#standing him up in my living room and wrapping him in lights and keeping my cats from chewing on him

[achilles-rage]

thinking about older neighbour!john price hearing you knock on his door one october night, just barely audible over the sound of heavy rain hitting his roof and windows, and the thunder and lightning in the distance.

MDNI 18+ Only!

he ushers you inside quickly, seeing that you're already slightly damp from walking across your lawn and to his front door. he notices you shivering, a blanket thrown around your shoulders, and puts an arm around you as he leads you to sit on a stool in his kitchen while he makes you some tea.

"i’m sorry. the power's been out all day, and my house is freezing. i saw your lights still on, and i just thought-" you begin to say apologetically, but he cuts you off with a tut, shaking his head.

"don't apologize. you're always welcome here. you can stay the night, if you want. the generator's still got a ton of juice." he tells you gruffly, sliding your mug across the counter and leaning across from you, his elbows propping himself up. you thank him softly as you pick up the tea, letting it warm up your hands, but not taking a sip yet.

"you're freezing. why don't we go sit on the couch? i've got the fireplace going, it'll warm you up in no time." you nod, smiling softly as you stand up. he smiles when you immediately turn and walk to his living room. he loves how comfortable you are in his space.

he thinks he won the jackpot when he moved in next door to you, this soft, sweet thing that was quick to introduce herself and bring him a fresh batch of cookies as a welcome to the neighbourhood.

pretty soon, after he insisted that there was no reason for you to pay someone else, you began asking him for help with things around your house. and in return, you brought him sweets. but, he always thought the best reward was seeing you plush tummy hidden by the fabric of your clothes, or a sliver of your thighs when you wore short dresses, or when you would wear lower cut shirts that gave him the perfect view of your soft tits.

you take a seat on the couch, immediately crossing your legs and wrapping the blanket tighter around you. he stands in front of you and holds out his hands, gesturing to the blanket. you raise your brow, giving him a confused look. he gently tugs it off of you, and silently makes his way to his laundry room, putting your blanket in the dryer, before coming back. he grabs you a different blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over your shoulders, muttering a soft "that's better" before he sits down beside you.

you talk to him in a quiet voice for a while, the only other sounds being the harsh sound of rain hitting his house, and the soft crackle of the fire burning in his fireplace. he tries so hard to be good, to keep his eyes on your face rather than trailing down your body. even though you’re covered by a blanket, it doesn’t stop him from imagining how you’d look under him, how you’d feel when he stretched you out around him, how you’d feel coming on his cock.

he suddenly gets an idea, and stands up, telling you he’s going to make some more tea. you try to protest, but he doesn’t want to hear a peep. you still look so cold, he lies, and he wants to make sure you don’t catch a cold. isn’t that sweet?

rather than going to the kitchen, however, he goes to check on his generator. he shuts it off quickly, grinning as he’s enveloped in darkness. he makes his way back to the living room with a battery powered lantern just in time to hear your sweet little voice call for him. you’re such a soft little thing, and if everything goes according to plan, you’ll be bouncing on his lap by the end of the night.

“it’s okay, sweetheart. i’m here. generator must’ve run outta gas. we can get closer to the fire if you want, it’ll keep us plenty warn.” he tells you in a smooth voice, grinning when he sees you look over at the fire and nod slowly.

he clears his throat as he moves to sit in front of the fire, leaning back against the couch. he pats the spot beside him, urging you to come sit with him.

once you’re beside him, you offer some of your blanket to him. he’s not cold. not at all. but what kind of man would he be to turn down such an inviting offer? it’s almost as if that gesture proves to him that you want him too, that although you came to his house in search of warmth, you were looking for him to warm you up, not his heater.

he’s sure that’s what sparked his newfound confidence, and soon enough, your clothes are discarded on the carpet beside you, and his cock is slowly stretching out your dripping hole.

“that’s it, sweetheart. let me hear you.” he growls quietly, eyes trained on your face contorted in pleasure. you whimper softly, moving yourself on his cock in a way that makes you see stars. while one of his hands helps guide you up and down on his thick cock, the other circles your puffy clit. he wants more than anything to watch you come apart for him, and right now, he’s holding back from coming too early.

he smirks when he hears the loud mewl escape your lips and you start to move in uneven bounces, shuddering on top of him. he moves his fingers in circles around your clit even faster, groaning at the sight of you tilting your head back in ecstasy.

“you gonna cum for me, sweetheart? you wanna cum on my cock?” he asks you roughly. he can feel himself twitching inside of you, and he knows he’s close, he just hopes you’re as close as he is. you nod your head vigorously, and the only sound you’re able to make is a high pitched whine, although he’s sure he can hear “please, john” between your incoherent babbling.

“cum for me, baby. let go for me.” he whispers, and after a few more seconds, something inside you snaps. your body goes rigid as you feel yourself coming on him, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you throw your head back. this sight is all it takes for him to let go as well. he cums with a loud grunt, followed by a moan as he feels himself filling you to the brim.

you bite your lip hard when you feel his seed against your velvety walls, and you slow your hips to a stop as you try to catch your breath, his cock still buried to the hilt.

the rest of the night consists of him pulling you into his arms and refusing to let you go. you lay on the carpet in front of the fire, being lulled to sleep by his steady breathing on your neck, and you’re sure john price will never be “just your neighbour” ever again.

likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @tatyhend @sammiejane22 @mbioooo0000 @officiallyalbino @wanniiieeee @dreams-encapsulated-in-glamour @boybandbaby @toessssw @catkight (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in searches, otherwise i can’t tag you! and since this is my first cod post, i only added those who didn’t specify what posts they want to be added to, so if you don’t want to be tagged in future posts about it, comment on my taglist post!)

[niya-writesshit]

cowboy!artdonaldson x fem!reader

based on this request :

Anonymous asked:

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

TW: use of y/n (1), smut MDNI - oral (f receiving), swearing, not proofread

word count: 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n: uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference! and this is kinda shit im sowwy. REPOST BC LAST TIME IT FLOPPED AND IDK WHY.

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

there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotched. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties with a crooked finger. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.'the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

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

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

¡! ❞ a/n: i believe this is the longest thing i've written on this blog everyone applaud!

[divorcedtom]

[sakkiichi]

COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.

[amiableness]

Only Me

Pairing: Theo Nott x Reader

Summary: Desperate to get a persistent girl off his back, Enzo and reader kiss. But when the kiss unexpectedly turns heated, Theo loses it.

Word Count: 4184

Warnings: Jealousy, a bit of possessiveness, reader kisses both Enzo and Theo (separately), and language. Let me know if there’s anything else!

A/N 💌 This idea has been bouncing around in my head for awhile! Thank you to @moonpascal for reading and giving me pointers as always <3

The common room buzzes with the familiar hum of conversation, groups of students either buried in classwork or indulging in gossip. Outside, snow is falling, making it all the more comforting to be curled up by the fire in your favorite armchair. Your knees are tucked tightly to your chest, and your book is balanced on top, though you haven’t turned a page in what feels like forever.

Your mind keeps wandering to Theo, who sits across from you on the couch, his attention seemingly on Enzo’s animated storytelling. But despite the lively chatter around you, your focus is entirely on him. For the past hour, you’ve found yourself sneaking glances in his direction, unable to tear your thoughts away.

His laugh rings out, warm and infectious, pulling your gaze to him as if by instinct. The sound is so captivating that it seems to fill the entire room, making it impossible not to look. As his laughter fades into soft, lingering chuckles, his eyes suddenly meet yours, and your stomach flips at the unexpected eye contact, the intensity of his gaze holding you in place.

He raises his eyebrow at you, his expression a hint of curiosity mixed with amusement. He finally breaks the silence, his voice low. “You know, you don’t have to sit all the way over there.”

“And where would I sit instead?” You ask, your voice lightly tinged with amusement. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Blaise arch an amused brow at your tone, clearly picking up on the flirty undertone. 

The other boys don’t seem to notice, too absorbed in their conversation. Whatever they’re discussing has them completely engrossed, their voices animated and intense. Normally, you’d eavesdrop, but today, you’re too distracted by how undeniably good Theo looks to focus on anything else.

Theo’s lips curve into a small, almost gentle smile, one that’s reserved just for you. He pats the empty space beside him on the couch, “With me, dolcezza.”

You sigh, feigning annoyance at the thought of moving, but in reality, you’re trying to suppress the flutter in your stomach as you stand and make your way over to Theo. He greets you with a grin, and you roll your eyes in response, though you can’t quite hide the smile tugging at your bottom lip, which you quickly bite down on.

You aim to sit a reasonable distance away from him, but before you can settle in, Theo surprises you by reaching out and pulling you closer, so close that you’re practically sitting on his lap. The sudden contact sends a jolt through you, catching you completely off guard.

His name slips past your lips in a breathless gasp, drawing Blaise’s attention from across the room. He looks over, his grin widening with amusement as he takes in the scene. You’re nestled closely against Theo, your body practically molded to his, with one leg draped over his lap. His arm is securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close, while his fingers lazily toy with the hem of your skirt, tracing light patterns that send shivers up your spine.

You’re so focused on steadying the nerves fluttering in your stomach that you don’t even notice the girl approaching your group. She lingers just a few feet away from Enzo, but he’s too engrossed in his conversation to see her. It isn’t until Mattheo nods in her direction with a smirk and makes a remark about the “pretty little visitor” that Enzo finally catches on.

He swivels around in his armchair, and you notice his smile falter ever so slightly before he quickly recovers, masking his reaction, “Oh, hi.” He doesn’t even bother to conceal the disappointment in his voice.

You close your eyes, wincing in disappointment as you hear Theo chuckle softly. 

“I wanted to know if you wanted to read our project before I turned it in.” The bundle of parchment crinkles in her grasp, the edges slightly rumpled from handling. Enzo’s eyes drop to the papers, his expression shifting as he takes in the sight.

“I’m good. Thanks, though.” Enzo starts to turn back to the boys, his tone polite but firm, signaling the conversation’s end. But before he can fully disengage, she takes a step forward, determination in her eyes.

“That’s fine! Maybe you’d like to do something together outside of class?” Her voice is laced with hope, almost too eager, as she tries to bridge the gap between them.

Enzo hesitates, his discomfort evident. “Uh, I don’t think so,” he says, wincing as a flush creeps up his neck, his cheeks turning pink. He glances around, clearly uneasy with the situation. “Like I said last time, I’m just not interested.” His voice softens, an attempt to let her down gently, but the awkwardness hangs in the air, making the rejection all the more painful.

“It doesn’t have to be a date.” She persists, her voice tinged with a hopeful edge. You glance over at Draco and Mattheo, who are laughing to themselves, clearly amused by the unfolding scene. She doesn’t seem to notice; her focus is entirely on Enzo, and her determination is ruthless.

“You know what? Let’s just talk about this tomorrow.” Enzo sighs, trying to find an easy out. Her face lights up at the mere mention of tomorrow, a hopeful smile spreading across her lips. She eagerly agrees, practically spinning on her heel to leave. As she walks away, Enzo lets out another sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Salazar, mate! That was pathetic.” Mattheo laughs.

Draco smirks, leaning back casually, “Honestly, Enzo, you’re being too fucking nice. She’ll keep coming back if you don’t tell her to fuck off.”

“I’ve tried!” Enzo protests, sending him an exacerbated look.

“Enzo, you can just say no directly.” You chime in, your tone light but pointed. 

Enzo looks over at you, shaking his head, “Sweetheart, I’ve tried.” Theo’s eyes narrow in annoyance at the pet name, but Enzo doesn’t notice.

“Grab a girl and make out in front of her. She’ll get the hint then,” Mattheo suggests nonchalantly, shrugging as if it’s the most obvious solution. He leans back in his chair, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. “It’s worked for me plenty of times.”

“Are you hearing my problem? I don’t need another girl becoming attached.” Enzo snaps. Draco immediately scoffs at the mention of Enzo’s popularity with the girls of Hogwarts—it’s clearly always bothered him.

“Merlin, Enzo. Just ask one of the girls, then.” Draco huffs, his impatience evident in his tone. He rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated with the ongoing discussion. Sitting beside you, Theo tenses up slightly, his posture stiffening as he shifts uncomfortably.

“What the fuck, mate? Pans and I are together.” Blaise says, sending him an annoyed look. Draco just shrugs indifferently.

“She’d probably say yes.” Draco mumbles. He dismisses the glare Blaise throws his way.

Mattheo’s gaze drifts to you, and a sly, amused smile spreads across his face, carrying a hint of something darker in his eyes. “Well, love,” he drawls, his tone teasing, “looks like you’re the one who’ll be kissing Enzo.”

“No,” Theo grits out, his voice strained with protectiveness. His fingers spread out as he firmly grasps your hip, his fingertips creating dimples in your skin. His eyes lock onto Mattheo with a stern glare. “She isn’t.”

Theo's reaction doesn’t catch you off guard. He’d always been protective of you. In the beginning, you chalked it up to his feelings for you, but as the years passed without anything more, you let that theory slip away.

“Unfortunately,” Draco drawls with a smirk, his voice dripping with mock sympathy, “that isn’t really up to you, mate.”

“You don’t have to,” Enzo says, his tone soft and reassuring. “That’s a lot to ask.” His words carry a gentle understanding, and Theo visibly relaxes.

Your gaze shifts to Theo, who is watching you with a furrowed brow and a trace of irritation in his eyes. You’ve been absorbed in your feelings for Theo for so long that you’ve avoided pursuing anything with anyone else. You’ve had a few kisses here and there, but they were disappointing. Kissing Enzo wouldn’t be awful. Probably the exact opposite. You’ve heard the giggles and whispers around school about how good it is to kiss Enzo. Much more than just that, actually.

Maybe things with Theo would never work out, and you'd always just be his best friend. You could accept that. But if that’s how it was going to be, he didn’t have the right to tell you not to kiss Enzo.

“I’ll let you kiss me.” You say, your voice firm. The boys exchange stunned and uneasy glances, their eyes darting nervously toward Theo, who stares at you in wide-eyed disbelief. 

The room feels charged with tension as Theo’s expression darkens, “Dolcezza—”

“It’s not up for debate, Theo. If Enzo wants to kiss me, he can,” You assert, pulling away from Theo and turning so you’re directly facing Enzo. Theo’s frown deepens, his hands clenching slightly as he struggles to suppress the urge to haul you back onto his lap. The tension is palpable as he watches you with frustration and reluctance. You glance back at Enzo, your voice softening as you add, “I don’t mind, Enz.”

“Are you sure?” Enzo asks softly, his voice barely audible. Theo shoots him a sharp, warning glare. Enzo casts an uneasy glance at Theo before turning his attention back to you.

“I trust you.” You say with a soft smile, your eyes meeting his. Enzo’s tension eases a tad as he returns the smile.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You arrive at your usual spot in the Great Hall well before the rest of your friends, hoping to settle in for a quiet breakfast and then head straight to class. Just as you begin to relax, Pansy slides into the seat next to you with a grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she catches your eye.

“I just heard the most scandalous thing.” Pansy says with a sly smile, leaning in as if sharing a secret.

“Did you?” You ask, taking a slow sip of your tea and watching her with a hint of amusement.

“I heard that Theo Nott’s girl will be making out with his best mate.” She hums thoughtfully, casting you a knowing glance as she carefully fills her plate.

“I don’t think Theo Nott has a girl.” You give her a pointed look as you speak. Pansy sighs, clearly tempted to launch into one of her usual lectures about how Theo feels the same way. But before she can say anything, the boys start to trickle in, their expressions groggy.

Theo's mood is already sour and only worsens when he narrows his eyes at you, his gaze honing in on the subtle sheen on your lips. “Are you wearing lip gloss?” he asks, suspicion lacing his tone.

You hum in confirmation, a small, carefree sound that only makes Theo’s stomach churn harder. He feels a wave of nausea rise, the thought of you putting on lipgloss to kiss someone else—especially Enzo—causing an unsettling tightness in his chest. His jaw clenches as he struggles to keep it together. Mattheo and Draco watch him closely, clearly entertained as their eyes dart back and forth between the two of you.

His food sits forgotten as he stares at you incredulously, “Why?”

“What do you mean why? If I’m kissing Enzo, I want my lips to be soft for him.” Enzo flushes a deep red, and Theo stares at you in disbelief as the rest of your friends erupt in whistles and teasing comments, reacting to what you’ve just said.

Even though it seemed a bit unnecessary, you had applied some lip product and brushed your teeth for an unusually long time. The last thing you wanted was for him to think poorly of the kiss. 

“Careful, Nott. After this kiss, she might not be your girl anymore.” Draco snarks with a smirk, his voice laced with amusement. You hold your breath, anticipating Theo’s reaction, but to your disappointment, he says nothing.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Theo’s mood simmered down throughout the day, and you guessed it was because you hadn’t needed to kiss Enzo. You spent the entire day without catching even a glimpse of the girl Enzo was avoiding. Throughout the day’s classes, you remained on edge, ready to put on a show with Enzo if necessary. 

But as the hours passed and she failed to appear, it became increasingly clear that you might not need to kiss one of your best friends today. With hardly anyone in the halls, you hadn’t anticipated crossing paths with her again.

“How about a girls’ night tonight?” You ask, throwing a pointed glance at the boys trailing behind you.“I need a break from them.”

Pansy grinned, “Even Nott?”

“Oh, fuck off,” You laugh, playfully swatting at her arm with your free hand while balancing your book in the other. “Even Nott.”

“I would. But Blaise and I are hanging out.” Her tone is suggestive, and you respond with a knowing glance.

“Make sure you—” Your words are abruptly silenced as a firm grip pulls you backward. Enzo’s arm wraps securely around your waist, hauling you against his chest. The sudden, intimate contact leaves you breathless and disoriented. Before you can fully grasp what’s happening, his lips are on yours, hot and demanding. The sheer intensity of the kiss makes your heart race wildly, and a startled moan escapes from deep within you.

Your hand, momentarily frozen, then moves with a mind of its own, sliding into his hair. Your fingers bury themselves in the soft, silky strands, feeling the slight tremor of his breaths against your skin as the kiss deepens. Enzo’s other hand finds its way to the side of your neck, his thumb brushing along your throat. The tender, intimate touch sends a jolt of desire through you, making you gasp softly. Your book slips from your grasp, thudding heavily on the floor, but you’re too absorbed in the moment to notice. With your other hand now free, it instinctively reaches up to clutch his bicep, using him to hold yourself up.

Enzo’s lips trail a heated path from the corner of your mouth, inching toward the sensitive spot just below your ear. Each kiss sends a shiver through you, leaving your body feeling as though it’s melting into his touch. The intensity of the moment is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, and you find yourself lost, feeling his lips on you.

Clearly, you hadn’t picked the right guys to kiss before.

“Theo is going to beat my ass for touching you.” Enzo’s breathy whisper grazes your ear, sending a shiver down your spine before he begins to pull back. To his surprise, you instinctively lean forward, your eyes fluttering closed as you chase after his retreating lips, your breath mingling with his in a shared moment of longing. Just as he’s about to close the gap and kiss you again, Theo’s hand shoots out, gripping the collar of Enzo’s shirt with a firm hold. He yanks Enzo away with a decisive tug, his eyes blazing.

He’s absolutely furious.

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m letting you kiss her again. She ran off the second you grabbed Y/n.” Theo snaps, his tone icy and edged with contempt.

It takes a moment for you to register that Theo is talking about Enzo’s relentless former class partner.

His gaze locks onto the lip gloss smeared across Enzo’s lips, and a dangerous glint flares in his eyes. The flicker of anger in his gaze sharpens as he takes a deliberate step forward, his posture radiating barely contained tension. His fingers twitch at his sides, visibly itching to confront his best friend, the promise of retribution clear in his stance.

Enzo remains silent, but his eyes shift to you, conveying a mixture of regret and concern. Theo’s gaze follows, landing on you. Your lips are swollen from the intensity of the kiss, your chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Your eyes, still wide and slightly glassy, remain fixed on Enzo.

You look wrecked, and Theo despises it.

Without a second thought, Theo takes a decisive step forward, his jaw clenched tightly and his fingers digging into his palms. The sudden movement is charged with barely contained anger, his eyes locked onto Enzo with a fierce intensity.

“Nott!” Blaise barks, clapping a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “It was just a kiss.”

“Quite the kiss, though.” Draco adds with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Mattheo lets out a low whistle, clearly entertained. Theo responds with a withering glare, his expression darkening.

Blaise shoves Theo back forcefully, his voice cutting through the tension. “Take your girl and go cool off.” He commands, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Theo fixes Blaise with a scathing glare, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he shoves past him, grabs your hand with a firm grip, and pulls you down the hall toward his dorm, his movements fueled by anger and jealousy.

You protest, urging him to slow down, but he disregards your words, muttering curses in Italian under his breath. With a fierce shove, he throws open the door to his dorm. You trail after him, and as soon as you step inside, he slams the door shut behind you. As you watch, he paces the room, his hands running through his hair in frustration.

You’ve never seen him like this before—raw and seething.

He spins around to face you, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and distress, “What the fuck was that, dolcezza?’

There’s a moment of silence before you murmur, “A kiss,” as you lean against the door. Theo’s eyes follow your hand as it gently touches your swollen lips, and he sees the distant, reflective look in your eyes.

A flash of something dark and possessive ignites in his gaze. He clenches his jaw, the flicker of jealousy sharp and stinging. The sight of you lingering on the memory of Enzo’s kiss twists in his gut, fueling an intense surge of anger. He can’t stand seeing you so absorbed in someone else’s touch.

“That wasn’t just a kiss.” Theo snaps, his voice clipped.

“It was a bit much,” You reply with a resigned sigh, your gaze meeting his. “But it felt good—”

“Kissing him felt good?” Theo interrupts, his voice dropping to a strained, dangerous whisper. Each word cuts through the space between you with an intensity that makes your heart pound. He steps closer, his eyes blazing with anger and disbelief. You falter, your words catching in your throat as you watch him. “Is that really what you think I want to hear?”

“I don’t know what you want to hear.” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You meet his gaze with a defiant look, trying to hold your ground even as your heart races.

Theo’s eyes darken, and he takes another step closer, his face inches from yours. His breath is warm against your skin, mingling with your uneven gasps. 

“I want to hear that it meant absolutely nothing to you.” Theo says.

“It didn’t.” You confirm, eyes fixed on his, your breath catching in your throat. This is the closest you've ever been, the closest you've ever allowed yourself to imagine that he might actually kiss you.

“It didn’t?” He repeats, his voice low and dangerously soft. “Because it sure looked like it did.” The intensity in his eyes is almost overwhelming, and you can almost feel the heat of frustration radiating off him.

“It was just a kiss, Theo. It wasn’t real.” You say, looking away, a slight hint of exasperation to your tone.

“Are you sure he felt that way?”

“Enzo?” Your eyes snap back to him in disbelief. Theo stares blankly at you. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He retorts, his voice shifting from anger to something softer, almost vulnerable. “Because the girl I love is standing in front of me, talking about how kissing my best friend felt good.”

The words hang in the air, and your heart stutters as you struggle to take it all in. The anger that once fueled his every move is now mingled with something else—something that feels like hope. The intensity of his confession leaves you momentarily stunned, your mind reeling as you try to make sense of it. Theo’s eyes hold yours, a storm of anger, hurt, and vulnerability brewing just beneath the surface.

“Theo…” You begin, but your voice falters, and you struggle to formulate a sentence. All you had ever wanted was for him to confess, and now that he had, you found yourself at a loss. The moment you’d imagined so many times was finally here, yet the reality of it left you frozen, uncertain of how to respond.

He steps closer, his hand lifting to gently brush his fingers against your cheek. The space between you is almost gone now. His gaze flickers to your lips, and you can see the conflict in his eyes—the tension between the desire to hold you close and the hurt of picturing you with someone else.

"Do you have any idea how long I’ve loved you, dolcezza?" Theo’s voice drops to a whisper, thick with emotion, as he gently traces your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. The delicate touch sends a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching in response. His gaze flickers from your eyes, filled with desire and uncertainty, down to your parted lips, lingering there as if trying to memorize every curve and tremble. "Years," he breathes, the word heavy with longing, his thumb still grazing your lip as if he's afraid to let go.

The air between you feels charged, thick with emotions that have been kept buried for far too long. Theo’s confession hangs between you like a fragile thread, one that could break with a single wrong move. His thumb continues its gentle path along your lip, the contact sending a rush of warmth through your body.

“Years?” You echo, your voice wrecked as the realization sinks in. The word feels foreign on your tongue, like something you’ve never quite understood until now. 

Theo nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I tried to push it away,” he admits, his voice low and raw. “Tried to convince myself it wasn’t real, that it was just some stupid crush I’d get over. But it wasn’t. It isn’t.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His thumb stills against your lip, and his expression darkens with regret. “Because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I didn’t want to risk losing you. But now…” He trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips again, his resolve wavering. “But I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you, kissing you, when I’ve been waiting all this time.”

“Theo…” You murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, as you reach up to cup his face. Your fingers brush against the rough stubble on his jaw, and he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

When he opens them again, they’re filled with a desperate kind of hope, one that makes your heartache. You whisper, “Will you please just kiss me?”

He moves with an intense determination, his hand sliding up to cradle the side of your head, fingers curling possessively just beneath your ear. The raw intensity in his gaze overwhelms you, a mix of longing and vulnerability that feels both foreign and intimately familiar. The depth of emotion in his eyes constricts your chest, an unexpected surge of feeling threatening to make you tremble.

His thumb trails a fiery path along your cheek, the warmth of his touch igniting a wave of sensation. As he leans in, the air between you becomes electrified with tension. When his lips finally connect with yours, the kiss is a fierce collision of need and tenderness—a deliberate press that lingers.

Your fingers clutch the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he responds by pressing you firmly against the door. The proximity makes you draw a sharp, shuddering breath, a sound that mingles with the deeper kiss as he intensifies the connection. His lips are urgent and demanding, yet tender, each movement sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand braces against the door next to your head, anchoring you both in this intimate, electrifying moment.

The space between you disappears, replaced by the searing heat of his body against yours, drawing you irresistibly into him. Breathless, you’re lost in him, more exhilarated than you’ve ever been. His lips against yours send your mind reeling, and you know that if you weren’t pinned against the door, you’d cling to him just to stay upright.

When you finally pull back, breathless and dizzy, Theo’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes still closed as he savors the moment. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

You smile softly, your heart swelling as your throat constricts with emotion. “I’ve loved you for just as long.”

please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write! 💌

[bunnys-kisses]

my woman

capt. john price

cw: ex husband!price, jealousy, possessive behaviour, breeding, dark-ish themes, baby trapping, dark!john, proceed with caution!!

bunny says: happy birthday to me <3

you couldn't take it anymore. the stress of his job, the lonely nights, the distance was all too much for you. it broke you honestly, you couldn't be that woman for him. the idea of him coming home in a box made you overwhelmed at times.

price understood, he didn't even try to push against the divorce. but that didn't mean that he left you alone. if anything he pushed himself further into your life. that charming smile and those blue eyes, his hearty laugh and his rumble of a voice.

"c'mon, love. who's been over?" he said while standing at your front door. he stood a good head over you, he was broad as well. his eyes were cold as he asked again, "who's been over, lovie?"

you swallowed, "my sister she came over to see how i was doin'. plus, we're not married anymore, i can have whoever i want over."

price looked at you, "i pay for this place, technically i can decide who comes in and who leaves." he brushed past you and walked into the flat. hands in his jeans as he looked around.

you knew you couldn't physically kick him out, it was like an ant pushing a boulder! you stayed far back from him with your arms crossed, "john, get out."

he peeked into the kitchen before he walked in and said, "don't think so, love. i have to make sure that my girl is behavin'." he opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, "oat milk drinker, now?"

your throat tightened, "i had a friend over."

price looked at the carton, "must've been over a lot, or used a lot of milk." he shook the carton, "almost empty."

your stomach flipped. after your divorce you had met a lovely man who worked stable hours and had a winning smile. but price didn't need to know that.

"you bringin' men into my home, fuckin' them on sheets i bought. you whorin' yourself out now, love?" his voice was laced with venom as he put the carton down, "everything you are, i made. from your rank when you were servin' to the home you live in." he got closer to you.

you swallowed, "john, leave."

"no, no." he closed the gap between you two. he took you by the wrists and leaned in, "no woman of mine is gonna be a cheap fuckin' slag."

"i'm not your woman, your girl or your wife."

"then maybe i didn't fight hard enough to keep ya."

your stomach flipped once more. there was something about price that broke your resolve. even after all the pain and heartbreak, he was your husband. so when he kissed you, you didn't push him away.

he picked you up with relative ease, you wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct for fear that he'd drop you. he put you down with a bit of force onto the recliner he loved so.

your face felt heated as you were about to let your ex-husband fuck you.

"my girl on my chair." he chuckled. he remembered the nights where he'd have a beer and watch the football game while you were in between his legs like an obedient little puppy.

he watched you strip of your clothes, his larger hands helped you as you struggled to get out of your sweatpants. poor girl, always needs a mans help. price knew that your limp dicked new man couldn't help the way he could.

he loved the sight of your nude, all the curves and dips. the wetness of your cunt that gleamed in the light of the room. he got his cock out of his jeans and stroked it.

"remember this, love?" he smiled down at you, "i know you're pretty familiar with it." he chuckled, you spread your legs for him like a good wife. he reached over with his free hand and ruffled your hair.

"please, john." you moaned.

he chuckled, "impatient girl, bet ya touched yourself thinkin' of me and lied to your new man about it. bet ya told him that you were more than happy to suck his limp cock. nothin' like mine, eh?"

you looked at him, "there's nothing i could find or buy that felt like you."

he laughed, a full hearty laugh then met your gaze once more, "good." he said, "i'm glad i ruined that pussy of yours. because you're my wife and this is the only cock you'll need." then leaned over you and pushed his cock into you.

you choked out a gasp at the fullness you felt. you could feel it in your stomach. you gripped onto the armrests of the seat as you tried to regain the air in your lungs.

your pussy felt like heaven to him.

the sex was brutal, your sweaty back got stuck to the leather as he held your hips and battered your sweet cunt. he liked the idea that he ruined you for other men, that no one else could make you feel the way he did.

"do you see now." he said, "we're meant to be."

you looked away, "john, please." you felt the warmth pool in your gut. he took you by the jaw and pulled you into a kiss as he continued to move against you.

"you're my heart and soul, baby girl." his voice was low and erotic, "made just for me." he wanted to get it through to you that you were meant to be with him. arousal shot through him at the idea, the best way he could make sure that the two of you would be tied together.

it fueled him to push his cock as deep as it could go. his heavy balls hit against your ass as he fucked you without abandon. your sweet moans filled his head and he could feel his grey t-shirt grow hot with sweat.

he didn't worry, next round he'd get undressed fully. for now your sweet slick would ruin the denim of his jeans. he gazed at the expressions on your face as you closed your eyes.

"that's it."

"please, john. fuck, pull out." you whined.

"can't do that, love. you're keeping me in ya. you want this too. keep a little reminder on me in ya when you call that fuckin' prick of yours to break up."

"i'm not breaking up with him." you trembled in an attempt to gain some kind of control

he grabbed you by the hair and made you look at him. his chuckled lowly, "cute, love. but no, you're going to sit there with my cum in your cunt as you call that fuckin' prick to tell him to leave you alone. or better yet, you keep my cock nice and cozy inside ya when you call."

you swallowed and whimpered, "please, john."

he gave you a rough kiss on the cheek, his facial hair was scratchy against your soft, sweaty skin, "it's either that, or he won't be walkin' ever again. i'd suggest you take the more merciful option." he let go of your hair and quickened his pace.

you squeezed your eyes shut once more and it wasn't long before orgasm pulled you under. your slick cunt gripped his cock as the euphoria rushed through you.

price was pleased with himself as a pathetic noise left your lips. he gave a few more hearty thrusts before he finished. his noises were lower, darker and deeper than yours.

"good girl." he said, "lettin' your man do what needs to do to keep this together." he pushed strands of hair out of your face, his cock still hard in you, "see, you can listen. you can behave."

"john." you whined.

he patted your cheek lovingly, "shh, not now. let it happen." his voice was so calm and cool. the tonal whiplash made your head feel murky.

why did you leave him anyway?

he then grabbed you by the hair and brought you down onto the expensive carpet. he took off he shirt while you were on your shaky hands and knees. he knew your pulse was racing.

"don't worry baby girl." he said as he kissed your sweaty back, "just gotta go a few more times... until it takes."

-

while re-marriage wasn't common, being mrs. price was your rightful title. especially now that your little girl was born. price got you a nice house on a piece of land out in the country. you could raise your little family in peace.

"c'mon honey." you cooed at your toddler as she tried to stand on shaky legs, "go see daddy." there was such tenderness in your voice.

who would've thought a nice house and a cute little babe would've fixed ya right up!

price watched you try to teach your little girl how to walk on the grass. your hands held her smaller ones. price smiled at the rim of his teacup. for a moment he thought he lost you, but there's no worries now. you were his and next time he wouldn't let you leave. <3

[sleep-drunk-kitten]

pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, fluff, established relationship

content warnings: emotional neglect, some swearing, hoon is kinda a workaholic ig?, I don't think there's anything that really needs warnings other than this is sad but lmk if I miss anything!

summary: your boyfriend comes home late after promising to be home on time for once, only to find that you're nowhere in sight...

notes: this is another one that I'm not sure how to feel about ;-; but I hope you guys enjoy it TwT fun fact, the whole thing was inspired by an rp that I did with an ai where the robot somehow managed to call me by another person's name while cuddling XD

I'm making a general taglist for my fics so if anyone would like to be added please either send an ask or a DM ^w^

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  The white noise of your favorite movie buzzes through your living room, conversation and dialogue that you’d learned by heart filling the cold space with a false sense of familiarity. You sit cross-legged with your back pressed into the arm of the L-shaped couch in front of the tv, resting your chin on a plushie held close to your chest, looking not at the flickering screen to your right, but at the clock hanging in your kitchen–the only room in the house with the lights on. 

  9:17 pm, it reads. Roughly three hours and seventeen minutes since your boyfriend would typically get home from work. 

  Three hours and seventeen minutes since you’d been waiting on a barstool by the kitchen island where you both usually took your meals. 

  A tiramisu cake and a bouquet of flowers laid out in front of you. 

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  So much waiting. 

  After an hour or so, you’d gently slid the cake back into its box, distracting yourself with the task of putting the flowers into a vase before they could wilt. 

  ‘He’s late again,’ you think sleepily, eyes struggling to stay focused on the clock, ’he promised he wouldn’t be tonight.’

  Your vision blurs as the long hand hits 12, eyelids too heavy to keep open, mind wandering to the conversation you’d shared with Sunghoon that morning. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  “What time will you be home from work today?” you asked sleepily, sitting up in your nest of blankets, having woken up to find that he was already in the process of pulling his socks on, careful not to wake you. 

  “I don’t know, Love, you know how crazy things have been with this update, I might be late again,” he said absently, looking around for his glasses. “Where the fuck did I put them?”

  He runs a hand through his hair frustratedly, leg bouncing in agitation. It made your heart ache slightly in your chest, disappointment, guilt, and worry mixing confusedly in your stomach. 

  You loved Sunghoon, more than almost anything else in your life, he was the man you’d chosen as your partner, who you’d decided to stand by through thick and thin. But ever since the game company he worked for had started work on a new update, you’d been seeing less and less of him. Always coming home late, tired and stressed, mind wandering and absent even when he was sitting right in front of you. You understood, you really did. Between the two of you he was the one with the bigger income, the burden of taking care of you, of making sure that the two of you could build a future together, was on his shoulders. And it was a responsibility that he did not take lightly. 

  But still. 

  In moments like that, where you slid off your bed to fetch his glasses off the nightstand–blanket wrapped securely round your shoulders to fend off the cold that permeated your apartment since the heating had started to malfunction–moving round the bed to stand in front of him… you couldn’t help but feel like he was breaking your heart. Just a little. 

  It was in the way he only met your eyes briefly when he took them from you before standing and gathering the rest of his things, sighing in what could’ve been frustration or relief, it was hard to tell. 

  It was the way he didn’t stop the flow of movement steadily taking him away from you and towards the office till you called his name twice, stopping in his tracks and fixing you with a look that, though probably unintentional, made you want to bury yourself under your mountain of plushies and hide. 

  “I’m going to be late, (y/n), what is it?”

  You winced. You couldn’t help it. Unaccustomed to hearing him say your name with so little emotion. “Just… could you come back on time tonight?” your voice is barely more than a whisper, tapering off into silence the longer you force your eyes to meet his. “Unless you can’t of course! I’m not saying you have to do anything, I understand that you’re busy and you can’t really dictate when or how things get done but just that it would be nice if you could be home on time tonight since-”

  “Okay.”

  “Huh?” 

  “I’ll make it home on time tonight.” 

  His voice was softer than it had been a moment ago, giving you the courage you needed to meet his eyes. They were still heavy with worry, brows drawn together to dig a permanent crease into the middle of his forehead, but they weren’t quite as cold or distant. He was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time in what felt like forever. 

  It wasn’t much, you knew that. But it was still enough to ease the knot building in your throat. Enough to bring a small smile to your face as you nodded. “Mnm! Okay, I’ll see you tonight then.”

   “Mnm, alright,” he said, a small, slightly strained smile coming to rest on his own lips.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  The apartment was almost completely dark when the lock to the front door chimed, alerting the darkness that someone had arrived. The figure that stepped through was slumped over, backpack sliding off one shoulder with his jacket, shoes abandoned haphazardly. 

  It took a moment for Sunghoon’s mind to catch up to his body, for it to fully sink into his bones that he was home. That he was home and it was nearly 11 pm. Home and the tv and kitchen light were both on, white letters onscreen asking the room if anyone was still watching Netflix. 

  Something in the kitchen caught his eye, a handmade vase his sister had given you for your birthday set out on the kitchen island, filled to the brim with pink, white, and purple flowers he did not recognise. 

  ’Oh’

  It was his birthday. 

  That’s why you’d asked him to come home on time. 

  Sunghoon groaned, face twisting with what could only be described as pain as he quickly set his bag down by the front door and made his way to your shared bedroom. You were usually asleep by this time, unable to pull all-nighters the way you used to back when you were in high school, always out like a light by no later than 10:30 every night. 

  ’But she still stays up every night waiting for you,’ a voice in his head hisses.

  ’I know… fuck I know she does,’ his own voice replies, panic setting in when he finds your room empty, the bed neatly made, not even a dent to show that you’d been laying in it while working on your laptop during the day. 

  ’She’s not here… are you surprised? How long did you expect her to wait?’ the voice whispers, a chill cascading down his spine.

  The panic sets in with more vigor, wrapping round his throat and sending his tired mind into overdrive as he checks the bathroom, your home office, and finally the dark living room. Fear telling him that this was it. 

  He’d really gone and done it now. 

  He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew the moment you stood in the middle of your bedroom floor instead of closing the distance between you and wrapping your arms around his waist, choosing instead to clutch your favorite duvet like a lifeline, wincing when you heard his voice, all because you wanted to ask him to come home… he knew right then that he’d been an absolute idiot. 

  He’d meant to come home early, to be there to make it up to you, to apologise properly, tell you that he’d take some time off as soon as the update was done and dusted. 

  But he didn’t. He let work sweep him up again. Drowning in error messages and buggy code till the sky outside his office windows was filled with the flickering lights of the city at night. 

  And now… now you weren’t there. 

  He’d left you alone. 

  He’d left you alone too long and you were gone. 

  You were gone. 

  You were gone and-

  ’Oh.’

  There you were. 

  The relief when Sunghoon sees you–curled up on the couch, partially hidden by a small pile of blankets and stuffed animals–is immediate.

  He doesn’t really register the way he sighs your name, shoulders relaxing, body melting into the floor the moment he’s in front of you, hand brushing a few messy strands of hair out of your face. The need to feel the warmth of your skin, to confirm that you really are there in front of him more an instinct than a conscious decision. 

  You mumble something in your sleep, tilting your face away from his cold fingertips, eyes fluttering open. “Hoon… hi baby… welcome home,” you say tiredly, shifting under your blankets in an attempt to pull yourself up. 

  Sunghoon feels his heart crack in his chest. Why were you smiling at him? You should've been angry. You should've pushed him away, demanded to know why he was back so late, why he'd been neglecting you in the first place. 

  “Baby? My love… why are you crying?” you ask, reaching for him through the haze of sleep still clinging to your limbs. 

  Choking back a sob, he leans closer, tucking his head under your chin and doing his best to wrap an arm around you from his place on the carpeted floor. “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, though the tears soaking into your sternum say otherwise, “just missed you…”

  Your vision blurs at his words, a thread of steadily building tension and worry that had been constricting your heart for the past few weeks snapping. “Oh…” your voice shakes slightly, lungs shuddering as your breaths begin to feel lighter, “I’m right here you goose, what’re you crying for?” 

  “Who says I’m crying,” he says, hoarse with tears. 

  “Right right,” you laugh despite the dampness now soaking through your own cheeks, “because my baby never cries, huh?” 

  “Never,” he sniffles, nuzzling closer.

  You stay like that for a while, eventually urging him to sit more comfortably on the couch, allowing you to settle yourself on his lap, his arms still wrapped firmly round your waist, hands occasionally kneading whatever part of you he was in contact with as if he needed to assure himself that you were there, solid and real. 

  He waits until he feels your heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm, trying his best to calm down so his own can match yours, beat for beat. The way it–in his opinion–should. 

  But it wouldn’t, there were words lodged in his throat, and every time he tried to get them out he felt that same panic wash over him, sending his heart into a frenzy. 

  You could feel like beating against your cheek, could sense that there was something he wasn’t saying from the way his grip on you would tighten almost imperceptibly, stiffening as if he was bracing himself for something. A part of you wanted to push him, prompt him and ask what was going through his head, why you’d woken up to the sight of him crying in the dim light of your living room. And you would’ve if he hadn’t beat you to it. 

  “I’m sorry, (y/n).”

  “What do you mean? For being late? I know you can’t help it, Hoon, it’s not some-”

  “No! I mean yes, I’m sorry for being late tonight but… I mean… I mean for everything… for not being… here, with you, like this… as often as I should be, I’m sorry,” he says, the hands at your sides nervously fidgeting with the fabric at your hips, nervously looking between your face and the static tv screen behind you. 

  Sunghoon had never been good with words. You’d learned early on in your relationship that he preferred to show how he felt through his actions. Yet here he was, fumbling through an apology because… because… 

  “My love… did you think I’d left?” you ask, gently cupping his face with one hand, urging him to look at you. 

  Puffy red eyes still wet with tears, messy unkempt hair from running his hands through it all day, tired and probably as emotionally spent as you’d ever seen him and still… still he was the most beautiful person in the world to you. He nodded, hiding his face in your chest again, hands stilling. 

  “Well,” you sigh, resting your chin on top of his head and running a hand through the hair at the back of his head, combing through it in a way he swears only you can, “at least you know you’ve got things you need to make up for…”

  “I know… I forgot for a while… but I know…”

  “That’s okay then,” you breathe, leaning back to kiss his forehead. “But Sunghoon… baby… darling… the love of my life… my little pookie bear… “ you both giggle a little at the pet names, “You know I’d never leave you over something like this right? I was sad, and hurt, and I still expect you to make it up to me by never doing this again but… I still love you, it only hurts because I love you… I’m not going anywhere.”

  Sunghoon pauses for a moment, letting your words sink in. You think that when he looks up, lips slightly parted, it’s to say something in response, but you really should’ve known better. 

  Slowly, giving you enough time to pull away should you choose to, his breath mingling with yours before he steals it away with a soft, lingering kiss. Neither of you is in any rush to take things further. 

  It feels like a small eternity before he pulls away, like time stills for you both, but then he’s pressing his lips to your jaw, butterfly kisses tickling you down to your pulse point, making you giggle so you almost miss it when he says, “I love you too… so much…” 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  It isn’t until the next day when you’re shuffling into your home office dressed in one of his oversized jerseys, complaining about a meeting that he remembers the flowers he’d seen on the kitchen island.

  Pulling out his phone, he makes good use of his detective skills (and google lens), remembering all the times you’d spoken to him about the language of flowers, and the meanings behind certain blooms. 

  He wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or cry once he’d figured it out, opting to dig through the cabinets for a pack of waffle mix to fix you some breakfast instead. He had a lot of apologies to make…

Baby’s Breath: pure everlasting love

Pink Camellias: longing for you

Forget-me-nots: true love memories, do not forget me

[oreo-creampie]

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, slightly suggestive groping (thigh) with toji and mention of his dick being half hard - nothing happens, plenty of gentle kisses, all of them are soft for you why wouldn't they be look at yourself, establish relationship

8k fluff celebration!

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Turning your head, muffling your yawn in Kento's chest covered by the softest sweater. "Mm stealing this sweater when you're done with it. You'll get it back when it no longer smells like you." Kento shuts off the TV, setting the remote underneath the side table lamp behind his head.

"How is this? I'll carry you to bed and you can sleep in my sweater. You need to get some good sleep." Yawning in response, tears blurring your eyes. Your jaw aching from how wide your mouth stretches from the sheer force of the yawn.

Slipping the blanket off of you, laying it over the back of the sofa. Kento sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist. Supporting you with a large hand on your ass. "Please, thank you Ken." Looping an arm around his broad shoulders, slipping your fingers into the nape of his sandy blonde hair.

Kento kisses the top of your head. "I love you so much beautiful, thank you for making this place a home. Can't think of going to bed without you by my side." Kissing the side of your head, hugging you tightly.

"I love you too handsome. It wouldn't be a home without you. The scent of your bread, the scent of your cologne lingering in the bathroom." Closing your eyes unable to keep them open anymore. Using all your energy to express, "Your coffee cups, books, house plants, and sweaters, everything. I love you."

Kento holds you with one arm, pulling the covers back. Leaning down, laying you down with care. "I'm deeply in love with you, and I fall again every day and night. With every smile, laugh, hug and kiss." He slips his sweater off, setting it on the edge of the bed next to you.

Slipping his arm underneath your waist and lifting your chest up. You hold your arms up for him to slip his sweater onto you. Before you lay down, Kento covers you in the soft blanket. Lovingly kissing your forehead, cheeks, and lips, tucking the blanket in along one side.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Turning off the tv. "You're adorable falling asleep on me, am I comfortable?" Kissing his neck, he softly sighs, tilting his head to the side. Slowly trailing lazy kisses up his neck, slipping your fingers into his hair.

Sliding your fingers through his hair. "The coziest." Gliding his large hand down your back cupping your ass. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Keeping the blanket from slipping when he slowly stands up.

Gently urging you to, "Never let me go, let's cuddle till we have to get out of bed for food. Then you can hug me from behind when I make us some breakfast." Flicking off the living room light. The moonlight coming the patio's glass doors lighting Suguru's way towards the hallway.

You mumble, "Will you feed it to me?" Suguru chuckles, his chest rumbling. Wrapping his arm around your waist, hugging you. You're too tired to reciprocate with more than a squeeze of your legs around his waist soaking in Suguru's love.

"Yes my queen can have whatever she wants. You can sit in my lap when I do." Climbing onto the bed, kneeling, sliding the curtain behind the bed's headboard shut. Slipping the throw blanket off of you, setting it balled up on the side table.

Laying down with you on his chest, you barely unwrap your legs, straddling his hips. Deciding Suguru's thick pecs are the perfect pillow. The steady beating of his heart is comforting. Pulling the blanket up over his and yours's body, arranging the pillow underneath his head.

Sliding his hand from your cheeks to your soft thigh. Resting his other hand on your back. "I want to wake up with you sleeping on me like this. You're adorable clinging to me." Kissing the top of your head. "I hope I dream of you. To see your beautiful face eyes closed or open is my personal heaven."

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Flicking on the lamp on the side table near your head. Wrinkling your nose, your lips twisting in disgust at the light piercing through your sleep. "Aw you fell asleep waitin' on me how cute. I tuck ya up in bed, have a few, and then I"ll come lay down." Smiling at Toji's deep voice, taking a moment to process at he said.

Peeling the covers back, his eyes widen. "Fuck I should've gotten here sooner." Squeezing your thigh gripped by the garter belt. "Not only do I get to come home to you, but you look cozy and sexy. My shirt looks surprisingly good with these garters." Lifting you off the soft, holding you to his chest.

Kissing your forehead. "I bet that's 'cause you're the one wearin' 'em." Wrapping your arm around his neck, pressing your face into his hard pec. Softly biting. "'s that for being late. "m sorry like make it up to ya tonight. Won't let you go once; I'll be your big teddy bear." Smiling at Toji, you've missed the comfort of his arms.

Setting you down in bed, flicking on the lamp. "Mm teddy bear, missed you, your meanie being late by six hours. Worried." Toji turns around facing the pile of clothes in the hamper.

Struggle to keep your eyes open, for the sake of watching him peel his tight black shirt off. His thick arms flex, the muscles in his back tensing. Slipping his sweats off, turning around his cock half hard. "Sweetheart I'll always come back to ya, gotta put some more trust in me. Love ya too much doll."

He climbs into bed, pushing his baggy shirt up. "Love ya too teddy bear." Gently taking the garter belt off. Trailing kiss along the inside of your thigh. Throwing them onto the floor.

You slide your fingers through Toji's dark hair. He lifts its head, admiring you in his shirt before flicking off the light. Leaning down kissing your forehead, softly squeezing your hip, pressing his hard body to yours. His weight presses you into the bed momentarily. Rolling onto his back, pulling you into his side.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You’re defeated, unable to open your eyes. The coziness of your head in his lap, his long fingers gently undoing your curls into a poofy mess. The tv has become a distance hum, the words becoming unintelligible.

Lightly poking your cheek. Smiling down at you admiring your beautiful face. He glances down at your lips. “You're such a sleepy princess!" Leaning down for a gentle, loving kiss. Which partly misses your lips from the angle he's at.

Using all your energy to smile up at him, your eyelids glued shut. "I can take your clothes off, and hold you close so I feel your warm soft body next to mine.” He lifts your head up, gently lying it down on the sofa. Standing up and scooping you up into his arms, holding you to his bare chest.

Satoru croons "You're definitely tired if you're not taking the chance to thank your heroic wonderful boyfriend in kisses when I'm saving you from walking." Slowly turning your head towards his chest and lazily puckering up your lips.

"Mwaaaa!" A yawn stretches out your kissing sound effect. Followed by an exaggerated one from Satoru. "Mwa." Your second one is barely audible.

"Aw beautiful you're making me sleepy too." There is a soft thud from his foot nudging the bedroom door open wider. "I need to show you how to properly cover someone in kisses before I go to bed. So you'll have to stay awake a few minutes longer." Laying you down on your side of the bed.

Climbing on top, straddling your hips, cupping your face. His palm is warm, and the gentle, slow swipes of his thumb are soothing. "Let me see your pretty eyes one more time so I can see them in my dreams." Opening one eye, then another.

Satoru chuckles, "What a beautiful frog my love is! I'd love you if you were a worm. But would you love me if you were a worm, and I was a bird?" When you don't respond within seconds. He cries, "You hate me!" Slipping your fingers into his snow-white hair, and pulling him in for a sleepy, gentle kiss.

oreo creampie's m.list

tagging: @sabo-has-my-heart @tojislittleprincesss @finding-crow @nicktoon1344 @arminsumi

[fanficgirl429]

Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)

Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you

Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt

----

“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”

Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?

He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.

“Did you check your room?” you ask.

He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.

Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”

“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.

You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.

You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.

“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”

“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”

Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.

“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.

Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”

You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.

“And who’s house is this?” you question.

“We all live there together,” Abby states.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.

“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”

Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.

“What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.

You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”

Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”

“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.

Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”

Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.

“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.

“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.

Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.

Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.

—-

Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?

Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.

All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.

—-

The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.

The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.

As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.

Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.

“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.

“How do you know?” you hear him ask.

“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.

It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.

“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.

Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.

“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.

Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.

“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”

“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.

“She said that you have a crush on me.”

“Oh. Why would she say that?”

“She said that you told her you did.”

You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.

“I-uh-,” you stammer.

Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.

“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.

A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.

You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.

“Why did you stop?” you tease him.

He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.

[marvyu]

SO WHAT? YOU'RE NOT MY BOYFRIEND.

pairings. choi seungcheol x female reader genre(s). smut, fluff, angst

summary. your roommate ruins your date night and treats you with something better.

warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, jealousy, emotional confrontation, masturbation (Male and Female Receiving) clit stimulation, oral sex (Female Receiving) hair pulling, aftercare, dirty talk, overstimulation -- if i missed anything lmk!

It was another late night at the office, the clock nearing midnight as the soft hum of computers and the occasional shuffle of papers filled the air. You leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head and stifling a yawn. Across the room, Seungcheol was doing the same, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar glint. This had become your routine – working late into the night, side by side, before heading back to your shared apartment.

"Are you ready to call it a night?" Seungcheol asked, his voice breaking the silence.

You nodded, shutting down your computer. "Definitely. I think I’ve stared at this screen long enough to see the code in my sleep."

He chuckled, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "I know the feeling. Let's get out of here."

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the streets deserted and the air crisp. It was a short distance, just a few blocks, and the familiarity of the path made the silence comfortable. When you reached the apartment, Seungcheol unlocked the door and held it open for you, a small gesture that always made you smile.

Once inside, the routine continued. You dropped your bags by the door, kicked off your shoes, and headed to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?" you called over your shoulder.

"Sure, just water for me," he replied, disappearing into his room to change out of his work clothes.

You poured two glasses of water and settled onto the couch, waiting for him to return. Moments later, he emerged in his usual post-work attire – gray sweatpants and a plain T-shirt, looking effortlessly handsome. He joined you on the couch, taking his glass with a grateful nod.

"Long day," he said, taking a sip.

"Tell me about it," you replied, leaning back against the cushions. "I don't know how much longer I can keep up with these late nights."

He turned to you, a playful smirk on his lips. "You say that every night, and yet here we are."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Yeah, yeah. Don't remind me."

This was your life – a blend of work and personal time that blurred the lines between professional and intimate. Seungcheol was more than just a co-worker; he was your confidant, your roommate, and the one constant in your hectic life. The nights often ended like this, with the two of you sitting close, sharing quiet moments that hinted at something more.

It had started innocently enough, a mutual attraction that neither of you had acknowledged at first. But late nights at the office had a way of breaking down barriers, and before long, your relationship had shifted into something physical. There was an unspoken agreement between you – no strings attached, no complications, just a way to unwind after the stress of the day. And it worked, for the most part.

The routine was simple and comforting. After sharing a drink and some light conversation, the atmosphere would naturally shift. Seungcheol would give you that look, the one that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that promised escape from the day's stress and a dive into something much more exhilarating.

"Ready for bed?" he would ask, though the question always held a double meaning.

"Yeah," you’d reply, though the answer was never just about sleep.

You both moved with a practiced ease, the kind that comes from familiarity and mutual understanding. There were no awkward hesitations or second guesses – just a smooth transition from the living room to the bedroom. Seungcheol would wrap his arms around you from behind as you brushed your teeth, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a thrill through you. These moments of quiet intimacy were as much a part of your routine as the more passionate encounters that followed.

In the bedroom, the air would be thick with anticipation. Seungcheol had a way of looking at you that made you feel like the most important person in the world. He was attentive, always knowing exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. It was this unspoken connection that made your arrangement work so well. He understood you, and you understood him.

He would start slowly, his touch gentle yet firm, his kisses soft but growing more urgent as the moments passed. There was a rhythm to it, a dance that you both knew the steps to by heart. The way his hands roamed your body, the way he whispered your name – it was a routine that brought both of you immense comfort and satisfaction.

"You're so beautiful," he'd murmur against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

"And you're insufferable," you'd tease back, your breath hitching as his hands found their way to your most sensitive spots.

But beneath the teasing and the passion, there was a deeper connection. The routine was more than just physical release; it was a way for both of you to unwind and find solace in each other. The world outside could be chaotic and demanding, but in those moments, everything else faded away.

Afterwards, you would lie together in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, the post-coital glow making everything feel warm and safe. Seungcheol would hold you close, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. It was in these quiet moments that you felt the most at peace.

"You should try to get some sleep," he'd whisper, his breath warm against your ear.

"I will," you'd reply, though you often found yourself staying awake a little longer, savoring the feeling of his body next to yours.

One morning, as you and Seungcheol were enjoying a lazy breakfast together, you decided to share some news that had been on your mind. It was your day off, and the apartment was filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of the radio playing in the background. You had been chatting casually about work and plans for the day when you took a deep breath and decided to bring it up.

"Hey, Seungcheol," you started, trying to keep your tone light and casual, "I wanted to let you know that I’m bringing a friend over tonight. His name is Haru."

Seungcheol's reaction was subtle, but you noticed it immediately. His grip on his coffee mug tightened slightly, and there was a brief flash of something in his eyes – jealousy, perhaps? – before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.

"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "A friend, huh? What's the occasion?"

You shrugged, trying to hide your own nervousness. "Just thought it would be nice to hang out. Haru and I have been talking for a while, and I thought it would be good to introduce him to you."

There was a beat of silence as Seungcheol processed this information. He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes studying you over the rim of his mug. "I see. Well, it’s your place too. You can invite whoever you want."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. You had expected some sort of reaction from Seungcheol, but his indifference felt almost worse than outright disapproval. You couldn’t quite place it, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air now, a silent understanding that things might be changing.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity as you prepared for Haru’s visit. You spent hours cleaning the apartment, making sure everything was perfect. The kitchen was spotless, the living room was tidy, and you even put fresh sheets on the guest bed just in case. All the while, Seungcheol watched you with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

"You're really going all out for this guy, huh?" he remarked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen as you bustled around.

"Well, I want to make a good impression," you replied, trying to sound casual. "It's important to me."

Seungcheol just nodded, his expression unreadable. "If you say so."

As the day wore on, your excitement grew, but so did your anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Seungcheol's reaction than he was letting on. You had always valued your relationship with him, but you also knew that things couldn't stay the same forever. Introducing someone new into your life felt like a step forward, but it also felt like a step away from the comfortable routine you had built with Seungcheol.

The afternoon sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the apartment. You found yourself glancing at the clock more often than usual, your heart beating a little faster with each passing minute. You had spent so much time with Seungcheol, sharing laughs, secrets, and intimate moments, that the thought of changing that dynamic was both thrilling and terrifying.

Seungcheol, meanwhile, tried to focus on his own tasks. He moved around the apartment with an air of forced nonchalance, his usual confidence replaced with a slight edge of unease. He couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that gnawed at him, but he also didn't want to overstep any boundaries. You were free to see whoever you wanted, and he had no right to interfere. Still, the thought of you being with someone else made his chest tighten.

"Need any help with dinner?" Seungcheol offered, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between you.

You looked up from the vegetables you were chopping and smiled. "Sure, you can set the table."

As he busied himself with plates and cutlery, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal glances at you. There was a lightness in your step, a brightness in your eyes that he hadn't seen before. It was clear that you were genuinely excited about Haru's visit, and that realization made his heart ache just a little bit more.

"What's he like?" Seungcheol asked, trying to sound casual.

"Haru?" You paused, thinking about how to describe him. "He's sweet, funny, and really kind. We've been talking a lot, and I think there's something special between us."

Seungcheol nodded, forcing a smile. "That's great. I'm glad you're happy."

You sensed the underlying tension in his words but chose not to push it. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, preparing a meal that you hoped would impress Haru. As the aroma of cooking filled the apartment, you allowed yourself to relax, reminding yourself that this was a positive step forward.

By the time evening rolled around, everything was ready. The table was set, the food was prepared, and you had even taken the time to freshen up and change into something nice. As you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead.

Just as you were about to head back to the living room, there was a knock at the door. Your heart leaped in your chest, and you quickly moved to answer it. Opening the door, you were greeted by Haru's warm smile.

"Hey," he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Come in."

Haru stepped inside, and you took a moment to admire him. He was tall and lean, with dark hair that fell slightly over his eyes and a charming, easygoing demeanor. He wore a casual outfit – jeans and a fitted shirt that showed off his athletic build. There was an air of confidence about him that put you at ease and made you feel excited about the evening ahead.

As you led Haru into the apartment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. You had worked hard to make everything perfect, and now it was time to see how the evening would unfold. You guided him to the living room, where the table was set, and the aroma of the dinner you had prepared filled the air.

"This looks fantastic," Haru said, glancing around appreciatively. "You really went all out."

You smiled, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction. "I just wanted to make sure you felt welcome."

Just as you were about to introduce him to Seungcheol, you heard the sound of a door opening behind you. Seungcheol stepped out of his room, wearing his usual post-work attire of gray sweatpants and no shirt. His appearance was casual, yet it held an undeniable magnetism.

His well-defined muscles, honed from hours at the gym, moved with an effortless grace. His broad shoulders and chiseled chest caught the light just right, casting shadows that emphasized his sculpted physique. But it was his face that truly captivated – a strong, chiseled jawline framed a mouth that could shift from a teasing smile to a serious line in an instant. His dark hair was tousled, giving him an endearingly roguish look, while his eyes, a piercing shade of deep brown, held an intensity that made it hard to look away.

There was a certain scent about him, a mix of clean soap and something distinctly his, that lingered in the air and made your heart race. As he moved, there was an air of confidence and quiet strength about him, yet a hint of vulnerability in the way his eyes flickered over to you, just for a moment, before settling on Haru.

Seungcheol stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking onto Haru and then drifting down to where your hands were still connected. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, an awkward silence enveloping you all.

"Hey," Seungcheol finally said, his voice low and rich, like a warm breeze. "I didn't realize we had company."

You quickly dropped Haru's hand, feeling a bit flustered. "Seungcheol, this is Haru. Haru, this is my roommate, Seungcheol."

Haru extended a hand, smiling politely. "Nice to meet you."

Seungcheol glanced at the outstretched hand, his eyes narrowing slightly. He made no move to take it, instead crossing his arms over his chest, his expression remaining cool and unreadable. "Likewise," he said, his gaze never leaving Haru's face.

There was a palpable tension in the air, and you couldn't quite understand why. Seungcheol's usual easygoing demeanor seemed to have been replaced by something more guarded and intense. You brushed it off, attributing it to the sudden change in routine.

"Why don't you join us for dinner?" you suggested, trying to ease the awkwardness.

Seungcheol glanced at the table, then back at you. "I was just going to grab a snack," he said, his tone casual. "But thanks for the offer."

Ignoring the lingering tension, you led Haru to the dining table and gestured for him to sit. As you brought out the food, Seungcheol moved to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge with an air of nonchalance that seemed almost too forced. He emerged with a bottle of water and a snack, then leaned against the counter, watching you and Haru with a look that you couldn't quite decipher.

"So, how did you two meet?" Seungcheol asked, his voice cutting through the quiet conversation you were having with Haru.

"We met through a mutual friend," Haru explained, smiling at you. "It’s been really nice getting to know Y/N."

"That's great," Seungcheol replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Y/N is pretty amazing."

The compliment, though genuine, felt loaded with unspoken words. You glanced at Seungcheol, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression was unreadable. You turned your attention back to Haru, determined to make the evening enjoyable despite the strange undercurrent of tension.

As the evening progressed, the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly strained. You and Haru settled into a comfortable rhythm, your conversation flowing easily despite the occasional pointed look from Seungcheol. Haru seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, and you found yourself relaxing more with each passing minute. The food was delicious, and the atmosphere should have been perfect, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Seungcheol was watching your every move with a scrutinizing gaze.

"So, Haru," Seungcheol interjected suddenly, his voice slicing through the lighthearted chatter with the precision of a well-aimed dagger. "What line of work keeps you occupied?"

Haru looked up, momentarily startled by the abrupt inquiry. "I'm a graphic designer," he replied, offering a polite smile. "I work at a small agency downtown."

"Fascinating," Seungcheol drawled, leaning back in his chair with a languid grace that belied the intensity of his gaze. "It must be quite rewarding to indulge in such creative endeavors. Y/N and I, alas, are consigned to the monotonous world of numbers and figures."

You shot Seungcheol a pointed look, silently beseeching him to temper his remarks. However, he merely quirked an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as if he were savoring the undercurrent of tension he had created.

"It has its moments," Haru conceded, his smile faltering ever so slightly under the weight of Seungcheol's scrutiny. "I do enjoy the creative challenges."

"Good for you," Seungcheol replied, his tone laced with a veneer of civility that did little to mask the sarcasm lurking beneath. "It's always heartening to hear of someone finding fulfillment in their work."

Sensing the rising tension, you endeavored to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "Haru, you were telling me about that fascinating project with the interactive website. Do go on."

Haru's face brightened at the change of topic, and he launched into an enthusiastic description of his latest project. You listened with genuine interest, but you couldn't ignore the way Seungcheol's eyes kept flickering back to you, his expression a perplexing blend of amusement and something darker.

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol's interruptions grew more frequent and increasingly pointed. He made snarky comments about the food, pointed out trivial inconsistencies in Haru's stories, and even "accidentally" bumped into you as he moved about the apartment. Each incident seemed designed to unnerve Haru, whose initial charm was gradually giving way to visible discomfort.

"Excuse me," Seungcheol said at one point, reaching across the table with a deliberate nonchalance that belied his true intent. He managed to knock over Haru's glass of water, sending a cascade of liquid across the table. "Oops. My apologies."

You quickly grabbed a towel to mop up the spill, your frustration simmering just below the surface. "It's fine," you said through clenched teeth, attempting to maintain your composure. "No harm done."

Haru forced a smile, but the strain was evident in his eyes. "It's okay," he murmured, though his voice lacked its earlier warmth.

Seungcheol's behavior was wearing on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was acting this way. He had never been so openly antagonistic before, and it was starting to fray your patience. All you wanted was to enjoy your evening with Haru, but Seungcheol seemed hell-bent on making that impossible.

The final straw came when Seungcheol "accidentally" brushed against Haru's arm as he walked past, causing Haru to drop his fork with a loud clatter. The sound reverberated through the tense silence, amplifying the growing discord.

"Seriously?" you snapped, your eyes flashing with indignation as you glared at Seungcheol. "Can you please give us a moment's peace?"

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his expression one of feigned innocence. "I was merely getting a drink," he said, holding up his glass as if to underscore his point.

"Well, can you manage it without causing a scene?" you retorted, your frustration boiling over.

Haru placed a soothing hand on your arm, his touch gentle and calming. "It's okay, Y/N," he said softly, his eyes beseeching you to let it go. "Really, it's fine."

But it wasn't fine. You could see the hurt and confusion in Haru's eyes, and it only fueled your anger further. Seungcheol was ruining what should have been a pleasant evening, and you were at a loss to understand why.

The tension in the room had reached a palpable peak, a silent battle of wills between Seungcheol and Haru with you caught in the crossfire. The evening that you had hoped would be a pleasant introduction of new possibilities had turned into a minefield of unspoken emotions and escalating conflict.

Seungcheol's final act of sabotage came as the three of you attempted to settle down in the living room. You had just suggested watching a movie, hoping it might diffuse the tension, when Seungcheol abruptly stood up, his eyes glinting with barely concealed irritation.

"I don't think this is working out," he announced, his voice ringing with a finality that froze you in place. He turned to Haru, his expression hardening. "I think it's time for you to leave."

Haru's eyes widened in shock, his calm demeanor slipping as he struggled to process Seungcheol's blunt dismissal. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"You heard me," Seungcheol replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "This isn't your place, and I think it's best if you leave now."

You felt a rush of anger and embarrassment flood your cheeks. "Seungcheol, what the hell are you doing?" you demanded, stepping between him and Haru. "You can't just kick him out like this!"

Seungcheol's eyes met yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. "I'm doing what needs to be done," he said, his tone unyielding.

Haru stood up, his expression a mixture of hurt and frustration. "It's okay, Y/N," he said, his voice resigned. "I'll go. This isn't worth the trouble."

You turned to Haru, your heart sinking. "I'm so sorry, Haru. This is not how I wanted tonight to go."

Haru managed a small, sad smile. "It's not your fault," he said softly. "I'll call you later."

As Haru gathered his things and headed for the door, you felt a pang of guilt and regret. This was supposed to be a simple, pleasant evening, and now it was ending in disaster. Once the door closed behind Haru, the silence in the apartment was deafening.

You turned to Seungcheol, your anger boiling over. "What the hell was that for?" you shouted, your voice shaking with fury. "You just ruined my date! Why would you do that?"

Seungcheol's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and something else you couldn't quite place. "He wasn't right for you," he said flatly.

"That's not for you to decide!" you shot back, your frustration reaching a breaking point. "You had no right to interfere like that. Haru is a good guy, and you just humiliated him for no reason!"

Seungcheol took a step closer, his presence towering over you. "I couldn't just stand by and watch you pretend everything was fine when it clearly wasn't," he said, his voice low and intense. "You deserve better than some guy who doesn't even know you."

"Better?" you echoed, incredulous. "And who are you to say what I deserve? You've made it very clear that our...whatever this is...doesn't mean anything beyond a few nights of fun. You don't get to dictate who I see or don't see."

Seungcheol's eyes darkened, his frustration matching your own. "Is that what you think?" he demanded, his voice rough with emotion. "That this doesn't mean anything to me?"

You crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the vulnerability his words evoked. "What else am I supposed to think? You keep things casual, no strings attached. That's what we agreed on."

"And maybe I was wrong," Seungcheol said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "Maybe I want more than that. Maybe I want you."

The words hung in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered confession that left you reeling. You searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he was playing with you, but all you saw was sincerity and a depth of emotion that took your breath away.

The silence following Seungcheol's confession was thick with tension, each second stretching like an eternity. You stood there, heart pounding, grappling with the raw honesty of his words. The anger that had fueled your argument moments ago was now mingled with confusion and a flicker of something unnamed and unsettling.

"Y/N," Seungcheol began, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I mean it. I want you."

You opened your mouth to respond, to argue, but before you could utter a single word, Seungcheol closed the distance between you. His hands cupped your face with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his emotions, and then his lips were on yours, silencing your protests in an instant.

The kiss was both unexpected and overwhelming. Seungcheol's lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. For a moment, you were lost in the sensation, the world narrowing to the points where your bodies connected. His kiss was demanding yet tender, a blend of passion and desperation that made your heart race.

But just as quickly, the reality of the situation crashed back over you. You pulled away, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. "No," you said, shaking your head as if to clear it. "You don't get to do that."

Seungcheol's eyes searched yours, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his face. "Y/N, I—"

"No," you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. "You can't just kiss me and expect everything to be okay. You don't get to treat me like some casual hookup and then suddenly decide you want more. It doesn't work like that."

Seungcheol took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides. "That's not what I'm doing," he said, his voice low but steady. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it?" you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture. "Because all you've ever wanted from me is something casual. And now, after ruining my date, you think you can just change the rules?"

"Y/N, please," Seungcheol pleaded, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "Just listen to me."

You hesitated, the sincerity in his voice giving you pause. "Fine," you said, your tone still guarded. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. "I know I've been an idiot," he began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "I've been hiding how I really feel because I was scared. Scared of messing things up between us, scared of losing you if it didn't work out."

You frowned, your anger slowly giving way to confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how much you mean to me," Seungcheol said, taking a step closer. "I'm talking about how I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else because it makes me realize just how much I care about you. This isn't just some fling for me, Y/N. It never was."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw honesty in his expression. It was a side of Seungcheol you hadn't seen before, and it left you reeling.

"But you never said anything," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "You never gave me any indication that you felt this way."

"I know," Seungcheol admitted, his voice thick with regret. "And I'm sorry for that. I thought I could keep things casual, that it would be easier that way. But seeing you with Haru... it made me realize that I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that what we have doesn't mean everything to me."

You stared at him, your mind racing as you tried to process everything he was saying. The anger that had fueled your argument was slowly giving way to a deeper, more complex mix of emotions. Part of you wanted to believe him, to take the leap and see where it could lead. But another part of you was still hurt, still wary of getting your heart broken.

The silence hung heavy between you, laden with the weight of unspoken words and the raw, intense emotions that Seungcheol’s confession had unearthed. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that he rarely showed. And in that moment, your resolve began to waver.

“Seungcheol,” you began, your voice trembling, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering. “Just let me show you how I feel.”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fervent and tender. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt your body respond to his touch, the anger and confusion melting away, replaced by a burning desire.

His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours with a sensuality that made your knees weak. You clung to him, your hands tangling in his hair as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment. Seungcheol’s hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting a fire in your veins.

He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I need you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. “I need you to know how much you mean to me.”

You nodded, unable to find your voice. He took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, each step filled with anticipation and unspoken promises. Once inside, he turned to you, his gaze smoldering.

“Undress for me,” he commanded softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

With trembling hands, you complied, shedding your clothes until you stood bare before him. Seungcheol’s eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of awe and desire. He stepped closer, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

You nodded again, your breath hitching as his hands trailed down your body, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He knelt before you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin.

The sensation was electric, and you felt a surge of arousal as his mouth moved closer to your core. He parted your folds with his fingers, his tongue flicking over your clit with a skill that made you gasp. Seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue and lips working in tandem to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.

“Oh, God, Seungcheol,” you moaned, your hands fisting in his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

He hummed in response, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you. His tongue circled your clit, teasing and tormenting you until you were trembling with need. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot, and you cried out, your body arching towards him.

Seungcheol didn’t relent, his mouth and fingers working together to drive you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building, a coil tightening in your belly, and then it snapped, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as you came, your cries echoing in the room.

He didn’t stop, his movements gentle as he coaxed you through the aftershocks, his eyes never leaving your face. When you finally came down, he stood, his fingers trailing your slick arousal up to your lips.

“Open,” he instructed, and you obeyed, taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. The look of pure desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and you sucked his fingers clean, reveling in the way he watched you.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble. He kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. You could taste yourself on his lips, the mingling of flavors heightening your arousal once more.

Seungcheol broke the kiss, his hands moving to undo his pants. “Lie down,” he instructed, and you did, stretching out on the bed, your body still humming with the remnants of your orgasm.

He shed his clothes quickly, his erection standing proud as he joined you on the bed. He knelt between your legs, his eyes drinking in the sight of you spread out before him. “I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice thick with need.

He took his cock in hand, stroking it slowly as he watched you. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, and you complied, your fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles as you watched him.

Seungcheol groaned, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watched you pleasure yourself. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “Make yourself come for me.”

You bit your lip, your fingers moving faster, the combination of his gaze and the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. “Seungcheol,” you moaned, your body tensing as you felt your orgasm building once more.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “Come for me, Y/N.”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a cry, your body trembling with the force of your release. Seungcheol watched you, his hand moving faster on his cock as he brought himself to the brink.

He leaned over you, his eyes burning with need. “I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice a raw whisper. “I need to feel you.”

You nodded, spreading your legs wider in invitation. Seungcheol positioned himself at your entrance, his cock slick with your arousal. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.

He set a slow, steady pace, each thrust deep and deliberate. The pleasure built with each movement, the intensity of the connection between you making your head spin. Seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice a soft command. “I want to see you.”

You locked eyes with him, the depth of emotion in his gaze taking your breath away. The rhythm of his thrusts increased, the pleasure building to a fever pitch. He reached down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.

The combination was too much, and you felt yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, the intensity overwhelming. “Seungcheol,” you gasped, your body arching towards him.

“Come for me,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you come around me.”

His words sent you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. Seungcheol followed you, his release spilling into you as he groaned your name, the sensation of him filling you only heightening your pleasure.

He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. You turned to him, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. He pulled you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his hand smoothing over your hair.

You nodded, your heart full. “I’m more than okay,” you replied, your voice a whisper. “I’m perfect.”

Seungcheol smiled, his eyes warm with affection. “Good,” he said, pulling you even closer. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

The promise in his words wrapped around you, a comforting reassurance of the depth of his feelings. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. And that was all you needed.

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You stirred, nestled in the warmth of Seungcheol’s embrace, his arm draped protectively around your waist. For a moment, you lay still, savoring the tranquility of the morning, the quiet intimacy that enveloped you both.

Seungcheol shifted beside you, his eyes fluttering open. A slow smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of you in his arms. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, your own smile matching his.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "How did you sleep?" he asked, his lips trailing soft kisses down your temple and along your cheek.

"Better than I have in a long time," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gestures.

Seungcheol’s kisses continued, each one a tender promise of his feelings. He moved to your other cheek, then your nose, then your chin, covering your face with a constellation of soft, loving kisses. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation, your heart swelling with affection for the man beside you.

"Seungcheol," you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair as he nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"Hmm?" he hummed, his lips moving to your jawline.

"This is nice," you said, your voice soft. "I could get used to waking up like this."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. "So could I," he replied, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you softly on the lips.

Just as you were losing yourself in the sweetness of the moment, a familiar sound interrupted the tranquility. The door creaked open, and you felt a rush of fur and energy as Kkuma, Seungcheol’s dog, bounded into the room.

"Kkuma!" Seungcheol exclaimed with a laugh, sitting up as the dog jumped onto the bed, tail wagging furiously.

Kkuma wasted no time, planting herself between the two of you and showering Seungcheol with enthusiastic licks. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the dog’s antics bringing a lightness to the room.

"Kkuma, stop," Seungcheol said, though his laughter belied any real annoyance. He scratched behind the dog’s ears, giving her the attention she so eagerly sought. "You’re interrupting a very important moment, you know."

You smiled, reaching out to pet Kkuma as well. "I think she’s just making sure we’re both awake," you said, your heart full as you watched the playful interaction between Seungcheol and his beloved pet.

Kkuma’s presence had an undeniable way of lightening the mood, her joyful energy infectious. She turned her attention to you, her eyes bright with curiosity. You scratched her behind the ears, earning a contented sigh as she settled down between you and Seungcheol.

The three of you lay there for a while, enjoying the peaceful morning. 

"Y/N," Seungcheol said softly, his hand finding yours under the covers. "About last night..."

You turned to him, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. "Yes?"

"I meant everything I said," he continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I want to be with you. For real. No more pretending, no more keeping things casual."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the sincerity in his eyes nearly overwhelming. "I want that too, Seungcheol," you whispered, squeezing his hand. "I want to be with you."

He smiled, a look of pure relief and happiness washing over his face. "Then let’s do it," he said, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with a gentle, lingering sweetness that left no doubt about his feelings.

Kkuma, not to be left out, nudged her way between you once more, her tail thumping against the bed as she demanded attention. You both laughed, the moment made all the more perfect by her playful interruption.

As the morning sun continued to rise, you and Seungcheol talked about your future, about the possibilities that lay ahead. There was a sense of hope and excitement, a feeling that together, you could face whatever came your way.

© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

[moonstruckme]

a thought:

reader is literally so grouchy and bratty and tired and is accidentally snapping at (whoever u want) and thennn they take initiative to casual dominance her to take a nap after some tea and it’s just so crazy fluffy!!!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: d/s dynamics

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

You’d claimed to want to read with Remus on the couch, but you keep huffing like your book is your least favorite thing in the world. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, rubbing a slow back and forth with his thumb in an attempt to pacify you. He knows precisely what this mood is about. 

“Ugh, this construction noise is the worst!” You glare out the window as if hoping the men across the street will see. 

“Why don’t you use my headphones and try to have a nap, dove,” Remus suggests mildly. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, sounds like it’s catching up to you.” 

You bristle at the implication. “I’m not tired, I’m just sick of this. Nobody asked for the road to be redone. It was perfectly fine before.” 

Remus shoots you a sideways look. The road outside your house was riddled with potholes, and you both know it. If you were in a better mood, you’d be baking cookies for the construction workers to thank them. 

You ignore it, huffing again. “I’m gonna get some dinner,” you say, setting your book down roughly as you stand. 

“Last night’s leftovers are in the fridge.” 

“Don’t feel like those.” 

Remus gives your bum a light swat through your sweatpants as you go by. “Eat something real,” he warns. 

You make a vexed harrumphing sound. He chooses not to hear it. 

What he does hear, less than a minute later, is popcorn popping in the microwave. Remus sighs through his nose, tenting his book on the coffee table and pursuing you into the kitchen. You don’t turn around as his footsteps approach. 

“Dove.” Remus takes your hips, turning you manually. “That’s not a real dinner.” 

You shrug, obstinate. Your stare looks like you’re itching for a fight. “It’s what I feel like.” 

“You haven’t had anything with a vegetable in it all day. You need to pick something else.” 

You roll your eyes, turning back around. Ignoring him. Remus hits the button to shut off the microwave. 

You spin back around, eyes flashing. “You can’t—” 

“That’s enough.” He takes your jaw in his hand, your chin resting at the apex of his thumb and forefinger. “You’re being a brat,” he says in a low, steady voice, “because you’re sleepy and probably because you haven’t eaten a real meal since yesterday. That stops now. You’re going to eat the dinner you made yesterday, which you liked, and then go have a nap. Understand?” 

Remus isn’t really irritated with you. You’re being unruly, sure, but these moods always end once you get what you’re looking for from him. Now he’s given you it, you’ll calm down. 

It’s fucking precious, the way your temper melts away under his hard gaze. Your eyes round out and your head sits heavier in his hand, remorse finding its way into your expression. 

“Sorry,” you say, tone about ten degrees milder than it had just been. 

Remus rolls his eyes at you, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “I know, darling. You can still make it up to me. Heat up those leftovers, okay?” 

You hum, and he lets you go, kissing the hill of your cheek. 

A minute later, you join him in the living room, curling up next to him on the couch while you eat and he reads. Your posture is already less rigid, the both of you enveloped in companionable silence and the smell of warm food. Your fork clinks as you set your plate down on the coffee table, and when you don’t get up to go to bed, Remus looks over at you. Your eyes are already on him, a question in them.

He fights to repress the smile that curves his lips. “What?” 

“Can I sleep here?” you ask hopefully. “Would it distract you if I put my head on your lap?” 

Remus coos. “No, sweetheart, of course you can.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you’re already lying down, him uncrossing his legs to make his lap more comfortable for you. “You’re not still mad at me?” 

He tsks, petting your hair while you get comfortable. “I’m not. Wanna know a secret?” 

You hum, eyes already closing. 

“I’m never really mad at you, dove.”

[evie-sturns]

5 times you pissed Matt off today, 1 time he did something about it.

summary: you've been self-centered and bratty to matt 5 times today, 1 time he puts you in your place.

warnings: smut, nsfw, teasing, fingering, orgasm denial, small use of bondage, swearing.

-----------------------.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.---------------——

1.

i stay perfectly still on the couch next to matt, i'm a solid meter away from him as i stare directly at the tv, the glare from the screen being the only light in the room.

i feel matt's eyes burning into me from the side, his arm reaches round and his cold fingers graze my bare thigh. i don't bat an eye towards him, keeping my eyes fixed on the movie.

he scoots closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me closer to him. he leans down, placing a kiss to my lips which i dodge.

his eyebrows scrunch, his arm rubbing my lower back. "you okay?" he whispers. i shoot him a side-eye before moving back over to 'my side' of the couch.

"i said are you okay?" he repeats himself, slightly louder this time.

"you okay you okay!" i mock him, he shakes his head quickly with his eyes shut "what?" he says, almost shocked.

"c'mere" he says, grabbing my thigh. i grip his wrist, pushing him off me with a "bro, fuck off of me."

his eyebrows scrunch "new nickname?" matt laughs, he thinks i'm joking.

"not a 'fuckin nickname." i say, heaving myself up off the couch. i walk out of the living room in a strop.

2.

i walk into the kitchen, matts standing over the stovetop. "making lunch, do you wanna help?" he asks me with a small smile.

"why would i wanna help..." i reply back, his eyebrows knit together, "just tryna be nice? are you okay?" he mumbles,

"am i okay? i'm alive and fucking breathing im fine matt!" i say, my tone bratty as i fold my arms.

matt turns back around, keeping his eye on what hes cooking up. i jump up onto the countertop, my eyes fixed on what hes doing.

i jump down and stand next to him, letting out irritatingly obvious breaths from behind him.

after another minute of silence i decide to break it instead of keeping up my 'obvious' hints. "why aren't you offering for me to help!" i say, he laughs slightly

"stop laughing matt" i groan, he looks down to his side at me "i asked you if you wanted to help and you gave me a pretty harsh no, i didn't know you changed your mind so quickly?"

i scoff, grabbing the spoon off him and starting to mix, he runs a hand through his hair as he watches me. he reaches a hand down to tie up my hair, instead i pull away

"my hairs fine! i can do it myself."

3.

i sit up against matt and i's headboard on our bed, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as i try to wind down for bed, i hear several soft taps on the door before matt walks in, he looks around.

"its a bit messy in here" he laughs as he looks around at the clothes i wore today spread across the floor, our bed is decorated in skincare products after my extensive night routine.

"not really" i shrug, tying my hair above my head.

he bends over, scooping up my clothes and shoving them in the closet,

matt walks over to the bed, reaching out to pick up the bottles of serum on our bed.

"matt no! you're gonna break them stop" i whine, "sweetheart half of the lids are off they're going to spill on the sheets." he sighs, going to pick the small containers up again.

i sit up, crossing my legs as i push his chest away, keeping up my stubborn mood.

"look at me, i'm getting into bed now and if you want your 'fuckin potions to spill then you can, but i'm telling you to move them yeah?" matt says in a serious tone, i shake my head.

he folds his tattooed arm as he looks down at me pouting on the bed, my pyjama shirt clinging to my body.

he leans over and picks me out of bed, placing me down on the arm chair in the corner of the room before cleaning up all of my products.

"matt-ugh!" i protest, throwing my head back into the comfy pink chair that matt let me pick out just over a week ago.

4.

"chris and nick are coming over, we're discussing video ideas okay?" matt says to me calmly. i nod "when?"

"they're pulling up now, but they will be here for a while so you're gonna be alone for a bit okay?" he continues, i hum in response with a small sigh afterwards.

after a handful of minutes nick and chris swing open the door, i run up to them, giving them a hug.

"its been so long!" i smile, "yeah i swear i've been in hibernation" nick laughs, placing his bag down and flopping down on the couch, chris follows along with matt next to them.

chris instantly starts speaking, "i think we should do a actual camping video, like out in the fucking wilderness" he says, reading off of his notes app.

"absolutely the fuck not, you can remove that from your list" nick laughs,

i slowly walk towards matt and i's room, already bored. i lay spread across the bed, mindlesly scrolling through instagram.

i hear the distant chatters of the triplets from the other room, i open messages,

matt

matt

matt

-read: 9:34pm

i spam texts, after a few minutes he walks into my room "you okay? whats wrong." he asks me, holding the door open

i sit up in bed, walking over to him "matt... i'm bored." i say, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"i know, i'll be another hour i'm sorry." matt whispers, "no stay here matt please." i protest, matt shakes his head. i don't let him go, clinging to him with a over-dramatic pout.

he scoops me up with a sigh, carrying me out into the living room where nick and chris sit still yapping on about video ideas. matt sits down, placing me on his lap. i lay against his stomach, throwing my head back on his shoulder.

each time matt talks i feel his chest move, shifting me slightly.

after a couple of minutes i start to fidget with the loose fabric on his shirt with a small exhale, "matt" i whisper, barely audible. he shifts his gaze towards me,

"mm?" he hums, "how much longer." i breathe out resulting in matt huffing with a roll of his eyes,

"can you be patient? c'mon." matt says, his tone serious.

5.

chris and nick just left, matt's gone silent now as we both stand by the door.

"whats up with you today?" matt asks, folding his arms. i look up at him with a shrug, "thats like what, 4 times now you've acted bratty?" matt states

"what are you trying to say matt!" i snap back at him, he scoffs.

"are you serious? you've been on my last nerve for the past 12 hours what's actually going on with you today." he says, i laugh

"sorry that you're being sensitive matt." i say, purposley pushing his buttons which i assume worked

he grabs my wrist firmly, dragging me over into our bedroom "matt let me go!" i protest, matt stays silent, his jaw clenched and lips pursed.

"put your arms up." matt says,

the best sex we have is when hes angry so i can't turn down this opportunity.

i lift my arms up with a eye roll, matt practically tears my baby pink tank top off my body, discarding it to the other side of our room.

he lifts me up before throwing me down onto the mattress, his hands getting a firm grip on the waistband of my pyjama shorts, he pulls them down my legs,

i have a smug smirk painted across my face which matt seems to notice, "think this is funny yeah?" matt asks, my smile only grows.

he leans down, his mouth inline with my ear "you aren't gonna be smiling like that once i've pushed you to your absolute limits." he whispers

my smile drops, my mind now fogging with scenarios.

he unbuckles his belt, pulling it through the hoops of his jeans. instead of pulling his jeans down he keeps them buttoned, him fully clothed and me bare infront of him

he gently grabs my two wrists before tying them together, he doesnt make the belt tight because even after everything i've done he doesn't want to physically hurt me.

he takes a firm grip of the insides of my thighs, pushing them open.

his fingers graze across my thighs, covering every inch of skin execpt for where i crave him most.

i whine, bucking my hips up into his fingers which causes him to smirk. "matt.." i groan

"i don't wanna hear it." he instantly replies

he continues to drag his fingers across my lower stomach, hips, inner thighs. i throw my head back, squeezing my eyes shut as the heat between my thighs grows painfully.

"matt.. 'm sorry." i give in he shakes his head, "wanna hear that louder." matt says,

"i'm sorry! please- fuck." i raise my voice in frustration.

"please what, what do you actually fucking want." he says

"touch me please! i need your hands oh my god." i almost beg him, "you do?" he teases

"i do please- please please.." i repeat myself.

he finally gives in, pressing two fingers inside of me easily after how worked up he's got me. i let out a breathless moan as he curls his fingers inside of me, repeatedly hitting a spot which is driving me crazy.

"you think you deserve this?" matt says, i hesitate before shaking my head 'no'.

he nods before pulling his fingers out of me, i sigh now feeling empty and on edge.

matt unbuttons his jeans, letting them fall down to his ankles. he pulls off his boxers.

hes fully hard, his tip the same shade as his lips and now dripping pre-cum.

i clench around nothing as he presses his tip to my hole, resting comfortably as he stares into my eyes, his eyebrows slightly raises.

hes waiting for me to speak, i'm willing to do anything at this point so i start

"matt please, i need to feel you inside me. i'll do anything please, matt please." i say, maintaining eye contact as i look at him with doe eyes.

he presses the tip inside of me, before stopping his movements.

he pulls out, i throw my head back in frustration "please!" i raise my voice.

i'm actually not sure how matts keeping his composure, i think i've pissed him off so much now he doesn't even care about himself he just wants to push me.

"im so sorry matt i just- i was in a weird mood." i say, which seems to be enough for matt to give in

he presses his length into me bottoming out, i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip, feeling him push against my walls.

"fuck- thank you." i sigh, earning a small laugh from matt

he doesn’t waste time on picking up his pace, repeatedly slamming inside of me

my desperate moans echo through out bedroom,

“acting like a brat all day? having an attitude and now your begging for my cock?” he says, his hair flopping against his pale forehead with each thrust

i hum in response, my voice breaking as he reaches a hand down and pinches my clit

“shit! i promise i didn’t mean to!” i shout,

matt shakes his head, his thrusts become messy as i feel my stomach tighten, my orgasm rapidly approaching.

“don’t cum.” matt says as i clench around him

“i can’t!” i instantly reply, my voice whiny.

“you will.”

with each second that passes i feel the knot in my stomach tighten,

i can’t help it anymore and i release with a pornographic scream of his name, matt never stops thrusting in and out of my hole, chasing his own orgasm.

i try to squirm but the fact my wrists are tied above my head aren’t helping me,

the sensitivity clouds my brain as i feel a mix of pain and pleasure “matt ‘m sore” i manage to say, fully dumb fucked.

“i’m not.” matt replies, his voice strained,

i hear several whimpers fall from his mouth before he thrusts into me a final time, coating my insides white.

he pulls out of me, collapsing on the bed next to me.

we lay in silence for a few minutes, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

he sits up and reaches for my wrists, untying the belt around them.

“was that too much? are you okay sweetheart i’m sorry.” matt says, still out of breath

“i’m- i..” i try to squeeze out a sentence but it just results in us both dying laughing

“i think i need a minute” i smile, rubbing my eyes. matt pulls me onto his lap, stroking my hair as he pecks kisses all over my face.

—

i said i wasn’t gonna post this today but i lied

[julesinsummer]

Baby Fever | Theodore Nott x Reader

theodore nott x pregnant!reader | fluff

in which theo is adamant about his daughter's name

"This is insanity, Theodore!" she shouted, flinging her hands up in annoyance.

"It is very reasonable!" Theo yelled back, tangling his hands in his hair and pulling slightly.

Theo began to pace back and forth, shaking his head. y/n rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You cannot be serious right now."

"I am!" he replied, dropping his hands to his sides as he looked at her.

There she was, his wife, standing in their living room, looking pristine as always. Her hair was in perfect condition and her eyes shone brightly as they always had. It was hard for him to stay mad at her when she just looked so ethereal.

"I'm nine months pregnant, Theo. Stop looking at me like that," y/n deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest. Theo let out a small chuckle, all the frustration he had felt moments prior fading away.

He stalked over to his wife, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head and wrapping his arms around her frame. "I'm sorry, my love."

y/n melted into the embrace, closing her eyes contentedly. "'s alright, baby."

"So is it completely out of the question to name her-"

"One hundred percent out of the question."

"But it's-"

"I said no," y/n said with finality, poking Theo in the ribs playfully. "I'm not naming my daughter Theodora after you. She gets your last name and that is more than enough."

Theo sighed and let go of y/n, keeping a light touch on her hips. "Fine, fine. Can we name her y/n junior then?"

y/n laughed loudly, putting her hands on her protruding stomach. "I think that's better than Theodora, at least."

-

"So did you get your way?" Draco asked Theo as he emerged from the labor and delivery wing of St. Mungos. He had a smug grin on his face as he looked at Nott's blanched face.

Theo shook his head slowly. "No, but I think it's just set in that I'm a father."

Pansy stood and gave Theo a polite tap on the shoulder. "You'll make a decent one," she stated in the softest tone she could muster. "What's her name, anyways?"

"y/n named her," Theo beamed, the light from his smile illuminating the small waiting room where his friends stood. "Isabelle, after my mom."

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: your adopted family may be chaotic but you wouldn’t change it for the world

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen: Jailhouse Rock

It’s an ungodly hour of the morning when your phone rings. You groan, fumbling blindly on the nightstand to silence the offender. The name glowing on the screen gives you pause: Max Verstappen.

“Seb,” you mumble, nudging your husband awake. “Max is calling. It’s 3 am.”

Sebastian grumbles something unintelligible, face squished into the pillow next to you.

“You take it,” you insist, poking him again, “I spent three hours on the phone with Lewis last night promising him that Roscoe doesn’t hate him for being left at home this weekend.”

Reluctantly, Sebastian sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He swipes to answer, his groggy voice filling the silent room. “Max, do you know what time it is?”

You hear a hurried explanation from Max’s end, something about a go-kart race, a party, and a tiny misunderstanding with local law enforcement. Your husband’s face becomes more incredulous with every word.

“Wait, you’re where?”

***

Ten minutes later, you find yourselves at the police station, bleary-eyed but amused. Max is sat behind bars, a sheepish look on his face.

“I promise, it wasn’t my fault,” he insists, blue eyes pleading.

You both manage to suppress your laughter. After signing a few papers, Max is free but the smug grin on Sebastian’s face tells you that he’s not going to let him off that easy.

“So, this is our life now?” you whisper to Sebastian, wrapping your arm around his. “Running a day care for unruly F1 drivers.”

He chuckles, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

Charles Leclerc: Open the Floodgates

It’s a stormy evening when your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text message from Charles Leclerc: Hey, can I crash at yours? My flat’s kind of … flooded.

Sebastian, reading over your shoulder, raises an eyebrow. “Flooded?”

Before you can respond, a photo arrives — Charles’ living room, a sea of murky water with floating furniture: Okay, maybe more than just kind of.

You look at each other, suppressing laughter. “Guess we’re running a bed & breakfast now too,” you comment, already texting Charles back: Come over. Bring a mop.

***

Not an hour later, there’s a knock at your door. Charles, drenched from head to toe, stands at your doorstep, carrying what appears to be a plant pot with a small, equally wet cactus.

“I saved the cactus,” he says, looking as pitiful as a drowned rat, albeit a very cute one. He offers a half-hearted shrug, “I didn’t want it to drown.”

Sebastian bursts out laughing, his contagious mirth echoing around the hall. You can’t help but join in, hugging your sides in an attempt to remain composed.

“Well, come in. We can’t have you and the cactus catching a cold.”

***

Over the next few days, you quickly adapt to the unexpected housemate situation. Charles proves to be a surprisingly tidy guest, always washing his dishes and even cooking dinner one night (although you had to discreetly order pizza after trying his special lasagna).

In the evenings, the three of you curl up on the sofa with Sebastian’s old race replays, laughing and teasing each other. And every night, before he goes to his bed in the guest room, Charles says goodnight to his cactus — the newest member of your eccentric family.

Lance Stroll: The Cat-astrophe

A week later, you get a frantic call from Lance Stroll. “Guys, I found this cat,” he says, panting heavily, “It was all alone in the alley and I couldn't just leave it there.”

The line goes silent for a moment before Lance coughs then sneezes loudly. “Uh, guys, I think I might be allergic ...”

***

When Lance arrives, the culprit — a tiny, scruffy looking kitten — is perched on his shoulder while Lance himself is a picture of misery: puffy eyes, runny nose, and all.

Between his sneezes, Lance pleads, “Can you please keep her until I figure out what to do? I can’t just abandon her.”

You glance at Sebastian, who looks at the tiny furball with a mixture of amusement and concern. He’s been a dog person all his life but how can you say no to those pleading green eyes?

And so, your home expands to accommodate another kid — this time, a four-legged one.

***

The next few days are full of chaos. The kitten — whom Lance named Speedy — turns out to be an agent of destruction, knocking over everything in her path and giving Charles’ cactus a few worrying near misses.

You try to give Lance advice on finding a new home for Speedy while dealing with cat-proofing your own. But, during the ensuing pandemonium, you can’t help but laugh.

George Russell: The Shrunken Sweater Saga

One sunny afternoon, George Russell bursts through the door, a panicked expression on his face. “Guys, something terrible happened!”

Sebastian and you exchange a concerned look, jumping up from where you were cuddled on the couch. “What is it, George?”

He holds up a shrunken cashmere sweater, once a luxurious wardrobe piece, now resembling something only a toy poodle could wear. “I accidentally put all my sweaters in the washing machine! They’ve shrunk!”

As the reality of the situation sinks in, you can’t help but chuckle. “George, you do know cashmere isn’t machine-washable, right?”

“I thought they were!” he laments, looking at his miniature sweater in disbelief.

Sebastian claps a hand on George’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. We’ll figure this out.”

***

Over the next few days, you and Sebastian embark on a quest to save George’s beloved cashmere sweaters. Armed with online tutorials and gallons of fabric softener, you attempt various rescue techniques.

Some of the sweaters regain a semblance of their former glory while others are beyond saving. You present George with a colorful assortment of shrunken clothing which he accepts with an embarrassed grin.

***

A sudden thought strikes you and you can’t help but giggle. Holding up a particularly tiny sweater, you call out to Speedy.

“Look, Speedy! It’s your size!” you exclaim as you gently dress her in the shrunken garment. It fits her perfectly, making her look like the most stylish cat on the block.

The sight of Speedy strutting around in a cashmere sweater breaks all of you into laughter. Even George can’t help but chuckle, despite his heartbreaking loss.

***

In the following days, Speedy parades around the house, flaunting her new wardrobe. George’s shrunken sweaters have found a new purpose, and despite the initial panic, everything worked out in the end.

“This is the most high-fashion cat I’ve ever seen,” Sebastian comments one day, watching Speedy strut her stuff on the living room rug. “She should be on a runway.”

George, watching his beloved sweaters being put to good use, grins. “I think they look better on her than they did on me.”

Speedy watches you with a lazy stare, now comfortably nestled in her new family’s hearts (and cashmere sweaters).

Lando Norris: Call the Milk Man

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon when the doorbell rings, jolting you out of your peaceful nap. Groggily, you stumble towards the door, pulling it open to reveal a sheepish-looking Lando Norris.

“Hi, I was just wondering,” he starts, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “Do you have some milk I could borrow? I ran out and the shops are closed.”

Suppressing a smile, you nod, motioning for him to wait while you go fetch the milk.

***

When you hand Lando the milk, he seems relieved. But then, he looks at the container quizzically. “Why is it in a glass bottle? Don’t you use cartons?”

Your laughter fills the hallway as you explain your household’s eco-friendly policy. Lando listens attentively, his previous discomfort replaced with genuine curiosity. You can tell he’s taking mental notes.

***

Over the next few weeks, Lando pops by more frequently. Sometimes he borrows more milk, other times he just wants to chat about sustainability, an interest sparked during his first milk visit.

One day, he arrives at your doorstep with a broad grin and a glass bottle in hand. “Look, I’ve switched to glass milk bottles too!”

Sebastian will be proud.

Mick Schumacher: Comfort in Company

One evening, you find Mick Schumacher sitting alone in your backyard, gazing at the stars. His usually cheerful face is thoughtful, his eyes a little glossy.

“Mick, everything alright?” you ask, settling down next to him on the grass.

He looks at you then at the stars again. “I just ... I miss my dad, you know?”

The silence hangs in the air, thick with emotions. You reach out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to miss him. You don’t have to hide it. Especially not here with us.”

He nods, wiping his eyes. “I know. It’s just some days it hits harder than others.”

You stay with him, listening as he talks about his dad, his memories both sweet and poignant. You realize that while you’ve adopted your grid kids into your chaotic family, they each come with their own sets of joys and sorrows.

***

Sebastian joins you two after a while and the three of you sit under the stars, sharing stories and remembrances. Mick smiles as Sebastian tells him stories about racing with Michael, the camaraderie they shared, and the respect they had for each other.

By the end of the night, Mick seems lighter, the earlier sadness replaced with a soft smile of remembrance. He thanks both of you for listening and understanding. “You guys really are like a second family to me.”

The Big Announcement

One sunny afternoon, you gather all your grid kids in the living room. The chatter is lively, the room buzzing with energy as they try to figure out why they’ve been summoned.

Sebastian gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you both stand in front of your unconventional family.

“We’ve called you all here because we have some news,” you begin, heart pounding in your chest.

***

When you finally tell them you're pregnant, the room falls into a stunned silence, their wide-eyed expressions making you chuckle. But then, as the news sinks in, the silence is broken by whoops of joy and congratulations.

“Wow, so we’re going to be big brothers?” Max exclaims, while Lando jokes about teaching the baby to prank Sebastian, Mick looks almost teary-eyed with happiness, and George immediately volunteers for babysitting duties.

***

With your pregnancy announcement, your grid kids go into overdrive. They begin to dote on you in a way that’s both touching and a little overwhelming. From Charles insisting on cooking you healthy meals (despite his previous lasagna disaster) to Max bringing you comfortable pregnancy pillows, everyone tries to make you as comfortable as possible.

Lance even makes Speedy wear a bell around her neck in case she inadvertently startles you. The cat isn’t pleased but the sight of her jingling around the house keeps everyone entertained.

***

As the weeks go by, their concern borders on overprotectiveness. They fuss over you at the smallest things, like Max insisting on driving you to your doctor’s appointments because he’s “the fastest driver” or Lando continually adjusting the house temperature to ensure you’re never too hot or cold.

While their actions are well-intended, they often become hilariously excessive. One day, you find Mick baby-proofing the house even though the baby isn’t due for months. He sheepishly shrugs, “Just trying to be prepared.”

***

Despite the chaos, their actions stem from love and concern, which warms your heart. One evening, you find yourself surrounded by your grid kids as you sit in the living room, their laughter filling the air.

As you watch them, your hand gently resting on your growing belly, you can’t help but feel grateful. These young drivers, your grid kids, have become such a vital part of your life. Their genuine care and, at times, overzealous concern during your pregnancy only emphasize the strong bond you share.

Your family may not be traditional and your daily life may be filled with mayhem but it’s your life with Sebastian and the grid kids. It’s chaotic, hilarious, and unpredictable — and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

The Big Day

The day finally arrives when you’re rushed to the hospital. Sebastian is by your side, holding your hand through every contraction, while your grid kids anxiously wait in the waiting room, pacing and biting their nails.

A few hours later, when your newborn daughter makes her entrance into the world, Sebastian walks out to the young drivers, his eyes sparkling with joy and exhaustion. “You can meet her now.”

The joy and anticipation in the room is palpable as they rush in, crowding around the hospital room door in their eagerness.

The sight that greets them is nothing short of heartwarming. You’re in bed, looking tired but blissful, a tiny bundle nestled in your arms.

As they take turns holding the little one, their faces light up in awe. From Max’s gentle cooing to Lando’s finger being gripped by tiny hands to Mick’s unashamed happy tears to Charles’ whispered lullaby in French and George’s soft-spoken promise to be the “coolest brother,” the room is filled with a warm sense of family.

Even Speedy, smuggled into the hospital in Lance’s jacket, gets to sniff the newest human member of the family, much to the nurses’ chagrin.

A Baby in the Paddock

Several months later, the paddock welcomes an unexpected visitor — your baby daughter, wrapped snugly in a cute onesie with a tiny racing helmet print. As you push her stroller through the crowd, your grid kids and their fellow drivers are visibly smitten by the adorable sight.

Your grid kids instantly surround your daughter, their faces lighting up as they coo and make silly faces to elicit giggles. They take turns pushing her stroller and you can’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm in their newfound roles as big brothers.

Sebastian, ever the proud father, looks on with warm amusement as he watches your daughter bond with her extended family.

***

Amid the hustle and bustle of the paddock, your daughter experiences her first pit stop as Charles and Lando try to change her diaper. Even Mick, the baby-proofing master, hovers nearby to ensure everything goes smoothly.

You can’t help but admire their dedication and the way they’ve embraced their roles as her protectors and playmates.

***

At the end of the day, you gather the whole group for a family photo. Your daughter, held by Max and Mick on either side, steals the show with her toothless grin.

As you look at the photo later, you realize that this quirky, chaotic family has grown and changed in the most beautiful ways. Your daughter has been embraced by these young drivers, who have become her brothers and protectors, just as they’ve become sons to you.

A New Racer on the Track

Years pass in the blink of an eye and soon your little girl is no longer a baby. She’s grown into a lively child with a love for speed, much like her father. Today, she’s ready to participate in her first karting race, and the whole gang — your grid kids now with seven World Championships between them — are here to support her.

As they gather around the track, an old joke resurfaces. Max points at a particular bend in the track, nudging Charles with a smirk. “Remember the inchident?”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes, “Not this again. It was years ago!”

Laughter breaks out among the group, their bond echoing through the years.

***

Before the race, each of your grid kids offers your daughter their sage advice. From Lando’s “always keep your cool” to George’s “remember to enjoy the ride,” her brothers are keen to impart their wisdom. Mick even attempts to show her how to properly do a pit stop, using a toy car and tiny plastic cones.

Your daughter, with a sparkling helmet almost too big for her head, listens earnestly, her wide eyes moving from one brother to the next.

When the race finally starts, your grid kids cheer on loudly, their voices carrying over the vroom of the karts. The sight of your daughter, determined behind the wheel of her tiny kart, brings a surge of pride and a few tears to your eyes.

As the race ends, your daughter crosses the finish line in third place, a beaming smile on her face. She’s welcomed back to the pit by a roaring cheer from her family, her brothers lifting her onto their shoulders.

***

That night, the celebration is filled with laughter, teasing, and an impromptu re-enactment of the inchident by Charles and Max, much to your daughter’s amusement.

Sebastian lifts his glass for a toast, “To our little racer, may you always find joy on the track. And remember, an inchident is only funny if it doesn’t happen to you.”

Laughter fills the room once again, and you can’t help but marvel at the love and joy surrounding you. These are the moments you cherish the most, moments of laughter and unity shared with this extraordinary, unconventional family.

As you watch your daughter being coddled and celebrated by her brothers, you realize that this legacy of love and support will always continue, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.

[pure-smut]

feral.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, established relationship, birth control tampering, unprotected s*x, noncon/dubcon, breeding k*nk, size k*nk, cunnilingus, multiple rounds, creampies, stalking, toxic behaviour

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

a/n: okay this is the actual final part!! tysm for all the love y'all have given this series, sukuna is truly one of my muses he's just so fucked up lmaooo

“Good news,” you say, beaming. “No more condoms!”

Ryomen Sukuna’s head snaps up from where he was lazing on the couch, scrolling his phone.

“What?”

“No more condoms!” you repeat. “I switched to a different kind of pill, it won’t make me feel as bleh.”

Sukuna can only stare at you. You cross the living room and kneel beside him on the couch. He’s been so patient with you, so doting, you feel bad you changed up your birth control so suddenly last time. You reach across to run your fingers through his hair.

“I know you hated the condoms,” you say, an apologetic smile on your face.

“Stupid things,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning into your touch.

The two of you had only had sex once with a condom and it was obvious Sukuna was displeased. Since then, you’ve been sticking to hand and mouth activities, which is great but not enough forever.

“Well, I’m sorry,” you tell him. “We don’t need to use them anymore.”

You lean across to press a kiss against his lips.

“I missed you, ‘Kuna,” you tell him softly, your eyes glancing down pointedly. “All of you.”

A grin crawls across his face as he kisses you back.

“You still have me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here.”

Truthfully, Sukuna’s been slipping you sleeping pills every couple of nights, taking his fill of you without a condom. You wake up every so often a bit achy and sore but Sukuna’s careful to clean up after himself, never leaving a trace, so you don’t pay it much mind. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s happy to keep doting on you, knowing he’s spilling his seed unprotected in you without you even knowing.

He slipped you the morning after pill the first couple of times but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of getting you pregnant. Your needy little pussy so eager for his cum, fucking his load into you until it takes. The idea was intoxicating. So he stopped spiking your coffee with the morning after pill. All he needs to do now is wait.

Until you interrupt his plans again.

Sukuna waits until you’re out of the house before he starts rifling through the bathroom cabinets. He finds your new pills quickly, a few of them already popped. He regards them with disgust. Just another barrier between you.

He takes a picture of them, making a note of the name and brand. After some difficult searching and a trip to the dark web, Sukuna finds someone who’ll send out several identical boxes, except filled with sugar pills instead. With a grin, he orders them.

Sukuna has to spend a few days finishing inside you knowing you’re still protected, waiting for the fake pills to arrive. He knows you’d get suspicious if he refrained from sex – it’s Sukuna, after all – so he fucks you the way you want, the thought of the prize at the end keeping him going.

You return home one day to see Sukuna with your favourite flowers, the lights turned low, and a smile on his face. Your sweet boyfriend.

You remember what you thought of him before you got together – an arrogant fuckboy would be putting it lightly. What should have been a quick, albeit satisfying, one night stand has somehow turned into the most loving relationship you’ve ever had.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deep, your tongue flicking over his. He’s been in a semi-bad mood ever since you said you were switching pills but he seems to have gotten over it, returning to the gruff but loving guy you know.

“I love you, baby,” Sukuna mumbles into your mouth. “Get on the bed.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he carries you through to the bedroom himself. You’re used to this, being manhandled by Sukuna, so you only giggle as he throws you onto the bed. He reaches under your skirt to tug off your panties before crawling between your legs.

Sukuna inhales the scent of you. You smell so dark and sweet, it’s like you’re custom built to turn him on. Ever since the night he broke into your room to taste you as you slept, he hasn’t been able to stop tasting you. You often find yourself in the middle of tasks, cooking or studying, interrupted by Sukuna nudging his face between your legs to lap at you.

Sukuna wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, his tongue parting your folds. You’re already glistening for him, so ready for him, and he loves that about you. Loves that he can take you whenever he wants, your pussy just waiting for him. You taste even better now that he knows you’ve been on the fake birth control pills for a week now, your scent somehow more powerful now he knows you’re unprotected, ready for his seed.

He groans into your pussy at the thought, his cock already throbbing. He licks a fat stripe along your lips before prodding at your entrance, lapping at your sweet honey. His nose nudges your clit, making you groan and card your fingers through his hair. You’d grind against him if you could, if his grip allowed you, but you’re no match for Sukuna’s strength. He always holds you in place, holds you exactly where he wants to.

Sukuna eats your pussy selfishly, the way he enjoys it rather than you – your pleasure being a nice bonus but not always necessary. His thick tongue slides in and out of your hole, gathering as much of your slick as possible, and you have to whine for him to please, please lick your clit. As usual, he brings you to the brink but doesn’t take you over unless you beg him.

Sukuna latches onto your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. His tongue swipes over the sensitive bud as he sucks and your whole body would buck if he wasn’t pinning you down so tightly. You moan and writhe as you come undone on his tongue, Sukuna licking up your juices as they run down his chin. He only pulls away when he’s painfully hard, needing to feel you around him before he bursts.

Sukuna quickly positions himself, slinging your ankles up over his shoulders as he aligns with your sopping cunt. He pushes himself in, feeling the fat head of his cock pop inside you before several more inches follow. You cry out his name, digging your nails into his forearm.

He normally goes slower than this, normally lets you adjust. But when you look up at him, Sukuna’s eyes are feral. Something instinctual has taken over him, has made him desperate to rut into you.

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper. “P-please… slower…”

A muscle bounces in his jaw but he obliges, the sound of your begging appeasing him. He doesn’t push any deeper but instead fucks you with shallow thrusts, only going halfway down his shaft.

It feels like your needy pussy is sucking him in, despite your pleading, and Sukuna has to fight to restrain himself. Your sweet, fertile womb is waiting for him and there’s nothing he wants more than to coat it with his cum.

But he does love you. He loves you so much. He doesn’t want to hurt you, not really, not when you’re whimpering so sweetly for him, your nails digging into him so desperately. So he rocks his hips, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for the wince on your face to turn to pleasure, before he sinks himself deeper.

“Ah, fuck… that’s it…” Sukuna half sighs, half grunts as he bottoms out. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Y-yours, Sukuna,” you moan.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sukuna!”

“Say it.”

“I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust.

Sukuna’s pushing you to the brink again, his thick cock pistoning in and out of you as he rubs against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, helpless to it, your body not your own.

As you moan and mewl, Sukuna looks down at you and pictures you pregnant with his child. He imagines your swollen belly, how your heavy breasts will sway, how you’ll be with him forever.

His forever.

It’s enough to finish him. Sukuna groans long and low, sinking inside you as he spurts load after load into your womb. He fills you to the brim, his orgasm so powerful he falls onto his arms, muscles shaking.

He’s still inside you as he kisses you roughly, unlike the sweet, deep kisses he usually gives you after sex. You kiss him back but it’s only when you feel his hips rock again, his length still inside you that you realise he’s not done.

“’Kuna…?”

Sukuna ignores you as he pulls out long enough to flip you onto your stomach. He pushes your leg up, bending it at the knee to give him better access as he slides himself into you again.

You gasp as your tender pussy is violated, your hands splayed out as Sukuna pins your down with his body weight. He’s still fully hard, his girth hitting a new angle as he fucks his load back into you.

“S-Sukuna…” you whimper. “M’sore!”

“Quiet,” he commands you, voice rough. “I can feel how fucking wet you are so be a good little slut and let me finish.”

Sukuna’s harsh voice silences you as you bury your face into the pillow, hands fisting the bed sheets. He’s right – you’re tender but you’re still enjoying it, your pussy drooling around his cock. His cum is only making you sloppier, only making it easier for him to fuck you. So you stay quiet, softly whimpering into the pillow.

Sukuna continues fucking you, the feel of your plush walls still so tight around him and the lewd squelch of your sopping pussy making his second orgasm build quickly. He wants to fuck as much cum in you as he can, wants to fill your womb with it.

The fact that you’re unaware, still thinking you’re protected, is a delicious bonus. A thrill runs up his spine as he thinks about how you’re letting him fuck you, letting him cum inside you, when you never would if you knew.

If you only knew.

You lay there, legs nearly numb and body drained of any energy, as Sukuna continues to saw in and out of you. You feel one of his large hands scoop under your hip, lifting you slightly so he can go deeper. Sukuna handles you like you’re just a hole for him to fuck and you realise the thought makes you even wetter. Your walls are so sensitive, each stroke feels like fire through your body, half pleasure and half pain.

Your abused pussy clenches involuntarily around Sukuna's girth as he forces a orgasm from you, his hips snapping against your ass at a brutal pace.

Having you in this position reminds Sukuna of every night he’s fucked you while you’re asleep, your body limp and pliant, just waiting to be moved to his liking. Except this time he's fucked you into submission, his own personal little fucktoy.

“Fuck…” he mutters, his cock swelling. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’re so fucking good.”

He’s so close. Your pussy feels too warm and soft, too greedy for his cum for him to last any longer. Sukuna grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fucks into you. His balls tighten at his approaching orgasm and you can hear his moans behind you, his cock nearly overly sensitive.

You’re almost relieved as you feel his hot cum spill inside you, Sukuna’s thrusts slowing as his cock throws thick ropes of his sticky seed in your womb. Your breathing is ragged, your face streaked with tears you didn’t realise you were crying.

Sukuna pulls out of you but stays where he is, breathing hard. After a moment, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help myself. You just felt so good.”

Sukuna smooths his hand across your back, pressing more gentle kisses against your neck and shoulder. You let him, blinking away the last of the tears.

“I love you,” Sukuna says quietly.

You roll over to face him, wincing at the tender ache between your legs.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Sukuna kisses you again, the way you remember, soft and deep. You want to ask what came over him but when he tells you he’s going to clean you up and run you a hot bath, you decide you don’t mind.

True to his word, Sukuna gently cleans you before leaving you to soak in the bath. He offers to stay with you but you insist you want to sit alone for a while, peppering him with reassuring kisses. And you do sit alone for a while, for a few minutes.

Quietly, you climb out of the bath and open the cabinet to find your birth control pills. You check you’ve taken the dummy pills Sukuna got you before putting them back in the cabinet. You sink silently to your knees and carefully lift one of the tiles on the bathroom floor. Sitting there are your real birth control pills.

You pop one free, swallowing it quickly before putting it back, replacing the tile without making a sound. You climb back into the bath slowly so you don’t splash before lying back again, relaxing.

You first discovered Sukuna’s sleeping pills when he was out collecting your favourite takeout some weeks ago. You figured that was the reason you were waking up some mornings with a familiar ache.

You discovered the tracking app on your phone the morning after Sukuna had installed it and had spotted him following at a distance behind you some days. So you gave him what he wanted – you made sure he saw you ignored other men and you never lied about your location.

You got your own set of morning after pills once you found the sleeping pills, knowing immediately what Sukuna was up to. He might think you’re unprotected, might fuck you like you are, but only you know that’s not true.

You close your eyes, enjoying the soak of the hot water. You know Sukuna does this because he loves you. Because he’s obsessed with you. You like that he's rough with you you, that he loves you so much he stalks you, that he wants to get you pregnant so he'll never lose you.

You love him just as much back. Your sweet, doting boyfriend who thinks he knows everything about you, who thinks he’s the one in control.

Your smirk to yourself.

If only he knew.

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

Taglist: @sterzin @venus1224idkpleaze

[tootiecakes234]

I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.

You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.

One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.

“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.

You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.

He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.

“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”

You look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”

“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”

It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.

You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.

You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.

You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.

“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.

“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”

When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.

“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”

He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”

“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.

“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”

Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.

You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.

“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.

“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”

“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”

“I do not.”, you start to object.

“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.

“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.

“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”

“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”

He smiles at you, “always”

He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.

You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.

To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list in the comments💕