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toji-bunny-girl · 4 months ago

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Toji with a puppy girl👀

Nah cuz puppy!reader…x wolf!toji‼️⁉️ GOODBYE YALL🫡

Alright imagine wolf cop!Toji and puppy!reader who accidentally got caught speeding and acting all fidgety and nervous when he made her roll her window down. Wolf cop!Toji’s leaning against your car door, merely asking for your driver’s license and you’re already shaking in your seat.

The first thing you did was trying to explain why you were speeding just a little, to buy some heat suppressants and Toji could see that you weren’t lying about that. Puppy girl is all sweaty, your eyes are droopy with indecipherable lust and your aromal pheromones were begging him to breed you. He is a servant of the law, supposedly having to be professional on his job, but fuck did he want to help you with your heat.

He doesn’t know the extent of his self-control and he has no interest in testing it today—so he promptly sends puppy off with a warning, he’d better not catch you speeding again.

The next time he saw puppy was a few seasons later—when he was passing by an alley on the way home from dinner with the chief. There was a little yelp of desperation, and what seemed to be someone calling for help. He could smell the scent fraught and despair, along with a familiar whiff of feminine pheromones.

Stalking into the tenebrous alleyway, he found you cowering all scared over the corner, ears back and tail between your legs as a hooded male prowled closer to you.

Without much thinking, Toji hauled the male away from you, smashing his frame against the wall before locking his hands behind his back.

The man tried to fight back but it was all simply in futile. He could try all he want but Toji would still have him subjugated under his strength. Ripping the hoodie off of him, and as his features were described; it was the serial rapist around your area.

“Oi!” he called for your attention, sobbing as you shut your thighs tight together. “Get my phone outta my pocket.”

You did as you’re told, dialling the number he chanted aloud and soon the cops were there to bring the male under custody.

“Thank you for saving me, sir,” you spoke to the intimidatingly huge wolf. And Toji returned with a terse ‘welcome’, noting the crimson blush you wore underneath your cheeks and your strong intoxicating scent; it made his head heavy and the world seemed to whirled in his sight.

“Yer’ alright?” his voice was comfortingly deep, the grizzly pitch scratching the nerves in your ears. You’re practically sweating, and acting like how you were the first time he saw you. “Why are you out here alone this late?”

“I was going to get some heat suppressants and my car was getting fixed. So I had to walk…” you embarrassingly cried. Fuck, he swore in his head, not again. The officers were busy with the rapist bastard and letting you continue your walk alone seemed unsafe. So, he’d better send you back as quickly as possible and get on his merry way home.

Or so he thought.

“Please, please, please��!” you tearily whined, rubbing yourself against his knee, nose buried deep in his neck, breathing in his manly essence. Toji was beating back a groan, your scent punching his nostrils and messing up his heartbeat. He was supposed to drive you home, and somehow you’re straddled on top of him just as he has reached your home.

“Hey—”

“It hurts s’much, sir!” you’ve balled his shirt into your fist, staring at him with those wet puppy eyes. It’s your hormones against his instincts, and he has to put himself under control no matter what. “The toys are no use, I can’t do it anymore!”

“Where’s ya suppressant?” Toji sighed as he rummaged through your bag, his thigh began to dampen and the bulge in his pants pumped against the restraints of his brief as it grew in size. You didn’t manage to buy it, did you?

“Please, save me,” your voice broke as you cried, desperation oozing out of your eyes along with your tears. He could feel your pulse through his pants and your drenched panty, and fuck were you pushing him towards the edge of his limits. “It’s just this once, please…!”

Your words were the breaking point that wrenched the very last of his self-control out of his wavering self. But rules are still rules, and he worked quickly to call his partner, instructing him to help log out of his shift system for him. You were practically all over him when the phone call ended, your little teeth nipping and licking over his saliva-coated neck.

“Bad girl,” Toji clicked his tongue, his voice was low, almost predatory with a growl. You let out a yelp when he grabbed your face, forcing your head to the side as to expose the supple skin of your neck. It wasn’t fair for you to mark him without expecting him to imprint on you. Especially when you’d let out your adorable gasps as he sunk his sharp teeth into your flesh, your skin threatening to break and blood ready to flow under the subjugation of his canines.

He would only learn more of the sound you’d make when he pressed a finger against your pulsing clit through your embarrassingly wet panty, teasing and rolling your bud until your body shook and voice begged him to touch you more.

You were all he could smell and hear, his mind and body nearly drunk off of your pheromones that bubbled into the sizzling hot air. And it took the rest of a pathetic amount of restrain left in him not to eat you whole. He would have to compromise on the honey that seemed to coat your skin, sucking and biting the sweetness off of you.

Your gasps turned to whines when he stuffed a finger into your heat, a single digit of his large enough to please your squeezing cunt. But he expected you to take more than that, stretching out your slick-dripped pussy with two of his thick fingers. Your cavern squelched as he slipped them in and out of you, your head growing heavy and your eyesight turning hazy.

“Feel so—nnh, good…!” you slurred through the pleasure that shook your nerves. Your movements did nothing but agitated the bulge in his trousers, and Toji hated being edged of all things. So he had your wrists bounded by his cuffs, your arms raised above his head and your motions then restricted to your hips as you buckled them from the tingles in your core.

Toji smirked through one of the bite he was marking on your chest when he pumped his digits in and out of your sloppy cunt faster, his thumb reaching your clit and stimulating both of them at the same time. You burst into heightened cries as you felt your orgasm coming close, your hips rolling with his thick fingers as they curled over the gummy part of your wall, your eyes rolling to the back of head as pressure started building in your core.

“Mmnh—I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!” you repeated into a chant, your features twisting to his enjoyment as he watched you come undone from his mere fingers.

From the look of it, Toji knew you haven’t had enough. You were at the height of your heat, any coherence long melted into your innate desires to mate, for hours at least. You tried to free yourself from the cuff he’d locked you in, your eyes raking over his body down to the pumping size in his pants, a spot of pre-cum damp from your doings.

“Please, sir…” you whined through your adorable doe eyes, your craving for his cock to fill your cunt catching up to your limit. “Please fuck me.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Toji smirked, nipping the end of your sensitive ear, causing you to shudder from his touch. He loved the fact that he doesn’t have to ask for you to beg for him, his animalistic ego stroked by your adorable neediness.

Your eyes nearly popped out when you watched him unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down to release his fat cock, veiny and pulsing and ready to pump you full. You were almost too eager to fit him inside of you, your hips sinking down a little too quickly. But Toji was quicker to grab you before you hurt yourself. You were already well prepared, your body releasing all the hormones necessary but still, you were built a little too small for him.

“Someone’s impatient,” Toji chuckled as you wriggled in his hold. Just as he thought, your lips paused open when he slowly sank you halfway down his length, his thick cock pushing against the wall of your tummy, a little bump from the shape of his bulging from the inside of your stomach.

The both of you swore underneath your breaths, and you threw your head back when Toji started shifting into your hips. You were so damn tight and warm and wet that his carnal need to breed hit him like a fucking truck.

His jaw clenched as he forced his whole length into your pulsing hole, your eyebrows furrowed and teeth sunk into your bottom lip from how full you felt. Your breaths left your mouth as dragged moans when Toji began to draw his hips out and into your weeping cunt, slow but deep.

His thumb drew circles upon your hardened clit once again, attempting to ease your clenching hole but it did nothing but tightened your grip around his girth. “You gotta relax, pup,” he groaned into the sultry air, and you cried as you shook your head.

“M’ can’t! Please!” you mewled, rolling your hips for the least bit of friction, itching to ease the tingle between your thighs.

“Fuck,” Toji growled as tears of frustration began forming in your eyes. You weren’t the only one starved for sex, he’s been holding on for so long just not to hurt you. But you’re an eager one, can’t even wait for his cock to start moving and you’re sniffling your tears aback. “You better not regret this,” he clicked his tongue before drawing his hips back, slamming them up into your weeping cunt.

The car shook from the force and a scream lodge itself in your throat, your pussy ached with his cock dragging against your walls, and a pulsing warmth began to swarm all over your belly. “Haah—it’s s’good!” you mumbled unsteadily, your back arching into him and eyes turning crossed.

“I need you to be, shit—clearer, sweet.”

“Your cock f-feel s’good, sir!” you could feel the way Toji twitched inside of you, his pace relentless and rough. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the crack of the pressure in your core, and your released gushed all over his lap and car seat, the scent of your essence making his head heavy.

He doesn’t stop even when your lips spewed nothing but rambles, your drool slipping down your chin and onto your marked chest. Instead, he began to fuck himself into you, harder and faster. Your thighs shook for the way his cock spurred up your insides, it was as if he was trying to bring you apart then and there.

Toji bellowed out a low growl as his nails sank into the flesh on your hips, using your body like a fleshlight and messing up your sore cunt. Your slick cavern hugged his cock tight as he twitched, the nerves on his tip dancing upon the fire of pleasure before you feel a rope of his velvety semen paint your insides white, a wave of orgasm crushing down over you soon after.

You’re too drunk and dumb off his cock to stop him, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and tongue idly lolling out. Toji had spent too much of his time enveloped in your mating pheromones, his hormones raging all over his body, twisting the levels until he was down to nothing but a hulking body of a male intending to impregnate.

Unbeknownst to you, it would take days for a wolf’s rut to wear off.

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stunie · 7 months ago

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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”

It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

You wish Kaji was here already.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”

Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.

The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

“Kaji!”

You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”

He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”

He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”

In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.

“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”

“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”

Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

“….She's probably taken.”

“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”

There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”

“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”

More laughter.

Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”

“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”

“Really?”

“Of course—”

“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.

Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”

They flinch at the tone.

“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”

I know— dressed like a whore.”

Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’

He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”

He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”

One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—The fuck did you do?”

“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?

“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”

He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”

“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”

He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”

Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.

“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”

“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”

His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”

“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.

You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”

It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.

“He made me angry.”

Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.

With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”

“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”

part 2

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stargirlinterludefr · 6 months ago

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YES TO HEAVEN: jj maybank x reader

Synopsis: Three times JJ is told you love him (+1 time he finally says it back.)

TW: mentions of physical, emotional and verbal abuse, mentions of drug usage (weed), alcohol consumption, mention of Luke Maybank, mention of child abuse, angst to fluff, use of y/n

If there is one thing everyone in the Outer Banks knows about JJ Maybank? It’s his ferocious loyalty. He’s probably the most loyal man to walk the planet. The boy would walk into a fire blind to save the people he loves even if he only had a 0.99% chance of doing so, he’d rather take that chance over anything else.

But, there was one thing you knew about JJ Maybank and that was the fact he was terrified of love. The irony right? A boy so full of love that he’s nearly bursting at the seams, petrified that he isn’t worthy of the very thing.

And yet…you love him as though it’s as easy as breathing.

A fact that he can’t seem to except, no matter how hard he tries.

1st Time: SHARING A JOINT

The first time you tell JJ you love him, and not in the friendly way, is when you are both high as kites.

And that’s exactly what JJ pins it down to, the fact that you’re only saying you love him because you’re high. There couldn’t possibly any other reason you love someone like him, right?

“It’s crazy as shit to think that the stars…they’re just like a bunch of dead suns but they’re still vibin’ it up in the sky man.” JJ rambles, intoxicated brain running at a slower pace than usual but still managing keeping up with his everyday hyperactive sober brain.

You stare lovingly, not at the dead suns, but at JJ. Despite how much you’d smoked, your eyes held so much adoration that the Maybank boy could feel it burning into the side of the face and he didn’t dare turn you’re way because he’s sure he’d up and bolt at the sight of such love.

“I wish I could be a star, just chillin’ light years after my death and being some beautiful light in the sky it’s so-“

“I love you.” You blurt out, mind not catching up to the words that had slipped past your lips and perhaps not even realising you’d said them out loud until JJ’s head snapped in your direction at the speed of light.

The look on his face nearly made you cry, the look of utter terror that flashed on his features would be enough to make anyone cry because how could anyone hurt this boy? A boy so special, kind and loving.

A boy who currently looked at you like you had three heads.

“W-What?” JJ splutters, he’d planned to play it off jokingly, as though you were saying it in a friendly way. But he wasn’t stupid, sure he’s had a lot of cuncussion due to all the blows to the head he’s taken, but he wasn’t stupid. Nor was he blind.

He knew the way you looked at him and he knew he looked at you that way too.

You cheeks flush slightly, JJ also tries to downplay that as you being high outta your mind, “I just…I love you, Jay.” You whisper, so earnestly and full of meaning that JJ laughs.

He actually laughs.

You feel sick.

“Nah, you don’t love me man.” He throws out, mind sobering up so quickly that it almost gives him whiplash with the speed it happens. He sits up and shuffles away from you slightly, the feeling of rejection burns deeply in your gut.

You don’t feel so high anymore.

“But I do, love you I mean.” You state, beginning to anxiously pick at your nails as JJ scoffs, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek as he pulls himself to his feet.

It’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to follow.

“Why’d you-“ He starts, throwing his hands up before slapping them back to his thighs, his glare cutting you in half like a sharp knife. “You- you’re high, y/n, you prolly’ ain’t gonna remember this in the morning.”

You try to speak, but your mouth is hoarse and you wonder if you even have the strength to open it.

“Let’s just forget about this, yeah?” He sighs out and you nearly cry at how you nod, forcing a smile for his benefit.

2nd Time: JOHN B

JJ is sat in the hammock at the Château, blue eyes intently watching as you, Kiara and Sarah giggle like three little girls as you share stories animatedly between one another.

The boy doesn’t even realises he’s smiling at the sight until John B speaks from beside him, “What’s got you looking so happy, and if you dare say you’ve jacked off in my hammock I swear to god…I’ll kill you.” JB warns jokingly, bringing himself to sit across from the blonde haired boy as JJ’s cheeks basically flush.

“Nah man, you know I wouldn’t do that shit infront of impressionable ladies.” He mocks, eyes darting to you and back to John B who looks at JJ as though he’s got him all figured out.

“What’re you doin’ anyway? Thought you, Pope n Cleo were off gettin’ some beers?” He then quizzes, trying to play it off, he can essentially feel John B’s interrogation looming.

The Routledge boy shrugs, “We were, we got back like ten minutes ago, you not hear us call out?”

Busted. He’s so fucking busted.

JJ clears his throat as he leans back on his arms, “Was probably nappin’ the sun has been killin’ me off, bro.”

“Uh huh, you sure it’s the sun that’s been making you all…distracted?” John B quizzes, eyebrow raised as he stares intently at his best friend who refuses to look him in the eye. Completely out of character for JJ’s golden retriever like nature, he never avoided eyes with anyone unless he was afraid.

JJ clenched his jaw, his eyes unknowingly travelling to you once more and this time, John B follows his line of sight and his mind clicks into place.

“Ah.” He him making JJ’s head snap toward him as the Maybank boy narrows his eyes toward his best friend.

“What? What does ‘ah’ mean?” JJ interrogates quickly, nudging JB with his knee so the boy would answer him instead of wearing a very annoying smirk on his sun kissed face.

“Ah means that you have feelings for y/n.” John B states bluntly, deciding to not beat around the bush because he knew better than anyone that beating around the bush is exactly the thing that has prevented you and JJ from confronting your feelings for this long.

JJ shifts uncomfortably and shakes his head, “The fuck? Only feelings I have for y/n are like the same ones I have for like…Kiara and Cleo, hell even you man.” JJ quickly defends and from the corner of his eye, he tries not to watch as you laugh so beautifully at something Sarah said.

Your laugh was like JJ’s own personal drug, if he could bottle the sound and get drunk to it every night he would.

John B laughs dryly before saying, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jay, she obviously likes or even loves you back so why not just…you know?” He says, imitating kissing motions with his hands as JJ’s face scrunches up.

“First of all, that makes you look like your a puppet bein’ controlled or some shit,” JJ begins, sitting up slightly in the hammock “And secondly, she obviously doesn’t like me and I don’t like her, we’re just friends.” He stresses, shrugging despite the desperate look in his eyes that always tells John B the truth of it.

And to prove himself wrong, both you and JJ turn your heads at the same time, catching each other’s gaze for a few moments. You always felt as though the world comes come to a halt when this happens, as though both you and him were the only ones in the world but then you feel Kiara nudge your shoulder and you remember JJ said he basically wouldn’t feel the same way about you, ever.

John B shook his head with a small laugh as he watches the interaction, standing up from the hammock as JJ’s eyes dart from yours and up to John B who gives him a quick pat to the shoulder.

“I don’t know what you tell yourself, bro, but…friends don’t look at each other like that.”

3rd time: AFTER A FIGHT WITH LUKE.

The third time that JJ is told you love him probably goes down in the worst way possible.

JJ had just had a huge argument with his father, the reason for which he couldn’t even remember now, all he knows is Luke had punched him square in the jaw and followed it with a kick to the ribs for good measure.

So, JJ was bottled to the brim with anger. And to make matters worse? You were looking at him with so much love that it made him feel sick, he didn’t deserve that love. He didn’t deserve you.

He was currently sat on the dock of the Château, face tensed and twisted with anger as he stared out at the water and you sat beside him…face twisted with anguish at the fact this had happened to the boy you loved.

JJ couldn’t look at you, again. But not because he didn’t want to but because he knew that if he did, he’d likely flip the top off the bottle that was holding everything inside of him and the thought of doing so absolutely terrified him.

“Do you want me to get some ice for your cheek? It’d probably help with the swelling.” You ask softly, eyes trailing down the side of the boys face as he doesn’t respond.

JJ really wanted you to be quiet but your love and care was overflowing and his was overcome by a blinding anger that he was struggling hard to contain, the anger that was hanging loosely by a thread which he sensed was about to be snapped at any moment.

“Or maybe a beer? Or I could roll a joint? It might be good if you-“

“God, would you just shut the fuck up!”

Snap.

Your face subtly drops but you’re quick to pick it back up, you know you have no right to be upset, he’s just angry at his dad. He’s not angry at you, right?

“All you ever fuckin’ do is yap down my ear, ‘oh do you want some ice JJ?’, ‘do you like this new shirt I got JJ?’, ‘I love you, JJ.” The boy mocks and you feel as though you’re being sliced open, your feelings laid bare like a wounded animal.

JJ scoffs out a dry humourless laugh as he raises to his feet, you are once again embarrassingly quick to follow. “I mean, it’s so fuckin’ tiring, you spout so much worthless shit down my ear like how am I supposed to get a clear thought when you’re clinging to me like I’m some sort of lost limb! It’s pathetic as shit, bro!”

His chest heaves in pure anger, anger you desperatley try to believe isn’t directed at you.

“This is just your anger talkin’, Jay, it’s not me you’re angry at its-“ JJ groans loudly enough to cut you off as his hands gesture to you wildly.

“And here you go again! Wafflin’ bullshit that I don’t give a fuck about, dictating to me how I should feel! Is that what you hoped? When you told me you loved me? That you’d get the same thing said back?” Your heart beat is sickeningly fast in your chest and you try to will your voice to come out as strong when you mutter;

“I mean, maybe? I-I never expected for you to say it back-“

“Damn y/n, I mean I know you’re smart but I never took you to be blind as shit! You and me? We ain’t gonna happen!” As JJ’s fuse burns out, his chest heaving and his words all but escaping him your heart shatters.

You both stand there, staring widely at one another.

Regret seeps into JJ’s eyes so quickly that you don’t have time to notice, your own eyes holding so much hurt that it cuts right through JJ’s anger and grasps harshly at his heart. Tugging roughly at the love he has for you, his blue eyes sweeping over your soul shattering expression.

JJ wants you to scream back, he wants you to hit him, he knows he deserves it. But you’re not his dad, and he’s unleashed his anger on you like you were.

You’d never lay a hand on him, the thought of doing so would likely make you keel over and vomit. You’re probably the most gentle person he’s ever come across and he’s just thrown whatever gentleness you’d extended to him, through your love for him, right back right into your face. Harshly.

And all you say in response?

Nothing at all.

You nod, tears now horrifically slipping down your face as you simply turn and walk away.

JJ’s ashamed to admit he doesn’t go after you, he remains frozen in place. Mind whirring at the fact that for a second, he’d acted exactly like his father.

+1: JJ SAYS IT BACK.

You never claimed to be an expert on love, you actually found it incredibly hard to believe in. Growing up and not seeing your parents love one another is a harsh reminder that you don’t actually know what love is supposed to be.

Or, maybe you do.

It’s the love you hold so dearly for your friends, the small things you love like the music you listen to and the mismatched socks you wear.

Love is how you’d define what you held in your heart for JJ, despite all the cruel words he’d hauled your way.

There is one thing your parents taught you about love…the fact that it hurts.

You’d never seen your parents actively be happy together, but when you looked upon old photos and gazed at your older siblings you knew they must’ve loved each other once upon a time. You and your siblings were a product of that love, the proof that danced in front of their faces to ensure they don’t forget. Proof of a love that burned out.

You don’t think your love for JJ will ever burn out and that’s what hurts you the most. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry at him for what he said, because he was right.

Why did you expect him to feel the same way? Why did you even hold out hope?

You hadn’t seen the Maybank boy since your fight, Sarah had told you that he was searching high and low for you but you’d somehow managed to stay out of his path.

In other words? You were hiding on the beach where you first told JJ you loved him. In a very cliche movie kind of way, you knew he wouldn’t think to check this particular spot until the last minute.

And you didn’t intend on being here when he did figure it out, but, in the aftermath? You’re insanely glad you were.

You hear him approach, you don’t acknowledge him but JJ approaches anyway and he stands still just watching you for a few moments, clearly undecided on what he could say to you.

JJ had come up with a million different speeches and scenarios of how this would play out but he didn’t expect to be tongue tied the minute he caught sight of you laying on the beach, simply gazing up at the stars.

So, he brings himself to lay beside you. He keeps a respectful distance but the fact you aren’t maiming him to death or screaming for him to leave gives him the slightest flicker of hope.

“You know, it’s uh crazy as shit to think about the stars, they’re just a bunch of dead suns but they’re still vibin’ up in the sky.” JJ quotes and he swears he sees the corner of your lip twitch, you just won’t give him the satisfaction of a smile.

“I always liked the stars, in a sort of fucked up way, they remind me that i’m not alone. That there’s billions of people under the same exact sky livin’ and breathin’ at the same time as me.” He rambles, his head now turning to you so he can gaze upon you.

This time, you’re the one who can’t bring yourself to look back.

“What I’m tryna say is, the stars…they remind me of you.” At that, your eyes find his, JJ smiling softly as he catches your gaze.

“Stars are so beautiful, they can direct you on the places you need to go a-and they remind you that no matter what, they’ll always be there, so insanely gorgeous.” You sit up and JJ is proudly fast to follow you this time.

“Wh- why are you saying this, JJ?” You whisper, voice so gentle that JJ’s heart aches at the fact he said all those cruel things to you.

“I’m saying this because…I-I love you, and i’m sorry i’ve been such a fucking idiot and i’ve been hiding behind this stupid ass wall I put up but i just know that ever since I met you…no one else has been worth even thinkin’ about.” He rambles desperately, hands coming to clasp your own as you stare up at him.

You’re so beautiful that JJ has to physically restrain himself from simply smashing his lips onto yours before you can take the time to respond.

You stare at him with so much fear in your eyes that JJ imagines it’s exactly what he looked like when you told him you loved him that first time.

“B-but what if things get like complicated? What if we fight? I-I mean-“ You start but JJ is quick to cut you off.

“I don’t care how complicated this gets, baby, I want you.” He says so earnestly and full of meaning that it takes you all but two seconds to lean forward and kiss him.

JJ happily excepts your kiss, the two of you breathing a sigh of relief at the feeling.

And from the corner of his eye, JJ thinks he sees the stars shine a little bit brighter.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank x pogue!reader #outer banks #obx pogues #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #fluff #angst #no smut #y/n #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #outer banks pogues #jj x you #Spotify

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sanguineterrain · 6 months ago

Note

hey sanne! hope you're having a good day!

love your fics soo much and i always jump up a little when i get a notification for when you post on ao3!

i have a request if it interests you! what if jay and reader get stuck in a hostage situation together? like at a bank or a convenience store or something? just obsessed with the idea of jason being protective and badass in his civilian identity!

thank you for your lovely fics! 💕

thanks for the request!

jason todd x gn!reader. mild violence, robbery, jason being cute and sweet and a little awkward as per, reader is guilty of judging jason by his appearance.

****

The bell above the door chimes as you enter your favorite convenience store. You haven't been in a while, but the older clerk still nods and smiles at you, saying hello in an accent you don't know. You greet him back.

He's a nice man, sometimes sneaking in a free pack of gum into your bag. Proof that capitalism hasn't squashed everyone's spirit yet.

Actually, you used to regularly stop here to get a treat on your walk home. Lately, though, the prices have been too steep for your meager wages.

Three dollars for a bag of chips is actually ridiculous. Are they 24K gold chips? Will they cure fear gas syndrome?

Stupid inflation.

You take a step back, thinking maybe the price will lower if you put some distance between you. Instead, you bump into someone's shoulder. You quickly back away, apologies on your lips.

Whoa.

The shoulder belongs to possibly one of the biggest guys you've ever seen. Even swallowed up in his red hoodie, he looks like he could bench press four of you. He towers over the packaged cookie display, which is what he'd been looking at before your misstep.

He's also wearing long sleeves and jeans in eighty degree weather, which is... a choice. Maybe he has an iron deficiency. You want to tell him but think better of it.

"Sorry," you say at the same time that he says, "Sorry, y'okay?"

His voice is soft and deep. You nod, and he barely glances at you before he tucks in closer to the shelf, as if anticipating for you to pass him.

Instead, you bump into the adjacent shelf and knock a couple Doritos bags to the floor.

"Dammit," you whisper.

Hoodie bends down before you do, startling you with his speed. He puts the chips back. He looks at you, and you look at him.

His face is young, nose crooked like it's been in a lot of fights. He has a scar traveling from his right eye across his face to his lip.

Never judging a book by its cover is great in theory, but this is Gotham. Judgment keeps you safe.

He's cute, though. His lips are pink and full. There's a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose.

But you're not about to interact with anyone more than you need to at a convenience store, so you turn around and hope he doesn't try to approach you.

And it's like Hoodie can hear your thoughts because a moment later, he goes to another aisle, leaving you alone. You relax and peruse the chips in peace.

Cheetos. Are Cheetos worth three dollars and tax, though?

Maybe just a drink.

You go to the fridges and stare, debating between a ginger ale and a Snapple when the bell above the door jingles.

"This is a robbery!"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

You turn and see a guy in a ski mask with a gun pointed at the cashier. The old clerk is shaking and has his hands up. Yeah, you're never coming back here again. Overpriced Cheetos aren't worth it.

But then to your right, you see Hoodie, crouched on the ground. He gestures for you to get low. You hesitate.

"Hey," he says, as quietly as he can. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm gonna get us outta here alive, okay? But you gotta trust me a little. C'mere."

Hearing him speak at length, it's clear that Hoodie is Gotham-born and bred. And he's certainly not from the Heights. His drawl is thick and, dare you say, comforting. It's old-school Jersey, like you could walk into a diner and find him chatting with the retirees. The thought startles you.

What was that about books and covers?

You get low like he wants and scurry over to him. He scoots back against the last fridge and gestures for you to do the same.

"This is the blind spot for the cashier," Hoodie whispers. "I don't think he saw us, so you'll be okay here."

You nod. You can't speak. Can't move. Can't breathe.

"Hey." Hoodie tilts his head to find your eyes. His eyes are a brilliant teal. What a pretty color. "Hey, y'alright? Can you make a fist for me?"

You make a loose fist. He nods.

"Good. Now..." He checks around the shelf. It sounds like the clerk is still emptying the register. "Squeeze your fist and inhale. Then release your fist and exhale. Can y'do that?"

You clumsily follow his directions. He makes the fist with you.

"Good, good. Okay. 'S okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to ya, alright?"

You have no idea how he can promise something like that.

"When I push this shelf, run for the other side, okay? And when he's distracted, you'll leave out the front."

Your eyes fly to his in alarm.

"What?" you hiss. "Are you crazy? He'll shoot you!"

"I'm really fast," he says.

Oh, okay. He's insane too. Cool.

"Hurry the fuck up, old man!" the robber shouts. "I will shoot you."

Hoodie glares venomously in his direction. "Can't let 'im get away. Ready?"

No, not ready, definitely not ready!

He pushes a shelf with one leg. It crashes to the floor. Briefly, you wonder if he's ever crushed a watermelon between his thighs. From the size of them, he definitely could crush—

Okay, not the time.

He nudges your arm when you don't move. You book it to the other side of the store like he ordered. The robber clomps across the store, leaving the clerk.

"That was stupid, guy!" the robber shouts. "Really fucking stupid!"

Bang! You yelp and duck.

"What's stupid is your aim," Hoodie growls.

There's a few grunts and a landing punch. By the time you get up, the robber is out cold on the floor. Hoodie is disassembling the gun and unloading the chamber. Then he goes to the clerk.

"Thank you, good boy," the clerk says, still wobbly with fear. "Good Jason. So good."

Jason. A name for your savior.

"It's okay, Mr. Kourakis." Jason keeps talking, but it's not a language you understand. It's... Greek?

Just who is this guy, exactly?

Mr. Kourakis nods, shaky hands grasping Jason's forearms as he steadies himself. Jason comforts him for a moment, then gently extricates himself to retrieve the money from the unconscious robber and return it to the register.

On impulse, you take a Mrs. Fields double chocolate chip cookie from the shelf on your way to the register.

Mr. Kourakis keeps talking, obviously panicked. Jason soothes him in his rumbling voice, picking up the shelf he knocked over with one hand, like he's holding a basketball.

"Sorry, um, did you call the police?" you ask, interrupting their conversation.

Jason glances at you. "No cops. They're messy and inept. I told Mr. Kourakis that I'll take care of this."

Your brows rise. Inept? Looks like your savior has a great vocabulary too.

"And by 'take care of,' you mean...?"

He smiles a little, the scar on his lip stretching white. "Not like that. I meant that, uh, I got a buddy who knows a Bat."

Right, of course. You're four blocks from the Red Hood's territory.

Jason touches Mr. Kourakis' arm and tells him something else in Greek. Mr. Kourakis nods, then wearily flips the OPEN sign to CLOSED. He disappears into the back room after that.

"You can go," Jason says, not unkindly. He types something on his phone. Then he shuts it off and looks at you. "You hurt at all?"

You shake your head. You're still trying to puzzle him out. He's the weirdest Gothamite you've ever met.

"How do you know Greek?" you ask.

You don't know why you're asking questions. You should just take the blessing and leave.

"Study abroad," he says around a smile, like he's telling a joke that you're not privy to.

"...Right. And did you learn how to disarm a robber while you were abroad, too?"

"Nope," he says mildly. "I take jiu-jitsu classes at the Y."

You look at the crumpled robber on the floor. His mask is off and he has a black eye and a drying bloody nose. You doubt they teach that at the Y.

"Thank God for the Y, I guess," you say, turning back to Jason.

He shrugs. "Gotta defend yourself in Gotham."

No arguments there.

"Yeah. And thank you for, um. What you did back there. I got—I've never been held at gunpoint, and I guess I just... I dunno..."

Jason steps forward and makes an aborted gesture, like he was going to touch your arm. He doesn't, though, instead just nodding.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he says tenderly. "'S normal to be scared. You did great."

Jeez, is this guy a counselor? He looks too young to be doing that, though.

"You didn't seem scared," you say.

Jason shrugs, suddenly tense. "Ah, I just hide it well."

"Oh. Well, anyway." You put a few dollars on the counter and hold out the Mrs. Fields cookie. "'Least I can do is buy your cookie."

Jason's eyes widen. "I—y-you don't hafta—"

"It's really no trouble! It's all I can do to thank you. Because you really saved our butts today."

You shake the cookie a little. Jason hesitantly accepts it, then glances at your money on the counter.

"You shouldn't," he says. "This place price-gouges. Chips for three bucks is insane."

You grin. "It really is! But I don't mind. I've kinda lost my appetite, in any case. You deserve a cookie, Jason."

He blinks once-twice-three times at your use of his name. "Oh. It wasn't a big deal."

Is he serious? He can't be. "Of course it was! You risked your life for me. Thank you, seriously."

You start to back up towards the exit. Jason watches you, a mix of bewilderment and bemusement.

"Well, I gotta get home. Feed my cat." You make finger guns. God, you're lame. A good-looking guy saves your life, and you lose all sense. "Thanks again."

"Wait!"

Jason follows you outside, cookie in hand. His mouth is open like he's about to ask a question. You wait expectantly.

"Um." He swallows. "Prince Street."

"What?"

"The bodega on Prince Street. I know the owner. He's got better prices. You can tell him you're my friend. To, y'know, get a discount. Not... not that I think you're—I mean, I don't—"

You smile. Jason cuts himself off, looking a little frustrated.

"You're really sweet," you say. If you were crazier, you might kiss his cheek. "Thanks for the tip. And thanks for today. Take care, Jason."

"Yeah," he says as you walk down the block. "Yeah, you too."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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captain-hawks · 7 months ago

Text

till one of us caves

atsumu miya x f!reader

In which Osamu asks his brother to keep you company while you're closing the shop alone one night. And it wouldn't be an issue...if Atsumu wasn't the bane of your goddamn existence ever since your stupid drunken hookup years ago.

wc: 3.7k

c: 18+, smut, enemies to lovers speed run, the complete and utter defilement of onigiri miya (sorry osamu), miscommunication, fingering, unprotected p in v, atsumu is down so bad and also he's an idiot, protective!atsumu, miya twin banter, best friend!osamu

“Absolutely not.”

Osamu pauses in the middle of counting cash at the register and glances up to follow where your narrowed gaze is focused—a head of blonde hair on its way through the front doors of Onigiri Miya.

“I didn’t want ya closin’ alone,” Osamu replies, returning his attention to the stack of bills in his hand.

“Hey dickhead, I hope yer feedin’ me for this!”

Instant headache.

Instant fucking headache.

You let out a long-suffering, exaggerated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re only leaving an hour early. I can handle this alone, Osamu. I promise.”

Osamu closes the register, turning around to look at you with his arms crossed. “It’s a Saturday night. I don’t like you dealin’ with the drunk stragglers by yourself.”

Glancing around, you pick up the only vaguely threatening object within arm’s length—a plastic spork. “I know self defense.”

Raising an eyebrow, Osamu glances from your face to the small utensil clutched between your fingers. “Wouldn’t be the first time Tsumu’s been stabbed with a spork,” he mutters.

“Fooooooooooood,” said twin dramatically whines, plastering himself across the counter like a fainting Victorian maiden.

“Get yer sweaty ass offa there,” Osamu grunts, snapping a rag against Atsumu’s arm.

He yelps, muttering something under his breath before finding a normal sitting position on the stool.

“Alright, now get outta here so you’re not late for your date,” Atsumu chides, running a hand through his hair.

It’s obnoxious, actually—the way he still manages to look infuriatingly attractive even with his sweaty bleach-blonde hair sticking up in every direction, his face still flushed and voice a little hoarse from practice. At the very least, he had the decency to toss on a clean black tee with MSBY emblazoned in large gold letters across the back.

You hate Atsumu Miya and his stupidly perfect face.

And his calves—who the fuck has calves that nice.

You also hate Osamu, your best friend and boss, for unceremoniously dumping your least favorite Miya into your lap at 8 o’clock on a Saturday night.

“It’s not a date,” Osamu yells from the office, walking out with a jacket slung over his shoulder.

“Looks like ya showered for once today, dirtbag,” Atsumu shoots back, mouth full of rice. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“Choke,” Osamu deadpans as he heads for the door, “…but not in here. Don’t have time for all that paperwork.”

Atsumu salutes his brother as you stand in the middle of the shop with your hands wrapped around the broom.

“Can’t promise what kind of paperwork you’re gonna have to do after leaving us alone together,” you mutter.

Osamu leans in, patting the side of your face. “Just promise me you’ll mop up the blood.”

—

You’ve known the Miya twins for years now, though it was Osamu that you first became friends with after a shared class in your second year of university.

Atsumu was more like the miserable cold that you accidentally bring home from vacation.

The miserable cold who you’re instantly, stupidly attracted to from the moment his brother introduces him to you. Who you end up drunkenly making out with in bed after a party one night.

Who passes out midway through and disappears before you’re awake the next morning.

Who had a fucking girlfriend at the time, unbeknownst to you. Knowledge courtesy of Osamu, who nearly undeservingly took a textbook to the head when he told you.

Who, to this day, three years later, has never even acknowledged that it happened.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t been harboring a stupid crush on him for months. And if perhaps you’d been a little more drunk, enough to forget the taste of his lips, the press of his fingertips into your hips. But naturally, that little hiccup drove an irrevocable wedge between the two of you, leading you to regard the blonde Miya in a perpetually antagonistic manner until the end of time.

Such is life.

“I think you might rile ‘im up better than even I can nowadays,” Osamu had observed once, after Atsumu balked in aggravation when you returned from picking up everyone��s fast food orders and handed him a kid’s meal instead.

Atsumu, never one to back down from a challenge, met your piss poor attitude in spades, going so far as to barge in on your dates on occasion, plopping right down at the table and obnoxiously stuffing whatever appetizer was in front of him into his mouth like you’d invited him.

—

Surprisingly, despite the restaurant’s minimal square footage, the two of you manage to avoid one another for the next forty-five minutes—Atsumu quietly sits at a table watching game replays on his phone while you wipe down the counters.

You almost forget he’s there, until the bell above the door dings to announce what’ll probably be the last customer of the night.

And—fuck.

Osamu kicked this guy out last week when he wouldn’t take no for an answer after you refused to give him your number.

“Hey pretty girl,” a tipsy voice slurs as the man settles down at the counter.

“Sorry, we’re about to close,” you tell him, not looking up from the pile of receipts you’re sorting on the other side.

“S’not why I’m here,” he chuckles.

Take a hint, buddy.

“We’re closing soon,” you repeat firmly.

A hand grasps your wrist, and you yelp as he murmurs, “What’re you doing after this?”

“Get your fuckin’ hands off of her, and get the fuck out,” a cold voice interrupts.

A hand clamps down firmly on the man’s shoulder, and you watch the pain flit across his face as fingertips dig into his collarbone.

“Now,” Atsumu adds, his voice so harsh it brokers no room for argument.

You may call yourself an expert in Miya antagonization. But as you look at Atsumu’s stormy, furious expression, the tense set of his jaw, you realize that you’ve never seen him truly angry.

Not like this.

The man quickly gets up from the stool, putting his hands up in front of him as he stumbles backward and says, “I didn’t mean anything by it, man.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Atsumu replies, his voice low. “I’m sure my brother was a real nice guy when he told ya to leave last time. I ain’t nice. Don’t fuckin’ come back here.”

The silence is deafening when the front door swings shut, broken only by the sound of Atsumu twisting the lock into place and flipping the sign to CLOSED. Your heart, meanwhile, is frantically pounding in your chest.

Atsumu wasn’t even here when that happened last week, which means Osamu must have told him for whatever reason, and…

“You alright?”

Atsumu interrupts you from your thoughts, and you glance up to find a disarmingly concerned expression burrowed into his features.

“Yeah…thanks,” you exhale, quickly turning around to busy yourself with anything but staring at the downward curve of his lips.

You have all of ten seconds to yourself before Atsumu comes to stand beside you behind the counter, idly tidying a pile of napkins as he explains, “Samu was worried that creep might come back, so he was gonna cancel his plans tonight so you wouldn’t be alone if he did. I told him I’d come make sure ya were alright.”

You’re not sure why, but suddenly, you’re angry.

You’re really fucking angry.

Maybe it’s because you’re a little raw in the wake of the adrenaline rush from that uncomfortable encounter, a little shaken by the stranger’s boldness and the way Atsumu stepped in without a second thought.

Maybe you swear it looked like Atsumu was about to reach out to you afterward, his hand falling back to his side in an aborted gesture between one breath and the next.

“Since when do you care if I’m alright, Atsumu?”

Atsumu startles beside you. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you led me on years ago and nearly fucked me at a party—you probably would have, if you didn’t pass out in my bed halfway through taking off your pants. You disappeared the next morning, failed to inform me that you had a girlfriend, and then conveniently acted like it never fucking happened.”

He stares at you, mouth slightly agape. “I’m sorry, I what now?”

You turn to face him fully, crossing your arms, an incredulous look on your face. “You’re joking, right?”

“Was that…oh….” Atsumu scratches the back of his head, trailing off. “That’s the night I blacked out.”

“I mean yeah, you were kind of trashed.”

“No, like that’s the night that made me realize I had to cut back on drinking. I’ve got no memory of what happened. Zero. Haven’t drank that much since.”

“So was it not concerning that you woke up in my bed?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“I hardly knew ya back then. Didn’t even know that was your dorm room, and you were hoggin’ all the covers. Couldn’t even see yer face before I panicked and crawled my hungover, half-dead ass back to me and Samu’s.”

Well, this is certainly news to you.

“…and Osamu never told you.”

Well, why would he, after you spent two hours bitching to him about it and then threatened to never speak to him again if he made the situation even more embarrassing by telling Atsumu you were upset.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p for emphasis before sobering a bit as he says in a more serious tone, “I’m sorry. For doing that to you, and for forgetting that it happened.”

You reach out, punching Atsumu in the shoulder.

“The fuck was that for?” he exclaims.

“So why have you been such an insufferable jackass all these years?”

Atsumu raises his eyebrows, looking affronted. “You haven’t exactly been a ray of sunshine either, sweetheart.”

Well, true.

But still.

(You try to ignore what the stupid pet name does to your heart, which is currently in the midst of a traitorous backflip inside of your chest.)

“At least I didn’t barge in and ruin your dates for no reason,” you glare.

“That was like, twice,” Atsumu defends himself. “Maybe three times.”

You stare at him.

“The fourth time doesn’t count, that guy was a dickhead. Samu wanted to punch ‘im, too.”

“You ate an entire basket of breadsticks.”

Atsumu shrugs, taking a step closer to you. “They’re bottomless for a reason.”

You’re not sure when it happened, but you’re pressed up against the prep counter in the back of the shop, and one of Atsumu’s hands is resting on the cool metal surface beside your hip. Not quite touching you, but you swear you can feel the heat of him all the same.

“You ruined my dates for breadsticks?” you ask quietly, holding his gaze.

Atsumu’s thumb twitches, and you feel the featherlight touch through your jeans. “I ruined your dates because I was jealous.”

Blood rushes in your ears, your mind struggling to comprehend the rush of emotion flooding through you. Embarrassment, elation, shock, annoyance—and something else, something with a darker, richer edge.

Something that has the next words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them, “Did you think doing that was going to make me take you home and fuck you instead?”

Atsumu has the decency to flush, but he only further closes the gap between your bodies, his nose brushing against yours as he replies, “I hated how much you hated me. And I hated how much I still wanted you.”

“You’re an idiot, Miya.”

He laughs.

He laughs, and it’s a low, rich sound that dances down your spine and curls up low in your belly.

“Yeah, yer probably right,” he exhales, his breath hot against your lips. “I should probably find another tactic.”

“I’ve heard drunken hookups work wonders,” you sigh, voice tinged with sarcasm.

His free hand comes to rest on your other side, effectively caging you in. “I’d have to be a fuckin’ idiot to fumble the bag with you twice.”

“Who said I’m still interested?” you reply, putting an inch of space back between your mouths, if only for the sake of your own sanity.

Atsumu hums. “I do have eyes, ya know.”

You don’t miss a beat, “Maybe I’m secretly dating your brother, and I just objectively like the look of your face, as his twin. Like a natural, biological reaction.”

“Yer not datin’ Samu,” Atsumu replies evenly. “He couldn’t handle ya.”

You glare at him. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Atsumu smirks at your indignation. “You’re outta his league.”

“And what exactly is my league?”

“Some stupid, sweaty pro volleyball player whose got it pretty damn bad for ya, who would settle for a hate fuck at this point if that’s all ya wanna give him.”

You know Atsumu clocks the way your breath hitches in your throat, the slight widening of your pupils that you can’t disguise at the bald, shameless truth of his words.

The look on his face is so ridiculously endearing, you want to kiss it right off.

Pushing yourself upward with your palms, you sit up on the counter, and Atsumu shifts forward to stand between your legs.

“Osamu would kill us.”

His nose caresses yours again, and he rests one hand on the side of your face. “For doing something other than fightin’? He’d throw a party.”

“For turning Onigiri Miya into a house of ill repute.”

Atsumu chokes.

“But there’s just one little thing, Atsumu,” you continue.

“What’s that?” he asks carefully, each word a huff of warm air dancing across your mouth.

You exhale, shuddering at the feeling of Atsumu’s other hand idly tracing the exposed sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. “Can you handle me?”

Atsumu’s thumb skirts across the bottom of your chin before he leans in, mouthing his next words against your lips, “Have I ever told you how hot it is when you’re mean to me?”

Your answering laugh is swallowed by a kiss, an all-consuming kiss that has you gasping into Atsumu’s mouth as he licks his way into yours.

There’s no preamble for the way Atsumu’s tongue dances across your own, the thorough way he tastes you—the groan that rumbles in his throat as you take his bottom lip between your teeth.

Kissing Atsumu Miya is like setting a wildfire loose in your chest, all the oxygen swallowed up by his greedy, hungry heat. Your nerves thrum, the vibration rattling to the tips of your toes, and you’re helpless to resist the urge to pull him closer.

The second one of your legs begins to hike up around Atsumu’s waist, he grabs both, urging you to wrap your thighs around him, and he groans into your mouth as you find yourself flush with the solid proof of his arousal.

“Ya have no fuckin’ clue how bad I’ve wanted you,” he murmurs, drawing a keening noise from your lips as he hotly mouths his way down the side of your neck.

On the court, Atsumu Miya is an indomitable force. He’s unwaveringly confident and effortlessly sure of himself as a setter, always in control.

The crowd falls quiet, the ball follows his trajectory.

It’s a practiced dance, and he’s the conductor.

But here, pressed up against the counter in his brother’s restaurant, with your fingers tangled in his hair and his warm, soft hands sliding up beneath your shirt to clutch your waist, there’s a lawless, frantic edge to him. For every precise, focused move—like a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear that he somehow just knows will make you gasp, and the dizzying way he cups the back of your head when he kisses you deeper—you can feel the wild, barely-restrained desire in the unfiltered chorus of groans you’re not even sure he’s aware are falling past his lips.

It’s slipping—his control.

And you don’t want him to stop.

“Atsumu,” you whine into his mouth when he finally, finally slides a hand up under your bra, cupping your breast and teasing at your sensitive, pebbled nipple.

“Yeah?” he pants, kissing his way around the curve of your jaw, only pausing to help you in your endeavor to take off your shirt.

He wastes no time in unclipping your bra, his deft fingers making quick work of the clip, and his expression is nothing short of lustful reverence when he takes in the sight of your naked breasts before him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly, taking a breast in each of his palms while he leans in to press a kiss to your sternum, and whatever you were going to say promptly exits your mind a beat later. Wet, hot heat engulfs your nipple, and you glance down, nearly choking on your own spit at the sight of Atsumu sucking on your breasts.

Rocking your hips into him, you let out a breathy whine at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your cunt, the fabric of his athletic shorts doing nothing to hide his thick, throbbing insistence.

Atsumu moans against your tits, and the filthy, wet sound of him shamelessly lapping at them sends a fresh gush of arousal between your legs, your underwear now soaked with it. You reach between your bodies, doing your needy cunt no favors at all when you feel just how thick Atsumu is as you wrap your fingers around him.

“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ come if you keep doing that,” he lets out a low, ragged sound caught somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

“I’d rather you come somewhere else,” you tell him, pulling down his shorts and boxers to let his flushed, leaking shaft spring free.

Atsumu takes your face in both hands, kissing you hard and filthy as he unbuttons your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear and leaving both in a forgotten heap on the floor. And when you wrap your legs back around him and rub your slick folds down the length of his cock, you’re already dangerously close to coming from that alone, too.

He slides a finger into you, muttering a string of expletives under his breath when he feels the sopping squelch of how wet you already are for him. One digit soon becomes two pumping in and out of you, and while it’s still not enough to quell the greedy desperation he’s ignited, he’s barely begun rubbing circles into your aching clit when you’re already shaking in his arms and moaning in the throes of your climax.

And then he’s stroking himself, groaning softly, like he thinks this is what he has to do now to take care of his throbbing cock.

Like you’re satisfied already, as if you’ve somehow had your fill of him.

As if two fingers between your legs would ever be enough to encapsulate all that you want of Atsumu fucking Miya.

(And really, it’s a lot, quite frankly. Now that you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.)

“Fuck me, Atsumu,” you plead.

He pauses, chest heaving, voice rough as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you exhale against his lips, and his mouth slots against yours as he notches his shaft at your entrance and sinks his cock into you.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you’re reduced to moans and whimpers while he stretches you open as your entire body floods with pleasure, your mind hazy with desire. Once he bottoms out, you feel so full you want to cry. You want to keep your legs wrapped around his waist and cockwarm him all night. You want him to fuck you stupid. You want to ride his cock until you both can’t move.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, hips rocking as he thrusts in and out of you, your walls fluttering with pleasure at the rhythmic push and drag. “Wanna take you home and do this again and again.”

“Me too,” you tell him, and you can feel the way his cock throbs inside of you at your admission, his fingertips tightening around your waist.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not gonna last much longer,” he admits, grinning against your mouth.

The pleasure is rapidly building up inside of you again, the filthy slide of Atsumu’s tongue in your mouth only further fanning the flames, one hand trailing back up to tease at your hard nipples.

And you want to tell him, “Same,” because you’re dangerously close to the edge already, years of studiously ignored desire all spilling over into a crazed, insatiable need that’s making your pussy throb.

But instead what you whine is, “Harder.”

Atsumu groans, the noise nearly as lewd as the continuous sound of his cock pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the only warning that he heard you before he picks you up off of the counter, plunging right back into you the moment you’re lying flat on the floor.

With the ground beneath your bodies for purchase, Atsumu begins to roughly pound into you, the fingers of one hand tangling with your own as the other trails toward your clit.

You moan his name repeatedly, like some fucked up carnal prayer on the floor of Onigiri Miya, and as he rubs circles into your swollen clit and whispers your own name just as desperately, you come so hard everything goes white, every sensation in your body drowned out by the sheer downpour of pleasure that you’re uncontrollably shaking with. Atsumu follows suit a moment later, pulling out of you and furiously fisting his cock until hot, thick spurts of cum are splattering all over your chest, groaning as he watches his seed paint your tits.

And just because you’re fairly certain what it’ll do to him, you reach down and swipe a glob off of your nipple while you both try to catch your breath, holding eye contact with him as you lick the cum off of your finger and swallow it.

Atsumu’s lips part as he stares at you, eyes widening a little bit before he looks down at his cock, which is already twitching again with interest.

–

Later, when you’re both lying tangled in Atsumu’s sheets, his phone lights up on his nightstand—

Samu: congrats Samu: there is literally a security camera in the shop Samu: also you’re disgusting you own a whole fuckin apartment to fuck in Samu: die slowly

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated<3!

#atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #dee writes

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tojisrealwifey · 9 months ago

Text

F In The Chat — r. sukuna

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: Sukuna puts on a show for his viewers, and you are the lead actress

・❥・characters: ryomen sukuna.

・❥・requests : rules

warnings: mdni, 18+, smut, mastrubation (f), degrotary terms (slut, whore), exhibitionism (kinda? he fucks you in front of thousands of viewers), fingerfucking, use of vibrator.

・❥・wc: 1.4k

・❥・masterlist

Head thrown back on the sofa, you heard quiet squelches, intermittent huffs, and sounds of keyboard clicking.

Sukuna had his attention on the screen, the chat flooding with comments as he worked through another area of crossfire.

He continued his commentary, unconcerned that you were fingering yourself, your arousal becoming a pool on the leather. It was he who gave you the order and instructed you to prepare yourself for him.

It had initially excited you but you were confused as to why he would ask that right before his scheduled streaming time.

But it all became evident when he booted up his streaming system while you were knuckles-deep in your cunt.

His webcam recorded his face as well as the scene behind him, including his bed. Next to his arrangement was a little loveseat—the one you're sitting in right now—positioned a little distance away from him.

Luckily, the webcam was unable to detect you, hiding you from his audience.

Your fingers worked inside you, letting out small moans, loud enough to make sure it was only audible to your boyfriend.

"S'kuna...please...you're so mean~"

You continued to whine and plead until Sukuna had no choice but to look at you. Swiftly muting himself for a second, he speaks in a low, teasing voice.

"Tch. C'mere, slut."

He commands, red eyes meeting yours. Your eyes sparkle eagerly as you fix your skirt, Sukuna going back to talk to his viewers.

"Y'all haven't met my bae yet, have you? C'mere doll." He holds out his hand, moving his chair back for you to slide in.

You walk into the frame, grinning sheepishly as Sukuna's hand circles your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

"Say hi, doll~"

He smirks into your ear, feeling your bare pussy flush against his covered thigh, the material of his sweats soaking up your slick. Your thighs clench together, growing hot due to the proximity.

"H-hello..." You give a brief smile, eyes catching the flood of comments.

'lucky bastard' 'you have a gf??!' 'she's smokin' hot bruh' 'sheesh possessive much?' 'show those hands kuna' '10 out of 10' 'he could do so much better' 'she's outta your league dude' 'bro continue the game' 'nice to meet ya!' 'what's her name?' 'he calls her doll?! i'm so jealous' 'i want that hand around my neck'

The inappropriate words woven throughout the comments cause your eyes to bulge. You pondered whether Sukuna had to endure comments like these on a regular basis and whether this was the norm.

And even though you try to contain your jealousy, you silently grit your teeth when you notice the comments that insult you or blatantly thirst over your boyfriend.

With your legs slung over one side of Sukuna's lap, you shift and snake your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest.

Sukuna chuckles, the verbal gesture reverberating on your cheek as he soothes a hand over your head.

"My baby was sleeping, don't mind her. Let's finish the fight." He says, shifting closer so everything below your waist is no longer in view.

He continues, discreetly muting himself a bit later knowing everyone's attention would be on the game now.

Since you were sitting sideways, he taps on your thigh, urging you to get closer.

"Lift your ass, baby."

You do so, leaning into him more to lift your hips sideways, your pussy open for him.

His hand drags up your skirt enough to uncover your ass, fingers immediately ghosting over your folds.

"So. Fucking. Wet."

He growls, his fingertips circling your clit at a torturing speed.

Your cunt pulses in anticipation, vision getting foggy at the thought of being fucked live. His fingertips circle your clit, your arousal cascading across your thigh.

"S'kuna...your fingers please..."

"Be quiet."

Your lips tremble at his denial as he continues to torment your clit. You glance at his computer screen, observing as his left hand continues to spam some buttons on the keyboard.

Although you wondered what he managed to do without using his mouse, and you would be right to assume that.

He was failing miserably but his attention was now fixated on you, noticing your cheeks glow red, eyes scrunched up, face pressed against his shirt.

His slender hand cups your cunt, wanting to see you grow desperate on his lap. You squirm as impatience looms over your being. You were one stroke away from fucking him then and there.

Thankfully your prayers were answered as Sukuna smoothly slips two fingers into your cunt. You hiss at the notable difference in your fingers and his, feeling your hole stretch further and his digits reach deeper.

This would never get old. No matter how many times he does this, his hands will always be your favorite.

You groan as he starts to move, thrusting slowly. You would have been complaining about the speed if it hadn't been for the delicious stretch.

"You're so wet, but I need you to be drenched. Need these juices all over my set up~"

Your eyes sting in embarrassment, not being able to contain your whimper due to his nasty words. As soon as he had said that, you were empty once again, hearing Sukuna rummaging through his desk.

You jolt hard once a harsh vibration pulse on your clit— unable to hold back, you let out a moan before instantly sealing your lips shut.

Sparing a glance at the chat, you saw numerous comments of people trash-talking your boyfriend's performance in the game, but none of them said anything about your wanton actions.

"Mmmm, eyes on me, slut. Keep moanin' for me. Need to see you bitch and whine like a whore."

"H-hurts 'Kuna! S-sensitive...please..."

He grins evilly, loving your tortured expression. Gaining an idea, the position of his hands changes around your body.

He moves you so that you were straddling him instead, back against his chest as he plunges the tiny vibrator into your cunt, walls molding around the silicon.

His hand was in between his crotch and your dripping sex, fingers not moving from your hole as he continued to finger you.

His left hand was no longer on the keyboard, but instead, they handled a small device, pressing a few buttons here and there.

You hadn't noticed the vibrations getting faster, but due to your last reaction, Sukuna amped up the speed to the third highest setting, making you harshly jolt, eyes rolling back.

Your vision blurs at the feeling, such cruel vibrations right against your cervix made your head dizzy, his fingers adding to the coil in your stomach.

"Fuck yourself on me. Just...like...that~ Keep crying bitch...So. Fucking. Sexy."

Your body started to move, hands on Sukuna's gaming chair handles as you separated your back from him, sliding your pussy across his fingers.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

You pant with every thrust, your juices dripping down his knuckles, a puddle on his lap.

By now, everyone on the livestream had noticed the filthy actions. It was hard not to with tears running down your face and drool seeping from your mouth.

Shame had long left your body, mind forgetting that there were thousands of people witnessing your whorish act.

To make things worse, Sukuna started to roll back his chair, webcam capturing a full view of your sloppy pussy. And for the cherry on top...

...he turned on the mic, just as you started gushing around him.

"Cum for you! Gonna cum! For you! Only you!"

PING!

"So full! My pussy is so full~!"

PING!

"Ngh-! Spit in my mouth 'Kuna! Wanna taste you..."

PING!

"Will be a slut for you, S'kuna! Please go deeper~!"

PING!

"Can feel you so deep 'Kuna~!"

PING!

"S'kuna~! Cumming!"

PING!

"Too much!"

PING!

Your loud moans drown out all the donation pings that flood his computer. Sukuna smirks on your shoulder, canines digging into the skin as he chuckles at your sloppy cunt.

His hands fondled your bra-less chest, your shirt molding over your tit as Sukuna groped your mound, nipples visible through the fabric.

"Such a pretty whore I have here...don't ya think?"

PING!

"Just look are this pussy..."

Sukuna maneuvers you to sit back close to his chest as his hands spread your legs apart, placing them on each side of his chair.

Placing the remote down, he spits on one hand, his other tearing off your shirt leaving you bare save for your skirt that was bunched up on your torso.

He later smooths his palm over your breast, spreading his saliva on your nipples making them perk up.

"Pretty tits too..."

"Ngh..."

"Shhh."

Sukuna gives a swift slap to your pussy when you started to whine, which only makes you yelp out once more.

PING!

His hands stay on your cunt, spreading your folds.

"...And look at this tiny hole. Fuck her every day too, it doesn't make a difference."

PING!

"Caught me a slutty one, tastes fucking delicious. Wanna see her squirt?"

PING!

"I'll take that as a yes. See baby? They love your sloppy cunt...what do you say?"

"T-thank y—fuuuckhh! Thank you!!"

"Good slut. Such a good girl..."

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #x reader smut #fem reader #anime x reader #anime x reader smut

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superyum · 8 months ago

Text

𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚; 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣, 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙

𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨; 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬/ 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮, 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙙𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙫, 𝙫 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙥 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢, 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠/𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚

𝙩𝙩𝙢; 𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙖 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 & 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙨𝙛 & 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝! 𝙄𝙧𝙞𝙨.

Predating! Barry who after many, many years of being secretly in love with Iris, decides that’s it time to stop waiting on her to get outta her relationship and finally notice him, but instead to move on.

Predating! Barry who has some really bad, ridiculous even, dates after coming to that conclusion. He’s starting to regret taking the dating scene seriously again.

Predating! Barry who bumps into you on his was leaving Jitters because he was late getting to a crime scene for his job. No surprise.

Predating! Barry who becomes tongue tied when he actually gets a good look at you—he definitely stares at you mouth agape for about a minute before snapping out of it.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I’m late for work.” he sputters out, hands waving around as he gestures to a random direction then to his case and then you.

Predating! Barry who almost fumbled the bag if he didn’t turn back around to awkwardly ask to buy you a coffee as an apology. Not now though! He had to get to work.

Predating! Barry who despite being a spontaneous coffee date, super speeds through over a dozen outfits that he think might impress you. Call him a try hard, but all the dates before this one were rough. He had a good feeling about you.

Predating! Barry who shows up early to said date, only to find you already there. Color him impressed and flattered.

Predating! Barry who manages to not say anything stupid during the date, at least nothing that didn’t make you laugh. Did he mention you have a really nice laugh? Yes. Yes, he did. He accidentally thought it out loud…

Predating! Barry who starts to feel like there’s something there; a spark between the two of you, otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed to a second date. Or a third, fourth or fifth one.

Predating! Barry who after the fifth date confesses he didn’t want to go on anymore dates where you weren’t officially his partner.

It was a peaceful night along the board walk of Central Park. The sun long set; the moon settling in the sky and yet the time slipping away didn’t matter to either Barry or you.

The conversation was airy, as it always was between you two. It flowed smoothy discussing your passions and dislikes that there was never a dull moment.

Barry noticed it never was with you. He stops, watching as you continue to walk before you turn around after noticing he wasn’t beside you.

He felt it, the way his tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth when you look at him with concern. But he had to say it—it was now or never—he didn’t want another Iris situation.

“Listen… I…I really like you—you’re amazing, pretty and—and smart! Will you go out with me?..”

There’s silence before you answer, “I thought we were already going out.”

Barry open and close his mouth multiple times before answering, “Well yeah but I mean officially—as lovers…?”

Boyfriend! Barry who is the most romantic man you’ve ever dated. Never fails to greet you with flowers every Saturday date night. And every date is different than the next, sometimes you’d order in and he’d have the most authentic food you’ve ever tasted. Can’t find it anywhere in town.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to feel some sense of normalcy. When he’s not the Flash, he’s just a guy who’s crashing into your arms after a long day at work. You ask about his day and vice versa, carding your hand through his hair as his breathing slows because this, you, were starting to feel like home.

Boyfriend! Barry who despite still running late to work, makes you breakfast every morning with the best coffee in the city before you’re even up in the morning. How’d he have enough time to do all this always amazed you. He even leaves a little love note on a sticky note, “I miss you,” or “You look beautiful this morning”.

Boyfriend! Barry who enjoys the little domestic moments of your relationship: washing the dishes as you dry them, reading the same book at the same pace so you can discuss it together, when you fix his tie on the off chance of waking up before him, something so mundane as brushing teeth before sleep before sharing a kiss in bed.

Boyfriend! Barry who tries so hard to keep his superhero lifestyle separate from his civilian lifestyle. He didn’t want you hurt because everyone that knows always gets hurt… he can’t lose you. Not when he’s starting to…

Boyfriend! Barry who is the “first” to bring up moving in together. He has all these facts to back up his reasoning without you even needing to question him: He practically already lives at your place, half his clothes are there, his tooth brush, he never really goes home and always spends the night with you.

Boyfriend! Barry who you once again shock with a “Barry, I already gave you a key to my place. I thought it was obvious..” and a shy smile. That’s what that key was for? He thought it was just in case of emergencies. He was rambling for nothing!

Boyfriend! Barry who doesn’t come home for hours until all his meta-human business injuries are 100% healed. He’s not ready to tell you about that side of him yet. Life was perfect; you are perfect.

Boyfriend! Barry whose little white lies turn to even bigger lies when you see something red on his collar one night. He panics, says it’s from work but you start to think something else.

Boyfriend! Barry whose, try as he might, superhero lifestyle starts to interfere with his relationship. Usually he can be in and out before you even notice depending on the situation, but a new dangerous meta has started to reck havoc over the city and he was the only one to save it.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to leave in the middle of date night, apologizing as he stumbles to put his shoes on, “I have to—It’s work. I’m sorry,” before kissing you with so much emotion, he hopes you get the message—you don’t.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to miss date night, in fact sometimes he doesn’t even come home during the weekdays. Nevermind it’s because he’s in the middle of a fight or beaten so badly that he stays at Starlabs—you’re worried, feelings with insecurity and doubt rise in you because he hasn’t been answering his phone.

Boyfriend! Barry whose relationship starts to slowly crumble. You’re still present but it’s like there’s this wall suddenly blocking him from reaching you. You’re distant and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes these days. Every time he touches you, you brush away so subtlety he would have missed it if he wasn’t so engrossed in you.

Boyfriend! Barry who still lies when you start to ask questions, deflecting them with answers that further puts a dent in the relationship. Questions turn to arguments, arguments turn to sleeping in separate rooms.

Boyfriend! Barry who can’t say he didn’t know where it started to go wrong but he does. He just thought he could make it work, he needs it to work with you. He needs you. Whether you know it or not, you’re his lighting rod.

Barry stares at the door handle to your shared apartment, stomach twisted in knots at where the stage of your relationship has gotten. He hasn’t thought that he’d ever be coming home to a full house yet it feels so empty without you beside him.

He unlocks the door and turns the handle to open, a rush of cold air hits his face. Feels just like the cold shoulder you’re given him. All because he couldn’t out right and tell you he was The Flash.

He locks the door behind him, his body moving instinctively to the bedroom. He wanted to make sure you were alright—his whole reasoning is to make sure you’re always alright.

But you weren’t alright. He wasn’t alright. You weren’t talking like you both used to and it was literally killing him inside. Maybe there was a little fear in telling you who he was. Everyone else is accepting of it, what if you weren’t?

From where he’s standing, outside your door, listening to any sign that your home and not where you thought he might be, he realizes either way this ends, there’s a chance you could leave him. So why does it matter hiding it now?

Boyfriend! Barry who dressed as the Flash surprises you by suddenly standing in your shared bedroom. You’re both amazed and shocked as you cling to your book. How is the Flash in your room—How does he know where you live!?

Boyfriend! Barry whose heart is beating fast even for his normal standards. This is the closest he’s been to you in a week. You’re still has stunning as the first day he’s seen you. But he has to focus. He’s not here to admire you. He has to patch this hole in the relationship or completely destroy it all together.

Boyfriend! Barry who uses his voice change at first, tells you how he really feels. That he’s a hero, risking his life for the city, fighting meta-humans. It’s a dangerous job, but it’s even more dangerous for the people he loves.

Boyfriend! Barry who voice cracks as he talks about you without directly tell you it’s about you. Goes on and on how he wasted his whole life, despite still being friends, on someone else and when he finally finds someone he loves, he tries to protect them the only way he knows how. But his protection is what’s tearing them apart.

Barry reverts back to his normal voice before stepping out the darkness, “I thought I could juggle both lives without you ever getting involved. I thought I had it handled and we can live our life just like everyone else. But I was wrong. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” He pulls his mask off, reveling your boyfriend, “From now, there is no more secrets between us. I miss you, baby.”

Boyfriend! Barry who waits with batted breath looking at your blank face, watching you get up from the bed and walk over to him. Reaching a hand out, you touch his suit, tracing his symbol.

Boyfriend! Barry who confirms with words that he’s the Flash after you ask him if this was what he’s been doing when he’s not with you, when he doesn’t answer your calls or leaves suddenly during a date.

Boyfriend! Barry who feels the same relief you do when you say, “Thank God”, and drop your head on his chest, hugging him close. He returns your hug, if not, more bone crushing than yours. Thank God indeed, he really loves you.

Boyfriend! Barry who almost gave away his secret the first time you make-out. You’ve kissed multiple times before but never had you sat in his lap, pushing your chest against his, and grind down on his growing erection. There was so much stimulation, it was overwhelming. He’s lucky you were so horny to accept his explanation of an intense shiver and not him vibrating.

Boyfriend! Barry who curses and thanks the lucky bastard who taught you how to give head before him. The first time you went down on him, it was utterly filthy, he was the one embarrassed. But he couldn’t look away. Your small hand barely reaching round him made him throb, you can feel his excitement on your tongue when you pull back to give the underside of his head some attention, before slobbering back down his cock again.

Boyfriend! Barry who groans loudly the first time he bottomed out inside you. So wet yet tight, entry was easy, your hole was practically sucking him in. It made it difficult for him to think straight inside your warmth. He’s surprised himself he hasn’t came from that alone. He was so painfully hard, the head didn’t even make him go down.

Boyfriend! Barry whose favorite part of your body is your legs and thighs. Doesn’t matter if they’re thin, thick, toned or fatty. The first place he always grabs is your thighs, gliding his hands up and down your legs so slowly it’s ticklish. Stop laughing, he’s trying to map every inch of you into his memory.

Boyfriend! Barry who prefers slow sex over quick sex. It’s the one thing he doesn’t want to rush, taking his time making you squirm and beg for him to give you more. You’re so pretty lying there, how can anyone ever want to stop? He ends up overstimulating himself and you, orgasm after orgasm.

Boyfriend! Barry who favorite positions are cowgirl and missionary. Anything that lets him see your face or feel you closer. He bites his lips bloody watching your breast bounce up and down when he decides to pick up speed or feeling them violently against his chest as he lays on top of you.

Boyfriend! Barry who will wake you up with head. He’s no stranger to seeing you in his dreams. It’s only fair he makes you feel as good as you’ve made him. It’s like he’s making out to your pussy, the way he laps at your soon to be puffy folds and suckle on your growing clit. He pulls an orgasm out of you, successfully waking you up. Ask him why, he’ll say he missed you while you slept.

Boyfriend! Barry who found out you have a thing for him in uniform, that while he’s still adrenaline rushed after dealing with Metas, he finds you and fucks you on the closest surface nearby. He’s rougher, faster, filling your hole with his cock, angling it just right it has you moaning in unison at you clenching down on him and your coming in no time at all.

Boyfriend! Barry who doesn’t think he’s good at dirty talk but the way he praises you and basically announces the way he worships everything about you in bed has you spreading your legs wider as if he did say the filthiest line on earth.

Boyfriend! Barry who becomes way into roleplaying the hero who saves you from an evil villain. Don’t you worry, he’ll protect you—no thanks necessary, it’s his job. But if you insist… after all, how can he to reject the way you kneel in front of him, doe eyes blinking up at him seductively and rubbing him to full hardness? Under the suit, he’s still just a man.

533 notes · View notes

lizzy019 · 3 months ago

Text

𝒲𝑒'𝓇𝑒 𝒰𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈.

Sub!Johnny Cade x Soft Dom!Fem!Reader

cw -> best friends to lovers trope lol, masturbation, underweight mentioning (Johnny), panty smelling :((, voice kink?, dub-con, cunnilingus, THIS GIRL STROKES HIS COCK! (yes pls on my knees)

Word Count -> 3.9K

I LOVE THIS WHAT

Consider your friendship to be a little too closely knit together.

Johnny spent long, consecutive hours at your place, often being the reason why your food and snacks were gone. You couldn’t blame the poor teenager, his family wasn’t ideal, but at least yours could afford food.

By the time you two were done hanging out in your living room, watching some random show that you two eventually got bored of, you found yourself serving him whatever leftovers you had in the fridge. It wasn’t much, but you knew damn well that Johnny was the most un-picky dude ever to exist. He’d eat rat poisoning if he didn’t know it was rat poisoning.

But you couldn’t help but feed him whatever he wanted because you knew he’d like himself with more meat on his bones and less bruises on his back. You couldn’t control what his parents did, but you sure could offer him the pleasure of eating a proper, healthier meal than takeout.

So now it was just you and Johnny sitting at your dining room table under the dim but soft light from over your head with two ceramic dishes filled with warm food in front of your torsos. It had a slightly concerned but slightly adorning expression as you watched Johnny eat with such vigour. You were concerned because it seemed like he hadn't eaten since the dawn of time, but it warmed your heart knowing you were giving him something he couldn’t access often.

“Slow down, you’ll choke yourself and I don’t have room to finish your meal.” You chided softly, smiling when you saw the tiniest pink flush engender onto his cheeks.

Those shy brown eyes that could make anyone like him, he just seemed so sweet on the outside. “Hey, I’m hungry and I’m gonna eat! Plus, it’s not like I haven’t been to the hospital before, they’ll know me for sure.” Johnny muttered, slowing his eating pace to a reasonable speed.

Ah right, the church incident.

Johnny probably hated how his back and shoulders looked now too, and with all that physio? You felt a little sympathy for him.

Your plates were soon empty after a decent chunk of time, and you pushed him a napkin to clean the mess from around his mouth with a kind smile. It wasn’t to be rude, as you’ve learned that being rude towards Johnny chips away at your friendship.

He takes it graciously while you scoop the dirtied dishes into your hands for cleaning. But after a second or two, you left the dishes in the sink. They could be cleaned later, and it was already somewhat late. So the ceramic plates coated in a sheen of leftover food residue were left in the sink while you tidied up the kitchen to appease your parents’ expectations.

Johnny just watched you, eyes soft and the lovely brown irises being held by the sockets trailing your movements to exact perfection. Why did you have to be so elegant with how you moved, so effortless and perfectly postured? Poor boy was swooning.

“Alright, do you wanna go get ready for bed? We don’t really have a guest room or anywhere for you to rest, but you can take my bed while I take my parents’ bed?” You offered politely, that sweet benevolence lingering in your tone while you led him down the corridors of your home.

Pictures and paintings littering the walls of the hall, the occasional piece of work that caught Johnny’s attention until you opened a door leading to your bedroom. It reeked of your scent, something that had his insides tingling out of joy. He got to sleep in your room? Fuck yeah!

“Y-yeah, I can stay here for the night. Sorry for.. bargin’ into your home so quick, I just needed somewhere to stay and Dal was drunk outta his mind.” Johnny muttered softly, walking into your room with caution while he looked around.

Clothes scattered all over the floor, the countertops somewhat messy except for the desk you seem to barely use. Your bed, unkempt but oh so cozy looking, even the curtains which were halfway closed from rushing. Shoes just chucked about anywhere there was room, a bra littered near your hamper which he could only assume was you trying to take it off late at night before heading to bed.

But he could smell you everywhere in this room, and it sent his senses ablaze.

“That’s alright, Dally does tend to have some poor habits. Anyway, I’ll be in the shower tidying myself up, you holler if you need anythin’, y’hear?” You smiled wide, toothy grin making him smile too.

Johnny nodded, watching you leave and close the door behind you. Your soft pitter-pattering footsteps that trailed down the halls until you closed another door which he presumed was the bathroom door.

The hardening sensation being squeezed within the confines of his denim pants was getting hard to ignore, but he felt so wrong for it. But good lord, he could smell it. Smell you. The redolent, fragrant smell of you that seemed to linger no matter where he stuck his nose just drove him up the wall to pure heaven.

Meanwhile, you were just having yourself a warm shower, washing off the grime from today as well as the bit of grease you used to slick your hair out. That took the most time, you had to scrub with such authority that you were sure you had lost enough hair to re-fur a hairless cat.

The soft soap you used was being lathered onto your skin, cleansing it and replenishing what it had lost during the day. You couldn’t lie, night showers were some of the best showers after a long day.

It didn’t take long for you to finish washing your body before you hopped out of the shower to dry off. The towel now warm from the steamy, hot shower was practically a cherry on top when you patted yourself dry with it. All the little uneven droplets being soaked up by the towel’s fabric to leave you dry and soft afterward.

Johnny was hiding away in your room, stripped down only with his boxers while his hand greedily pumped at his cock, a hand grasping at the pair of panties he managed to snag from your room and stuffing them at his face to get a whiff of what your pretty cunny smelled like. He felt so wrong for doing this, he was your best friend!

Johnny instantly stopped when he heard the soft tip-taps of your feet trudging towards your room, and he used the blankets to half cover himself so his boner wouldn’t be too prominent or easy to see. He also stuffed the underwear beside his thigh away from view before muttering a medium decibel, “Come in.”

You did just that, scurrying yourself into your room you found Johnny relaxing in while you scavenged your closet for proper night clothes such as a pyjama or even an oversized shirt with some shorts. Poor Johnny was just about to go insane when he saw you bend over, the sweet sight of your ass peeking through to his line of sight.

You had to have been tempting him, right? Right?

Once you had selected what you planned on wearing for the night, you looked back over in his direction to properly wish him a good night and good dreams until you paused to look at him further.

His ribcage was in full view, the bones prominent but you couldn’t find it in you to be disgusted or revolted by the sight. The soft brown skin of his, perfect in its glory asides the bruising and scarring which you’d come to understand was his insecurity. But he seemed tense, almost fearful and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“Johnnycakes? Are you okay? You look stiff, is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, innocently.

How was he not supposed to nut to just that benevolent tone you held?

Johnny gave a hesitant nod, shooting one of his sweet grins that displayed his teeth to you. You could only smile back, finding his little radiant expression to mirror onto yourself and make you do the same. But it was late, you shouldn’t stay up for chit-chatting.

“Alright, you know where I am if you need me, right? Down the hall, last room. Knock if something’s wrong.” You hummed, scampering off with your clothes in hand.

The soft click of the door when it closed rang through the silence, emitting a pitch that resonated and lingered far longer than it had to, followed by the tippy-taps of your feet against the floorboards as you rushed to your parents’ room.

Finally!

He dug his hand back under the blanket, finding his hardened cock growing a bit flaccid, and he frowned. Poor Johnny had a good rhythm going too! He fisted his cock once again, pumping mercilessly as the echoes of your voice from that simple moment when you waltzed your way in.

It wasn’t long until he was fighting himself to not make any sounds, but he began to lose his control as soon as he gained it when the muscles surrounding the base of his cock began to twitch and tighten to signal his release was upcoming.

The dim lights from the midnight blue sky shone through your half open bedroom curtains, pushing past the glass to shine into the room Johnny sat in. This was all the light he needed to see the pair of panties in his hand, and that dirty, filthy mind of his began to simply picture you in them and nothing more.

The lovely shape of your body, its colour and form, the little markings that made you so individual and unique. Perfect set of tits, nicest ass that looked just about sculpted by angels. You were just so perfect, how could he not want you? How could he not want to have you?

Meanwhile, you were sitting with a disgusted look on your face as you heard the soft but audible noises Johnny was making from down the hall, but once you heard your name tumble from his lips, everything seemed to fade into a realization which led to hope. Did he like you like that too?

Soon enough, your own hand drifted to the soft pair of lips being freed from the confines of your panties, rubbing your unhardened clit with vigour. The tingling sensation burned in between your thighs, and you too found it hard to remain silent, but you managed. Johnny’s sounds from your room simply added fire to the ever growing flame building within your lower stomach.

Poor Johnny was clawing at the fabrics of your bed’s sheets, gasping and heaving while soft whimpers and groans seemed to slip his closed, pursed lips. It aggravated him, but he still thought you were asleep and he didn’t wish to wake you.

Boy, was he wrong.

By the time Johnny had set off his load onto whatever fabric you had around —which you couldn’t bear to think was now stained by his cum—, you hobbled your uneasy legs out of bed and down the long corridors of your home. Your steps were as silent as you could make them, but the skin on the soles of your feet now warm from staying under the blanket made the softest sticky sound that alerted Johnny.

He sat upright in a flurry of panic, inevitably settling on stuffing himself under your blankets when he heard the door slowly creak open. Maybe you’d leave?

“Johnny?” Your whispery tone got his focus, even though he tried hard not to shuffle or move around to alert you. “Johnny, are you awake?” You tried again.

When you finally thought that he was asleep and wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, you hobbled yourself beside him under the blankets and tenderly rubbed at his back. Your nimble fingers grazed the skin of the burn scars and bruises oh so gently, his heart filling with warmth that made blood pump down in between his thighs.

You were oblivious to it, moving yourself to use his thigh as something to grind against for purchase and friction. It was selfish, it was improper, but you needed it. Lord, you could feel yourself soaking his boxers from some simple grinding against him.

Poor Johnny didn’t know how to tell you he was awake, and in all honesty, maybe he shouldn’t. If he told you, or moved even a bit, you’d become startled and embarrassed to the point where you couldn’t speak and you both knew of this well. You weren’t great at handling your embarrassment.

Those soft moans tumbling freely from your lips were like a tease, something to tempt him to see if he would break. His cock was chubbing up at your dulcet noises, and he didn’t know whether they were somewhat soothing or a bit too erotic for his liking. Regardless, he tried to subtly move his hand to that aching spot between his legs for release.

You assumed his movement was involuntary like any person would do in their sleep. Adjustments to get comfortable weren’t uncommon, so you paid no mind to it and just kept at it. Surely you had stained the hem of his boxers with your arousal juices. But you weren’t focused on that!

But it wasn’t until the movements became consistent and they weren’t your own that you began to grow nervous. Had you made him uncomfortable? Was something hurting him? Maybe he had woken up? Oh, that thought sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You were scared that he had woken up and had gotten all flustered, maybe even trying to move away with the inability to wriggle you off.

So tentatively, you moved your weight off of his body, using what little arm strength you had in you at the moment to see what was happening below you. Johnny stopped almost instantly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just jacking off to the way you were using his body. Would this be considered non-consensual? No, he liked it very much, so why were you hesitating on continuing?

“Johnny, I know you’re awake. Did I bother you? ‘M sorry, Johnnycakes, jus’ needed you..” You hummed, nuzzling your cheek to his boney shoulder to feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of his tanned skin. “Oh, but what’ll the others think?”

When you jostled him to show you knew he wasn’t asleep, Johnny allowed himself to turn over to face you and sighed happily. There you were, all pretty with your embarrassed pink cheeks and your pouty expression. Did you even understand how gorgeous you were to him? Even when he first met you, he swore you were sent from the heavens.

“Sugar, don’t worry ‘bout the others. Dal’s secretly been tellin’ Two that we were a thing anyway. I don’t mind it, would your family be okay with it?” His serene voice that wafted tobacco to your nose had confirmed just about everything you were thinking. So he liked you back, and the glances at your breasts during visits wasn’t just because he couldn’t make eye contact with you.

“I don’t care what my parents say, but your parents.. what’ll they do to you if they find out? You know that keepin’ it a secret won’t do us any good.” You murmured, a hand of yours gently holding his hip and caressing the skin while tracing the outline of protruding bone.

That had Johnny’s eyes forming hearts. Did you really think ahead of everything just to make sure he was gonna be alright? Good lord, he knew he was making the right choice.

“Ah, what’s a couple more bruises? I’ll be able to ditch them eventually, maybe move somewhere with you. How ‘bout that? We’d move far away from Tulsa, maybe somewhere warmer. No more Socs, no more fights, hell, I’d love to get rid of my cigs. I hate my teeth all yellow.” Johnny hummed at the thought of doing everything he listed off before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

It started intimately, just two idiots mindlessly kissing with smiles mashed together while fingers entangled into each other’s hair. Soft and meaningful, purposeful movements that were well thought out and calculated until Johnny moved his hips to show you what you had started. That hardening length slick with some pre-cum, and you moved your hand down to grip it and stroke it while adjusting.

Your body was now hovering over his, lips still intertwined while you wriggled off whatever clothes acted as a burden to what you were seeking. The hindrances you considered fabric to sheath your body were off of you in mere seconds, your body pulling away from his to throw your shirt off. Soon, your mouth found purchase against the soft muscle of his neck, desperately suckling some little hickeys into his flesh.

Painless bruises that expressed your affection. What was more beautiful than that?

The soft little squeaks of moans that tumbled freely from Johnny’s pretty mouth just egged you on. Your hand fisting his cock mercilessly, milking him for all he’s got while showering him in soft praises. He deserved this kind of love, soft and sweet with just enough roughness to have you craving more.

“Yeah, baby? Feels good? You can take it, you got it.” You lulled him, pressing innocent kisses to wherever you could reach your lips, listening to the sheets rustle beneath you as Johnny wiggled around.

Sprawled out while desperately grasping the blankets and sheets below him, he found himself teetering off of that perfect ledge of ecstasy that was exposed to him. He was so close to that pleasurable place of heaven on Earth, and he was worried you wouldn’t let him cum. He hated edging.

But you didn’t. Your expression seemed to anticipate his climax, and that further had the coil connecting his lower stomach and the base of his cock to tighten and tighten until he simply couldn’t take it.

A cry that was so obviously forced to be squeezed quiet had alerted you just a few seconds before his climax that he was cumming. Sure enough, his pretty, pearly cum trickled down from his urethra and onto your soft skin, the liquid creating a thin sheen over your flesh.

The aftershocks of his body instantly made you become more sweet, hands resting on either side of his waist while gently caressing the warmed brown skin of his. Poor Johnny was rattling more than a damn Mexican maraca. Shudders made him all electric, but he soon found your hands gently holding his hips, and that grounded him.

“W-wait, I don’t think I can go again, sugar. Maybe.. get on toppa me?” He asked so sweetly, so pleasantly as if you’d say no.

You were practically stunned speechless at his words, pondering for a moment before inevitably answering his plea. Johnny adjusted instantly when he saw the soft nod of your head, and you could only giggle at his ecstatic expression. Happy, just like how he deserved to feel.

Your legs were quickly situated over his head, and with nervous hands, you combed through the soft locks on his scalp. Ungreased and silky, it soothed you enough.

“What if I’m heavy? I don’t wanna crush you.” You smiled shyly, and Johnny simply shrugged while caressing your hamstrings with tender fingers. For a greaser, you still questioned how his fingers were delicate and smooth.

“Then I’d die happy. C’mon, it’ll be okay. How ‘bout this? If you hurt me at all, I’ll swat your legs lightly.” He offered, charming you with that devilishly sweet glint in his doe brown eyes.

You could only nod after he spoke, and you hesitantly lowered yourself onto his awaiting mouth. Nervousness caused your fingers to jitter sporadically, but you pushed through before sitting yourself onto his face. The warmth of his tongue caused a rattle to zoom up your spine like a racecar on a speedway, electrifying you.

The moans that were pulled from you just made Johnny all the more eager to please you, and he began to greedily feed off of your sweet nectar. The tangy taste of your juices were simply too addictive, could you even blame him? He didn’t know which he preferred, nicotine or your delicious wetness.

You were beginning to grind on his face, his nose nudging your clit every time you missed or got too careless. The mess of your arousal was smudging onto his chin and upper lip, but you were too dazed out to really notice anyway. Poor Johnny was about to bust again from your desperation to get a climax, but he knew cumming twice was enough for him.

His tongue slurped up any drops your cunny managed to spurt out for him, the overstimulation of your labia and clit being teased had your toes curling. You were becoming sheen with sweat, but you didn’t cease being quiet. Johnny was simply slurping you up like a snack, and you took it.

The coil within your lower abdomen threatened to snap, but you couldn’t sum up the strength to get off of his mouth to save him from mess. His hands groping your ass or caressing your hammies didn’t seem to let up either, in fact encouraging you to continue.

Johnny’s tongue kept hitting all the ooey gooey spots inside of you that set all the nerves in your body ablaze, and it wasn’t long until you were teetering over the thin line of release.

“Johnny! Johnny- I’m gonna cum..! Baby, I-” Your orgasm had cut you off, your legs seizing and stopping all their movements while you thrashed about from the sheer intensity of whatever pleasure Johnny gave you.

Poor boy’s face was squished to mush, but he was so happy.

Soon, you found yourself coming back to reality, your control over your legs and you used this newfound control to get off of his face. The last thing you wanted was to crush him or suffocate him!

When you got yourself seated beside him, legs still a bit shaky, Johnny licked off whatever fluid you managed to spunk onto his face with a gleeful smile. How gross! But.. somewhat hot too. Johnny grinned at you, his teeth all crooked but so sweet on his face.

“Feel good, sugar?” He asked you, smiling all happy and pridefully. Making you cum was a big deal for him!

You chuckled softly to yourself at his words, they were suave in how he spoke. You couldn’t admit to him that it was probably the best head you’ve ever received, his ego would get too overinflated and the gang already had an overconfident Dally.

“Yes, it felt good. Thank you.” You smiled, tucking yourself under the warm blankets of your own mattress. The duvet covers felt nice on your burning skin, even if it was a bit too hot for them.

Johnny beamed, getting under the blankets with you as well before throwing his lanky arms around you. It scared you for a second as it was unexpected, but you laughed and wholeheartedly accepted his hug. Warm arms encased you, and yours wrapped around him in return.

Giggles were shared and kisses were peppered all around, even some tickles to make everything seem more lively. Johnny also wanted you to feel like you weren’t just there for some sex and nothing more.

God, you were so fucking in love.

Shoutouts to:

@outsidersstuff16 @raycravens116 @johnnycadesslut @johnnycadesmuse @johnnycakesswitch

#the outsiders smut #x reader #smut #johnny cade smut #johnny cade #johnny cade x reader #johnny cake #johnny cade the outsiders #johnny cade x y/n

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princessbrunette · 10 months ago

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what do we think rafe would be like during a road-trip?

˙✧˖° 🐏 ⋆｡˚꩜ 🪽

i don’t think you’d call him by his name the whole trip. it’s just dad. bc that’s exactly how he acts >:(

u have been begginggg for an actual roadtrip instead of just taking the jet or something so he finally obliges n hires out this top of the line camper van <33 he thinks it’ll be good for him ,, getting away from everyone and everything for a while to spend time on the road with his girl !!

does his fair share of complaining, esp at first — saying stuff like “jesus, what is this… got me actin’ like… a pogue or something.” but he won’t tolerate any complaints from u, giving your thigh a little smack n saying “hey, brat — m’doin’ all this fuckin’ driving for you. least you could do is be grateful. a’ight? now have a nap. s’not like i’m goin’ anywhere.”

he got one of those trucks that have three front seats so that you can sit right up next to his side n rest with your cheek on his arm, or lay curled across the two seats at his side. no matter how grumpy he is, he’ll put a gentle hand across you when you’re sleeping whenever he makes a hard brake so you don’t go sliding out the seat <33

definitely a sucker for road head, letting you lazily suckle at his tip whilst he steers on the open road, humming in pleasure when you take him further. “fuck, could get used to this shit baby. gonna wanna fuck that mouth everytime i drive from now on.”

very very serious about directions n tourist stops n maps, constantly checking over everything with a frown, patting his pockets down to make sure he’s got everything. he’ll tug you along to walk at his speed, buy you icecream to keep you quiet n obedient, dusting down your dress for you when you sleepily stumble along beside him after lunch, your boyfriend ridding of the crumbs that reside on you.

whenever you cross over into a new state he’s flashing that expensive smile, charming the officers who wanna search the van. not that there’s anything bad in there, just that he thinks it’s a waste of time to get searched. he doesn’t even bat an eyelid when you sleepily call him ‘dad’ infront of the officers, but the uniformed men certainly give you a bizarre look.

the two of you curl up in the pull out camper van bed each night because rafe’s not staying in some dirty motel ! if you get all restless at night, unable to sleep — rafe will sigh n manhandle your sleepy body til your knees are pressed to your chest and the bed is creaking, van rocking. “even now i gotta fuck the energy outta you, huh? better get some sleep after this kid, or you’ll be a fucking nightmare tomorrow i—i know it. don’t want that, do we? remember how dad got all mean on you today? we don’t need any of that tomorrow, alright?”

˙✧˖° 🐏 ⋆｡˚꩜ 🪽

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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megumiluvv · 4 months ago

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Choso’s not the biggest fan of driving. He barely passed the test to get his license, why would he do something he’s not confident in? But Yuji begged him to drive to some museum, so Choso asked if you’d tag along. Luckily for him, you offered to drive.

He’s sitting in the passenger seat, manning the aux for music for the road trip, and Yuji is sat in the back eating goldfish and pointing things out.

“I spy with my little eye somethingggg… pink!” The boy says for the fifth time in thirty minutes. Choso groans but you chime in, still cheery and entertaining Yuji.

He doesn’t know how you can so effortlessly pretend to think, a cute little grin quirking into your soft-looking lips, a small hum leaving your throat, eyes focused on the road but squinting enough to show your joy, you’re just so perfect.

“Hmmm, is itttt… your hair?”

The boy giggles. “Yup!! Your turn!”

“Hmm, I spy with my little eye…”

You look around for something easy but still a little difficult for the boy. You look at Choso, eyes tracing his piercings, his always-tired eyes, his hair; all with the occasional glances at the road to make sure you’re not speeding or going off-road. Your eyes eventually settle onto his purple shirt.

“Somethinggg… purple.”

“Ummm…” Yuji looks around to outside of the car. “I don’t see any purple… oh wait! That car!”

“Nope, not the car.”

“Ummmm… my shoelaces!”

“Nope.” You giggle. Choso finally piped up.

“My shirt?”

“Yes!” You smile. “Your turn, Choso.”

You’ve been in the car for a couple hours and he’s wondering if the gps knows where it’s going, until he finally sees the museum.

“I spy something tall.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘with my little eye’ Choso!” Yuji pouts.

“Mkay, but I still see something tall.” You smile at the slight sass Choso gives the little boy.

Yuji looks out the window and gasps excitedly. “The museum!!”

“Good find, Choso. Thought I’d run outta gas…” You mutter the last part to yourself as you park and help Yuji out of the car.

“I’m gonna see a real dinosaur fossil!”

“I bet. Here, hold hands.” You hold your hand out to the pink-haired boy and he happily holds your pinky and ring finger, doing the same to Choso on his other side.

The three of you walk into the museum, ready to follow Yuji as he explores.

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

Masterlist

#short because I didn’t have much motivation sorry!!#part two planned dw #brothers babysitter au #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso #choso kamo #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso kamo #kamo choso

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platinumbabydoll · 4 months ago

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"But I don't know how"

[-summary ; Connie and y/n have been friends from a long time shes never had a boyfriend but cant fix a funny feeling she gets all the time so Connie helps]

y/n wines not being able to fix the "weird" feeling she kept getting for the past couple of weeks she tired everything masterbating,rubbing her rose she attempted to finger herself but her chubby fingers just couldn't seem to fit she was lost

ring~ring~

she looks her to her phone seeing Connie's name popping up on her phone as he called her

hello?

hey mama I'm omw I wanna see you

okay con see you soon

As soon as the call ended she jumped outta her bed to change her soaked panties and to put on some pj shorts and fix her bed so he doesn't suspect of anything unusual

~knock knock knock~

she walks over to the front door and lets him, he wraps his arms around my plush body I missed you mama I missed you too con I say as I run my hand over his head he looks me dead in the eyes that makes my heart pang lets watch a movie mama okay we lay on the couch and put on after the movie that we watch atleast 4 times a month

as she lays on the couch Connie couldn't help but to notice her clench her thighs to the sexual scene of Hardin and tessa i notice that same feeling that I've been trying my hardest to get rid of or "Fix" I cant help to squeeze my thighs I wish that was me

y/n~

Hm? I turn and look at con

whats on ur mind mama? he grabs my inner thigh

n-nothing I try not to react to him grabbing my inner thigh I could feel myself getting wetter n wetter by the second

you're lieing to me tho quit fuckin playing y/n

b-but I'm not he grips my thigh tighter

quit fuckin playing ma I seen u clenching yo thighs lemme help you

connie I've tried but I don't know how he looks at me funny wdym you don't know how?

ive tried to play with myself but I cant ever fix the problem or make myself cum he looks at me and smirks I bet I could teach u

he starts to pull the pj shorts on off of me and gets inbetween my thighs my legs sitting on either side of his waist you gon let me take care of u mama? mhm yes con he brings his hands up my shirt uncovering my big tummy and boobs he pulls the shirt off andd unclips my bra he cups them so pretty mama he leave marks and hickeys on my Breast I whimper feeling his mouth around my nipple mhm lemme hear you he goes up to my neck and kisses it while he squeezes my boobs I feel myself getting wetter he looks into my eyes as he puts a hand in my underwear rubbing my clit moans that's it mama i squeeze his other forearm pa please moans please what princess? touch me moans yes mam he pulls down my underwear and I close my legs slightly feeling a little self conscious he forcefully opens my legs nuh uh lemme see that pretty pussy mama don't hide her he sticks 2 fingers into me she's so wet mama he moves them at a perfect speed I grips the blanket on the couch and moan his name c-connie ugh faster he moves them faster and puts his head next to my ear is this what u wanted hm? all I do is nod and continue to moan use ur words mama he speeds up y-yes Connie mhm its what I wanted good girl so pretty for me u gonna cum for me i feel myself cum all over his finger it was a feeling I couldn't shake there u go princess he kisses my inner neck

lets get you cleaned up~

The end~ if you guys have any request please send them orrr if u wanna pt.2 lmk

#connie x black y/n #connie x reader #connie springer x chubby reader #connie x black reader #connie x plus size #connie springer #aot x black reader #connie smut #plus size reader #female reader

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mirangel · 1 year ago

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Yahoo~ if your request is closed please ignore this, i like your writing a lot＼⁠(⁠°⁠o⁠°⁠)⁠／ , can you write smut Where M!reader stuck in the wall (like between walls, ass out) and sampo coincidentally walks across the reader and it's feels like his dream come true, he immediately took this chance and fucks the outta of reader.if you want, makes sampo manages to convince Gepard to come along, maybe noncon and breeding? Thank you!

stuck in a wall with sampo and gepard !

cw: noncon, stuck in the wall, anal fingering, anal sex, voyeurism, m!reader

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

you have absolutely no idea how long sampo has been waiting for this moment to occur. ever since he saw that broken wall in belobog, of course he had to hint that there’s a suspicious deal there, and of course your sense of justice prevented you from ignoring it, you had to investigate. unfortunately for you, you got stuck in the wall that sampo told you that you needed to bypass in order to intercept the deal.

of course, he was right around the corner waiting for you, and he crosses over, feigning shock at the sight of your ass greeting him. “my! what happened to you?” unbeknownst to you, he wears a grin of the schemer he is. of course, you can’t help but demand to be freed, that he set you up. “of course i can help, but for a price.”

he tugs down your pants, just enough for your ass to show. “i know what i’m doing, treasure. let me do my thing.” sampo tries to reassure, and you felt cold liquid flowing between your ass cheeks. he fingers your ass with his pointer and middle finger, ignoring your pleas for mercy and honing on your moans instead, his grin growing wider with each adorable reaction you make.

“what the— sampo koski?!” another voice rang, this time of surprise and embarrassment. “captain!” sampo cheers, “just in time to see my little present for you. i know how much you adore him after all.” but gepard backs away, reluctant to accept this “present” when he of all people should have morals.

“if you don’t want to accept, you can watch of course.” gepard lets out a sigh, and you hear footsteps coming closer before his clothes shift, leaning against the wall. sampo wastes no time to fuck you, coaxing loud moans to erupt from you while he makes direct eye contact with gepard the entire time.

gepard can’t stop thinking about how he would treat you better than sampo would, how he’d lower your pants all the way, jerking off your cock while he fucks you gentle and slowly, unlike sampo’s rough and fast speed. his pants tighten with arousal, but he refuses to move from the wall, his eyes trained on how your ass jiggles when sampo’s hips collide with you, his face reddening at how well sampo’s cock stretches you out.

maybe he should’ve accepted sampo’s little gift.

SORRY IF I DIDNT COOK AS HARD HERE. my mind has been all over the place it’s insane

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alwritey-aphrodite · 2 years ago

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Cruel Summer

no rules in breakable heaven

Pairing: Jaime Tartt x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ - smut(f receiving oral, other implied nonsense, cursing

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: clearly I’ve gotten caught up in the babygirl wave, my lovely wife @andr0medafallen helped me immensely and I love her. Also I’m just a slutty little virgin so I can’t be held accountable for any inaccuracies

Conversations are swirling around you, music is blasting from a building down the street, you’re keenly aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you need a goddamn break.

You loved spending time with Keeley, you really did, but it’s hot and muggy outside, and this is the fifth party you’d been to in the past week. Tonight, at least, is with the Richmond boys, and not some friend of a friend of Keeley’s where all you do is stand in the corner and drink by yourself. Keeley, ever the social butterfly, is off chatting with Rebecca and Leslie, giving you the opportunity to focus on not losing your mind.

It’s strange, to feel so simultaneously alive and asleep, and you could swear you can feel the air buzzing in your ears. You simultaneously want to go to bed and to stay awake for the rest of the night, it’s like your mind can’t figure out what it needs.

And then Jamie’s walking over to you and the world comes back into focus.

The two of you aren’t very close, connected mostly through your separate friendships with Keeley, but from what you’ve heard from her and from the internet, he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Though, there was a part of you that enjoyed his bad boy attitude, even when he was a bit of a dick.

Maybe you just had a thing for men who were emotionally unavailable.

“Want me to walk you home?” Jamie says after a few seconds of standing next to each other in silence, shocking you out of your silent appraisal of your surroundings.

“Huh?” Clearly, your brain-mouth connection is taking a while to get up to speed.

“You seem kinda out of it, I know you came with Keeley, figured I should ask if you wanted to leave.”

The kindness of his offer is a little shocking in the way it’s so purely sweet, and again, your brain seems a little slow on the draw.

“I’m alright, I can call a car in a bit,” you tell him, not wanting to drag him away from a fun night just because he saw you acting all mopey and uncomfortable.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind getting outta here,” and then it’s clear to you that his offer is simply an excuse for him to leave the party, and while your heart drops a little you can’t say you blame him.

“What the hell,” you respond anyway, finishing your drink before you turn to follow Jamie out of the party, stopping by Keeley to let her know you’re headed home.

The walk back to your place is mostly silent, the air hanging heavy and thick as you try to figure Jamie out. It’s clear that he’s changed from the first time you’d met him, back when he was only Keeley’s douchebag of a boyfriend, shortly before his stint on reality TV. Now, though, he seems different in some way that you can’t quite puzzle out.

“Wanna come up?” You offer, your heart and your brain in a heated argument over how awful and irresponsible of a decision that is.

“Nah, I’m alright,” he sticks his hands in his pockets and you try not to let your heart sink onto the ground with this cool-guy routine of his.

Still, you thank him for taking you home and head up to your apartment, flicking off your shoes and berating yourself for acting the way you did. Even though you’re an adult, and wanting to sleep with someone doesn’t make you a bad person, there’s a layer of guilt that hangs over your simple question, over your desires.

Maybe it’s because he’s Keeley’s ex, and even though she’s moved on and found her perfect match, girl code says you shouldn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s because as far as you know, he’s an awful person who would treat you like nothing. Or maybe it’s because he’s actually worked on himself and you’re going to self-sabotage anything good that could even possibly happen.

The guilt you taste at the back of your mouth doesn’t change the fact that you want him, though, so you throw a longing glance out your window and are surprised to see Jamie still standing on the street below. As quick as you can in your old building, you unlatch the window and push it open, sticking your head out.

“Change your mind?” You ask, a grin spreading on your face when Jamie jumps at the sound of your voice.

“That ok?” He throws back, looking a little bashful and so unfairly adorable that he makes you a little dizzy. You just nod in response, and he seems to get the message because he disappears from view and a few seconds later, there’s a knock at your door.

Briefly, you wonder if he ran up the stairs.

There’s a part of your brain that keeps screaming about how this is a bad idea, that come morning you’re going to regret this, but you do your best to ignore it as you close the door behind Jamie and press your lips to his. His hands find your waist, settling there with a firm grasp, and you hope you never need oxygen again.

It��s addicting, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, and you do your best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your mind that you’re never going to be able to move on from this and instead just enjoy yourself. Moving on autopilot, you find yourself at your bedroom door, and feeling lightheaded you pull away from Jamie and rest your forehead on his.

“Can I?” He breathes against your mouth, fingers grasping the bottom hem of your shirt. You nod enthusiastically, your nose brushing against his. Once your shirt is flung somewhere into the depths of your room, Jamie’s hands settle on your bare ribs.

Pushing every worry you have to the back of your brain, you follow Jamie’s lead and, with his help, pull his shirt over his head as he walks you back towards your bed. Obviously, you’d known he was fit, but seeing him so close, so open to your touch is a whole other feeling. You want to trace his entire body, his scars and bruises and tattoos, first with your hands and then with your mouth.

“This is just a one time thing, yeah?” Jamie asks as your hands settle onto his jaw, trying to bring him in for another kiss.

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, being the cool girl you know you’re meant to be even as you fantasize about hearing the stories behind his tattoos and spending mornings together.

It’s practically impossible for you to keep your hands off of him, every layer removed giving you more of his skin to explore. Jamie, though, seems just as greedy as you are, kissing and touching his way across your body. You feel alive, electric in ways you’ve never felt before. It’s as if every moment you spend with Jamie, he takes up more and more space in your brain, until he’s all you can think about.

Jamie, as he bites that sensitive spot underneath your jaw bone with a grin.

Jamie, as he trails kisses down the center of your body, from your sternum to your belly button.

Jamie, as he moves lower and lower, his hands resting on your inner thighs.

Jamie, he’s all you think about until you can’t think of anything, your mind shut off and your body rewired as you feel like you’re exploding from the inside out.

And then everything comes rushing back in, all the sounds and scents and feelings of your apartment, all the thoughts you’d tried to keep away. You still haven’t said anything, focusing on breathing and not floating away.

“You need water or something?” Jamie asks from his spot on the pillow next to you, watching as your breath continues to heave in and out of your chest.

“This is my place, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You retort once it feels as if your heart won’t escape your chest.

“There aren’t any rules about who gets water.” You watch as a smirk grows across his face, “Besides, you look like you need it more than me.”

Trying not to give in to his teasing, you hide your face in your hands and groan, “Maybe that means you should have been trying harder.” He shrugs, conceding before he slips off your bed and begins the hunt around for his clothes. You wish you could ask him to stay, even just for a few minutes longer, but instead you shrug on a large t-shirt and walk him to the door.

“See you around,” you offer as you lean in the doorway, Jamie making his way to the stairs.

“Yeah, sure, see ya.” And then you're left all alone again, your brain running wild within your skull, so you make your way back to your bed in the hopes that you can fall asleep and pretend you aren’t regretting all of your life decisions.

The next few times you see Jamie, the two of you talk sparingly, sticking mainly to waves across the room or slightly uncomfortable smiles. And it’s a shame, because you’ve found that you actually enjoy talking to Jamie, but now you’re not so certain you can handle yourself around him.

Even though you know Jamie’s not looking for a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what you’d be like together, if you’d even work out, because in your mind, what’s the point of trying if you know you’re going to fail? Why would you enter into a relationship with someone if you know it couldn’t possibly last?

“Hey,” a voice says from behind, shocking you out of your introspection. You jump, ready to scold whoever snuck up on you when you hear Jamie’s laughter, happy and loose.

“Jesus, Jamie, you scared me to death,” you tell him as his laughter dies down, eyes scanning for anyone watching your interactions. You know that no one cares, that people have casual relationships all the time, but you can’t help but feel like you’d be judged for doing the same.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice, from his eyes, from the way he’s holding himself, what he’s really asking you.

“I thought that was a one time thing?” You hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink and delighting in the way Jamie’s cheeks redden.

“What I meant was, it’s just a no-strings-attached thing.”

“I’m flattered,” you tell him, already turning to leave and planning your text to Keeley that you hadn’t felt well and called an Uber to leave early.

Instead of an Uber, though, you find yourself pressed up against Jamie’s car, his hands holding your waist and his tongue down your throat. As much as you loved the attention, you pulled away, placing a gentle hand on his cheek when he tried to follow.

“Someone could see,” you whisper against him, trying to keep an ear out for anyone else leaving the small party at Colin’s house. This seems to bring Jamie back to his senses, though, because he unlocks his car and slips inside, but only after he kisses you one last time.

The drive to his place is short, leaving the two of you sitting in his driveway, no sounds but the noises filtering in through the cracked windows. There’s something about this, about him, that just feels like summer, like late sleepless nights and days spent in bed.

Even though neither of you have spoken about it, you can tell that whatever relationship you have with Jamie ends with the summer. You know this is for the best, knowing that once training and games pick up again he’ll barely have time for friends, let alone any other kind of relationship, but you hate the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels like there’s an expiration date, some dark cloud looming over your sunny day, and it’s making it hard to enjoy the time you do have with Jamie.

You’d never say any of this to him, though, because you’re not even sure if you’re really friends, if this relationship you have is anything beyond physical. It’s not as though you sit around pining after Jamie Tartt all day, but you can’t help but feel left out whenever you see him with his actual friends, as if you’re missing something important about him. The two of you have a surface level connection, and you’re fine with that, you really are, it’s just hard not to get caught up in your own head.

Jamie, though, is doing his best to get rid of seemingly every thought you have, leaning over the center console to kiss you again. It’s cramped and a little awkward and you don’t have any room to move around, but you can’t stop. Eventually, the two of you break apart for long enough to stumble into Jamie’s house and then you’re being pushed backwards to his bedroom.

The realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever been to Jamie’s house, and you can’t help but look around his bedroom, taking in all of his choices in decorations and knick-knacks.

“That’s a pretty color,” you say absentmindedly, starting off into his room.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Jamie asks, pulling back from where he’d been sucking a mark onto your chest.

You can’t help but laugh, loud and unrestrained, as you run your fingers through the strands of hair hanging in Jamie’s eyes, giving them a gentle tug. Looking down after you catch your breath, you notice Jamie smiling at you and suddenly you feel too exposed, too open and you want to turn and run and never see him again but instead you use your light grip on his hair to pull him up for a kiss.

There’s a strange feeling deep in your stomach, one that you plan to ignore for as long as you can because it’s distracting you from Jamie. At first, you’d just thought it was the want filling your body, the urge to pull him impossibly close and feel him impossibly deep, but the feeling’s still there hours later as you lie boneless and sleepy.

Jamie’s off getting you some water, even though you never asked for any, and when he returns you’re dozing on his pillow, resisting the urge to snuggle under his sheets.

“You can just stay here tonight, if you want,” Jamie offers, sitting on the other side of the bed and staring off into space before quietly adding, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” you reply, thankful that you don’t have to get up and go searching for your clothes.

Instead, Jamie hands you the glass of water and a t-shirt, one that you gratefully slip on before getting under the covers. You fall asleep almost immediately, exhaustion spread throughout your entire body and mind, so you never know that Jamie lies awake almost the whole night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you up or think about how perfect you look while asleep next to him.

When you do wake up, it’s with the sun streaming through the windows and Jamie’s arm slung over your waist. The two of you are impossibly close, both sharing the same pillow despite the size of his bed. It pains you to notice that he’s incredibly adorable when he’s sleeping. Part of you wants to kiss him all over and wake him, but the other just wants to let him sleep forever, watching as he breathes.

Luckily, you don’t need to make that choice, as Jamie’s eyes flutter open and you can see when he realizes just how close the two of you are and he tries to play it smooth but he scoots back to the side he fell asleep on.

“Did you sleep alright?” He asks, and you’re more focused on the scratchy way his voice sounds than the actual question. You just nod, hoping that was the right answer and delighting when he smiles, all soft and sweet and just for you.

You need to leave, get out while you still can before you end up spending the whole day with Jamie, because you know if you stay for a second longer you’re never going to want to leave him. Most of your time together was spent sleeping, but it's already almost impossibly hard to leave him. While you still have your resolve, you slip out of his insanely comfortable bed and go hunting for your clothes. It kills you a little inside when Jamie doesn’t stop you.

“Want me to drive you?” He asks, sitting up and moving to get out of bed and you need to stop yourself from staring at his toned chest, at the shorts low on his hips.

“No, I can just walk, it’s a nice day,” you lie, having no idea what the weather was like but hoping that summer wouldn’t let you down. Jamie nods, settles back into bed, and you could swear your heart physically aches because none of this should be happening.

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but here you are not wanting to leave. You shouldn’t be staring at him, with his mussed hair and his tattoos on full display. You shouldn’t have any feelings for him besides physical attraction and the basic feelings of friendship, but you’re starting to worry about that feeling in your belly that just grows and grows every second you spend with Jamie.

“See you around,” you tell him, leaving as quickly as you can before you convince yourself to stay any longer. You wander around London, all turned around and trying to find your flat without thinking of Jamie, while Jamie sits at home and tries not to think of you.

The rest of your day is spent doing meaningless activities, chores and work you’d been putting off for weeks. You wash your sheets and clean your fridge and respond to emails, trying your hardest to keep your mind off Jamie. It’s impossible, and the second you find yourself distracted, your mind wanders right back to him. What you really need is to leave your house, find someplace with blasting music and bodies pressed impossibly close, somewhere that you’ll have no space to think of anything, let alone Jamie.

Lucky for you, Keeley stays busy, always having one event or another she needs to go to and she always lets you tag along. Tonight your mission is to stop thinking of Jamie, even if that doesn’t mean going home with someone else. Just for a few hours, you don’t need him consuming your every thought.

Unfortunately for you, Jamie is always welcome with Keeley and has the same exact plan as you.

The air inside the bar is stifling, as if there’s no air conditioning and no windows, just the thick summer heat. You notice Jamie almost immediately, though it would be impossible not to with his highlights and his beaming smile, like your own personal sun. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but wonder if he noticed you at all, if he thinks of you at all when you’re not together.

You’re two drinks deep and you can’t help but think about Jamie, about what he thinks of you. Are you really just someone to fuck, someone who’s attractive enough for him to sleep with you whenever he feels the urge?

You’re three drinks deep and you can’t help but wonder if you could ever be anything more to him, if he’d ever want that. It’s common knowledge that Jamie’s still a little hooked on Keeley, and who could blame him, but are you really just a distraction?

You’re four drinks deep and you can’t stop crying, the tears flowing like rivers as Keeley and Rebecca try their best to comfort you, to calm you down. Eventually, Rebecca calls you a car and Keeley waits with you, ready to leave and make sure you get home safely.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” you say through your sobs as you sit in the backseat on your way to your apartment, Keeley rubbing up and down your arms in a soothing manner.

“This isn’t about Jamie, is it?” She asks in that kind, understanding voice of hers and it only makes you cry harder.

“I think I love him and it fucking sucks.” Keeley’s hand moves to smooth over your hair as you lean against her, all the fight draining out of your body.

“Babe, just tell him.” You can’t help but shoot her a glare, one that she brushes off with a laugh, “What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t sleep with you anymore?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked to your core that Keeley knew about what the two of you had been doing and your heart breaks a little more because you feel like you’ve just betrayed one of your best friends. Keeley, though, gives you a supportive little squeeze, one that tells you that she isn’t mad at all.

That was one of your favorite things about Keeley, how supportive she is of all of the people she loves, no matter the situation. She’s wise beyond her years and is the kind of person who will go out and get whatever she wants through her own hard work and determination. Keeley is absolutely someone you need on your side, and it hits you just how thankful you are for her and all she does for you.

Here you are, sobbing over a boy, and Keeley does nothing but support you and try to help you calm down. She doesn’t look at you like you’re over-dramatic or crazy and instead is doing her best to fix whatever was making you feel this way.

“Clearly, this whole situation-ship is hurting you, and if he doesn’t want the same things as you, maybe it’s time to let it end,” she finishes with another loving squeeze, just as the car pulls up outside of your building.

The two of you slide out of the car, Keeley offering you her hand as she helps you up to your apartment and you’re left reeling by what she’s said. You didn’t even know you wanted something more until it hit you like a ton of bricks tonight, Jamie consuming your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You know Keeley’s right, that whatever you have going on is only going to hurt you in the long run, so you resolve to tell him everything the next time you see him.

Keeley’s wise words from the car and the glass of water she gave you before she left after confirming no less than ten times that you were okay have you sobering up rather quickly. You’re left feeling embarrassed and exhausted to the bone, wanting nothing more than to lay down in your bed and stay there for the next hundred years, but suddenly there’s a knock at your door and Jamie’s standing outside.

“Keeley let me in, hope that’s ok,” he tells you, seeming slightly uncomfortable and you briefly wonder if it’s because of your puffy eyes and slightly disheveled appearance, embarrassment coursing hot through your blood. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Jamie always keeps you on your toes, and though you know this isn’t a big deal, it warms your heart all the same. Jamie Tartt, drama queen footballer and prick reality star, is at your front door to see if you’re ok because you left a bar crying. You’d promised yourself that the next time you saw Jamie, you’d sit him down and talk about your feelings, vowing that you wouldn’t hide them anymore.

But here Jamie is, being all sweet and concerned, and that plan goes out the window. There’s just something about him that makes all the sense leave your body, so instead of having a conversation about your feelings you pull him down by his shoulders and kiss him.

It’s messy and desperate, and even though you’ve sobered up since leaving the bar, your head is spinning and your thoughts are starting to become consumed with Jamie. There’s a weight behind it this time, one that you’re sure the both of you are aware of, because Jamie’s hands are gripping your waist with a bruising force and you barely even pull away from him to breathe.

Both of you know something is going to change.

As you make your way to your bedroom, clothing is thrown down the hallway, a sock here and a shoe there, until you almost trip trying to remove your pants. Luckily for you, though, after what seemed like a miles long walk, you finally reached your bedroom door.

Jamie pushes you gently inside, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to breathe the same air, and he keeps pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it with a sound of surprise. Jamie just smiles, but it’s soft in a way that makes your insides melt and not the cocky smile he has whenever he scores a goal.

You scramble to sit up, to take your shirt off, but your brain shuts off when you see Jamie get on his knees in front of you. More gently than you ever could have imagined, he tugs on the hem of your pants, bringing them down your hips until you need to push off of the bed to get them down the rest of the way. He continues to pull until they slip free of your feet, and by the time he’s standing again you’re throwing yourself upward to kiss him.

There’s just something about him that makes you want to be near him all the time, like a moth to the flame. It doesn’t feel self destructive though, and that’s what scares you. It scares you that you might be hurting yourself without knowing but it scares you more that this might not hurt you at all.

It’s always a little shocking to you just how gentle Jamie is, the soft way he cradles your jaw when he kisses you and the way he runs his hands up and down your back when he can tell everything is starting to get overwhelming. Of course, he can be plenty rough and you have the bite marks on your thighs and the hickeys on your chest to prove it, but it seems like it’s in his nature to be soft with you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, fingers playing gentling with the hem of your shirt.

“100%,” you reply, and give him a quick kiss to reaffirm your statement. Now, he wastes no time in pulling off your shirt and starting to remove his own clothes. It makes you pause, standing there by the foot of your bed in the process of removing your bra, because suddenly he’s shirtless and it never gets any less surprising despite the many times you’ve been in this situation.

It’s not like your being subtle in your ogling, and Jamie just smirks when he sees you staring. He pushes you back onto the bed, softer this time, and you scoot yourself backwards until your head is resting on the pillows. Jamie joins you, pushing your legs open wider so there's room for him to lay in between them.

Then, you’re almost certain you’ve died and gone to heaven because he’s slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. You’re absolutely no help, lying there pliant for him to maneuver however he sees fit because you’re fully convinced your brain has stopped working.

It’s a little startling, how well Jamie knows your body. He always knows the right pressure and movement and location to make you see stars, make your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drop open. You’d think that he’d be all bark and no bite, but it’s so clear to you now that he has the skills to back up his attitude.

You have the bite marks to prove it.

Your fingers are itching for something to grab onto, something more substantial than grasping at your bedsheets, so you gently twist Jamie’s hair around your fingers, just enough to ground you, to keep you anchored to your body when you feel like you’re seconds from floating away.

It feels too good, too overwhelming, you’re unable to control any of the sounds that come out of your mouth. Jamie’s hands are gripping, digging into the flesh of your thighs and it stings where his fingernails dig in but it’s so perfect you can’t help the way you whine.

The connection between your brain and your mouth must be severed because you keep babbling away about how good, how perfect everything feels. You’re not thinking at all, only able to focus on the feelings building deep in your belly until Jamie licks at your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you just fucking lose it. Your mouth drops open and you’re completely unaware of the sounds that come pouring out of your mouth until, “I fucking love you.”

It’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water and Jamie’s pulling away and you’re fucking terrified and the pleasure that’s been building inside your body is completely replaced with dread. After you feel Jamie pulling back, you turn your gaze from the ceiling down to between your legs where Jamie still lies.

He just grins, looking like sin himself with your slick making his mouth all shiny and glossy. And then he gets right back to work, nipping at your inner thigh before doubling down his attention, working twice as hard and you don’t even remember what you’ve said because you’re thrown headfirst back into the intensity of Jamie’s full skill and attention.

It’s only seconds later when you’re almost certain that you’ve died, feeling like an exploding star as your back arches off the bed and you dig your fingers harder into Jamie’s hair and your mouth falls open again. When you regain your sense of existence, your body feels tingly all over as if the remnants of your orgasm are still coursing through your veins.

Breathing hard, you look down to see Jamie resting his head on one of your thighs, just waiting for you to come down from your high. He places a kiss over one of the marks he made on your inner thigh before he crawls up the bed to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

He disappears after that, and you’re a little worried that he’s left you like this before he comes back a few minutes later, with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. The thought of him trifling through your cupboard makes your heart stutter a little and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you can only manage to give him a small smile in thanks.

The two of you sit quietly side by side on your bed, eating the snacks Jamie had brought. He checks in on you again and again, making sure you’re totally comfortable. And then, he clears his throat and shifts around, looking uncomfortable and you can feel your heart rising into your throat, dread gripping at your stomach.

“Are we gonna talk about what you said?” He asks, tracing shapes on the bare skin of your knee as he talks and looks anywhere but your face.

“I think I meant it,” you tell him, feeling as if your whole world is crashing down around you. There are other important things in your life, work and friends and family, but there’s something about Jamie that even after the limited time you’ve had together, the thought of losing him makes you sick to your stomach.

“Good, that’s good to know.” He goes quiet for a moment but his fingers never still in their drawing, “I think so too.”

“Good,” you tell him with a smile, one that he returns and it makes you want to cry because he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and you won’t be losing him after all, there’s a hope for you, a future, and that’s all you need.

You know nothing is certain and there are plenty of things that could go wrong, but you try to bask in the afterglow of what’s been confessed the same way you’d lay in the sunshine. You feel warm and happy and you’re determined to hang onto those feelings, to enjoy the time you spend with Jamie instead of worrying that everything will come crashing down.

There’s just something about him, something that makes your worrying come to a pause whenever you’re with him. He brings you an unexpected sort of peace, one that you vow to enjoy now that you’re not worrying when it will disappear, when he’ll disappear. For once, that feeling in your chest isn’t one of anxiety but one that you’re convinced is love.

You love Jamie Tartt, and that thought isn’t as scary as it once was.

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