain radiated through your body. You gasped for breath, wincing as you sank to the ground, your chest heaving.

“Y/N!” Kurt’s voice was frantic, and in an instant, he was kneeling beside you, his golden eyes wide with panic. “Oh mein Gott, I didn’t mean—are you hurt?”

You couldn’t speak for a moment, too focused on catching your breath, but when you finally looked up at him, you saw the sheer horror on his face. He reached out, his hand trembling as he gently touched your side, where his tail had struck you. “I’m so sorry. I should have been more careful.”

You tried to smile, though the pain made it difficult. “It’s okay, Kurt. You didn’t mean to.”

His brow furrowed, his eyes filled with guilt as he gently helped you sit up. “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as you caught your breath. “I know. It was an accident. I’ll be fine.”

But Kurt shook his head, his tail curling around your waist in a protective gesture. “I should have been more gentle. I forget how strong I am sometimes.”

You chuckled softly, wincing at the pain in your ribs. “I think you forget that you’re not the only one with superpowers.”

He smiled weakly, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Ja, but I’m supposed to protect you. Not hurt you.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “You do protect me. Every day.”

Kurt’s golden eyes softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I will never let anything happen to you, Y/N. I swear it.”

And as you rested in his embrace, the pain in your ribs forgotten for the moment, you knew that no matter what, Kurt would always be there for you—his love for you stronger than any force in the world.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

The sun had just started to set, casting an orange glow across the grounds of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. You and Scott were outside, sparring as part of your usual training routine. Scott was always serious when it came to training, which you both admired and found frustrating at times. He had such control over his abilities, never letting his optic blasts get out of hand—except today, something was off. He was more intense than usual, perhaps trying to push you to your limits, or maybe his mind was somewhere else.

You dodged a series of his blasts, your body fluid and graceful as you maneuvered across the field. You were teasing him lightly, enjoying the way his focus made him that much more determined. “Come on, Summers, is that all you’ve got?” you called out, your smile playful, though your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge.

Scott’s jaw clenched in response, his visor glowing red as he prepared to shoot another blast. You saw the energy build in his eyes, felt the air shift around you. But something went wrong. The blast was too powerful, larger than any you’d seen him use in training, and before you could react, the beam struck you hard in the chest, sending you flying backward across the field.

The pain hit you instantly, searing through your body as you hit the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, clutching your chest, the world spinning around you as you tried to process what had just happened. You could barely breathe, the shock and pain overwhelming your senses.

“Y/N!” Scott’s voice was filled with panic, and within moments, he was by your side, falling to his knees as he reached for you. His visor dimmed as he tried to assess the damage, his hands hovering over your body, afraid to touch you in case he hurt you more. “I’m so sorry, I—God, I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

You tried to respond, but the words caught in your throat, a sharp pain running through your chest with every breath. Scott’s eyes were wild with fear behind his visor, his face pale as he gently touched your arm, his fingers trembling.

“I lost control,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You managed to shake your head, your breathing shallow as you tried to reassure him. “I know… it was an accident, Scott.”

But Scott wasn’t listening. His hands moved to your shoulders, carefully pulling you into his arms, cradling you as if you were made of glass. “I should have been more careful. I should have… I could have killed you.”

Tears stung at your eyes, both from the pain and from seeing him like this—so afraid, so broken. You reached up, placing a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “I’m okay,” you whispered, though the words came out weak. “I’m okay, Scott.”

But he shook his head, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he was afraid you would slip away from him. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t… I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

You smiled weakly, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. “You won’t. I’m still here.”

And as he held you close, his heart pounding with fear and love, you knew that Scott would never forgive himself for this, even though you already had. He would spend the rest of his life making sure you were safe, even if it meant holding back from the one thing he feared the most—losing control.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

The battlefield was chaos, metal flying through the air as Erik used his powers to dismantle the enemy’s weapons, tearing through their defenses with a fury that left you breathless. You fought alongside him, your movements sharp and precise as you took down opponent after opponent, the two of you moving like a well-oiled machine. But in the midst of the battle, something went wrong—something that neither of you saw coming.

Erik was focused, his hands outstretched as he bent the metal around him to his will. You were too close, though, too caught up in the fight to notice how close you had drifted to his range of control. Suddenly, a piece of sharp metal flew toward you, faster than you could react. It struck you in the side, tearing through your skin with a force that knocked you to the ground.

The pain was immediate, white-hot and searing through your body as you gasped for air, clutching your side where blood had already begun to pool. You tried to move, but the pain was too much, your vision blurring as you struggled to stay conscious.

“Y/N!” Erik’s voice cut through the noise of battle, filled with a panic you had never heard from him before. In an instant, the metal around you dropped to the ground as he rushed to your side, falling to his knees beside you. His hands hovered over the wound, his face pale as he tried to assess the damage. “Oh, no… no, no, no. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t see you.”

You groaned, the pain making it hard to focus as you looked up at him, his face twisted with guilt and fear. “Erik… I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though you knew it wasn’t true.

He shook his head, his hands pressing down gently on the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. “This is my fault,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “I should have been more careful. I never should have let you get this close.”

You winced, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “Erik… it was an accident.”

But he wasn’t hearing you. His eyes were dark with regret, his jaw clenched as he tried to control the rising panic in his chest. “No,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should have protected you.”

Tears stung at your eyes as you watched him, the man who had always been so strong, so sure of himself, now broken and afraid. You could see the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing you, of not being able to save you this time. “You did,” you whispered, your voice weak. “You always do.”

He shook his head again, his hands trembling as he continued to press against the wound, his heart pounding in his chest. “I won’t let you die,” he muttered, his voice filled with a desperation you had never heard from him before. “I won’t.”

And as you lay there in his arms, the pain slowly fading away as darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, you knew that Erik would move heaven and earth to save you. But in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, knowing that no matter what happened, you were loved.

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

You and Bobby had always been a team, whether it was on the battlefield or just in life. His easygoing nature balanced out your more serious demeanor, and together, you were unstoppable. Today was no different—you were fighting alongside the X-Men, taking down the latest threat to mutantkind with the precision of a well-practiced team.

But in the heat of battle, accidents happen. Bobby had just formed an ice slide, using it to send an opponent flying across the battlefield when he lost control for just a split second. The slide shifted, sending a sharp shard of ice flying toward you. You didn’t see it coming until it was too late.

The ice struck your leg, cutting deep into the muscle and sending you crashing to the ground with a cry of pain. The cold immediately numbed the area, but the pain was still there, sharp and unrelenting as you clutched your leg, trying to stop the bleeding.

Bobby’s heart stopped the moment he saw you fall. “Y/N!” He was at your side in an instant, his face pale with shock and guilt. His hands hovered over the wound, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. “I didn’t—God, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

You winced, trying to push through the pain as you looked up at him. “Bobby, it’s okay… just an accident.”

But Bobby wasn’t listening. His hands were shaking as he tried to freeze the wound, slowing the bleeding with his powers. “I should’ve been more careful,” he muttered, his voice thick with guilt. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You groaned, your leg throbbing as the ice numbed the pain. “Bobby, it’s fine. It’s not that bad.”

But Bobby wasn’t convinced. His blue eyes were filled with fear as he carefully wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. “I’m taking you back to the mansion,” he said firmly, his voice trembling slightly. “We’re getting you patched up.”

You didn’t argue, the pain too much for you to resist as you leaned into his embrace. “Okay,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest as he carried you away from the battlefield.

And as you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel the guilt radiating off of him, the fear that he had hurt you, even though you knew it was an accident. But in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, knowing that no matter what happened, Bobby would always be there to protect you.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

You’ve always known that being with Wade came with a certain level of risk. Sure, he was fun, witty, and had a charm that kept you laughing no matter what—but he was also chaotic, reckless, and had an unhealthy obsession with danger. You loved him for all of it. Even the crazy stunts that had your heart in your throat. But this time… things went too far.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Wade had assured you of that when he convinced you to join him. “Come on, babe, it’ll be a piece of cake,” he’d said with a grin. “Just a few bad guys, a few guns, and then we’re out. Easy peasy!”

Of course, nothing with Wade is ever “easy peasy.”

You were both knee-deep in a firefight, bullets flying around you as Wade expertly sliced through enemies with his katanas, making sarcastic comments with every swing. You were holding your own, taking down attackers with precision, trusting Wade to watch your back like always. But as the fight escalated, so did Wade’s recklessness.

He was laughing, spinning through the air with a grenade in hand, yelling something about “making it rain” before tossing it toward a group of enemies. Except… it wasn’t just the enemies in the blast radius.

You saw the grenade land just a few feet away from where you were crouched behind cover. Time seemed to slow as realization hit. The explosion was deafening, the force of it sending you flying backward, crashing hard into the concrete wall behind you. Pain exploded through your body, a sharp, burning sensation spreading from your side where the shrapnel had torn through your skin.

The world around you blurred, the sounds of battle fading as you gasped for breath, clutching your side as blood seeped between your fingers. You could barely move, your limbs heavy, the pain overwhelming every sense.

“Y/N!” Wade’s voice cut through the haze, suddenly filled with panic. Within seconds, he was kneeling beside you, his usual carefree attitude gone, replaced with genuine fear. His hands hovered over you, shaking as he tried to figure out what to do. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… babe, I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—”

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, your chest tightening with every breath. Wade’s face twisted with guilt and fear, his mask pushed up just enough to reveal the raw emotion on his face. He pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but he was shaking too much to be effective.

“Don’t you die on me, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Don’t you dare. I swear I’ll kill everyone here if you—if you don’t…”

You reached up, managing to brush your fingers against his cheek. “Wade…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It’s okay…”

“It’s not okay!” Wade shouted, his voice cracking. “I—God, I’m such an idiot! I should’ve been more careful! I never should’ve—”

Tears stung your eyes as you watched him, the man who never took anything seriously, now completely falling apart because of you. You knew he blamed himself, even though you didn’t. It was an accident, a risk that came with being with someone like him. But seeing him like this, so afraid of losing you, broke your heart.

“I’m sorry,” Wade whispered, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You squeezed his hand weakly, managing a small smile through the pain. “I’m still here, Wade.”

And as the world around you faded into darkness, you held onto that small bit of reassurance—that no matter how reckless he was, Wade Wilson loved you more than anything. And he’d fight to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

Flying with Warren had always been one of your favorite things. There was something freeing about soaring through the sky with him, the wind rushing through your hair as you clung to his warm, muscular frame. His wings, beautiful and powerful, were like an extension of him—graceful, protective, and strong.

You trusted Warren implicitly. He’d never let you fall before, always keeping you close to him when you flew together. But today, something went wrong. It was supposed to be just another evening flight, the two of you escaping the chaos of the world below to find solace in the clouds. You had no idea it would end the way it did.

You were high up, the city below you nothing more than a blur of lights. Warren held you close as he flew, his arms wrapped around you, his wings beating rhythmically as you both enjoyed the peaceful moment. But suddenly, there was a shift in the air, and Warren’s hold on you loosened.

You gasped as you felt yourself slip from his grasp, your heart lurching in your chest as you plummeted toward the ground below. The wind roared in your ears, and for a split second, you thought this was it—that you were going to die.

But then Warren was there, his arms catching you just before you hit the ground, his wings flaring out as he desperately tried to slow your fall. You hit the ground hard, pain exploding through your body as you landed awkwardly on your side, your breath knocked out of you. The world spun around you as you groaned in pain, clutching your ribs where the impact had been the worst.

“Y/N!” Warren’s voice was filled with panic as he knelt beside you, his wings folding back as he reached for you. His hands hovered over you, unsure of where to touch without hurting you more. “Oh God, I—are you okay? I didn’t mean to… I lost my grip, I… I’m so sorry.”

You winced, trying to breathe through the pain, but each breath was a struggle. “Warren… I’m okay,” you managed to choke out, though the pain said otherwise.

Warren’s face twisted with guilt, his usually calm and composed demeanor shattered as he looked at you. “No, you’re not,” he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “I should’ve been more careful. I never should’ve… I almost…”

Tears stung at your eyes as you watched him, the man who always seemed so invincible, now broken and afraid because of what he’d done. You knew he blamed himself, even though you didn’t. It was an accident, something that could’ve happened to anyone. But seeing him like this—so shaken, so vulnerable—made your heart ache.

“I’ve got you,” Warren whispered, his voice trembling as he carefully pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. “I’m not letting go again. I swear.”

You leaned into him, your body aching but your heart full as you listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath you. “I know,” you whispered, closing your eyes as the pain slowly began to fade. “I trust you, Warren.”

And as he held you close, his wings wrapping around you protectively, you knew that no matter what happened, Warren would never let anything hurt you again. Not even himself.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

Being with Jean was like being wrapped in warmth and light, the love you shared radiating between you in ways that went beyond the physical. Her telepathy meant that she always knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling, and that connection made your bond stronger than you ever thought possible.

But sometimes, her powers were unpredictable. Sometimes, when her emotions got the best of her, things would slip.

It had been a stressful day for Jean. The team had just come back from a difficult mission, and you could feel the weight of it bearing down on her. You tried to comfort her, to be there for her like you always were, but Jean was lost in her own head, overwhelmed by the flood of thoughts and emotions around her.

"Jean," you called softly, stepping closer to her as she stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Talk to me."

She didn't respond at first, her eyes closed as she tried to quiet the noise in her mind. You could feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, and you knew something was wrong. Before you could say anything else, though, Jean's eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with the power of the Phoenix that lived within her.

"Y/N, I—" she started, her voice shaking, but before she could finish, a surge of telekinetic energy burst from her, slamming into you without warning.

The force sent you flying across the room, your body colliding hard with the wall before crumpling to the floor. Pain shot through your spine as you gasped for breath, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Your vision blurred for a moment, the edges darkening as you fought to stay conscious.

"Y/N!" Jean's voice was filled with horror as she rushed to your side, her telekinetic powers immediately pulling you into her arms before you could fall any further. "Oh God, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t—"

You groaned, clutching your side where the pain was the worst, but you forced yourself to look up at her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and brimming with tears, her hands trembling as she held you.

"Jean…" you whispered, your voice weak as the pain pulsed through you. "It's… it's okay."

She shook her head violently, tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, it's not! I hurt you! I—my powers—I lost control and—" Her voice cracked as she choked back a sob, her grip tightening around you. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to…"

You reached up, brushing your fingers against her cheek. "I know. I know you didn’t mean to."

Jean closed her eyes, her tears falling onto your skin as she leaned into your touch. "I can’t… I can’t lose control like that," she whispered. "I can't risk hurting you. I love you too much…"

You smiled weakly, your thumb gently wiping away her tears. "Jean, I trust you. You’re the strongest person I know. And I know you’d never hurt me on purpose."

She opened her eyes, looking down at you with so much love and pain in her gaze that it made your heart ache. "I’m scared," she admitted, her voice trembling. "What if I can’t control it next time? What if the Phoenix—"

You shook your head, cutting her off. "We’ll figure it out. Together. You don’t have to do this alone, Jean."

Jean let out a shaky breath, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she held you close, her forehead resting against yours. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don’t deserve you."

You smiled, your hand resting against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. "Yes, you do. You always have."

Rogue (Anna Marie)

Loving Rogue was like holding a flame in your hands—beautiful, intense, and dangerous. But you had never feared her. Not once. Despite her worries about her powers, despite the distance she tried to put between you for your own safety, you had never doubted that you could make this work. You loved her, and she loved you, and that was all that mattered.

Still, Rogue was always afraid that one day, her powers would get out of control. And today, her fear became reality.

You were in the training room, helping her practice her control, something you did often. It wasn’t an official Danger Room session, just the two of you. Rogue had been getting better, learning to control her skin’s power-draining abilities, learning to hold back. But it was still a work in progress.

You’d been sparring, teasing each other with light-hearted jabs, when it happened. Her glove slipped during a fast block, and her bare hand grazed your wrist.

The sensation was instant. You felt the strength drain from your body, your energy slipping away like water through your fingers. Your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision darkening around the edges. You could hear Rogue’s panicked voice, but it was distant, muffled.

“Y/N!” Her voice cracked as she rushed to your side, pulling her gloves back on with trembling hands. “Oh God, oh God, Ah didn’t mean to! Please, wake up, sugah, please!”

You blinked, the world coming back into focus as the wave of exhaustion began to fade. Rogue knelt beside you, her hands hovering over you but not touching, her green eyes wide with terror.

“Ah hurt ya,” she whispered, her accent thicker than usual, her voice trembling. “Ah didn’t mean to, Ah swear! Ah was bein’ careful, Ah—”

“Rogue…” you croaked, reaching up weakly to grab her wrist. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “No, it’s not okay! Ah coulda killed ya. Ah almost did!”

You struggled to sit up, and Rogue immediately helped you, her hands steady but her eyes full of guilt. “You didn’t,” you said softly. “You didn’t, and that’s what matters.”

Rogue’s lower lip trembled as she looked at you, her usually strong demeanor cracking. “Ah can’t keep riskin’ your life like this. Ah can’t control it, and Ah don’t want to hurt ya again.”

You cupped her cheek, your thumb brushing away a tear. “You’re not going to lose me, Rogue. I’m not afraid of you.”

Her breath hitched, and she leaned into your touch, closing her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Ah love ya too much to lose ya.”

“And I love you too much to leave,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to hers. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

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gojoest · 17 days

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BURDEN and REVERENCE — gojo satoru

MDNI, pregnancy freak!satoru, f!reader, established relationship (married + reader is expecting), pregnancy, lots of pet names (love, pretty one, baby, sweetness, my beautiful wife), fingering, humping, cumming in pants (<- hinted), wc: 1.5k, not proofread, dividers by @/cafekitsune

what your fingers can’t, your husband’s will ;)

“Stupid Satoru”, with a shaky breath you mumble under your nose. “It’s all because of you—", you whine to yourself.

Grabbing onto the sink in the bathroom with one hand to support yourself, you desperately try to make the other one work its way (and magic) between your legs, albeit ineffectively.

You can’t properly reach down and take care of yourself now — courtesy of the swollen belly that your very husband brought upon you. No matter how much you bend and shift, your baby bump is still in the way. Your fingers alone prove unable to make it to the spots in you that are itching to be touched right now.

“Stupid, idiot, bastard— “

“I love you too”, a familiar voice reaches your ears — the words are spoken with a smile that’s imbued itself in the timbre of it. “You look beautiful”

A sigh breaks past your lips. “In distress? — Sure”

Your husband — and the father of your unborn child, Gojo Satoru — stands tall at the bathroom entrance, looking at you with lovesick eyes, admiring your naked body with reverence. “I’m sorry”, he breathes.

It is not an apology for being late though.

Times like this one are the raw example of the changes he had forced on your body.

There are certain things you can no longer do by yourself now that your belly’s grown quite a bit, or you can — but at the cost of great discomfort, you must admit. Tying your shoelaces, reaching certain parts of your body when you shower that require you to bend down, or when you try to get off on your own — all those innocuous activities have suddenly become quite the challenge now with his baby growing inside you.

At times like this, you need him — and he is more than happy to help and serve you.

Truth be told, he bears a little bit of guilt for burdening you like this, but it is a guilt that he likes to let plague his conscience…

…because he’s completely enamored with this state of you — pregnant, swollen with his seed that is blooming in your womb like a flower, the you that is reliant on him to wash your feet, to rub your ankles, to paint your toenails, to fuck your depths your fingers can’t reach — now those are the parts of your body only he has access to; not even you.

You need him, and he loves that.

Slowly rolling his sleeves up, he inches closer to you. “Let me take care of you, my love”

To him, you look so beautiful in your naked glory on display. Leaned against the sink with a hand between your thighs, your swollen breasts like two open hands awaiting to be grasped by him, your round belly sticking out towards him — the view alone makes his cock stiffen in a heartbeat. Fuck, he mouths the word. The pressure in his groin is festering, really fast.

You free your hand now, knowing that he’s here to take charge of things, and once before you he takes a hold of it and brings it to his lips. Starting from the knuckles he paints your fingers with tender kisses, licking the remnants of your slick on them. “You should’ve waited for me”, he hums into your hand. “You know I love joining you — don’t keep this from me”, he pouts a little.

“I know, but…”, you knit your brows. “I don’t want to be a burden to you like this, all the time”

Maybe, you’re just having another hormonal episode. Maybe it’s just that, you think, because Satoru’s never given you a reason to feel like you are weighing on him.

Eyes squinting, Satoru tilts his head in confusion. His hips push forward, causing the erection under his slacks to rub against your belly — on purpose, to prove a point. “Do I look burdened to you, pretty one?”

You chuckle. A-ha— point proven, you see. “That looks like a huge burden if you ask me” — your remark drags a short laugh out of him.

“Mind if I share some of it with you then?”, he grins smugly.

“You say some of it, but you really give all of it to me”

“It’s ‘cause you take it so well, baby”

You slap his chest — Ah, what a dickhead — and smile at him.

His lips charge towards you and peck you softly on the forehead. “You are never a burden to me”, he whispers against you before he slowly starts to drag his body down — on his knees, in front of you. Kissing every inch of you along the way — the tip of your nose, your lips, your chin, the length of your neck, your breasts, your beautiful belly... “Sometimes I fear that I am the one burdening you — with my freakish desire of you, all the time”

“So you admit to being a freak”, you ruffle his hair softly as his cheek remains pressed against your baby bump. “You flatter me too much”

“No — I revere you”, he gazes up at you, his lips longingly kissing the skin on your belly as he takes both of your hands into his and places them on his shoulders. “Here — hold on, and relax your thighs”, his hands travel down between the plush of your legs and slide them open like they’re curtains. Your nails dig into his clothed flesh, earning a low hiss from him.

“Stay like this for me, love — stay open for me to reach you” — soft pecks on the flesh that separates his lips from his unborn follow each word that seeps from his mouth, as if to ease you into his finger prodding at your slit along with his thumb rubbing tender circles on your sensitive clit. His other hand rested against the bottom of your belly.

“Satoru”, you moan softly — but demandingly — at his touch. Clenching your cunt to try and suck him in — and you do, although not entirely. You force just about the tip of his finger into you. “I am ready”

…and you’re impatient, he smiles.

His middle finger tardily inches into you, urging his cock to twitch under his pants at your warmth and at the wetness soaking into his skin. Fuck, he curses quietly under his breath — his hips involuntarily buck forward with need, his clothed bulge pressing itself on the lower of your limb; he is humping your leg like a dog.

Fuck, he must be a sorry sight for you right now — he thinks. And here you are, being groundlessly anxious about burdening him… With what exactly? Have you ever seen a dog burdened by its owner? Isn’t it the other way around? — he ponders, while his finger sinks deeper into you.

“More, ‘Toru…”, you whimper. “Want m-more..”

Grunting at the way your muscles contract around his finger, Satoru slides it in further — repeatedly reaching in as far as possible, curling and drawing back. “More what, baby?”, he coos. “More depth—“, he rams his finger in, causing you to jolt and squeeze your hands harder around his shoulders, mouth hung open, voiceless and unable to even gasp. “Or more fingers?” — he pulls away, only to push back two of them in.

You gasp, barely able to draw in a breath of air, thighs squeezing around his hand. His fingers are thick, and they are long. Two of them almost feel like a cock inside you.

“Tell me, love — which one is it?”, innocently he asks, while his fingers maneuver inside you, not so innocently. A self-satisfied look on his face that you want to wipe off with the back of your hand, but all you can muster is a whimper of pleasure washing over you.

“Oh? Is it both, baby?”, he continues coaxing you smugly. “Is this how you were trying to fuck yourself? Is that it, baby? Am I doing it right for you, sweetness?”

“Fuck, S-satoru—“, you cry. Moving your hips in sync with his fingers, your round belly hits his face with each motion, clawing low grunts from his throat and desperate humps around your leg as he slides his throbbing bulge up and down on it. He was soaking his pants by now, but you were his sole focus. He’d clean his mess later, with you in the shower — but still, by grinding on you like a dog he wanted to let you know the effect you were having on him.

“I am, baby — I am fucking you”, he croons like a sweet addition to the squelching noises of your sopping pussy. “Cum on my fingers, my love. My beautiful wife — cum on your husband’s fingers”, his glazed digits pumping harder, hammering into you fast and filling the bathroom with echoes of labored breathing and loud smacks of his hand against your soaked cunt.

“C-cuming” — you manage to utter through rapid breaths, pussy pulsing and your walls grabbing more at his fingers as the wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your hands relax their grip and hug around his neck as you look at him with weary eyes, lips panting heavily still. “What a good girl”, he speaks to you. “Now come—”, his hand retreats from your folds, causing you to slightly flinch as he pulls away from your sore, sensitive cunt, “Let me clean you up, and maybe — burden you a little”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jjk x you #[ ♡ ] — satoru #pregnancy freak!satoru

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berristreasuredlibrary · 23 days

Text

Big beefy men...sighhhh

MDNI: smut ahead (18+), not proofread, I wanted to write something and this was the best I could do :(

Big beefy men who take up the entirety of doorframes, who have to lower their heads to walk into your home. Big beefy men whose muscles strain against their clothes, their biceps stretching the material of their sleeves, their thighs being shown off in their pants.

Big muscles just begging to be set free, thick, and defined by years of use. So big that both your hands just barely enclose around their forearm, much less their bicep. Big beefy men who let you hand from said biceps whenever they flex, strong enough to lift you off the ground with ease, hardly breaking a sweat as they grin down at you, proud of how easily they can carry you around. How simple it is to maneuver you this way and that.

They love showing off for you, picking up heavy things, taking the groceries inside for you - big hands able to carry multiple bags at once - grabbing things up on high shelves for you, and so much more. He loves hearing you coo at him, telling him how big and strong he is, adoration dancing across your pretty eyes, his own shining with pride and his cheeks tinged a light pink.

Big beefy men who adore holding you, molding your softer body to his harder one, a strong arm wrapped around your middle, keeping you pressed close to him. His free hand tangled in your hair, fingers combing through the strands slowly, nails scratching your scalp lightly as he watches your eyes flutter, fighting off your sleepiness.

Big beefy men who adore being held by you just as much, if not more. Their faces pressed into your chest, one of your legs hooked over him, keeping him close as your fingers toy with his hair or trace shapes upon his broad back. His arms are wrapped around your waist, face buried into your chest, occasionally trailing ticklish kisses from one side to the other.

They adore being wrapped in your embrace, the size difference making their minds hazy with want, feeling how much smaller you were compared to them. It made their brain go fuzzy, scenarios flashing through their mind, images of you being pinned beneath them, struggling and squirming when the angry tip of his cock nudges through your soaked folds, rutting against your clit like a wild animal in heat.

It was only logical that he fulfill his fantasies, he knows you wouldn't deny him, especially if he spoke so softly towards you. If he tugged on your shirt and pouted up at you, batting his lashes and rubbing his nose against your chest and throat, like a puppy begging for attention. He mouths at your pulse point, licking and sucking different-sized marks across your skin, his hands pushing up your shirt to expose more of your softness to him.

When your fingers tangle in his hair, he merely groans as he latches onto a nipple, licking and sucking harshly while his fingers toy with the other, pinching and rolling it as his free hand travels south. When his hand reaches your panties, he tugs them down your legs, bunching the fabric in his hands before he pushes the ruined garment into your mouth, listening to you whine and feeling you squirm against him.

His mouth leaves your nipple briefly, pressing a kiss to the bud before he latches onto the other, giving it the same treatment as its twin, his hands pushing apart your legs, holding them down against the bed as he shifts onto his knees. Sitting upright, he stares down at you, eyes full of the same adoration you have for him, his gaze flickering between your marked neck, your pretty nipples, and your drooling pussy.

He can't help himself, not when you look absolutely ravishing spread out for him like this. So, he dips down, pushing his hips into the mattress for relief, and pushes his tongue between your folds, dragging his tongue from your fluttering hole to your throbbing clit. Licking up your slick, he groans into your pussy, muttering something about how sweet you are before he's burying his face into your cunt, arms locking around your thighs to pull you flush against his mouth.

He's messy, uncaring about how your slick and his drool drips down his chin, the only thought bouncing around his head is you - how good your skin feels against his hands, how fucking delicious you taste, how pretty your muffled moans sound. His cock throbs, it aches when he glances up at you, eyes locking on your expression, watching your eyes flutter and your chest heave. When your fingers tug on his hair, he struggles to swallow down a moan, his fingers digging into your plush thighs, his tongue dipping into your hole, slurping up whatever your pussy drools for him.

When your orgasm crashes over you, your body thrashes against the mattress, your hips pushing back into the plush bed, hands shoving at his head and shoulder, desperate to get away from him; or at least make him ease up from his licking and sucking. Your attempts are futile, however, with the way his arms lock around your thighs, uncaring about his lack of oxygen - even forcing your thighs to close around his head with his big arms, he continues to slurp messily, making out with your gushing pussy until he's finished.

When he does finally pull away, his hands are grabbing your hips to flip you over, forcing your back to arch as he pulls your drenched panties from your mouth. His hands fumble to push his sweats down, hissing through gritted teeth as his cock springs free, swollen and leaking pre from an angry tip. His hands grab the fat of your ass, kneading the plush skin with his big palms, hips canting forward to rub against your pussy, feeling you twitch and whine, still reeling from your powerful orgasm.

When he deems himself slick enough, he grabs the base of his dick with one hand, nudging your entrance with a grunt, his other hand on your hip, keeping you in place as he begins pushing into your sensitive pussy. Listening to you whine and feeling you trying to squirm away from him, he huffs, grabbing you by the crooks of your elbows and pulling you up slightly, fingers digging into your skin as he continues pushing his angry dick into you.

Your whines only grow louder, breathless moans leaving your bitten lips by the deliciously painful stretch, your pussy spasming around his thick cock. His groans and pathetic little moans leave your mind hazy, paired with the familiar burn of being stretched out by your lover, you can hardly think straight. When your hips rock back impatiently, his mind reels, and his hips snap forward, forcing the rest of his dick into your clenching pussy, a shiver running down his spine at the beautiful mewl that leaves your lips.

His hands pull you back to meet each ruthless snap of his strong hips, his nails leaving indents in your skin as your hands clench, your back arching as your head falls forward, your mind a foggy haze of building pleasure. The loud squelching sounds of your pussy rival the loud moans leaving the both of you, the creak of your poor bed, and the headboard hitting the wall with each brutal thrust.

Sweat rolls down his temple as he mouths at your neck and shoulder, biting down when your pussy clamps around him, stifling a ragged moan as his thrusts become increasingly rough. He lets go of your arms, letting you fall forward onto the mattress, big hands grabbing your waist and pushing down, forcing your arch even deeper as his balls smack against your sensitive clit, his knees pushing your thighs apart.

It's animalistic, the way he thrusts into you, like an animal in heat, chasing release with a bruising hold on you. Your poor body jolts against the bed, pitiful moans and whines leaving you as your hands fist the sheets beneath you, the pressure in your lower tummy becoming too much for you to handle. Your babbles only serve to drive him madder, his hips shifting to hit that spot inside your gummy walls, groaning when he feels you tightening around his cock.

He grits his teeth, staring down at your body when he pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in powerful waves, pussy gushing onto the sheets, your face buried into the pillows, muffling your sobs as your entire body shakes and jolts, thrashing beneath your lover who refuses to let up; absolutely enamored by the sight of you falling apart on his cock.

It doesn't take much longer for his cock to twitch, the familiar sign of his impending release. Pathetic mewls leave your lips, eyes glossy and unfocused as he grits his teeth, leaning over to press onto you, his hands on either side of your head, fisting the sheets as his body keeps you pressed down on the mattress, his hips just rutting into you now.

His head falls forward into the crook of your neck, desperate kisses are pressed to your sweaty skin, his body going rigid as spurts of cum shoot into your poor pussy, his hips simply grinding into your ass now, drawn-out moans muffled into your neck, his knuckles going white with the grip he has on the sheets, veins visible along his forearms and hands as his hips finally still, the last spurts of cum painting your gummy walls.

Panting fills the room, both yours and his, your legs trembling and your body twitching through the aftershocks of such violent orgasms. Tender kisses are pressed to your sweaty temple and messy hair, his hands smoothing over your waist and hips, murmuring about how good you were to him as he slowly withdrawals from your addicting pussy. His eyes are immediately drawn to your cunt, his mouth falling open to let out a sinful groan as he watches his cum slowly spill from your spent pussy.

The sight alone has his dick stirring to life once more, greedy hands turning you over, shoving a pillow under your hips to aide you, despite your weak protests, his hands already grabbing your legs to put over his broad shoulders, apologies leaving his lips as he glides his angry tip through your folds once more.

Big beefy men who are insatiable animals when it comes to you.

KNY: Kyojuro, Sanemi...

JJK: Gojo, Geto...

AOT: Jean, Armin...

MHA: Keigo...

COD: Konig, Soap (Johnny)

+ more

#kny smut #jjk smut #aot smut #mha smut #bnha smut #cod smut #kyojuro smut #sanemi smut #gojo smut #geto smut #jean smut #armin smut #keigo x reader #konig smut #soap smut

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azrielslittleslut · 3 months

Note

Ok but I absolutely LOVED "bad hair day", and wanted to request another(same anon) small fluffy fic where reader is a librarian from Day and got sent to work with Rhysand, since he needs help with research? Azriel sees her for the first time and is like "Oh, wait, pretty" and stands there staring and Cassian observes since he was chatting nearby and is like "oh this is my next gossip topic." Fluff, ily and your work. remember to take breakss<33 feel free to change this up a bit, wasn't very specific sorry :,)

"A Day Court Crush"

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight language, fluff, the teeniest bit of angst if you squint hard enough

Word Count: 1k

a/n: I'm so happy you enjoyed the fic, and I hope you like this one as well!<3

Azriel groaned as he walked down the steps to the library in the River House. "Why are these books so heavy?" he grumbled to Cassian, who was also struggling to carry his stack of tomes.

Cassian grunted as he nearly stumbled on one of the stairs. "It's like they're filled with rocks."

Az readjusted the books in his arms as they continued to walk down the spiraling staircase. "Do you know why Rhys insisted on us bringing these? They've been collecting dust in the House of Wind's library for ages."

Cassian shook his head, his dark locks falling across his brow. He blew out a breath as a strand got stuck in his eyelashes. "Rhys hired a new librarian from Day Court to help with some research," he said, his deep voice echoing along the stone. "Nesta met her already. Apparently, she's the best librarian Day has to offer, and she shares Nesta's love for smutty books."

Azriel chuckled to himself. "A librarian who loves smutty books. I wonder how that conversation got started," he mumbled to himself.

At the bottom of the staircase, there was a set of grand double doors that reached high into the shadows above. With his hip, Az pushed the doors open, and he was immediately overwhelmed by the scent of aged parchment and polished wood.

There were high, arched windows lining the walls, allowing beams of sunlight to cascade into the room. Wrought-iron chandeliers filled with candles hung along the ceiling, making everything seem warm and cozy. There were also some tables and chairs scattered throughout the room, all neatly organized to make the most of the space.

Rich mahogany shelves lined every wall, filled with ancient books of various sizes. Some of them were bound in leather, while others were scrolls tucked carefully into illuminated nooks.

How the hell had Rhys built up such a collection?

"Azriel. Cassian," Rhys drawled, pulling Azriel's attention to the center of the room. He stood next to one of the large tables at the center. It will filled with stacks of large books, similar to the ones Cassian and Azriel had in their arms. "We've been waiting for ages."

Cassian rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have just used your magic to bring these down here?"

Rhys chuckled as he stepped aside to reveal the female who had been standing behind him. "I could have, but I wanted you to meet my new researcher." He gestured to the female with a hand. "This is Y/N. She will be working for me for the foreseeable future."

Azriel was unable to keep his mouth from falling open at the sight of you. You were wearing a fitted, flowing gown made of airy fabric that glistened like the first rays of dawn. It was made of the finest silk in shades of gold, pale yellow, and cream. Along the bodice and sleeves, there were intricate designs of sunbursts and delicate floral patterns, interwoven with shimmering threads of gold.

Your beautiful hair fell around your face, and it was adorned with tiny gemstones that sparkled in the sunlight. Around your neck, you wore a small sun-shaped pendant, and Azriel found his eyes glued to the way it rose and fell with your soft breaths.

"Hello," you said in a soft, sing-song voice. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Rhys has told me so much about you."

"All good things I hope," Cassian said with a grin.

You chuckled, and Az felt his heart skip a beat at the lovely sound. "Of course, of course."

You looked at Azriel, and your eyes widened as you saw the books in his arms. "Oh!" you exclaimed, rushing over to him. You placed a hand on the first book in the stack. "This is the one I've been needing. Thank you for bringing it!"

Azriel was still silent, unable to form words as he stared at the small freckles that dotted the skin of your face. His mind had utterly scrambled at your scent- citrus, lemon, orange... He was beside himself.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Az, I know you are not a male for words, but I think the lady deserves a simple 'you're welcome'."

Az blinked his eyes as he forced himself to say, "You're welcome." His voice was rough, and it sounded oddly like a broken-down piece of machinery.

You laughed as you slid the book from his arms. "You're Azriel," you said, your face forming into a beautiful smile that reminded him of the sun. "You're Rhys's shadowsinger and spymaster."

He hated that you knew who he was and what he did. He couldn't bear the thought of you being tainted by being in his presence. He desperately wanted to change the topic of conversation, so he said, "You're the librarian who likes smutty books."

Cassian roared, laughing so hard that the books fell from his hands and onto the floor. "Shit, Az," he said through his laughter, "maybe you should try resorting to poetry or something next time."

Rhys bit his lip, trying to contain his own giggles. "Azriel. Please do not make my new librarian uncomfortable. She just started working here."

Azriel flushed, looking down at the ground to hide his embarrassment. What the hell had he been thinking? He really had to bring up your fascination with smutty books?

You chuckled as you placed a gentle hand on his arm. "It's alright," you said. You winked at him as you turned away to walk back to the table. It took all of Azriel's restraint to keep his eyes on the back of your head as you walked away. "I can show you my smutty books if you're that interested, shadowsinger."

Az stepped back, his shadows wrapping around him, preparing to winnow him out of this place. As he faded into the world of shadows, he heard Cassian call out, "I hope you know that I'm never going to stop talking about this. I'm also never going to let you live this down."

As his shadows whisked him away, his chest tightened at the sound of your laughter, a melody that echoed in his heart. Despite his embarrassment, a smile tugged at his lips, and he hoped that Cassian wouldn't let him forget about this.

He didn't want to forget about you. In fact, maybe he would seek you out one day.

He had always been curious about the contents of those smutty books.

#azriel #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #dee writes #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel x you #acotar fic

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lightsoutnaway · 6 months

Text

Be Patient

PAIRING: Lando Norris x reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, blowjob, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, orgasm denial

SUMMARY: Lando told you to be patient when you wanted to leave the party. On the drive home he’s going to have to be patient. Road head.

WORD COUNT: 1,036

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am currently accepting requests! send them in (I’ll write for more than who I have so far, you can ask for other drivers)

“Be patient.”

That’s what Lando had said an hour into the party you were at when you told him you wanted to go home. You had whispered it to him, your lips just brushing his ear. You had run your fingers up his abs over his shirt. You knew he knew what you wanted. But it had been several more hours between then and now.

You were in the passenger seat of Lando’s car now. Unfortunately, the drive back to his place was longer than you were willing to tolerate. You knew you weren’t going to make it. You pulled your dress up so that your panties were on display. Lando glanced over at you.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m horny,” you whined. “You made us stay so long.” You started running your fingers over the lace of your panties. Lando’s eyes flashed between you and the road.

“You can’t wait another twenty minutes?” He asked. It was a question, but in his mind there was only one acceptable answer.

“No,” you drawled. That was not what Lando wanted to hear. “I need something.”

“You’re gonna be in big trouble when we get home if you don’t put your dress back down now,” Lando told you firmly. You were rubbing your fingers up and down the thin lace of your panties, legs stretched as wide as they could be in Lando’s passenger seat. You wanted to be in trouble.

You looked over at Lando. He looked gorgeous. He had a tight black button up on. He had rolled the sleeves up halfway through the night giving you a better view of his arms. His necklace was dangling against his chest, visible where Lando hadn’t buttoned up his shirt. His tight black slacks made his ass look amazing all night. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and his scruff was just the length you liked to feel rubbing against your thighs.

You had an idea. You pulled your hand away from yourself and leaned over the console towards Lando. He looked down at you as you reached towards his crotch.

“What are you doing?” Lando asked. You were already pulling at his belt.

“What does it seem like I’m doing?” You teased him.

“I’m driving,” Lando said.

“On the roads. You’re a Formula 1 driver. I imagine that’s more stressful,” you said as you pulled down Lando’s zipper.

“This isn’t safe,” Lando told you. You turned your head up and met his eyes. You placed your hand over his boxers and started to slowly stroke him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked. Lando looked at the road. He sighed and looked back at you.

“No,” he admitted. He wasn’t going to let you have all the control though. “If you can make me come by the time we get home I won’t make you wait to come.” You hummed happily and rubbed against him more firmly. Lando moved his arm to let you lean down over him. You started pressing kisses over his boxers. You could feel him getting hard as you began licking where you could feel his tip pressing into his underwear. Lando gasped and you smiled. You leaned back just enough to pull Lando’s boxers down, freeing his now hard cock from his pants.

“You ready, baby?” You called up.

“Don’t tease. You’ll be in trouble,” he said. You giggled before leaning towards him. His hard length slid into your velvety soft mouth and Lando moaned loudly. The car swerved just a bit. You pulled back off him, though you were sure to keep your lips tightened around his length as you did.

“Are you sure you can drive like this?” You asked. Lando reached down and put a hand on the back of your head, pushing you back towards his cock.

“I’m usually going 300 kilometers an hour. I think I can drive with your lips around my cock on an empty road,” Lando said. You smiled as you let him push his cock back into your mouth. You quickly began bobbing your head up and down, careful not to bump the steering wheel. You pumped what you couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hand.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” Lando whined when you swallowed around his cock. You pushed yourself down further and swallowed again and Lando whined loudly. He jerked his hips upwards involuntarily and you gagged on him. You pulled back slightly, catching your breath.

“Sorry,” Lando murmured. He ran his fingers through your hair softly, pushing it back away from your face. He glanced down to see your lips around his cock and groaned in pleasure. He looked back up at the road, knowing if he watched too long he’d be sure to crash. You pulled up slightly and focused your attention on his tip, running your tongue all over him as you sucked.

“You’re so good for me, fuck,” Lando groaned. You could tell he was getting close. You started bobbing up and down again making deep strokes each time. Lando twitched in your mouth. You started moving faster. Lando moaned in pleasure when you let him hit the back of your throat. You reached down with your free hand and took his balls in your hands.

“Oh shit,” Lando moaned. “I’m gonna come,” he warned. You bobbed your head two more times and then pulled off him and sat back in your seat. Lando swerved the car into the opposite lane. He looked over at you and then down at his throbbing cock. You smiled at him smugly.

“What are you doing?” Lando nearly shouted. It seemed to be his favorite thing to ask you.

“I thought you needed to be patient too,” you told him. Lando’s eyes went dark. He turned towards the road, tightened his hold on the steering wheel and slammed on the gas. You felt a shiver run over your body at the change in his attitude. He didn’t look at you again, but when he spoke his voice alone had you buzzing with anticipation.

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He was right about that, and you were desperate to find out.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine

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avocado-writing · 22 days

Note

Not sure if this is enough to go off of but I loved the poly!poolverine fic where they rescued the reader. I was wondering if we could get some more of them being protective of the reader 🙏🏻

The bar is pretty crowded tonight. You nurse a rum and coke and hope Logan and Wade are able to find you in the corner booth you managed to snag, because you know the second you go to order another some opportunistic patrons will take your spot - and you’ve been on your feet all day at work so there’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen.

You take a sip. It’s warm now, ice long since melted in the heat of the room. You grimace at the taste as someone slides onto the bench next to you.

It is not one of your boys.

“Hey, baby.”

He’s big. Kinda guy who goes to the gym every day big, which isn’t inherently bad - but from the way he uses his size to press up against you there’s a little bit of unease rising in your chest. He puts his elbow on the table so that he can rest his jaw in his hand, biceps flexing in the tight shirt he wears.

“I’m waiting for someone,” you say, as calmly as you can, hoping this will deter him. It does not.

“So? We can have a little talk, can’t we? Not hurting anybody.”

His hand goes to cover yours where it rests on the table. You snatch it back. He frowns.

“Dunno who you’re waiting for, but they probably shouldn’t have left you here alone. Looks like they don’t care about you, honey.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, annoyed, deciding it’s not worth it. He won’t go so you will. You slide out the free side of the booth - but you’re forced to stop when he grabs your wrist.

“I wasn’t done talking to you yet,” he says. Okay. Now you’re panicking. You manage to shake yourself free of his grasp and quickly push through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd. No such luck. He knows where you’re heading.

The air is cold on the street as you speed up; not running, never running, that might incite a chase. He’s on your heels anyway.

“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”

“I told you I’m not interested!”

He grabs you again, harder this time. A grip you can’t break free from.

“You know, you should learn not to be such a bitch —”

“Oh! Isn’t this fun! Sorry to interrupt this little show of misogyny in action but it’d be great if you could let go of our pookie.”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Wade’s voice. Suddenly you’ve got someone either side of you: the brick which is Logan on your left, and the snark which is Wade on your right.

The guy who’s holding you does not drop your arm. He frowns.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“They’re who I was waiting for,” you say quickly, as if this will deter him. The man laughs, loudly, cruelly.

“Sorry, you’re in some kinda threesome with this old fucker and whatever this dude is? Fuck, honey, you really need someone to show you what a real man—”

He does not get a chance to finish. Logan’s fist has collided with his face with such ferocity you can hear his nose break. The man yelps and staggers backwards, you bring your hand to your chest for safety.

“Should’ve let go, bub,” he mutters, massaging his knuckles. Wade deflates.

“Aw, I wanted to get the first hit in!” He peers over at where the guy is laid out flat. “Go on, get back up. If I don’t throw a punch it emasculates me, and I’m very sensitive about it.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at his sleeve.

“Let’s just go, guys. I don’t think he’s gonna follow us.”

“One sec.”

Wade strolls over and puts his boot on the guy’s chest, pushing down until he’s wheezing.

“You wanna apologise?”

The guy groans out a sorry, and you give a curt nod when Wade turns to see if you’ve accepted it.

“Don’t do this bullshit again, with anyone, or I’m gonna find you, rip your dick off, then feed it to my adorable, hideous dog.”

They cage in around you as your turn, two loyal hounds at your beck and call. You throw a couple of glances over your shoulder as you leave but it’s as you suspected: the guy remains on the cold concrete. When you’re far enough away to feel safe they slow to a stop.

“You okay?” Logan asks, lifting your chin with a finger so that he can get a good look at you. You nod.

“Yeah. Thanks for being there in time.”

“I’m sorry baby, we should have got here earlier, but peanut here tore a guy’s arm off so we had to go and clean up first—”

“Oh god, stop,” you say, pulling a face. You don’t want to know about their line of work, very happy for the business and personal life gulf to be a wide one. “Let’s go get some pizza and head home.”

“Anything you want,” says Logan, squeezing your hand.

Anything where you’re between them is what you want. Safe and happy, they’ll make sure you’re both.

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom #Deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader x wolverine #wolverine x reader x deadpool

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navybrat817 · 9 months

Note

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

Joel/Reader

Free Use - Joel fucking the reader while she’s doing some other task like cooking. They have an agreement that he can fuck her whenever he likes so he just slides into her without preamble 😭

Making dinner (free use)

700 words, Joel x f!Reader.

A/N: The way I said hell yeah out loud . . . You had me at “without preamble.” Click the "#free use!Joel☠️" tag for more. Wanna use Joel? Free Use HCs (post-outbreak/TLOU).

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ Unsafe PIV, consent for free use has been pre-established, pre or non-outbreak. Master List

You’re making dinner for Joel’s birthday and expect him home any minute. Tommy will be staying for dinner, too. You’re wearing Joel’s favorite sundress, the form-fitting one that drives him wild, with no bra. He’s been working with his hands this week, really building something himself, as opposed to overseeing other workers. You love seeing Joel when he gets home from a hands-on job. Sleeves rolled up, shirt blotched with perspiration, forearms smudged with dirt. You get wet just thinking about it and even wetter when the truck pulls into the driveway.

When the guys walk in, they’re as dirty as you expect. Joel gives you a little kiss hello and Tommy greets you politely. The only shower is upstairs, and Joel says Tommy can use it first. Meanwhile, Joel goes to put his tools away in the garage. The door closes again, then Joel’s boots are slow and heavy on the linoleum as he crosses the kitchen. You glance up from the potatoes you’re slicing, and he’s unfastening his belt as he walks. His lips part as he looks you up and down like a piece of meat.

You keep chopping the potatoes while Joel washes his hands right next to you, his jeans grazing your dress. He dries his hands on a lemon-print dish towel, then throws it down on the counter and gets in your space. The shower turns on upstairs. Joel grabs your ass with a quiet “Mmmm.” He steps behind you, crowding you against the counter, and you feel him hard against your ass. He inhales your hair. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day” he whispers to himself in a near-growl. You keep chopping, but slow the knife as his hands hook around your thighs. His large fingers skim up your legs and take your dress with them. He leaves your dress resting on top of your ass, now clad only in a thong. He rocks onto his tiptoes as he frees his stiff cock from his pants. His boot gently kicks the inside of your sandal, prompting you to spread your legs a little more. Then, he pushes your thong out of the way with his pinky, nestles his tip at your dripping entrance, and begins to push inside.

He wraps an arm around your waist, giving you a whiff of sawdust mixed with sweat. His masculine scent never fails to make you weak in the knees. His arm tightens around you, then his stiff manhood plunges into you. You gasp softly as his girth parts your core. You pause your task for only a moment, taking a deep breath as your bodies are joined. His cock retreats, then sinks even deeper into you, bottoming out with a grunt. He gropes your breast, and your nipple hardens. You start chopping the vegetables again.

Joel buries his cock inside you, jerking himself off with your tight, wet cunt while you cook. He growls and grunts and gropes where he wants. His thrusts intensify and the momentum propels you onto your tiptoes. His fingers dig into your hips and his strong hands hold you down while his thick cock fills you up again and again.

The shower water turns off upstairs. Joel quickens his pace, and both his big arms tighten around you as he pistons into you. This isn’t for your pleasure, not at all, but the intensity of the situation, the strength of his arms around you, the waft of his scent, it all comes together and something rapidly builds within you. Your core tightens, his breath becomes ragged, and he twitches inside you. He pulls out all but his massive tip, then slams into you again, filling you to the brim. His cock pulses powerfully, tipping you over the edge into your own climax, and you let the knife clatter into the sink. Joel holds you down on his cock as he comes and you clench around him.

The bathroom door opens upstairs. Joel slides out of you and puts his cock away as Tommy’s footsteps start down the stairs. Joel’s cum trickles out of you and he hands you the lemon-print dish towel. Your face burns as you quickly wipe your inner thighs. When Tommy walks into the kitchen, you’re all disheveled and your dress is filthy from Joel’s arms.

If you like this one, I recommend Speakeasy, Speakeasy Bartender, and Picnic Table.

all Joel - @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea i feel like I'm leaving someone off who asked lmk if you still need on

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#free use!joel #free use!joel miller #free use!Joel☠️

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junezsq · 1 month

Text

ew! bugs

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: he would come over and kill that bug if you called but he’d complain about it first

established relationship

warnings: a few swear words, mention of a spider, a state of panic

word count: 2.2k

a/n: a friend of mine convinced me to post this on here so welp here we go with my first ever tumblr fic. i hope you enjoy! <3

── ᵎᵎ ✦

a sigh left your lips as you pushed the heavy front door closed behind you. after spending the entire afternoon and evening at the wheeler’s helping nancy with an important assignment, coming home to an empty house felt … depressing. you slipped out of your uncomfortable shoes and as you took off your favorite jean jacket your gaze fell upon the yellow sweatshirt you were wearing.

a small smile formed on your lips as you placed the jacket on one of the hooks. while slipping your hands into the sleeves, creating sweater paws, you made your way through the hall and into the kitchen. you hadn’t spoken to steve all day because you’d been preoccupied and now realized you’d missed him. a lot.

when entering the small kitchen your eyes fell on what you were looking for. reluctantly you retracted your hand from the comfort of the sweatshirt’s sleeve and reached out towards the phone. numbers were never really your thing, but you had memorized his by heart. you placed the horn against your ear and leaned your back against the wall next to it, the furthest the string allowed, and waited for him to pick up.

it was as if steve knew you were going to call, because the phone hadn’t even gone over twice when you heard his signature, “steve harrington.”

you smiled softly to yourself, “hey, it’s me.” a soft rustle sounded on the other side of the line before he spoke up again, “hey, what’s up, sweets?”

you instantly relaxed at the sound of his voice, “generally speaking, the sky, but it kind of depends on where you’re standing.” you smiled lightly to yourself, “in my case it’s the kitchen ceiling.”

“oh, you think you’re funny, don’t ya.” he spoke and you chuckled softly at his words. for some reason you knew a smirk was playing on his lips at this exact moment. “i meant, why are you calling at … 11pm? did you just get home?”

you hummed at the latter question, taking the phone string in your free hand, “and no particular reason, just wanted to talk to you.” you spoke quietly, twirling the string around your pointer finger.

“aww, you missed me.” even though he couldn’t see you, you playfully rolled your eyes at his words, “shut up.” you looked down at your hand, remembering what you were wearing, as you continued playing with the string around your finger, “i still got you sweatshirt, by the way, the yellow one.”

“see, i knew it was missing.” you could hear him snap his fingers in remembrance; a habit of his. “don’t worry about it.”

you leaned your head back, your eyes falling on the ceiling. “you don’t want it back?” you voiced, your gaze sweeping over the cracks in the ceiling that had multiplied over the years. apparently your parents didn’t see the need in fixing them, or they didn’t mind because they were never home anyway. steve’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts, “nah, it looks way better on you.”

a small and playful scoff left your lips, “that’s such a cliché thing to say.” you let go of the string to snuggle your hand back into a sweater paw and wrapped your arm around your waist, “are you sure though? i thought it was your favorite. i can wash it for you.”

“i’m sure, sweets.” he spoke softly, “keep it.”

“alright.” you smiled to yourself, your eyes wandering to the clock hanging on the wall opposite you, only just fully registering what time it was, “i’m going to bed now, but i just wanted to hear your voice for a minute.”

the line was silent, as if steve was thinking of what to say, but after a moment he spoke up anyway, a bit quieter than before, “are you okay?” he sounded worried.

“yeah.” a small sigh left your lips, “just tired.” you managed to say before a yawn creeped out.

you could hear a soft chuckle from the other side of the line, “i won’t keep you up any longer, goodnight sweets.” at his words you bit the inside of your cheek. for some reason, even though you’d been together for almost two years now, you couldn’t help but smile when he called you that. sweets.

“goodnight, steve.” you spoke in almost a whisper, waiting a small moment before pulling the horn away from your ear and putting it back up against the wall.

while pushing yourself off the wall you placed your hair behind your ears, another yawn escaped your lips as you turned to walk towards the hall. you couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and snuggle up comfortably in bed. however, just when you took a step you saw something shift in the corner of your eye.

you stopped immediately, slowly turning your head to look at whatever it was that had caught your attention. your eyes widened when you saw a spider slowly creeping around in front of the door towards the hall. “no…” you whispered, immediately taking the same step back, “no, no, no, no.”

without moving, scared the spider was going to do something unpredictable, you glanced at the fruit bowl standing on the kitchen island. while holding your breath, you slowly reached for whatever was in there. “come on.” you mumbled to yourself, and when you’d gotten hold of an orange you let out a teeny tiny breath. you swallowed, staying focused on the spider before throwing the orange, in hopes it was gonna hit it.

the orange didn’t hit the spider though. it hit the floor about a feet next to it, causing the spider to crawl closer towards you. your scream filled the kitchen and you rushed to climb onto the counter.

you didn’t dare to let your eyes waver from the spider as you tried to reach the phone from where you were sat on the counter. when finally getting hold of it, you glanced at it, dialing the number as quick as you could and snatched the horn from the wall. “pick up, please.” you spoke to yourself as you anxiously waited.

“steve harrington.” as soon as you heard his voice you let out a small breath of relief. “steve, it’s me, again.” you swallowed, your eyes already hurting from trying not to blink; not, under any circumstances, wanting to lose sight of the spider.

“y/n?” steve sounded confused, “did you miss me that much?” he chuckled softly and you swore you could almost hear the smirk that was playing on his lips as he spoke, “what’s up? and if you say ‘the sky’ again—“

“steve.” you cut him off, “there’s a spider here and i don’t know what to do.” you swallowed, your grip tightening on the horn as you noticed the spider moving.

“i will— wait, what?”

you moved slightly back on the kitchen counter, “there’s a spider here, steve, could you, maybe, come over and, you know, save me, please?”

you could hear him laugh through the phone, so you slightly raised your voice, “it’s not funny!” he let out another laugh, “y/n, do you really want me to come over, just to kill a spider?”

“you don’t have to kill it, but you could, i don’t know, take it outside.” you frowned, your eyes still focused on the spider, which had now settled in a corner against the wall. you heard him sigh, “it’s almost midnight.”

“so?!” you exclaimed, “what if it gets me, kills me and you didn’t do anything to try and save me?? then what?!” steve let out another chuckle at your words, “can’t you just walk past it?”

you slightly leaned forward to get a closer look at the spider, but as soon as you saw it crawling closer to you, you moved further back onto the counter, “steve, i swear to god, it’s coming closer, i think it’s out to get me. can you please come over?”

you heard him sigh once more, “fine, i’ll be there in fifteen.” you let out a breath in relief, but before you could thank steve, he’d hung up the phone. “guess it’s just you and me.” you mumbled quietly at the spider.

after what felt like an eternity you heard keys rattle, the front door opening and closing and footsteps in the hallway. “y/n?” you heard steve call out.

“in the kitchen!” you exclaimed. while waiting for steve, you hadn’t taken your eyes off the spider once, it was still in the exact same spot next to the kitchen island. you still didn’t waver when you heard the door to the kitchen open.

steve looked around the kitchen to find you folded up on the kitchen counter next to the sink. he tried to contain his laughter as he closed the door behind him, “alright scaredy cat, where’s this spider you’re talking about.”

you breathed out, still keeping your eyes on the spider as you pointed at it. “right there.” steve looked to where you were pointing, “why’s there an orange..?”

you glanced at him, “i tried to kill it.” steve tore his eyes away from the orange to look at you, a chuckle falling from his lips, “what? with an orange?”

“i panicked!!” you exclaimed, glancing between the spider and steve, “i- i didn’t know what to do and this was the first thing that came to mind!”

another laugh escaped his lips, “you’re being serious?”

“yes, i’m being serious! why are you laughing?”

“it’s an orange?!”

“don’t be a hater?? at least i tried!”

“alright, alright.” steve held up his hands as he gave in “okay, let’s get the little guy.” he breathed out, running a hand through his hair before grabbing the empty glass from the counter and slowly walking over towards the spider.

“be careful!” you whisper shouted at him, but he waved you off. “it’s just a spider, i got this— woah!” he exclaimed, taking a couple steps back again. “it’s actually really big, i didn’t think it was gonna be this big.”

you raise your brows at him, “just, i don’t know, stamp on it, or something.”

steve shook his head, “i’m not gonna kill—“ but before he finished his sentence he jumped backwards, “jesus fucking christ, it’s crawling towards me.”

“i thought you weren’t afraid of spiders?” you sat up straighter, trying to find the spider steve was now almost running away from. “i’m not afraid of spiders.”

“well, it kinda looks like you are!” you swallowed, anxiously looking around and eventually finding it indeed crawling towards where steve was standing, “just place the glass over it!”

“i’m trying!”

“steve! it’s getting closer, be quick!” you shouted at each other as you watched steve move closer to the spider, but each time he did, he’d chicken out and step back. “y/n, i told you, i’m trying! shit, it’s coming closer!”

“steve!! the glass!”

“i know! i—“

steve’s sentence got cut off as you heard a crunch. you closed your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes. the silence grew as steve slowly turned to look at you and whispered, “i think i killed it.” you changed your position on the counter, your legs now dangling off. “you think you killed it?”

steve swallowed, nodding as he glanced down. he was stood with his legs wide, one foot in front of the other, “yeah, i mean, i think i stepped on it.”

you carefully hopped off the counter, slowly walking over towards steve. you glanced from his face to his feet, “hey, at least you’re still wearing your shoes.” you joked, wanting to lighten the mood.

“yeah…” he mumbled, carefully lifting his foot, finding the spider, now squashed, on the floor. you closed your eyes in disgust, “okay, gross, i’m not looking at that.”

steve chuckled softly, “i’ll clean it up.” he placed both his hands on your arms to carefully move you to the side. “thank you.” you spoke quietly. while you waited with your eyes closed, steve grabbed a paper towel from the counter to wipe the squashed spider from the floor. “alright, it’s gone.” he spoke just as he threw it in the trash can.

you opened your eyes to see steve standing in front of you and you let out a huge breath of relief, “we survived.” you smiled softly, steve returning a similar one immediately, “yeah we did.”

you finally let your eyes go over him, noticing his hair was disheveled and he was wearing a red sweatshirt paired with grey sweatpants. you lightly tilted your head as you looked back up to meet his eyes, “did i wake you up when i first called you tonight?”

steve raised his brows, never failing to be amazed by how well you knew him, “yeah, you did, but it’s fine.” he waved you off. you frowned, taking a step closer so you could wrap your arms around his waist, “i’m sorry.”

he smiled sweetly at you, “don’t worry about it, sweets.” he placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes went over your features, “it doesn’t matter what time it is, i’ll always be there to save you from a spider.”

you pressed your lips together, trying to contain a smile as you felt a small blush creeping upon your cheeks, “you were also scared though.”

steve playfully rolled his eyes, “pfffff, no i wasn’t.” he spoke as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you closer against him, resting his chin on the top of your head.

#steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #fluff #stranger things au #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem

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chukys-mouthguard · 4 months

Text

What if?

Genre: fluff

Word count: 3,229 words

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt

Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series

“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.

“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”

You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.

You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.

You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.

Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.

“The typical routine. Start at Tucker’s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.

“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.

“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.

As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.

He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.

Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.

“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”

As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”

You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.

“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.

Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.

“Fuck!”

Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.

The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.

You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.

Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”

You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.

Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-

Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.

His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”

You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.

He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.

He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.

“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.

“Listen.”

Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.

“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”

#i cannot with this man #told myself tkachuk was my one and only #but here we are #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nyr

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fastandcarlos · 4 months

Text

Not Without You : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: filled with alcohol, carlos could almost fall asleep, but there's one very important thing that's missing for him

Your head shook as you walked into the apartment, kicking Carlos’ shoes out of the way that he had left in the middle of the hallway. You want to be mad at him, but you can’t, placing them out of the way. There’s a faint light coming from the living room as you walk in, noticing a figure laid out across the sofa.

“Damn Carlos,” you snigger underneath your breath, placing your phone down before walking over to him. You knelt down just beside his head, brushing the hair out of his face. The smell of beer hit you as soon as you got close to him, the sign of a good night for Carlos as he went out drinking with a few of his friends. He was fast asleep, chest pressed into the sofa, completely unaware of you.

His keys and his phone had been discarded on the floor in his sleepy, tipsy state, which you quickly picked up and put on the coffee table to keep them safe. His shirt had a slight stain on it, knowing how incapable Carlos was at eating anything once he had just a single drink inside of him.

Your attention then turned to the man before you, lips parted, hands tucked in slightly to the sleeves of his jumper, feeling your heart pound with the adoration you had for Carlos hitting you hard. Your hand moved across his cheek, feeling his stubble tickle against the pad of your thumb as you try your best not to disturb him.

However, as you go to press a kiss to the top of his head before leaving him to rest, you end up doing exactly what you had tried your best not to do. You hear your name followed by the feeling of a hand around your wrist to keep you.

“When did you get here?” Carlos groggily asks you, slowly opening his eyes and flinching at the light. “Have I been asleep for long?”

“It’s almost three, I can’t imagine you’ve been asleep for long looking at the state of you,” you teased, taking a seat just beside where Carlos laid on the sofa. “Looks like you and the boys all must’ve had a good time, I don’t think I even want to ask what you all got up to together.”

Carlos stretches his hand out, craving for the feeling of your own intertwined with his. You do as he requests, sniggering as he lazily moves, huffing in discomfort as he rolls to face you and be able to face you on his side.

“I had a much better time then you did at work I imagine, are you alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” you smile, offering Carlos a reassuring look. Even tipsy, he still cares, it’s by far one of your favourite things about him. “Do you want me to let you go back to sleep for a bit?”

“No,” he immediately responded, tightening his grip on you slightly. “You’re not allowed to leave me, you can only kiss me.”

You did as Carlos asked, closing the distance between the two of you. Carlos’ free hand cupped against the side of your face to bring you in, keeping you in position. Your hands rested against his chest to steady yourself as you forgot about the taste of beer that lingered on his lips for a moment and instead focused on savouring the feeling of Carlos’ touch against your skin.

After a few moments Carlos pulls away, but doesn’t let you move too far away from him. “I can smell coffee on you baby.”

“And I can smell beer on you, so I guess we’re even,” you teased in reply, dreading to think how many coffees you’d had in order to keep yourself awake. “You should really get some sleep now Carlos, I’ll be through to join you shortly.”

“I’m not moving,” he huffed, folding his arms across his chest, tapping the tiny space beside him on the sofa, inviting you to join him.

“I’m going to sort myself out,” you told him again, pushing yourself up off of the ground, using the sofa to help you. Once again, Carlos’ hand reaches out for you, but this time he’s not quick enough, reluctantly watching you walk away and head into the bathroom so you could sort yourself out and get into your cosy bed.

You were lost in your own little world as you started to get yourself ready for bed, you had a makeup wipe in hand, hair tied back as you wiped away the effects of the day. It almost didn’t seem fair how Carlos was awake after a night of fun with his friends, whilst you returned home off the back of a twelve hour shift, barely able to move anymore.

Once everything was sorted, you tidied up the bathroom, and the mess that Carlos had left in there too after he arrived home. You were ready to sleep, and for a long time too, safe in the knowledge that you’d have the bed to yourself tonight, with Carlos stubbornly unwilling to pry himself off of the sofa.

Or so you thought, as you opened the door.

“What the hell Carlos?”

Your hand grabbed onto the bathroom door in order to steady yourself, heart racing at the sight of the figure who stood as close to the doorway as he possibly could. There was a weak smile on his face as he looked blankly back at you, not realising just how much he had managed to scare you.

You reached out and pushed gently against Carlos’ chest, “what happened to not moving off of the sofa, you gave me such a fright.”

You wanted to yell and shout, but Carlos’ exhausted eyes soon stopped you. He leant against the doorway, too tired to find the strength in his legs to keep himself upright. You could only shake your head as he frowned at you, surprised you weren’t expecting him to have moved when you went away.

“The sofa was nice, but it’s not as nice as being able to lay in bed with you,” he softly speaks, keeping his voice as convincing as he can. “It’s not the same without you baby.”

You were left stunned by Carlos’ sudden confession, despite how drunk he was, you could tell by his voice just how much he meant exactly what he was saying to you, there was no doubt in your mind that he really wanted to sleep with you.

The two of you had so many moments when you were apart, that Carlos always promised himself to make the most of the ones when you were together. He made the most of every second, and made sure that every second was spent with his full attention on you. You often reassured Carlos that you understood the demand of his job, but he never took it for granted. He’d trained himself, no matter how tired, drunk or stressed he was to make sure that he still made the most of having you there with him. You never expected any of it from Carlos, and he never expected anything in return for the kindness that he showed you too, it was all that Carlos just wanted to do for you. The little moments were the ones that he treasured the most, particularly when he was able to fall asleep with you.

The closeness that you shared was the envy of others, they wished they could be as tentative and selfless as Carlos, or as sympathetic as you were. You both sacrificed a lot to make your relationship work, but the rewards at the end of it always proved to be more than worth it.

“You didn’t really want to get up, did you?” You asked as you took a hold of Carlos’ hand to help him to steady himself.

“You weren’t there,” he protested, shrugging his shoulders back at you, expecting you to be able to figure that out yourself. “There was just this cold, empty space beside me that some mean woman decided to ignore rather than cuddle up with me in.”

You had to give Carlos credit, if he was good at one thing, it was his ability to try and guilt you in order to get his own way. He knew exactly what to say to get you to do as he wanted, which was why he couldn’t help but smile when he found himself sat on the edge of your bed, watching as you looked through your drawers to try and find yourself a fresh pair of pyjamas to wear.

He’s lost in a moment of disbelief as he studies you, asking the same questions that he’s been asking for years, wondering if maybe today would finally give him the answer. How did he get so lucky? When did life get so perfect? What was it about him that drew you in and made you decide Carlos was your forever?

The click of fingers in front of his face snapped Carlos back into his reality, feeling the bed dip beside him. Your hand rested against Carlos’ thigh, squeezing against it gently. He responds by throwing his arm over your shoulders, pulling you down so that you’re both laid in the middle of your bed.

“Did you like what you saw there Sainz?” You enquired, referring back to you changing in front of him a few moments ago. There were no words, but as his smile slightly turned up, you knew exactly what Carlos was trying to tell you. “Come on, I think the both of us are on the verge of being overtired now.”

“Much better,” Carlos whispered to himself as the two of you pushed up and then pulled the duvet over you both. He could hear your giggles, unaware that you heard him, but with how drunk he was, nothing that Carlos did was quiet.

“You’re going to be such a giant pain in the morning,” you huffed as you watched Carlos relax as soon as his head hit the pillow. “You and hangovers are never a good combination for me.”

You knew all too well that Carlos was never going to remember any of this in the morning, if you told him how clingy he was or how needy he was for you to share the bed with him, he never would believe you. He could never imagine himself being so embarrassing, refusing to take on the role of soppy, emotional boyfriend.

After making himself comfortable, Carlos’ complete attention turned to you. His grip on you was incredibly strong as he pulled you into his hold, tying his legs in with your own. You were much colder than he was, still recovering from the chill in the air as you returned home, leaving Carlos running his hands along your body in order to try and warm you up a little bit.

“You’re not allowed to move for the rest of the night,” Carlos told you as he pressed a lazy kiss against the top of your head, “you’re mine forever now.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to escape even if I tried,” you joked, barely able to move in amongst Carlos’ tight embrace.

“I love you.”

“Carlos,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest. “I love you too,” you smiled, pausing for a moment to make sure that he was listening, wondering what world he was daydreaming in beside you. You still knew he wouldn’t remember what you had said, but the two of you had always promised that if one of you said ‘I love you,’ then the other always said it back.

“Be quiet now, it’s sleep time.”

You scoffed at how quick he was to shut you down, as if you had not been the one trying to get him to sleep half an hour earlier. How he’d finally decided it was time for him to sleep so now that meant that you had to be the one to go to sleep too. You could only shake your head, but seeing as Carlos had decided it was time to sleep, having not listened to you, you decided to test his boundaries.

“Do you really want to sleep now?” You asked, moving your hand down Carlos’ chest so that it settled just above his waistband.

You could feel his body tense up, he wasn’t drunk enough to miss what you were implying. “You said that I stunk of beer earlier.”

“And you said I stank of coffee,” you reminded him, propping yourself up to get a better look at him. “But I guess if I smell of coffee then you’ll just want me to move my hand back up here, won’t you?”

Carlos’ head shook as your eyes looked at him expectedly, “please don’t do this to me, it’s not fair baby.”

Before you know it, a pair of hands grip at your waist and turn you over so that Carlos is now the one hovering over the top of you. A shiver run downs your spine at how close he lays to you, not expecting Carlos to get so close. He can’t help it though, you’re like a magnet pulling him in, and the second that you drop the hint, he’s there and desperate to make the most of the situation.

“Carlos…please.”

It never fails to make him smile when he hears you whisper his name, followed by a shaky breath. He leans down and presses a kiss against your lips, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He tugs lightly, feeling your hands hold against his waist to try and pull him even closer towards him. Once you’re happy with where he is, you grab at the hem of his shirt and begin to lift it up, your kiss broken momentarily so that you could discard it to your bedroom floor.

“I love you,” Carlos repeats again, meeting your eyes as he pulls away from you.

You nod back at him, admiring the fiery passion that’s staring down at you. “I love you more,” you smirked, “why don’t you let me show you just how much I love you?”

“Baby…I am all yours.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 reaction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #formula 1 fic #formula one #f1 fic

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thef1diary · 10 months

Text

Keep Going | C. Sainz

Requested on wattpad: “hey could you write a chapter about Carlos making you finish over and over again on his tongue and fingers?”

Warnings: 18+ smut, no plot just straight up filthy smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, slight degradation, praise, slight humiliation (barely)

Pairing: carlos x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k+

Note: this is probably the filthiest shit I wrote, loved every second of it.

Your legs were shaking now, still resting over Carlos' shoulders as he continued to tease your pussy with his fingers.

He was still fully clothed, only having his sleeves rolled up while you were completely stripped naked. Your gaze couldn't waver away from him, but you couldn't help but feel humiliated based on the vast difference of your attires—or well, your lack of clothing.

"C'mon mi amor, this is just the beginning," he looked at you with a sultry smile for a brief moment before slipping his finger back in your cunt.

Your hands grabbed the sheets around you, trying to ground yourself as you thought about how the rest of the night would go. This was only your second orgasm, and Carlos wasn't in the mood to stop.

Without a warning, he quickened his movements, slipping in a second and even a third finger right away. Your thighs threatened to snap shut together as the pleasure radiated through you but Carlos didn't let that happen.

Still maintaining his brutal pace, he used his free hand to lift one of your legs off his shoulder before pushing it up towards your chest. "Hold it there," he instructed, telling you to hold both your legs so he was given more freedom to do as he pleased.

His fingers curled at the same time as his lips reached your clit. Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he brushed the nerve with minimal, barely there touches.

You whined in response, wanting more. "Carlos, more please," you didn't mind resorting to begging knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist your pleads.

He quickly retracted his mouth, but before you could protest, his other palm made contact with your swollen clit. You bucked your hips up in response, a low moan leaving your lips.

"You're going to take what I give you." He brought his palm down once more, this time a little harder than the last. He kept his fingers resting on your clit, dragging down before pinching it between his fingers.

The fingers inside your pussy easily slip in and out, your wetness dripping down to the bedsheet underneath. You struggled to keep a strong grip on your thighs, sweat building up threatening your hands to slip away.

But the thought of presenting yourself to him, showing him your cunt so he could tease it endlessly before making you finish over and over again was just the motivation you needed.

He continued his brutal pace until you were writhing as another orgasm washed over you. The grip on your thighs eased away as your hands found their way into Carlos' hair.

Resting your feet flat on the bed, you had unintentionally closed them together as the pleasure consumed you. Carlos had lapped up your cum while his fingers slowed down but never stopped moving.

Catching your movement, he removed his mouth away letting you close your legs tighter. But he didn't move his fingers away, letting them reach deeper in your pussy, making you moan louder.

He let you bask in post orgasmic relief but it was very brief as you realized Carlos wasn't going to stop moving his fingers. That breath of relief turned into a cry of frustration as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

"Spread your legs, puta, I'm not done with you yet," he instructed as he pressed his thumb against your clit while he removed his fingers from you.

"Carlos," you cried as a tear slipped down your cheek, his other hand was quick to brush it away as he looked at you with a smirk. You didn’t register his command until he slapped the back of your thigh, forcing your legs to spread.

"What happened, love? Too sensitive?" He teased as he pressed harder, slowly rubbing your clit in small circles.

He slid his thumb down, gathering your wetness before teasingly pressing in your hole but not inserting his finger in yet. Using his other hand, he separated your folds before swiping his tongue across your cunt.

Placing loud, wet, filthy kisses on your cunt, you squirmed under his touch. You didn’t know whether to pull away from his touch or press against it. But you did know one thing, you loved this more than you thought you would.

Your eyes rolled back as the waves of pleasure took you under, your mouth hanging open but the sounds leaving it were deaf to your own ears. You didn’t think you could cum this fast right after your last orgasm but you enjoyed riding the high until it became too unbearable.

Carlos loved every second of watching you lose your mind in the depths of pleasure, and he loved it even more knowing that he was the cause of it.

He watched as your eyes closed, but he was quick to comment on it, “eyes on me, cariño”

You were glad you listened, because the sight in front of you would’ve made you cum alone. Carlos was already looking at you, but his fingers had spread your cunt out again. What he did next made you arch your hips up, chasing the pleasure he was giving you.

You watched the bead of saliva drip down from his lips onto your slit, and he watched as you felt it sliding down.

His fingers made his way back inside your used cunt, spreading his spit. He pulled you closer with his other hand as you attempted to squirm away, “I thought you didn’t want me to stop, don’t try to move away now,” he spoke, reminding you of your pleads for him to keep going when he teased you but left you hanging.

He held you in such a position where you were unable to move further, but as he continued his finger movements, you began grinding against his palm.

"That's it baby, you're doing so well, just a little more,” Carlos praised you, noticing how his words affected you.

"I don't think I can,” you grasped onto his arm but you didn’t exactly want him to pull away, you just held it to ground yourself.

"I know you can, I won't stop until you can't think,” he stated in a tone of finality.

He pulled out a few more orgasms out of you, however you don’t even remember exactly how many more Carlos convinced you for since he kept saying “one more.”

He left your cunt bruised in all the right ways, making you feel like putty as you quite literally melted in between the bedsheets. Carlos joined you after he cleaned you up, moving you higher up on the bed to avoid touching the wet spot.

“You did so well for me, mi amor,” Carlos muttered in your ear but lightly chuckled as he realized you had already dozed off.

#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #f1 x reader #f1blr #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #f1 smut #smut #f1 imagines #f1 fandom

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slight-gaming-addict · 4 months

Note

Feel free to reject this, but can you write the housewardens x a reader with self harm scars? Maybe something like them comforting the reader or getting them to open up.

battle scars

masterlist | join the taglist | request rules | ko-fi

housewardens reactions to seeing your self harm scars

characters: leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, vil schoenheit, malleus draconia

warnings: mentions of self harm, please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable, angst to comfort, crying, azul's is extra angsty, i didn't do all the housewardens i hope that's okay anon<3

𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒂 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓

You wake up suddenly to light shining into the room. Slowly opening your eyes, you find the sun shining through the window. You groan and bury your face in Leona's chest, who's peacefully sleeping next to you.

You're about to fall back asleep when you feel the warmth of skin on one of your arms. Your eyes flick back open to see the shirt sleeve you were sleeping in must have ridden up your arm and is lying on top of Leona's.

You quickly bring your arm back and pull the sleeve back down to cover it. Glancing up at Leona, you let out a breath when it doesn't seem he's awake to have seen anything.

Sometimes you wish you could just delete the scars on you. They never bring happy memories, always there as a reminder of the mistakes you made in the past. You hated them and just wish you could erase them permanently. It's the reason why you wear long sleeves all the time. You can't stand for anyone to judge you.

Leona's always teasing you for wearing long sleeves all the time, but you can't bring yourself to stop, just wanting to cover up and stay hidden as long as possible.

You settle back into Leona when you start to feel sleep overtake you, but are startled awake again when you hear a grumble next to you.

"You shouldn't cover up," you stare up at Leona, whose eyes are still closed, wondering if you were hearing things. It's when his eyes flick open that you're sure he said it.

"What are you talking about?" you question him, trying to act like nothing's wrong and you don't know what he's saying. One side of his lips twitches upwards, letting out a small scoff.

"Why do you always wear long sleeves?" you're now fully aware of where the conversation is going, and you would do anything to not be talking about it.

He seems to notice your hesitance in answering the question, and instead of pushing it, he lets out a small sigh and closes his eyes again.

You're left to question exactly what he knows and how he could have found out before you hear him mutter one more thing.

"You shouldn't have to hide who you are; scars tell you what you went through and how you overcame it, it's nothing you should be ashamed of." With those words, he falls back asleep like nothing happened, and you're left to wonder how he found out and how long he's known, but you know he does have a point and as he brings you closer to him in his sleep, you think maybe you don't have to hide anymore. All thanks to the sleepy lion lying next to you.

𝑨𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐

You don't necessarily like big events, but you figured it was only to support Azul, so you let yourself be a part of it. That eventually turns out to be your worst mistake.

The guest list for the event includes everyone Azul could possibly get ahold of. It's obvious there's an elaborate business plan in place, but you don't know the exact details, so you decide to keep to yourself mostly.

It's not until you hear certain voices behind you that your body tenses up and goes rigid. No, it can't be. You slowly move to the other side of the table to get a better look.

One glance at the people and tears start forming in your eyes. You quickly get as far away as possible and eventually find the bathroom, tears clouding your vision.

You look in the mirror, and all your worst insecurities start floating to the surface, making more tears roll down your cheeks. You roll up your sleeves, still staring into the mirror, and can clearly see the deep scars on your arms, even with blurry eyes.

Through the whole ordeal, you don't hear the door being knocked on and the soft voice on the other side. All you can do is stare into the mirror, flashbacks coming back so violently that you would have fallen to the floor if not for the arms you feel around you.

A familiar scent overwhelms you, and you immediately know who it is, but you still don't have the strength to stop crying. You feel yourself slowly brought to the ground, sitting on Azul's lap with his arms around you, practically crushing yourself to his chest.

You don't know how long you stay there on the bathroom floor, but eventually, the warmth of Azul's body and the hands rubbing your back help you calm down. He doesn't force you to say anything, just keeps cradling you, but your voice starts talking before your brain can tell you not to.

You haven't told this to anyone before, but the way he's holding you makes you feel the safest, and you tell him everything. You tell him about how the people you saw at the event used to make fun of how you looked and gave you the deepest insecurities about yourself, which led to the scars covering your arms.

Azul's grip on you tightens at some parts of the story, but then immediately loosens as his hands start to move over the scars on your arms, gently going over them with his thumb.

You don't know how long you stay like that until your mind wanders to the event still going on, and you quickly sit up, accidentally scaring Azul out of the state he was in.

"The event—" You begin to speak, but Azul quickly shakes his head and shushes you.

"Don't worry about it, the event's completely fine. I was more worried about you." You eventually return to the event, Azul not leaving your side once, and you don't see the people that caused your bathroom meltdown… or either of the Leeches for that matter.

𝑽𝒊𝒍 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒕

You didn't expect it to happen so suddenly. One moment you're sweating your ass off in gym, and then the next thing you know you're in a cool bed, with a concerned Vil hovering over you.

"What happened?" You attempt to sit up when you're hit with a wave of dizziness and are led back to lay down by Vil's hands.

"Don't move, you passed out on the field from heat exhaustion." You visibly see how distraught he is, and can't help but feel guilty by putting him in this position.

You feel yourself shiver slightly from the temperature of the room, and move to put your hands over your arms for some kind of heat. It's when you feel the smoothness of skin instead of the fabric of a shirt that you realize you're not wearing the sweater you usually wore.

You try your best to inconspicuously move your arms under the blanket, but you see the way Vil barely glances down at your arms, and tries his best to try to seem interested in something on the wall in front of him.

It's when he makes eye contact with you that you know. You break the eye contact, staring down at the sheets under you, not wanting to face him. You can't even begin to wonder what he would think about the darkest years of your life, forever a reminder and etched onto your body.

You don't notice the tears running down your cheeks until you feel Vil gently wiping them off your face.

"Please don't cry, pretty." Your heart clenches at the pet name, like it has many times before when he'd use it. The gentle tone in his voice makes more involuntary tears fall and no matter how hard you try, they won't stop.

He shushes you as he climbs into the bed next to you, bringing your body closer to him. The heat of his body starts to calm you, and you get as close to him as you could possibly get, not wanting to let go.

When he doesn't leave your side for the remainder of the day, and gets everything you need and want, you know you found your happy place and you never want to leave.

𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂

You don't notice how late it's gotten until you hear rustling next to you, and a familiar figure takes a seat next to you. You didn't mean to stay out here this long, you got too lost in the feeling of the wind across your skin.

You know that Malleus is always here, so it makes sense that he would eventually show up, but you were planning on leaving before he got here. You don't think you can handle him seeing the scars that shown all up your forearms.

You start to stand, muttering something about not wanting to bother him when his arm shoots up to stop you, grabbing your wrist. The grip he holds is so gentle, not even using enough force to harm a butterfly, yet you still find yourself flinching away from his grasp.

He's visibly startled from your reaction as his arm shoots backwards away from you. It breaks you to see his reaction as he moved even further away from you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He starts apologizing, but you stop him before he can get any further.

"Please don't apologize, it's not your fault, it's entirely mine." You see Malleus' expression go from worry to confusion as he listens to you.

His gaze falls onto your arm, and you quickly cross your arms over your chest, wincing slightly at the dull burn you feel. Before you know it he's back in front of you, worry back on his expression.

"You're hurt." You can't stop him from carefully grabbing your arm and turning it around to look at it. "Who hurt you?" You want to cry from the innocence of the question, and can't stop the tears from actually falling.

You end up telling him everything and how you've been feeling like you're just bothering everyone with your problems. He listens intently to you, his thumb rubbing over your hand as he holds your wrist.

"Mortal lives are already so short as they are, please don't make yours any shorter, love." He brings one of his hands up to tilt your chin to face him. "Tell me if you're ever feeling like this, alright?" You nod with watery eyes as he brings you into his chest, engulfing you with his scent and warmth.

buy me a coffee ♡

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loversmantra · 4 months

Text

FREE FALLIN' LOVE ADDICT!

synopsis. satoru's fingers look their best soaking wet.

content. gojo satoru x cisfem!reader. smut. minors do not interact. lowkey... househusband satoru and his working wife. making out. fingering. cum eating. drooling. size difference. not explicitly stated but this definitely reads as sub!satoru. foul language. "gojo satoru has the biggest praise kink in existence," i say from the top of my hill. he's kinda pathetic in this tbh but so am i so it's fine.

title from poplar st by glass animals

wc. 2.3k

message from noe. this started as something very different, very wholesome... then it became this. i was fighting demons. sorry. also this is lowkey my first time doing smut be nice to me pls. anyways @neptuneblue dis one is for you twiiin

satoru’s hands are much bigger than yours.

you’ve known this for a long time, of course. as a teen, he never missed an opportunity to remind you you were smaller than him: whether that be by holding something out of your reach or using that creature of an appendage to cover your entire face and muffle your complaints.

he didn’t outgrow his antics. his hands did, however, get even bigger.

but it’s one thing to know, to have the theoretic knowledge of it in the back of your mind. it’s another to have indisputable proof of it: his huge hand wrapped around your own, both warming it and dwarfing it.

satoru’s had his hands on you since the day you first met. rough, teasing — and later loving. soft. and you’re thinking about them a lot these days. you’re thinking of his hands everywhere.

his longs fingers wrapped around your throat. snug around your waist, tight on your hips. deep inside you. you’re thinking about it, a lot.

the wonderful contrast of cherry red flush on his cheeks, down his neck, down his heaving chest. the heat of his breath on your lips, crazed, feverish, delirious. wide smile, all teeth, as he puts his fingers on his tongue and sucks. baby blues rolling back, away from the conscious world and into something he keeps on a tight, tight leash. he’s so beautiful when he gets like this. you want him.

you’re thinking about it so much, these days. you’re thinking about him.

you’re thinking today might be the boiling point.

you’re thinking satoru looks way too good in this outfit… and his hand is just so much bigger than yours.

your workday ended with a text from your beloved, urging you to hurry home, because he had a lil’ surprise for you. knowing satoru, you were fully expecting to find him laying on the bed naked and oiled up, but the sight you were greeted with when you arrived home was very different — though no less delectable.

the "surprise" itself: satoru in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you. he turned to face you when the door closed softly.

and while this might seem strange to anyone — anyone except you — when paired with his text telling you to hurry, you knew exactly where his intentions lied. you’ve been experiencing him long enough.

he wanted to seduce you. and fuck him, it worked.

not like you needed much help there: you’ve been thinking about jumping his bones, among other things, twenty-four seven, for days. you’re wrapped around his finger. head over heels. thoroughly whipped.

but to be fair, who could blame you?

briefly, you pondered. how wonderful it is, you thought, to have this man taking care you after a long day. how wonderful it is, to be loved by such a cosmic being. to come home and find the house clean. to come home and smell dinner cooking.

you pondered — but not for long. something else drew your attention away from his loving acts of service.

black slacks stretched around his toned legs, glorious ass on full display — you could have bitten him right there. his pristine white shirt was tight on his torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he expertly chopped vegetables. his sleeves — struggling to keep his biceps in check, it almost seemed — were rolled up to his elbows. displaying his hands and forearms perfectly. damn him.

to top it all off: an apron tight around his slim waist. picture perfect househusband.

he looked good. good enough to eat.

and you could tell he thought the same of you in your tailored suit. you saw his eyes darken from all the way across the room.

this was all part of his plan, of course.

he smiled. washed his hands, didn’t wipe away the droplets. he raked his eyes all over you, dark, wanting.

“hi, baby,” he purred.

you took off your shoes hastily, hurried to his side, pushed him against the counter and pushed your lips against his…

…to end up here, dress shirt wide open, tongue down his throat, arms pinned to the kitchen island by his large, large hands. his poor apron forgotten across the room.

there isn’t an inch of free space between the two of you — satoru simply refuses to let you drift away. you can feel his impatience all over him, little whines escaping his lips that you drink eagerly, narrow hips pressed to the furniture as if to give himself relief. you won’t have it, you refuse. his relief will be you or nothing.

“how was your day, satoru?” you smile against him.

he returns it, body shivering at his name falling from your lips. his hot mouth trails down to your shoulder, to leave no part of you untouched, untasted. “missed you,” he whispers with a push of his hips against you.

“hm, is that it?”

a hand leaves yours to flatten on your belly — he pushes you down easily and takes his rightful place, right on top of you. white hair tickles your skin as he makes his way back up until… “yeah,” he grins, eyes so dark you can barely breathe. his smile is all teeth. “that’s it.”

without your permission your thighs move to rub against one another. it doesn’t escape him. you try to turn your head away, to flee from his teasing. he follows. he always does.

“look at me, pretty,” he bites into your neck. “you want something from me?”

you do — you want his fingers knuckles deep inside you. and the absolute best part is, you know how bad he wants it, too, to see you come undone with his touch. you see it, you feel it in his every move. the need.

you feel it in the tight grip his hand has on your own, on your waist to keep you pressed against the marble. in the very, very slight tremor of his thighs close to yours, kept tightly under his control. in the tensing, untensing of his every muscle — restraint he’s giving his all to maintain. in the glorious pink of his cheeks, the sweat already accumulating on his flawless skin. he wants it. he wants you to ask for it.

but your satoru’s been quite spoiled lately. he’s gotten used to getting his way every time, little prince. it wouldn’t hurt him to work for it. you want to make him work for it.

you don’t answer him. instead, you keep him busy with your tongue tracing his lips, one hand trailing your nails down the soft hair of his undercut — earning you another full body shiver — while with the other you unbuckle your belt on your own.

it’s easy, after that, to shove your hand under your panties. satoru pushes himself off you, to better watch.

you make a show of it, just for him. making sure to really coat your fingers with your slick. two tight circles on your clit aren’t enough to relieve the pressure, but you trust him to come around and take care of it — he’s so good at taking care of you. you throw your head back with a soft whine, arch yourself into him, and in the hot air you share with him your hand comes back up, fingers glistening.

he looks jealous. already, he’s moving — moving to take your hand in his and taste — but you won’t have it. before he can do anything about it, you pop your fingers into your mouth, sucking yourself off them.

satoru’s eyebrows knit briefly, but his smile widens. his breaths are reduced to pathetic, shallow pants. if you push him a little more, will you get him drooling, tongue hanging out like a puppy? you bet you could. but today isn’t the day to find out. you want his fucking fingers.

he doesn’t let you think about it any longer. “can i?” he rasps, leaning down. his tongue runs over his teeth.

you don’t think about it. you nod your head, and he dives.

licking into your mouth desperately, moaning like he's having the time of his life. it’s so easy to meet him halfway, to suck his tongue in your mouth, to swallow all his little whimpers — so good, baby, fuck — you want it all, so you take it all.

he only stops to rest against your mouth and whine, “you taste so good, i wish you could eat yourself out.”

he catches you completely off guard. you have no answer to that, so brilliantly, you say, “huh?”

he noses at your cheek and explains, “i want to eat your cum straight from your mouth.”

and that’s enough of that — you’ve run out of patience. you think you’ve wrecked him enough, in any case, to hear such things spewing out of his mouth. you feel him throbbing. you are, too.

“can’t have that, angel,” you pant against him. “but you can make me cum.”

you can feel his smile. “i thought you’d never ask.”

his fingers slide down your body, under your pants, taking the same route yours did. only it’s much harder for him — they’re much bigger.

satoru wastes no time. the stretch is immediate, big finger pushing into you slowly. your hand knitted in his hair tugs him down to you. his moan is even louder than yours.

he stays there for a moment, savoring it, licking at your lips, your neck, the underside of your jaw — moaning like an animal in heat, like he could cry from the relief your hot walls hugging his fingers bring.

cherry red on his cheeks, down his neck and the glimpse of his heaving chest his shirt gives you. hot pants fanning your lips. crazed. feverish. delirious. wide smile, canines glimmering in the light. oh, you’ve been waiting for this. you want more of him, you need more of him. your hands move against your will, almost tearing open his clothing. a huff of laughter warms your cheek.

but your love is as impatient as you.

a second finger pumps into you, slow and steady. you mewl, and with your encouragement satoru rises on his elbow to increase the pace.

“feel good, sweetheart?” he pants.

you couldn’t keep quiet if you tried.

“yeah,” you smile. “i feel fucking good.”

then you sink your teeth straight into his neck and delight at the wild buck of his hips, the sinful cry he gifts you.

his entire body moves with him. his hips grind into you, shameless, desperate, following his hand’s movement — and so does his tongue, fucking into your mouth like he wants you everywhere, wants to be inside you everywhere, wants to bury himself into you. drool drops down his chin. you drink it.

every beautiful sound that comes from him, every whimper, every harsh breath, every high-pitched moan is rewarded with a soft murmur of yours — so good, angel, so good for me, so good! his pace increases, his bicep is bulging, his back tenses, his eyes cross, he’s so close, you’ve got him right where you want him.

the pressure in your lower belly grows stronger with every expert stroke. he touches everywhere, a tender caress pumped into you by the strengths of his arm and pelvis together. mimicked perfectly by his tongue tugging at your lips, stroking your own, invading your mouth. you feel it grow, grow, until—

you come undone right there on his hand, in your pants, with a loud cry of his name, digging his nails into his shoulders — in retaliation, and partly to stave of his own orgasm, you’re sure of it, his bites the soft flesh of your neck, a wail dying in the back of his throat.

you come down together, chests rising and falling against one another, hot breaths warming the air around you. he’s still throbbing against your thighs, fingers slowed to shallow thrusting, as if he couldn’t bear to let the moment end just yet. you force him to still by smothering his hand with your thighs.

satoru makes his way back to your lips, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses and a singular bite on your cheek, one you answer with a giggle.

“that was a good one, baby,” he says against your mouth. “how many more can i give you?”

“depends. how many more can you take?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he smiles. his hand resurfaces from your underwear, soaked, glistening. he takes a moment to rub his fingers together, admire the slick, the feel of it all over his skin. you take the time he gives you to admire him.

he’s so beautiful, when he gets like this.

his hand rises, heading for his face. your gut clenches, thighs rubbing together in anticipation, a deep breath filling your lungs—

his tongue lolls out and his soaked fingers come to take their rightful place right onto it. his lips close around his hand. his cheeks hollow as he sucks.

baby blues rolling to the back of his head, satoru trembles, wracked with a full body shudder and a moan so sinfully loud you swear it echoes against the walls. his throbbing cock rubs on your thigh.

he allows himself one, two, three finger-deep thrusts into his mouth, practically fucking himself, gagging on his own hand, putting on the most wonderful show for you. just to make sure there’s not a droplet left.

then his fingers leave his mouth with a loud pop! and he looks back down at you. crazed. feverish. delirious. eyes so dark you can barely breathe.

looking good enough to eat.

later on, after a lot more cum from both parties and a well-deserved bath, you rush into the kitchen, praying your apartment isn’t about to burn down. satoru was, after all, supposed to be making you dinner.

when you lean over the countertops, you find that the stove was never on.

#☆ — by noe #❥ — satoru #☆ — close the door #☽ — jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut

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verinarin · 5 months

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

cw // contains 2.2 penacony quest spoilers

Angst | years after he vanished, you found solace in the path of trailblaze. the day you departed from the astral express, however was the day another version of him greets you.

Traversing through the stars as a nameless was never something you see for yourself, but alas after years of escaping the pain of loosing you have found peace.

You boarded the express with a bleeding wound, yet departed with a new sense of self. Blazing the path of traiblaze has given you precious memories.

Memories that have become the solace you yearn for and now you reside on a planet far away from your hometown, Penacony.

Your heart still burns for the spirit of trailblazing, spreading the tales you’ve theard upon these past years was your way of keeping the spirit of trailblazing alive.

There’s hundreds of letters you have sent to the nameless who still traverse the sky full of stars, while you blaze paths for the younger generations to yearn to reach the glimmering stars above.

“Miss, is it true that the astral express has two conductors?,” a young boy that perched up to your lap asked.

“Well now we only have one conductor which is pom-pom and a navigator ! The astral express’ current navigator is Miss Himeko,” you smiled softly as you stroked the boy’s hair.

This is a glimpse of your life now, as the local’s beloved storyteller. You could be easily found reading a book or writing at a cafe near your house.

You heard a motherly voice searching for her son, “Now young man it seems that you mother is searching for you, better to go back to her alright,” you pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright ! Bye bye Miss Nameless,” he waved as he ran back towards his mother who offered you a thank you smile from afar.

Now you reside back at your table, a letter has found its way to you. Perhaps it was friends from the astral express, but there’s the ‘pom-pom’s signature’ stamp to be found after all.

With a smile you pressed the rim of your coffee filled cup to your lips, it’s been a while since you talked to them. As you place down your cup, a tinge of amberwood lingers in the air.

It was a scent that you found alluring years ago, it made you feel a little bit nostalgic. You close your eyes and let the tale of the past play inside your mind like a movie.

“Excuse me, Miss. Is this seat taken ?,” a voice greeted you, his voice has successfully awaken you from your daydream.

“The seat in front of me ?,” he asked as you flutter your eyes open, to reveal a man dressed in a white shirt.

The collar was unbuttoned slightly revealing a chest that harbours scars across the body, it took you seconds to tilt your head up.

You can’t really make out the man’s face, the sun that shines warmly behind him hinders you from doing so, “Yeah, the seat on your table” he chuckled, as he folded his arms.

His arms were proudly displayed against his chest, his sleeves were rolled up to display his strong arms, clean from any scars. In contrast with his chest.

“Well I’m not meeting anyone, so feel free,” you extend your hand towards the seat in front of you, letting him know that it’s alright for him to sit in front of you.

And so he did, now you could clearly study his face. He has kind eyes, rich brown in colour. His features were strong and rugged yet somehow gentle in nature. His face was decorated with salt and pepper stubble, signifying his old age.

His hair was parted in the middle, it was as long as his neck. You could tell that he cared a lot for his hair, it was well groomed, “Are you not going to ask who I am ?” he smiled as he saw you gazing through himself.

“Ah sorry for staring, you just feel familiar,” you stated honestly before brushing your hair back.

“How so ?” his eyes lingers at you, coaxing you to question more and more about him.

“Can’t tell really,” you’re not going to blabber upon the past that haunts you for so long now, would you ?

Not when you’ve grown this far.

“Heh, such a shame then,” the cadence of his voice, irks your mind. Scratches your heart in some way….

“A shame indeed,” you nodded, your fingers circling the rim of your cup as you await his reply.

“I heard you were once a nameless,” that’s a well known fact by now, at least in the area you live in.

“It was years ago but I'm glad my name still holds some fame, so do you need something from the astral express?” he will not be the first person who makes use of your past to contact the express.

“Nah, I’m just here for your audience,” he spoke, the tone was light yet somehow deep in context, shrouded in mystery.

“Who are you?” you asked the question he yearned the most, his face reflects it perfectly.

“Care to take an educated guess, Miss ?” he cocked his eyebrows as you ruminated through the possibilities.

“You still do the thing huh ?” he chuckled, his face now rested against his palm as he watches you picking apart the past and the future.

“What thing ?” you asked, he spoke those words like he knew you for years, which was odd. He’s a stranger after all.

“The thing where you’ll pout your lips slightly when you’re drowned by your thoughts,” he knew you, knew you well enough and long enough to notice these things.

“Let’s cut to the chase, don’t play games with me old man. Who are you ?” your eyes bore deep into his own, trying to pry the truth out of him.

“Funny, you used to call me that too,” he chuckles, his eyes bore no malice, just a sense of long and yearning.

You only called ‘old man' to a handful of people, but one strikes the most in this case, but it can’t be him.

You refuse it to be him.

You merely stared at him, not wanting to entertain his statement, “Fine, I’ll give out a little tip. I tend to amend things, which is why I am here now, sitting idly in front of you,”

“Amend things ? How could you amend things that are not broken ?” you questioned, the man before you was too relaxed and aloof to be talking in riddles.

“Well you’re not broken per say, but well I am,” the man merely chuckled as he looked down towards the concrete floor.

“So you want me to fix you ?” you ask, your endless pond of patience grew dry by the second.

“Close, but no,” you could see the evident smirk as he kept his gaze down.

“You’re speaking in riddles here sir, some might mistake you as a follower of the enigmata if you keep this up,” this time his eyes trained itself back to yours.

“Well aren’t you still sharp,” he mused, clearly happy that he didn’t need to elaborate on more.

“You’re not him, you can’t be him anymore,” this is a fact, even if this being was him, it is not him.

“Can’t be who ? I’ve been living countless lives before. Be specific would ya ?” the man now let his back rest against the chair, ain’t he comfortable now ?

“You know very well the life I’m talking about,” you sighed, he could be him or even a part of masked fools really.

The masked fools that’s notorious for transforming themselves into one’s beloved.

“Well say that name for old time’s sake, humour this ol’ hound,” never mind, it is him. A masked fool won’t replicate this current body that he made, he’s a stranger to you.

A foreign being.

“You’re not Gallagher, never will be him again as a matter of fact,” that type of wording was not your style to use, you felt bad for speaking those truths.

“Ouch that stings, I was him y’know,” he lips pouted, while his arms are folded against his chest. Yet his gaze still placed snugly into you.

“Past tense,” you quipped, well you felt bad about the cold demeanour, but still how would someone act in this situation ?

“Touché,” he laughed, now from his mannerisms. It reminds you of Gallagher, but he’s not him.

This man is well put, smells expensive, and it seems like he does not drink that much. When you think about it, the man before you resembles the qualities that you find attractive in a man.

As wouldn’t you know it, you told this list to Gallagher over a drink years ago.

“Let me ask you this once more, who are you ?” your stern voice was something he never listened to, but he welcomed it warmly.

“Whoever you want me to be,” he smiles, his voice sounds like he was teasing, but you know deep down that it is true.

“Why are you here ?” the question that has been clouding your mind since the reveal.

“To see through another fiction with you as my main muse,” his voice draws deeper than before.

The gravity of his statement was heavy, it made your heart stop for a mere second just to make sense of it all.

His eyes softened as he saw your shock ridden expression, your hands trembled, unsure with what to answer. He finds his way to hold them gently.

It felt nostalgic, even though the hand that held yours was not the same as before, it felt like home.

“To fabricate a new page in history, to make amends for the past, to see through another life. I’m here to live another life with you, to grow old by your side,” he continues, somehow the display of loyalty soothed your trembling hands.

“And even after death, I’ll wait for you to be reborn back into my arms, forever more,” his warmth left your hand as he stood up from his chair.

He walked towards your side, your hands now placed perfectly against your lap as he kneels before you.

“That is my reason,” he leaned down, bringing your fingertips towards his lips.

“Own my heart once more, dearest,” he begged.

The man begged for a chance once more.

#☆彡veririnwrites #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #gallagher hsr #gallagher x reader #gallagher angst

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