Could You Do A Fic Where Y/n And Timothe Come Back Very Drunk From Dinner Together And Get A Little~

could you do a fic where y/n and timothée come back very drunk from dinner together and get a little~ affectionate and she has these stockings on and he plays with her legs and makes her wait on purpose, thanks<3

short and sweet 💗 thank you for requesting!

patience

“timmyyyyyy,” you whine, bumping your nose against his shoulder. “hurry upppp.”

your boyfriend giggles, jingling your keys in the lock. “i’m trying, it won’t open!”

“just – turn it, here, let me—”

“nooooo, no i got it, i got it,” he shouts, voice echoing around the corridor. but he drops the keys, and this whole thing is hilarious.

“shhhhh!” you hiss, giggling madly against his side. “you’re gonna wake everybody up!”

he dives for the keys, drunken hands fumbling until he finds the right one. then he wraps both arms around your waist, your back flush to his chest as he continues to wrestle with the lock.

“come onnnn,” he groans into your ear, soft lips brushing against your ear and making your knees buckle.

“patience is a virtue,” you tease, snatching the keys from him. you try yourself, and is it really your fault if you can’t think straight with his hands inching lower and lower and lower—

“got it!” you shriek, and he has no choice but to slam his lips over yours before the guy two doors down writes another noise complaint.

you bite his lip, pushing back against him when the lock finally, finally, clicks. the door swings open, banging against the wall, and your bodies follow immediately after.

“baby, babe, babe” you jabber, a soft sound escaping your throat when his teeth graze just below your jaw. “couch? couch, babe?”

“mhm, use your words, darling,” timothée rasps, his voice alone making you dig your nails into his sides to compose yourself. when he starts to lower himself, to get on his knees, you lose it.

there are no words. they evade you, escape you, they don’t exist – not when his hands are sliding up your stockings, tantalising heat just out of reach, hoisting up your skirt and stopping – why is he stopping?!

“timothéeee,” you plead, both hands in his hair as you push him lower.

he looks up at you, shaking the curls from his eyes, a devilish grin on those angelic lips.

“words, princess,” he prompts, one finger tracing the pattern on your tights.

“god, timmy,” you all but beg, head falling back against the wall as he continues to trace up, up, up the intricate patterns on your leg. “take me, take me here, take me anywhere.”

you feel his smirk through your tights, your entire body aching for his skin against yours, for touch, for friction, for anything.

more, you need more.

reaching down, you slip a hand under them, only to have his hand close around your wrist.

“ahh, not so fast,” he smirks, nails digging into your thigh. “patience is a virtue, sweet one.”

“fuck you, please,” you add desperately, voice as shallow as your breathing.

“much better,” he teases, his fingers hooking beneath the stockings, sliding them down inch by inch, agonisingly slowly.

“oh, yes, yes, please, yes” you babble, one hand gripping his hair, the other clutching his shoulder. delicious heat builds, the air suddenly stifling, as timothée finally, finally, rips them off, folds them away – your sweet boy – and then hoists your thigh over his shoulder, diving, diving, diving into you.

can u do a fez smut of him wanting to eat the reader out?

⚠️ english isn't my first language

It was late at night. Ashtray was already sleeping, he didn't even get to finish the movie you three were watching and it seemed like you weren't going to finish it either. Fezco was topping you, one of his hands under your body grabbing your hip to keep you close and one of his knees occasionally brushing against your pussy. You broke the kiss to catch your breathe. Fezco gave you a peck. Two. Three. Four. Five. You smiled against his lips, enjoying those quick and wet kisses he was giving you. His lips moved to your cheek, leaving yours wanting more of him. He kissed your cheekbone and finally got to your neck. He took his time there; kissing it, licking it, even giving it soft bites. You let out some cutes "oh..." and some giggles. It felt so nice. His beard tickling those sensitive parts of your body and his hands roaming all over your hips, waist, and tummy.

You were surprised when his lips kept going down on your body, now focusing on your collarbone. It was surprising because he's never gone any further than the lower part of your neck.

"What are you doing?" You giggled trying to get his attention.

"I wanna eat you out." He stopped kissing your body and looked directly into your eyes. "I mean... if that's okay with yo'."

Always so cute. You nodded, grabbing him by his neck and making him kiss your lips again. The kiss was different now, messier and definitely wetter than before. Fezco repeated with zero complaints the trail of kisses he left before, enjoying every centimeter of your body. He went from your collarbone to your belly, asking you by raising his eyebrows if it was okay for him to lift your shirt. You gave him the permission he needed and his lips started working his way down your belly until he reached the waistband of your pajama pants.

You lifted your hips and Fezco dragged your pants off. "Cute." You heard Fez whisper when he saw your panties. He placed his head between your legs, millimeters away from your wet core and he took one of your legs, pushing it up and hooking your ankle over his shoulder. He kissed the inside of your thigh, practically devouring it. He bit the soft skin of it, making you whimper, and moved his lips along that part of your leg until he got to your groin.

"You good?" He was the kindest man you've ever been with, you smiled at him and nodded as you got comfortable on the couch. " 'K this has to go..." Fezco dragged your underwear off, leaving you completely exposed to him. "You guide me." He said before he started kissing your folds. You gasped feeling his mouth really close to your clit. Fezco knew what he was doing, it's not like he has had this enormous amount of partners before you, but he knew how to satisfice you. After seeing how desperate you were and when he finally had enough of teasing you, he licked from your hole to your clit, collecting all your juices and finally reaching where you needed him most.

Fezco started giving kitten licks to your clit, and even though you tried to be quiet all this time, it was impossible anymore. "Go faster please, Fez..." He did as you said, using his tongue so expertly. And he was so good at it, making every right movement with it to leave you breathless. Your chest moving up and down trying to catch some air.

"Is it good?" You nodded letting out a suffocated "yes." Instead of licking at it, Fezco began to suck on your clit making you arch your back and throw your hand to your mouth to silence your moans. His name left your mouth repeatedly, every time he sucked on your clit you felt closer to your climax.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum Fez..." Your hands now went to the back of his head, bringing him even closer. Your legs shook and squeezed his head between your thighs as you came on his mouth. Fezco watched you come with his big blue eyes, literally amazed at how your body reacted to him. It felt so sweet, you capturing his head between your thighs, but it was even sweeter the way you tasted.

☆ page-turner (r.a.b.)

— trying to read your book whilst sat in regulus' lap proves a harder task than you first thought

+ contains: smut, fingering (f!recieving), edging, teasing, praise

+ nsfw — minors please dni

"that's it, darling," regulus coos, his chin resting on your shoulder. "keep going."

you're sat in his lap, your back flush to his chest with your legs spread wide as you clutch your book with white-knuckles. his fingers expertly slip in and out of you, his thumb deftly working at your clit in an intoxicating combination that makes your mind cloudy.

regulus has made the rules of this exchange pretty clear: you stop reading, he stops moving.

at first, you had thought he was merely teasing, wanting to see just how far he could push you. but when you had first dropped your book, head falling back against his shoulder to let out a shaky moan, he had pulled his fingers out instantly with a reprimanding tsk. it was only when you started up again, voice shaking and cracking around the words, that regulus resumed his prior motions.

every now and then, he curls his fingers up to press against your g-spot, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you stumble over the current piece of dialogue you're reading

"reg, please-" you breathe, eyes screwed shut as you feel your orgasm slowly build. the muscles in your stomach tighten, and in an effort to finish faster, you grind down onto his fingers.

"ah, ah," regulus hums, using his free hand to cup your cheek and redirect your face towards your now forgotten book. "told you, love. have to keep going. y'doing so well for me."

you're so close that if he stopped now, you're sure tears will escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks, a pathetic display of desperation. your only option is to continue reading.

the words become blurry as you fight to keep your eyes open, and you're only half sure that whatever you're saying is even comprehensible as you stumble through paragraph after paragraph.

all it takes is the pad of regulus' thumb swiping over your clit particularly roughly for you to see white. your book hits the floor with a thump, drowned out by the sounds of your moans and mumbled thanks. regulus holds your hips as you writhe in his lap, pressing kisses to your shoulder as you come down from your climax, all the while muttering praise and compliments.

"did so well, love," he hums, kissing your temple. "wanna see how well you can focus w'my cock in you, now."

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’re heavily pregnant with sukuna’s child and so desperately need to have your specific pregnancy cravings: mangoes. when you realise you’re out of them, you turn into an emotional mess.

tags. true form!sukuna x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size difference (reader referred to as small). reader gets called ‘woman, brat’ wc: 1.8k

you’re crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukuna’s arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of the master bedroom. there really doesn’t seem to be an end to your mental breakdown.

you’re prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe as it sticks out from under your kimono.

you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. “not fair,” you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.

the bedroom doors suddenly swing open. you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. more upset than you are at the moment, that’s for sure.

you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while you’re stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.

after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure. he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“enough with the tears,” sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.

his eyes flicker over your body—taking in the sight of your round belly. he can’t deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days without seeing you.

sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long you’ve been sobbing? the realisation that no one has checked on you while you’ve been crying like this irks him.

the king of curses will make sure that every single servant - and especially the ones assigned to you - pay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.

“damn it, woman,” sukuna curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, “what’s gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"

you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.

“welcome home,” you utter, remembering to greet him properly. you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. “i—i went down to the kitchen to get som-something,” you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukuna’s irritation spikes.

“but they didn’t have the food i craved—they’re out of mangoes,” your wailing starts again just at the thought of your non existent fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.

sukuna’s annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that you’re crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he couldn't help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

the pink haired man brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. “mangoes, huh? y’re out here bawling y’r fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?”

despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplified emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, you’re stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.

“mangoes,” you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch. you easily guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.

though, mangoes are your current pregnancy craving and not having them meant war to you. it’s all you can focus on—even if your beloved sukuna is right in front of you.

“i need them,” you whine and pout. your hormones made it difficult for you to calm down.

you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out for the nth time. “i want my mangoes,” your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, “please?”

sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that you’re experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.

the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight. “tsk, damn it,” he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, “y’re really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?”

here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. he’s seen you in many states - happy, sad, tired, excited - but never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit. sukuna’s large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.

you pout at sukuna and lean into his touch as he pats your head. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do. “well, you’re the one who got me pregnant,” you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.

no matter what sour mood you’re in, you can still be sassy. though it doesn’t last long before your bottom lip trembles again. “i can’t do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,” you whine as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your words.

you are eating for two people after all—for you and the baby.

sukuna’s smirk widened at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. damn cheeky little woman.

the pink-haired man chuckled darkly, his hand clumsily ruffling your hair again before pulling away. “‘n i don’t regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with y’r cranky ass.”

you roll your eyes at sukuna’s reply. you know you’re an emotional mess, but you couldn’t care less. anything for your mangoes—those juicy ones that you could eat a dozen of in one sitting.

“the maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ‘nd villages nearby,” you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. you’re trying your best to stay rational. you’re extremely hungry and haven’t eaten ever since breakfast. that’s how stubborn you are being.

“but i’m hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,” you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.

“yeah, yeah—fuckin’ hell,” sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. it’s a constant reminder of the effect he has on you, and somehow, it makes him proud.

he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you don’t strain a single muscle.

after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eat—perhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.

sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walked towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra. it’s driving him insane.

“mangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i get it, brat,” the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb. you’re lucky that he . . . tolerates you as his wife.

it’s something more than just ‘tolerating’ you, of course. but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.

if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that it’s simply because you’re carrying his heir. however only sukuna knows the full truth, the sappy secret he’ll forever keep to himself.

before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume. they glance from sukuna to you and bow. “good day,” they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. they’ve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.

the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows you’re holding yourself back from asking for your active pregnancy craving again.

sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume. “keep an eye on her while ‘m gone. feed her what she wants,” he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.

uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.

“where are you going, hubby?”

you of course, get a free pass. you don’t hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him that in such an oblivious manner. you should’ve known where he was departing to.

“where’d you think, smartass?” he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.

you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.

“you better hold on ‘til i come back with y’r stupid mangoes,” he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, “and when i do, i don’t wanna hear ‘nother squeak, understood?”

sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.

your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that sukuna is actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.

“okay! love you, ‘kuna!” you call out to your lover while he disappears behind the gates. as expected, your words are met by silence.

that’s fine with you. not hearing an ‘i love you’ back doesn’t hurt you as much as it did at the start of you relationship.

you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didn’t, you’d be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didn’t like you.

you know sukuna would let the world burn for you.

Flirtini "Shouldn't you be in my bed?" with Sirius plz plz plz plz

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

11. “Shouldn’t you be in my bed?”

.

“You look smashing today, love.” 

“Beat it, Black.”

Sirius’ smile only widened at the utterly bored tone of your voice as he settled into the spot next to you. Your eyes remained on the party around you, watching with narrowed and calculated eyes. It was almost endearing, in the same way a snake staring at its prey before it attacked was. 

He didn’t think he had ever been more attracted to you. 

“Aw, baby, don’t go breaking my heart like that,” Sirius commented with a mocking pout on his lips and a hand over his heart. “You’re killing me.” 

“Good,” you deadpanned. 

“Careful,” he teased, head tilting in amusement as he watched your hand grip the glass in your hand. “I almost detected some emotions there. You’re losing your touch.” 

“Oh, bite me,” you scoffed as you finally turned to look at him, your eyes narrowed in annoyance and irritation. 

“Just tell me where,” he retorted with a charming smile. “I promise I’m obedient when the incentive is right.” 

“Shouldn’t you be running around with your little prankster manchildren friends?” You commented, your jaw twitching a little as he took a step towards you and reached up to softly tuck some hair behind your ear before you could bat his hand away. 

“Shouldn’t you be in my bed?” He replied, so unbothered and unfazed by your clear disdain. 

It irked you.

“Do you ever stop?” You huffed out, stepping back a little but he just moved closer.

“You complain so much but if I was really annoying you, you would have blasted me across the room with a simple flick of your want,” Sirius noted with a smug look in his eyes. “I saw you do the exact same thing to Rosier the other week.” 

Your lips twitched a little. “The worm deserved it.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it, baby,” Sirius grinned back at you. “But that just tells me that you have gotta like something about me if you’re not hexing me into next Sunday.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sirius.” 

“Sirius, is it now?” He teased, his voice positively gleeful. “I’m breaking down your walls, love. You’re bound to give in soon enough. I know you want me just as badly.” 

You let out a small huff of amusement. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

“Got some really pretty dreams of you that help me sleep at night,” he retorted, flashing you a wink before he took a sip of his drink and turned on his heel to walk away.

.

Regulus Black ‐ Jasmine, Lavender, and Poppy

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.6k Warning : Nothing, just pure fluff. Synopsis : Regulus made sure that she would never forget his scent ever again. Notes : My first blurb. Should I make more of these? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕  

She remembers his scent well. That very special smell of oud and leather, something that portrays luxury and obscurity. Something that feels like home. Something that screams him— Regulus Arcturus Black.

But poking on Regulus has always been one of her most favourite things to do. Even before they were romantic, teasing him has always been second nature for her. His reactions have always brought her bliss. Their harmless banter is what fuels their day and it feels like the perfect time for her to pull the first taunt of the day.

"I don't smell you from the Amortentia," She lied, teasing her boyfriend whose brows are now pinched high from the offensive words she spilled "I smelled cinnamon, wet grass, and linen."

"Bullshit, I smelled you. There's no way you smelled someone else."

Shs shrugs, closing her textbook that hasn't been read ever since they entered the library, "Maybe you smelled wrong."

"I'm never wrong about these kinds of things."

"Yeah?" She challenges, propping her chin in the palm of her hand "What did you smell?"

"I smelled jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

"That doesn't smell like me. You're just listing random flowers."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Your perfume's base is jasmine. You drop a few lavender oil to your seal wax on all of our letters. Your garden is filled with poppies. You are jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

A smile blooms on her face. It was one thing to be satisfied by teasing your boyfriend and another to have him spelling the little details of you. Regulus has always been the observant party of the two, she just never realised how much of her he's taking notes of.

"Also, Love, your house is always decorated with those three flowers on every corner. You are what I smelled from Amortentia. You are my soulmate."

"Well, no one said Amortentia smells like your soulmate. They say it smells like someone you're attracted to so maybe that's why." She continues her scheme, concealing her blooming heart "Maybe I'm attracted to someone else now."

Regulus' brows rose higher, looking even more appalled at her words, "Are you being serious right now?"

She shrugs.

Regulus stood from his seat. Perhaps teasing him in the library when they're the last people there wasn't such a brilliant idea. Merlin knows what he might do now. Regulus might be a calm and collected person but wrong poke and you'll wake the fury inside him.

She started to inch away, pushing her seat back until it hit the wall, giving her no other space to escape. Regulus kneeled down, levelling to her eye level and eyes her deeply. His brows were still knitted in displease but his eyes were soft. Her plan to keep an aloof expression has evidently failed as a playful smile cracks on her lips, anticipating for his next move whilst praying that he wasn't genuinely angry.

"You're a menace." He says before kissing her.

Regulus pulled her chair closer, locking her in place as he put his hands on her sides. It wasn't like she's planning to leave, anyway. No one in their right mind would want to go when they're being kissed by him, especially with such an intimate and asserting position.

One hell of a man, Regulus is.

A victorious smile was plastered on her face when they pulled away. It was a short kiss. Just enough for him to prove to her just how wrong she is about the scents she's attracted to. Regulus knew that she was lying, that she was just trying to get his reaction, yet he complied with her charade anyway.

Regulus now stands from his position. He took off his robe, tossing it carelessly to the seat he occupied a couple minutes ago. He then takes off his jumper, making her cheeks burn from the sight. He surely knows how to keep her around.

"The library might not give you the best privacy if you're planning to go nude, Love." She comments.

Regulus rolls his eyes, handing her his jumper, "Wear it."

"Why?"

"So you won't ever forget my scent again."